#sometimes you come across some friends while on the wing :3

[travellingdragon]

[dabislittlemouse]

tainted angel 🪽 MASTERLIST

ෆ pairing: Dabi x Hawks’ little sister

ෆ Synopsis: While stalking Hawks and trying to find out more information about him, Dabi comes across his little sister, a sweet angelic thing that welcomes him inside her house with a bright smile on her face. Dabi can’t help but get obsessed over her, the sudden urge to make her his takes over him entirely, maybe to have Hawks under his control while he enjoys his little sister, or maybe he really does like her. Nevertheless, she does not know the danger she just involved herself in, nor does she know that her brother’s handsome “friend” is in fact a dangerous villain who has sick twisted intentions.

ෆ cw‼️: smut, yandere themes, corruption kink, dubcon/noncon, mixed feelings, Dabi being a flirt and a pervert, stalking,

ෆ A/N please read before going further: This multichapter fic is written in Dabi’s POV mostly, it’s written in first person. You will come across Dabi’s thoughts and feelings, how he perceives things. He calls Keigo’s sister “angel” instead of the famous Y/N label, so I’ll be calling her angel too. Sometimes I include angel’s POV too (which you can totally insert yourself and imagine being her. As I write this fic I also imagine myself being the sister as well). Due to her being Keigo’s sister she might have specific descriptions such as hair color, eye color, skin, wings etc.

CHAPTER 1

During a boring rainy day of wandering around, Dabi gets a call from the men he hired to get more information on Hawks. They had found his old house, where supposedly his mother lived. Dabi decides to pay her a little visit, not knowing the surprise that was waiting for him: the little angel Hawks used to keep hidden from the public.

CHAPTER 2

Hawks threatens Dabi to not get close to his family, specifically his sister. But Dabi definitely has other plans the moment he got her number, deciding to call her late at night.

CHAPTER 3

Angel continues to secretly interact with Dabi despite Hawks warning her not to. She is entirely captivated by his charm and mysteriousness. Dabi decides to pay her a little visit and leave a small gift.

CHAPTER 4

She finally agrees to meet Dabi behind an alleyway, late at night. They both head to an empty park, where Dabi decides to make a move and savour her. From that moment things get heated up.

CHAPTER 5

Hawks is worried that his sister was out so late at night. He starts doubting her words, wondering if she is even telling the truth. He is not pleased with what he sees once she comes back.

CHAPTER 6

As Dabi refuses to elaborate on who he is and what bad things he has done, angel starts getting more paranoid. Especially knowing that he might’ve possibly entered her house at night or stalked her. As much as she enjoyed his company, she doesn’t feel safe, so she decides to listen to her brother’s warnings and stop talking to Dabi. Though Dabi is anything but pleased with her decision.

CHAPTER 7

She has been keeping watch for a few nights by now, anxiously waiting just in case Dabi decided to appear again, living in constant fear. Strange dreams appear in her sleep, of him being so close to her, touching her body in ways she begs for more. But is this really just a dream?

CHAPTER 8

“You like the danger don’t cha?” Dabi smirks. “You like some thrill in your boring peaceful life, something troublesome that has your blood boiling and adrenaline rushing.. isn’t that right doll? You like to play with fire, mess with the unknown, scared that you’ll burn and yet needing more. Confusing isn’t it?”

CHAPTER 9

Time for a real date. Giving Dabi another chance, she again lets herself swim in dangerous waters, though this time she won’t come back unscathed

CHAPTER 10

Giving in to the temptation and burning desire that could no longer be contained, she finally lets her body and soul into Dabi’s hands.

.

.

Divider credits @cafekitsune

🏷️current tags on this fic: @dabihawksluva @syrenkitsune @touyalove @awalkingshame @cr-33-d @luvsymai if anyone else wants to be added in the taglist and get notified when a new chapter drops, let me know!

[dragons-and-art]

Do you like the color of bird?

As an experiment i decided to do a specie swap with the dragon bunch, as a design exercise to see what defines each of my goobers. I started by turning them all into draygon birds, somehow ending with several more species of fluffy cloud friends.

Honestly it is perfect, since i already had the idea of having my cloud draygons come in different colors, each fitting a shade of the sky. I ended with four subspecies, called Midnight Grey, Rose Morning, Midday Blue, and Golden Sunset.

Vinny and Vex get to be Midnight Greys, fitting to their dominant and sometimes misjudged personas. These draygons are known as the strongest yet most elegant of the four subspecies, with more tidy feathers that allow them to fly quietly through the night. These two specifically come in slightly different shades due to their parents being of different species, with Vex getting a redder hue and the usual bulky build of the breed, while Vinny retains the proper blueish shade but with an odd thinner frame.

Nala gets to be the cutest thing alive by being a Rose Morning bird lass. Very active draygons, specifically in the morning. They are the smallest of the four, with short wings and stubbier bodies, but with the best control over their air magic, which allows them to lift off quickly and fly with surprising speed in short bursts.

Drixie would be a MIdday Blue gal, the sea bird of the four breeds, with wings best designed to cut through the air and soar with little assistance of their air powers, making them extremely good at long flights, sometimes having enough endurance to fly across continents. Also to note, this breed is usually very tall and sharp, the second tallest in fact, but Drixie's short and round genes are strong lol

And last but not least, Summer! Of course he gets some text <3

As a natural Golden Sunset cloud draygon, he's is one of tallest subspecies with his own height at 8'9", with strong wings to fly through the intense late afternoon winds, or sit still in the sky almost like a fluffy kite with the help of their elemental magic. Like their gray cousins, they were considered rare sights, as they used to keep themselves at a distance from the ground, some still preferring to live and roost in mountain peaks and far away islands. But in modern times you have odd ducklings like Summer who enjoy a life near the ground.

[anarchy-and-piglins]

Fun AU time! Call it an "adopted introvert" au!

Technoblade is alone and alone is how he likes it. Absolutely. He's not lonely. Not at all. He just likes spending his time adventuring! Can't have friendships when you are adventuring, it takes too much time.

Anyways, Technoblade is exploring a fortress when he comes across a strange room. It has some kind of altar thingy? Its ancient. He is looking around it when he accidentally bumps into something. Sets off a Mummy-style rube Goldberg machine that breaks a vase hanging above the altar.

Out pops a flustered blond man with massive black wings, blinking at Technoblade with confusion.

The guy opens his mouth to speak and Technoblade books it. Conversation can't get him if he runs. Take that, socialization.

Technoblade runs for a while, stops to breath and check behind him to see if the guy is following him. He sees no one and turns back around.

Blond man is grinning at him, covered head to toe in soot.

His name is Philza. Technoblade didn’t ask, but the guy introduced himself. He was sealed up in that vase for REASONS. Philza does not explain those reasons, but Technoblade doesn't ask. Mostly because Techno is doing his best to jog away. Philza doesn't let him. Philza basically shouts at him that now that Techno freed him, Philza is bound to follow him everywhere. Techno is frozen in place by that. Oh no, he's been cursed with company. The absolute worst.

Techno finally stops to ask how to undo it. Philza is giddy as he tells Techno a variety of very silly tasks he needs to do to have them split.

Technoblade sighs and agrees, heading off in a direction as Philza chats with him.

Here's the thing. Philza lied. They are not bound together. Philza just got trapped because he was a bit too silly and MAY have caused a civil war in the nether. But he's just a silly guy! He's just having a fun time, living his best life. Not his fault people can't take a little bit of mischief and decided to seal him away. He was just having fun.

His fun DOES have a body count, but that just shows he is the LIFE of the party.

Anyways, Techno and Phil travel together. Sometimes, Techno feels like he should leash Philza because the man keeps doing ridiculous things (PLEASE do not steal all the saddles in the village, Phil! We can't do this!). However, Philza is also pleasantly surprised about Techno's streaks of chaos. If anyone tries to imply Techno CAN'T do something, you better believe he's gonna. (No, Techno, you can't sit in the shiny gold chair. Its reserved for the mayor-PLEASE STOP OVERTHROWING THE MAYOR!)

Philza loves this about Techno. They both can be so chaotic. But Philza also loves how Techno seems to mellow him out, to. Philza doesn't feel the constant need to DO. To EXPERIENCE. He can just...fish by the lake with his bestie. Its nice.

Phil eventually comes clean about not being bound. Of course, he comes clean about this AFTER Technoblade wears sliced potatoes in his socks for 3 days, one of the "trials" he made up at the start. Techno is quiet at first about that, and Philza is very nervous he just lost his only true friend.

Techno shrugs and says he should have seen that coming. Betrayal, from his new best friend! How could he? The audacity of this man! The cruelty! The gall! Techno goes on and on until Philza is laughing at Techno's dramatics. Techno jokingly asks how he can seal Philza back in a jar for this affront. Maybe a chicken canning company? Philza is so relieved that Techno isn't mad.

And Techno isn't. He had spent enough time with Philza to know when the man was lying. It became clear that Philza was bull shitting him. He had his suspicions for a while. But the company was NICE. Like a missing piece. He felt so much calmer and happier. What's one lie?

Techno declares that Philza can only make it up to him if he does all the trials that he convinced Techno to do. Philza tries to argue against this, but Techno is deadset. And Technoblade is so stubborn that eventually gives in.

Phil's going to regret making Technoblade speak backward for a week. Phil can't even read, how do backward words work???

Anyways, silly little thought! Just a fun Emduo having goof time.

Phil really thought going about making friends in the most fae way possible was a good idea and Techno's like "sure lmao" I love them <3

[spidernuggets]

Hey, I've been reading your stuff for a while and I was wondering if I could request number 16 from the quote prompt list. Once again I think this will be great as usual <3

Jason Todd x Reader

Notes: HBOTitans!Jason Todd based while he was still Robin

"Why do you care? You could've just walked away"

You and Jason never got along really well. You hated his guts but at the same time, you didn't.

Ever since you joined the Titans, you and Jason began this extremely competitive rivalry. Who can knock the other one fastest during sparring. Who can come up with a better strategy. Christ, who can get to the bathroom the first in the morning.

You don't really know when this started. You knew Jason had a tendency to judge people before he got to know them. But you wanted to be his friend when you first met.

And you couldn't doubt that Jason was real attractive. Even when he was trying to one up you in everything, you couldn't help but admire how skilled he was.

Sure, you'd somehow show your appreciation to his abilities, but it's been over a year, and he still hates you. So you hate him, too. You don't know why he hates you. You didn't do anything wrong to him when you joined, but sometimes these things happen. And you told yourself not to let it get to you, but he can be so aggravating sometimes, and you hate that you don't truly hate him as much as he may hate you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Alright, and Jason and Y/N, you two will be paired together to scout the area for the wanted convicts." Dick demands during the current debriefing.

A mishap occurred in Gotham Prison, and a load of felons and criminals escaped, scurrying all over Gotham. Dick gathered a meeting with the other Titans to round up these convicts and return them to the prison.

"Hell no," Jason said. "Pair them with Rachel. I'll go with Gar or- or anyone!"

"Love ya too," you bite back sarcastically, rolling your eyes.

Dick sighs in annoyance. "Listen, the two of you need to get along. These are just a couple of convicts. You'll be fine. You'll improve with your training if you learn how to fight together without fighting each other! We're not switching pairs, and that's that." He says, walking out of the room before Jason could complain again, the other members following suit, leaving you and Jason remaining in the debriefing room.

"Hey. Stay out of my way, or I'll throw you in Gotham Prison with the other convicts," Jason threatens.

You threw your hands up in defence. "Ooh, so scary. Don't clip a wing out there, birdie," you snarl as Jason storms out.

You rolled your eyes. Not even an hour into patrol, and Jason ran off on his own.

"Holy shit," you whisper, looking at the dark, isolated streets below.

A group of criminals dressed in prison uniforms, about 12, were spread across the gloomy streets, drinking booze that the most likely have already stolen.

Suddenly, a fight breaks out. You squinted your eyes and saw a familiar red and green figure, kicking some of their asses.

"For crying out loud, is this guy allergic to a plan or something. One of them could literally pull out a flamethrower from out his ass." You complain to yourself, watching Jason in action.

You can hear his cocky voice in the back of your head tell you that you're overthinking this, followed by some pet name he always gives you.

Impressively, Jason seemed to have it under control. You wanted to either sit back and watch or simpmy walk away. But he's still one guy against twelve. And he's still your teammate.

"For fuck- UGH," you groaned, jumping after him, joining the fight.

"Late to the party, sweetheart," he says, earning a scoff from you.

Most convicts seemed inhumanly buff, others quite lanky, but still able to pack a punch.

Luckily, both you and Jason were well trained and already knocked out almost all of the men.

"I got seven down!" Jason remarks, panting as he punches out another guy. "Might wanna catch up, babe," he yells over to you.

"Would you shut up for 5 minutes, Robin!" You yell back, kicking the ass of another criminal, marking your 4th knockout. "You know, you don't have to be an asshole about everything!" You bark, turning to face him. "You're better than me, okay?! Is that what you wanted to hear? Well, there you go!"

Jason stood a distance from you, speechless. He joked around many times to make you say that he was better than you. But he didn't mean it. He always thought you were better than him. You were barely trained when you first joined, and yet you fought so well. He admitted to himself that you were badass and that he wanted to be as a fast of a learner as you.

You scanned around the area, out of breath after your quick rant. But then you pause. "Eleven," you whisper.

Jason looks up at you. "What?" He asks.

"Eleven. There's- There's eleven here. There were twelve convicts. Where's the last guy??" You say, beginning to panic.

Jason's eyes widen. "Behind you!" He screams. You swiftly turn, and you're met with a tall, very muscular and gruff man, charging towards you. He runs past you, heading towards Jason.

With his keen reflexes, Jason throws one of his Rs, aiming for the leg. It lands perfectly as the man screams in agony, falling over. Jason stabs another R blade into the other leg, proceeding to kick him in the face with his boot, knocking him out completely.

"Shit," Jason sighs, looking around at the scene. Before he was about to link in with the others through the comms, he notices you in the distance just standing there, your back facing him.

"S/n?" He calls out, but you don't reply. He sees your arms move in front of you, and his eyebrow raises in confusion.

Your arms fall limp to your sides, and in one hand, you hold a long, bloody knife.

"S/N!" Jason yells out, running towards you, holding onto you tightly before you could fall to the ground.

Jason stutters out a string of curses, trying to apply pressure to your wound. "You're- You're gonna be okay, Y/n... Okay? I- I already called Dick and the others, they'll be here, just- just stay awake! You can do that, yeah? You're so strong, just stay awake, please!" He begs, his clothes drenching in your blood.

"I.. I can't, Jay," you weakly whisper out, muffled by your painful whimpers. Your eyes started to get heavy, and all the noise began to fade. All you could hear were the other Titans running up to you and Jason's voice yelling at you to stay awake.

You thought you were dead. You felt dead. But your eyes open to a very bright light. You groan, blinking away the burning sensation in your eyes.

"Sweetheart? Shit, okay, you're okay," a voice says in relief.

As your vision unblurs, you can make out Jason's face hovering over yours.

You groan something to him, and he repeats a few confused "what? What did you say?"

"Jesus, take this thing off me," you repeat, referring to the oxygen mask on your face. Jason complies, removing the mask and gently rubbing your face, smoothing out the red dents that the mask left on your skin.

"Shit, how long was I out for?" You ask.

"Two days," Jason replies, sitting in the seat beside your bed.

"My everywhere hurts, and I can't feel anything at the same time," your voice was rasp, and your eyes were tired.

"I could've handled them myself, babe. What were you even thinking?" He said, slightly annoyed but didn't want to stress you in your current state.

"That you were my teammate, and that it was my job to help you," you weakly reply back.

Jason just stares back at you. "Why do you care? You could've just walked away."

You let out a dry laugh. "That was my initial thought. Look, I know you hate me, but at least give me some credit here."

He looks at you dumbfounded. "I don't... I don't hate you.." He admits.

You face slightly scrunches up. "What? I... Then why are you always trying to beat me in everything? I tried- I wanted to be your friend but- but you just..."

"You started it!" He childishly says back. "You kept showing off at how much better you were at fighting than me ever since you got here."

Your face softens. "I just... I just wanted to impress you," you quietly tell him. "I saw you sparring with Gar while you were blindfolded. You were so amazing, and- and I just wanted to be like you," you confessed. "I don't hate you either."

Jason's shoulders slumped. All this time, he thought you were trying to show that you were better than him. But you were trying to impress him? You were admiring him?

He understands the situation if Dick were in his place. Hell, everyone looked up and wanted to be like Dick. Never in his life has someone told him that they wanted to be like him. To be like Jason Todd.

Jason sighs. "I'm sorry, babe." He says, his head hanging low.

You lightly shook your head. "Nah, it's okay. But please, kill it with the pet names."

Jason laughs. "Why? Careful, sweetheart, you might make yourself look like you like like me," he teases, trying to get a reaction out of you.

But you only turn your head away from him, not answering. You thought this was a subtle reaction, but it got Jason raising his brows and leaning forward.

"Do you actually?" He asks genuinely.

You shook your head. "Forget about it. It was just a thing." You try to push away the topic.

He pauses. "Would it just be a thing if I said I felt the same?" He carefully asks.

Your head faces him, eyebrows knit together. "What-"

You're quickly interrupted as Jason stands from his chair, hovering over you and placing his lips against yours, one hand cradling your fave as the other holds him up above you.

You were too tired and weak to raise your hands to his neck, but strong enough to kiss him back, your lips perfectly synchronising with his.

I feel like i made that ending a little rushed, but the scenario was playing on repeat in my head and really wanted to add it in!!!

ALSO, it really makes my day knowing that you've been reading my stuff for a while, Anon!!! Hope u enjoyed your requested fic!!! 🙏🫶

[notquitebunnie]

Please welcome my baby, Remiel

Context: @2af-afterdark made a God!MC au, so I took that concept and made my God!MC revive the Seraph that Gabriel killed. He's an old, one time, OC for a collab, but he's perfect for this so I decided to bring him back

Remiel

Nation: Heaven

Epithet: The Eater of Devils

Idiosyncrasy: Forced Orgasm

Zodiac: Gemini

Height: 185cm

Weight: 77kg

Length: 27cm

Confidence point: Eyes

Favorite food: Hot pot with broth made from the bones of devils

Favorite accessory: His lyre

Favorite weather: Cloudy day sky and clear night sky

Habit: Flicking his wings

Hobby: Cooking

Ideal type: God himself

Ideal target: People who are reactive

Ideal body type: Soft and squishy bodies

More infos ⬇️

It's a long one

Likes: Feeding heavenly pets devil meat, eye-care, wing-care, Collecting devils' horns

Dislikes: Bright flashing lights, serious people, rain, Avisos(too bright even at night)

☆ •☆ • ☆ • ☆ • ☆ • ☆ •☆ • ☆

@2af-afterdark wanted to know

What is his favorite dessert?

• His favorite dessert is Peach Crumble

Is he a morning person or a night owl?

• He’s a night owl, he have 12 eyes so he’s very sensitive to light

What is his worst "bad habit"?

• His worst “bad habit” is hoarding devil corpses, he cooks some of them but the rest go bad before he can get to them

What is his love language (not exclusive to the main five if those don't fit)?

• His love language is Words of Affirmation, he loves being praised, bombard him with it and he’ll drown you with praises as well

What is the most mundane thing that brings him pleasure/joy?

• The most mundane thing that brings him joy is people/creature watching

Can I give the most gentle butterfly kisses to all of his eyes and hold his hand?

• Yes, yes you can, he would love it. Careful when you’re holding his hands though, he have an eye on each

☆ •☆ • ☆ • ☆ • ☆ • ☆ •☆ • ☆

• He have 12 eyes

• He can control each individually or as a group

• 4 on his face

• 2 on his shoulders

• 1 on his chest

• 2 on his hands

• 3 that line his back

• He usually have them closed cause it can be disorienting sometimes

• Only used when he lost track of his opponent

• He likes to tease people he knows, but if his teasing doesn’t work, he’ll try again with a different topic

• He teases Gabriel every time he receives attention from God

• Ex: “Gabriel~ guess what~? God praised my singing again~”

• He teases Michael every time Michael decapitate anyone

• Ex: “Don't waste their heads, Michael, would you mind gathering their heads for my dish?”

• He teases Raphael every time Raphael’s covered in blood

• Ex: “Awww, their blood would’ve made for some delicious broth…actually, Raphael, wanna come sit in this cauldron for a while?”

• He have one devil friend

• Her current whereabouts is unknown, ever since he got revived he has been trying to find her

• She used to be a resident of Gehenna, she left not long after his death

• Teased her about her love life

• Ex: “No luck with devils? How about I hook you up with an angel instead?”

• He treats anyone he doesn’t know coldly

• Ex: First meeting with God!MC he said “Who tf are you?” With a poker face (which then led to Gabby smacking Remiel across his head; Gabriel: "Disrespecting our (new) God? Not on my watch")

• He sang while playing the lyre for God often because he have a beautiful singing voice

• Have tried to cook every single body parts and organs of devils

• Have a notebook of how to and how not to cook certain parts

• He likes to gently nibble something or someone

[splatoonpolls]

SPLATOON OC TOURNEY ROUND 4 BATTLE 4

Talia Yareli by @gingergari vs Tami by @wyrm-in-a-closet

PROPAGANDA/BACKSTORY

TALIA

Talia (age 24 (~16 in splat1), pronouns he/her) is from Calamari County! Her family consists of her mother, her older sister Moselle (28, a firefighter) that she looks up to a lot, and her younger sister Ren (18). He originally moved to Inkopolis to make a living as a pro battler, which he did for a few years with his roommate turned girlfriend Peri, maining both Dynamos depending on the kits given. Then Grizzco opened for business, and it turned out that they paid pretty well all things considered, and that they were both *really* good at it. (They also thought it was fun for the most part) Since they were consistently hitting the upper ranks of Profreshional, when Grizzco expanded to the Splatlands the pair were invited to relocate as Eggsecutive VPs to help support the branch and to help train up some new recruits. That's how Victoria (Eggs) and Fiorello (Safety) ended up joining them :] Speaking of nicknames, Talia has the worst name memory in the world and has a lot of trouble remembering the names of people and occasionally objects, so he gives them a nickname she remembers a lot better. (Peri is a nickname! But sometimes Talia falls back on pet names until he remembers either her nickname or actual name) He is very worried that he comes across as rude for it (or anything in general) so tries to be as friendly as possible. He was the one that gave Safety the life preserver gear as a gift! Talia is a huge fan of Big Man (finds that he relates to him the most) and did cry when he lost the leader splatfest :( Also cried when he was homesick and tried to get her favorite dish, clam mochi, at a Splatlands restaurant which turned out as you would expect. His favorite splatband is Sashimori. Talia is friends with my Agent 3, but does not know the truth about Grizzco.

TAMI

An inkling born to ordinary parents who worked at Gone Fission power plant. However, a salmonid big run happened in the area, and because Grizzco didn't yet exist, it had to be abandoned, and Tami's parents were killed. Tami herself, who was also there, was badly injured and lost her right arm, was found by some salmonids, but because she was a young inkling the salmonids didn't know what she was and so instead of killing her took her home. She then spent almost her entire life growing up with the salmonids, and became a very skilled fighter, but also starting a band with a couple other salmonids. They make music that's like horrible to listen to and will overestimate you. Once she was 14, she joined the war on salmonids on the side of the salmonids. Over time Grizzco expands and poses a larger and larger threat to the salmonids, so Tami decides that she's going to go try and put a stop to it, because she's the only one who could make it to inkling civilation without being killed, although that doesn't change the fact she didn't know the language, culture, or anything. After spending several nights on the streets of splatsville, Tami is found by Tide, an octoling who's been living there for some time. Tide takes Tami under their wing, despite them knowing nothing about each other. Over the next few months Tide teachers Tami inkling language, has Tami participate in battles (where she fuckin rocks at it bc she's been literally trained for war), all while Tami searches for more info on Grizzco, but unfortunately nobody knows shit about it. Finally she happens across Cuttlefish and eventually falls into Alterna, where she has no idea what's going on until eventually wow Mr. Grizz is there. She fucking kills him and then just kinda leaves without really joining the squidbeak splatoon she just wanted to kill Mr grizz. Anyways then she and Tide probably go back to salmonid or something I haven't really figure this out. Sorry for the text wall

[hadesdancehall]

I also made this post on the BRC subreddit but unsure if it'll stay up there so I figured I'd also share here on the off chance it gets taken. Just had thoughts about the visual symbolism with Faux and Felix that I needed to get out of my system.

Spoilers ahead for Chapter 5 and BRC endgame!

When I was going into the final boss fight, my best friend had wanted to be on voice call because there was a particular shot after the fight that she really wanted me to see: the one where Solace became Felix's "one wing".

Considering Felix going solo catalyzed the contention between him and Faux, the way Felix's "I only need one wing" mentality evolved between his first All City to the end of BRC's narrative is one of the things that really struck me with this shot. Felix's one wing was initially something borne from his decision to break away from the Big 3 in order to go solo — relying on his own merits in order to reach the pinnacle of the streets. It's never explicitly said if he really thought of Faux as a burden ("Felix... you never wanted us to be a crew and why would you? You gained so much from dropping me.") but from Felix's perspective, there were "no hard feelings" which implies that there was no actual resentment on his side. DJ also certainly didn't seem to really care either way. But ultimately the choice to be on his own with his one wing is the thing that led to his death, since Faux took it hard enough that he... y'know...

But with this?

[ID: Felix with one of Solace's wings showing up behind him]

Sure, it's just Solace. But Solace represents more than just himself — Solace represents BRC, all of them. The entire narrative follows Felix as Red, back at the bottom of the rung with Tryce and Bel, as the three of them work to the top. As Red, he still had inclinations towards handling his whole "retrieving his head and finding out his roots" situation on his own. But it was through Tryce and Bel's insistence that they stick together and their constant support and care that overcomes those inclinations. As Red, he intentionally chose and was able to reach the pinnacle with other people, with a crew — something that old Felix thought wasn't possible even when Faux, one of the best of his contemporaries, had offered it.

I think about this shot a lot ever since I saw it in-game. But then I came across another one as I was watching another person's playthrough with the same friend:

[ID: Faux's introduction in Chapter 1 at the New Amsterdam Police Bureau, with the outer ring of the Police Bureau's logo prominent behind his head]

The above shot caught me so off guard because it truly is a "blink and you miss it" kind of moment since Faux zooms in from this particular shot pretty quickly. But the New Amsterdam Police Bureau logo makes a flipping halo behind him. Along with the alias, this could potentially be its own foreshadowing to Faux's real nature: that he's not who he seems to be, that he's your foe, but that he's also deified himself in his own head and eventually deified through Project Algo where he assumes control of the police force.

(And since Solace is sometimes called by other characters as an "angel boy" or Felix's "angel fan", you can potentially get some lovely interpretations stemming from religious iconography, but that's something for another day if not coming from another person entirely.)

Am I reading too much into this? Most definitely. But while the actual plot of BRC isn't revolutionary, a lot of the things that make it enjoyable for me is filling it in with things like this in order to enrich the world and the story more. So I figured I'd also share the joy that came with these random thoughts with others — and if you've made it to the end, thanks for reading!

[dastardly-imbecile]

And He Came Down Upon Wings of Snow

Part four of 'written for a friend'. 1, 2, 3.

You’re sure that something is watching you. More than sure, actually—it’s not anything so small as a hunch or a feeling. No, it’s a bone-deep fear. This is what the antelope feels when it sees the flickering cheetah in the grass, this is that swooping feeling in your stomach when you trip while holding something valuable. Impending doom coming from above like some hawk on wide wings against a small, shivering rabbit.

And the worst part is: you know that you cannot do a single thing about it. --- In which there is a you, a presence, and an angel.

---

Wordcount: 1823

This has literally nothing to do with the outer Mandela Catalogue universe—only Gabriel.

TW: Vague allusion to suicide? It's one line near the end, and not stated outright.

You’re sure that something is watching you. More than sure, actually—it’s not anything so small as a hunch or a feeling. No, it’s a bone-deep fear. This is what the antelope feels when it sees the flickering cheetah in the grass, this is that swooping feeling in your stomach when you trip while holding something valuable. Impending doom coming from above like some hawk on wide wings against a small, shivering rabbit. 

And the worst part is: you know that you cannot do a single thing about it. 

Running won’t help. You’re sitting on the edge of your bed at the moment, and the silence makes the presence ever stronger, but it follows. Followed you on the road, to your friends’ house, to work. You’ve tried to lose it, dove into crowds of people, taken winding roads at breakneck speed. Nothing helps. It’s almost like this creature is perched upon your shoulder, hands clenched on your head, and wherever you go, it’s attached as a parasite. Some twisted version of a guardian angel—always following, never benevolent. 

You’ve tried fighting it—swiping the air around your body with knives, searching for invisible foes with their gleaming tips. Used your hands when those didn’t work—perhaps bare flesh would reveal something that cold metal could not. 

Nothing. 

And, eventually, you tried to speak to it. Threats, pleads, sugary-sweet flattering. This, maybe, has had the most tangible effect. Tangible in that once, after you broke into tears, you felt the cold brush of wind. Not something remarkable but for the fact that you were standing in your windowless bathroom. 

Caressing across your cheek, lingering under your chin. Soft.

It did nothing but bring a fresh wave of tears. 

***

Lately, it’s been appearing in the corners of your vision. Flickering away as you turn your head, there once and gone again. 

It’s been so long that the violation is almost commonplace now. Still the feeling of being stalked, the feeling that something could grab you—grab you, skin you, break your bones into shards—but it’s nearly an empty threat. You’ve taken to narrating your actions aloud to it, treating it like some vaguely-annoying imaginary friend. Now, I’m going to go cook dinner. I don’t suppose you want a serving. Or, Sometimes, I wish you’d just do it. I’m bound to die of high blood pressure at this point. 

But this? This is new. 

Something white. So white that it may even be glowing, but the glimpses are too spare to tell. There’s the vague impression of something that flows, that swings in the air—fabric. Robes or scarves of dresses, the actual nature of it is a mystery. Every time it flashes, your head still jolts instinctively. 

The habit of talking has once again nestled back into a cranny of your mind. Until you can ascertain that this isn’t a sign of immediate death, you’re too wary to be so blasé about it again. The fact that an incorporeal force, harmlessly frightening at most, has graduated to being physical scares you. 

And maybe it likes that. 

***

More flashes. Slower, too. They’re definitely some sort of dress or robes, you’re sure, stark white. Not glowing—or at least not glowing any more than a freshly fallen sheet of snow does. Any luminescence that it holds can be attributed to the sheen of sunlight being reflected back again. 

There’s a larger presence behind those robes too. These are blinding, and if the robes are the snow, then this is the sun. You can make out the vague shape of something large and looming, angular shapes and folds upon folds, layered into stacks of dozens. 

It’s come to become a pattern, written out into three events. Every time you feel like you’re safe, like the advancements have finally stopped, it starts again. And the starting kicks out a new tsunami of fear. 

You hope that now you’ve come to anticipate it, it won’t be able to sneak up on you again. 

It’s a cruel, false hope. 

***

Maybe you’re insane. Are you insane? You scheduled a doctor’s appointment two days ago and told them that you were seeing things, feeling things. Desperately, you wished for it to be some rendering of schizophrenia, some odd amalgamation of hormones and chemicals and the folds of your brain. 

The doctor was an old, kind man. He smiled at you when you entered and tried to make jokes, make you comfortable. He could probably feel the tautness in your arms, hear the soft heaves of your breath. 

You didn’t hear too many of those jokes. No, your eyes were locked on the cut of his long, white coat. Stiff and starched, the hospital’s logo emblazoned over his chest—but it hung low and glowed pale in the fluorescent lights and it brought your heart to a pounding rhythm. 

In the end, he patted you on the back and told you to get more sleep, drink more water. Was there anything stressful happening at work; in your home life? You were a healthy young thing, nothing wrong internally, so perhaps try to deal with your external problems first. 

External problems. If only. 

Not an hour later, you were stepping into the small shop. Curtains hung heavy over the windows, casting the room into darkness. Beads clattered against each other as you pushed the door open, feet sinking into plush carpets. 

From the hospital to the psychic. The wonders of the modern world. 

The woman who greeted you wasn’t dressed in white, but around her neck hung a cross necklace. An odd choice for someone that churches might denounce—but you were in no place to judge. 

You weren’t judging, either. Just staring. The cross—so small, so delicate. Something about it sent shivers of familiarity running through you—you knew crosses, knew crosses more than you’d ever known anything before. 

The unfortunate side effect of this was that she believed you were quite ardently drawn in by her cleavage—perhaps why she treated you so coldly throughout the meeting. No crystal balls or tea leaves. No, she simply told you to close your eyes and let your mind float away while she ran gentle fingers over your head, shoulders, back. 

You’re stressed, she’d told you, and you had to bite back a no shit Sherlock. The doctor had told you just about as much and you weren’t at this backalley shop for anything that doctors could do. 

Something large hangs around you. The weight of something from your past. You need to bare yourself to it. Stop running. 

You’re unsure if she actually did anything beyond spout off fortune-cookie lyrics, but perhaps there’s some sort of merit in it. 

***

Nighttime. Your dreams from the past few nights have been painted in eyes and smiles—bad smiles, stretched smiles. A mashup of the Cheshire Cat and Jack the Ripper, with a dash of Cthulhu mixed in. Enough to make you descend into smushing pop culture references together. 

Most everything else from the dreams escapes you, but you wake in tangled sheets nevertheless. Perhaps it’s best that you don’t know. You turn the thermostat up, but the house is cold. When you lay on the bed and contemplate your latest nightmare, heart still beating jackrabbit quick, it brings gooseflesh rising onto your skin. 

Meditation. The best approximation of what the medium told you, but nothing. Truth be told, you’re often too distracted. When your eyes close, impossible colors swirl behind them, and you can almost feel cold breath on your neck. 

Tonight, though. On your bed for the lack of a better place to sit. It’s the culmination of a week of sleepless nights, a month of vague hallucinations, six of that everpresent fear. It’s do this or find some other way to end it, and the other way might be a fair bit more brutal. 

Deep breaths. 

In. 

Out. 

In. 

Out. 

The temperature is dropping. Down, down, down. 

***

How much time has it been?

How long, sitting like this?

Something is watching. 

Waiting. 

Eyes. Mouth. Teeth. 

Robes. Wings. Hair. 

Skin. Blood. Bone. 

And then, it all comes together. 

***

It coalesces from the darkness and from the spare images in your mind—as if it pulls straight from those recollections of robes, those dreams of teeth, drawing them out like a tailor draws thread through cloth. 

A man. Tall. Long strands of blonde hair hanging curled around his face. And that face—angular, sharp feathers, cheeks sunken, eyes dark. Wings stretch behind him and they do not care for the bounds of your house. No longer do they glow, for they are dark as shadows. 

Not a man. 

An angel. 

His lips are curled into some sort of smile. Mouth not open. Good. You aren’t quite ready to see his teeth. 

“So you come,” he tells you, “you call.”

A quiet voice. Slightly raspy. Not the high soprano of an angelic chorus, but then, he isn’t too angelic himself. 

“Why?” Is all you can ask. 

“Little lamb,” he tells you, voice deepening. A pale hand reaches from the depths of his robe. His fingers settle under your chin, thumb brushing gently against your cheekbone, and he tilts your head up to look at him. “So scared. I can hear your heart. Feel your blood.”

“Am I?” You breathe.

He nods once. Still smiling. “Be not afraid, for your shepherd has arisen, and he shall guide you to the promised land.”

Everything is darkening. Where is your house? Where is your bed? Memories of the life past flicker through your mind. Your work- oh, you realize, you haven’t been going in lately. Haven’t even left the house since that visit to the psychic’s. 

What would she say now? What would that doctor? Your thoughts drift. 

They’re brought back by a sharp jerk of your head. He’s leaning closer now, no longer smiling, brows creased. 

“Do not stray from your path. I will have none of your puny, mortal past.”

“I’m… sorry,” you manage. “I won’t… I-”

“Do not worry.”

All at once, he is beatific again. His wings have taken on a soft glow, flickering faintly like candlelight. His eyes are black, but the shapes of his face are so beautiful that you cannot care. 

He moves the arm that doesn’t hold you still, drawing it out to his side. An invitation to embrace. 

“Come, little lamb. Eden awaits.”

You rise stiffly. It’s so, very cold, and he is warm and he is light and if the corners of his smile stretch a bit too wide, then you can avert your eyes. He seems to like the action—the sign of deference. 

In a swift movement, you’re bundled into his embrace. He is glowing, but his skin is no warmer than the surroundings. His head tilts to look down at you. White teeth glint down at you—teeth so bright, so long, pearls in the snow.

Eden. Paradise. 

Arm still around you, wings curled up behind your backs, he leads you into the dark. 

[zetchrr]

For the 30 questions for the your Tav ask meme!

4 (We know about the first part, but I'm especially interested in the second), 9, 24 and 29 :) A good day to you btw, hope you've been well.

Hiiii! I'm good thank you, Barnabas! Hope you're doing okay too. <3 4. What hobbies does your Tav have? How did they acquire these interests? So, there is a bit of story to this, so forgive he waffle. After Ka'zalii left his creche, he traveled from place to place in the astral, pretty lost as to what to do with himself. Avoiding kin out of a bit of paranoia that he might be being hunted. (He wasn't, but he couldn't know that.) He ended up on a tiny moon orbiting a gas giant that operated as a bit of a pirate/outlaw hang out. Think Tortuga. He meets a Thri-keen there, Tal-ik. She's a 'former' pirate, still dabbles in it occasionally. She sees this lost looking teenage githyanki and takes him under her wing. (Mandibles?) Teaches him how crewing a spelljammer works, gives him a relatively safe place to stay and most relevant to this question, introduces him to the art of cooking. It becomes a bit of a focus, something to relax and he ends up genuinely enjoying the whole process. His memory is insane so he remembers every recipe he reads. He's now very passionate about good food and will talk you to death about it. Or argue you with you if you have poor food opinions. His bead crafting started when he was a child. An incident during a fun expedition down to the planet his creche orbited (he was 12) usual fight to the death between clutchmates. A spell missed him, hit a rock nearby which exploded into shards of glass, hitting them both. Killed his clutchmate and he got several shards embedded in his side and leg. The first bead he made, which he still has in his hair, was from one of those shards. Symbol of survival that he kind of clung to and his bead collection evolved from there. 9. What was your Tav doing when they were taken by the mind flayers? Ka'zalii was doing a bit of spy work for the Sha'sal Khou. He'd been sent to Stardock to check on the githzerai hiding in the tunnels, they hadn't been heard from in a while. And with Urlon being so undercover, it wasn't as if they could just walk in and ask. It was him and two others, only he was taken by sheer bad luck more than anything else. He never did find out where the githzerai had gone before he got abducted. It wasn't until after the netherbrain was dead that his kin found out he was alive. 24. What first impression does your Tav give off to strangers? He's a beanpole of an alien. 6'1" so a bit intimidating in that respect for some. He also has a bit of a stern resting expression a lot of the time. He's just thinking about shit, but if he looks like he's staring at you, kind of offputting. Always armed, rarely out of armour. When speaking common he's pretty abrupt sounding too, not intentionally but it can come across as sharp. Super blunt sometimes. Speaking tir, it's a different story. He's much more likely to elaborate on things and be a bit more animated when he talks. He's getting there with common, he just finds it a bit of an annoying language. 29. What advice would you give to your Tav? TALK to people. Work through your trauma, stop ignoring it godddd, listen to your friends. Also, hey maybe don't hinge your future on one guy. Doesn't matter how cool a warlord might be, things could go wrong and then you'll be dead. Stop picking that scab.

He will ignore all of this.

[imperiuswrecked]

(Speaking of that fanart of Namor by Alex Ross w/women all over him) Is Namor into orgies? .... Esp w/him as the only guy? I thought he drank respect women juice? ???? Is this a dudebro fantasy projection on him or actually ic of him?

"Your arrogance sickens me, Beekeeper. Only Namor has the ability to make the earth move. And he reserves that privilege for one woman at a time. Unless they have experimental friends."

Uncanny X-Men (1963) 534.1

Uncanny X-Men (2012) #1

You didn't, you didn't really imperius sex her!

A mere gentleman does not tell. A king is far more discreet.

Ick. Ick. Ick.

You are only showing your parochialism and prejudice. There are many forms of beauty. She is a dignified queen of a noble people. Namor is nothing if not cosmopolitan in his tastes.

Uncanny X-Men (2012) #8

Those are some examples of Namor's thoughts + sex. There's others in the comics.

Is Namor into orgies?

Yes. He's also polyamorous if he's in an open relationship(s).

Especially with him as the only guy?

This is Marvel, I'd have a higher chance of sprouting wings from my ankles than getting Marvel to admit Namor is bi/pansexual. All we get is canceled queer storylines or heavily veiled hints that Namor isn't 100% straight. Examples of which I've listed before on my blogs.

I thought he drank respect women juice? Is this a dude bro fantasy projection on him or actually in character of him?

Yes, he drinks respect women juice. He doesn't like when others hurt or talk down to women. He isn't misogynistic however he is written by men. Most male writers are misogynistic. Sometimes that comes through in certain writing. We cannot separate that fact from character interpretation.

Just because Namor enjoys orgies or has a very casual sex life doesn't mean he looks down on or hates women or just uses them. Out of over 80 years of writing, he's been in a total of 3 serious long-term relationships with women (married twice, widowed twice) and 2 short-term romances. He's had a few flings. Namor is pretty monogamous in comparison to other comic characters. So while there could be some projection, (and there certainly is a lot of projection when it comes to the NamorSue ship) I personally find it in character for Namor to enjoy sex and pleasure. Just because he isn't ashamed of his whorish ways doesn't mean he's a womanizer.

Another thing to consider is that Namor's character flaws of arrogance, ego, and machoism doesn't mean he's a misogynist. Terms he uses sometimes like, woman, female, wench is imo mainly due to the fact he's Archaic or that Marvel sets Atlantis in type of old fantasy so that's terms they use. Wench being associated with sea/sailors as well.

I've always said that if a writer has Namor being misogynistic to women then they've failed to understand the character.

Maybe when I have time I can break down more about Namor's supporting cast, the women in his world, and how he is written across various decades.

[cacchieressa]

Eight Days in April

1. I broke a glass, got bloodstains on the sheet: hereafter, must I only write you chaste connubial poems? Now that I have traced a way from there to here across the sweet- est morning, rose-blushed blonde, will measured feet advance processionally, where before they scuff-heeled flights of stairs, kicked at a door, or danced in wing-tips to a dirty beat? Or do I tell the world that I have got rich quick, got lucky (got laid), got just what the doctor ordered, more than I deserved? This is the second morning I woke curved around your dreaming. In one night, I've seen moonset and sunrise in your lion's mane.

2. Moons set and suns rise in your lion's mane through LP kisses or spread on my thighs. Winter subsided while I fantasized what April dawns frame in the windowpane. Sweetheart, I'm still not getting enough sleep, but I'm not tired, and outside it's spring in which we sprang the afternoon shopping after I'd been inside you, O so deep I thought we would be tangled at the roots. I think we are. (I've never made such noise. I've never come so hard, or come so far in such a short time.) You're an exemplar piss-elegance is not reserved for boys. Tonight we'll go out in our gangster suits.

3. Last night we went out in our gangster suits, but just across the street to Santerello's, waited past nine for wine. We shone; the fellows noticed. "You have a splendid linen coat," Dimitri told you as he sat us down. (This used to be my local; now it's chic.) A restaurant table's like a bed: we speak the way we do calmed after love, alone in the dark. There's a lot to get to know. We felt bad; we felt better. Soon I was laid back enough to drink around the bend. You got me home, to bed, like an old friend. I like you, Rachel, when you're scared, because you tough it out while you're feeling it through.

4. You tough it out while you're feeling it through: sometimes the bed's rocked over tidal waves that aren't our pleasures. Everyone behaves a little strangely when they're in a new neighborhood, language, continent, time zone. We got here fast; your jet lag's worse than mine. I only had Paris to leave behind. You left your whole young history. My own reminds me to remind you, waking shaken with tears, dream-racked, is standard for the course. We need accommodation that allows each one some storage space for her dead horse. If the title weren't already taken, I'd call this poem "Directions to My House."

5. I'd call this poem "Directions to My House," except today I'm writing it in yours, in your paisley PJ's. The skylight pours pale sunlight on white blankets. While I douse my brain with coffee, you sleep on. Dream well this time. We'll have three sets of keys apiece: uptown, downtown, Paris on a sublease. Teach me to drive. (Could I teach you to spell?) I think the world's our house. I think I built and furnished mine with space for you to move through it, with me, alone in rooms, in love with our work. I moved into one mansion the morning when I touched, I saw, I felt your face blazing above me like a sun.

6. Your face blazing above me like a sun- deity, framed in red-gold flames, gynandre in the travail of pleasure, urgent, tender terrible—my epithalamion circles that luminous intaglio —and you under me as I take you there, and you opening me in your mouth where the waves inevitably overflow restraint. No, no, that isn't the whole thing (also you drive like cop shows, and you sing gravel and gold, are street-smart, book-smart, laugh from your gut) but it is (a soothing poultice applied to my afflicted part) the central nervous system and the heart

7. The central nervous system and the heart, and whatever it is in me wakes me at 5 am regardless, and what takes me (when you do) ineluctably apart and puts me back together; the too-smart, too-clumsy kid glutted on chocolate cakes (me at ten); the left-brain righteousness that makes me make of our doubled dailiness an art are in your capable square hands. O sweet, possessives make me antsy: we are free to choose each other perpetually. Though I don't think my French short-back-and-sides means I'll be the most orthodox of brides, I broke a glass, got bloodstains on the sheet.

— Marilyn Hacker from Love, Death, and the Changing of the Seasons

[jolliestlolli]

Rimworld Deserters: Day 1 - Day 3

May I introduce you to: Our three starting soldiers.

The Fallen Empire has begun its colonization of a large chunk of the Rimworld known as Porrima Tertiary. Many of the factions that once called this planet home have either been exterminated by the Empire or forced to move on to distant worlds, while those who remain try in vein to reclaim their turf. Amidst this turmoil emerges a shining star of hope for the people of this world, a faction of former soldiers, medics, and civilians who have pledged to their dying breath to eliminate the Imperial parasite spreading across the cosmos.

Unfortunately their efforts have grown more difficult in recent years. The Empire's awareness of the threat they pose has led to countless bloodshed and hardship, causing the faction to splinter and spread across the globe in the hopes that they can lay low long enough to regroup and continue the fight. This is where our story begins:

Elliot De Covas - 27 Years Old: At a young age Elliot was forcibly drafted into an Imperial Youth Training Program. The lack of personal choice made him drag his feet at every opportunity, but the freetime he garnered from refusing to participate helped out his social skills and made him into a natural leader, albeit with a big of a swollen ego. In his early adulthood he made the brave decision to desert the Imperial army and join the up and coming resistance group known as The Wings of The Free Bird.

Zachary "Zach" Mclean - 36 Years Old: Zach was born a sickly child and spent most of his youth safely quarantined in the hospital, where he learned many things about the world of science and medicine, although none of it actually interested him that much. Being stuck in that hospital alone for so much of his youth gave him a few loose screws, but nonetheless he was excited for the day when he received his Bionic Heart and was able to build up his strength like he never could before. Unfortunately this led to him being drafted as one of the Empire's Shipcrackers, where he would break through the hulls of enemy ships and slaughter the entire crew singlehandedly. The stress led him to a bit of a drug problem, which eventually led him to also desert the Empire when the opportunity arose.

Lars Mechtenberg - Age 34 biologically, chronologically he's 134: Lars was a normal kid living in the Empire when he found a secret door in his grandfather's antique shop. No one is really sure what happened next, or if anything happened at all, all that is known is that around 100 years later Lars was found inside of a Cryptosleep Casket with no memory of what exactly he went through. Almost immediately after being pulled out of the casket, Lars was instructed in the art of medicine and forced to become an Infantry Medic. Just like the other two, he became dissatisfied with this life and deserted his position.

We spent day 1 not really doing much besides cleaning up the small outpost that would become our new HQ, and gathering some resources around the area. The only noteworthy thing that happened was it actually rained on the first day in an Arid Shrubland.

On day 2 we started working on a small water transport system and a bathroom cause, well, big boys gotta shit sometime. Elliot and Lars also had a small conversation it the breakfast table. Elliot's quickly making friends with the men who will eventually help him take back the planet (if they don't die in the process of course).

The bathroom came along nicely, just need to work on some plumbing and it'll be all set to use

On day 3 we finished up the plumbing so we can finally stop shitting outside and washing up in the water fountain.

(Ignore the dead cheetah)

Something I plan on doing real soon is breaking into THIS little wall right here and taking on whatever might be inside. With any luck we can recruit the guys in the Cryptosleep pods to our cause.

Something smaller I also did today was build a chess table to keep our guys from going mad with boredom. Or next plan is to build some hot water tanks so they don't have to take cold showers. Although why anyone would want a hot shower in the desert is beyond my understanding.

Also if someone can explain to me why I can't seem to get the Lars to plant anything in our hydroponics base I would be eternally grateful thank uuu

[j-charles]

Coming out/Bella Ramsey

pairing : Bella Ramsey (they/them) x Fem!Oc (She/her)

Summary : Bella and Addie (Adelaide) met at Prince William's charity event. Bella obviously had a crush on Addie, and three months after meeting, they decided to confess their feelings to them love.

Warning : -18! (I've tried)

!!! reminder !!!! I'm a french writer, i've not a perfect english, i'm sorry if i make some mistakes. I want improve my english, so u can tell me when i'm wrong, to help me.Thank u <3

The sun rises on London, especially over Windsor Manor. Addie wakes up with her face lit up by the orange autumn sunshine. She had fallen asleep without closing her curtains, her lips stretched into a smile and with the last sweet spoken to her by her friend Bella.

"Have a good night babe, see u tomorrow &lt;;3"

Every time they use this nickname, the Addie's heart beats very fast, as if it were about to pass through her chest. She finds this weird, 'cause...her and Bella are friends, just friends. No ? In fact, she dunno, she is lost in her feelings and she don't have the brave to talk about it with Bella. Sometimes she feels physically attracted to her friend. Sometimes she fantasises, imagining the brunette's thin lips resting tirelessly on her neck, while her hands roam over her body and-

"- Fuck Adelaïde, are u crazy ? argh...She say to herself. Bella likes u as a friend, nothing more. And u are the Prince William's cousin, u can't be with someone who physically looks like a girl. U can't damage the reputation of the British royal family. Bella are your best friends, and you'll be spending Halloween together."

She take a breath. She has to finish the wings of her fairy costume before the film afternoon.

On their side, Bella takes care of decorating the living room. A pumpkin garland above the TV, a blanket on the sofa, and even skull-shaped nutella cookies. This afternoon turns out to be stressful, even if Bella knows that Addie has a certain code to follow and especially that she may not be attracted to them. They can't longer hide from her what they feel and repress their desires.

When they are together, Bella never knows what to think. The tension is palpable, she is constantly dying to find out more, to run their hands over her pale skin to the most intimate corners.

They want to reassure her, comfort her, visit countries with her, they want to be able to love her and cherish her freely. But, the girl didn't seems gay, or anything like that. Sometimes, she talks about a boy in her school, maybe it's her boyfriend...

Whatever if they risk losing her, they have to be honest and face reality. If Addie doesn't share these feelings, they could move on and stop hurting them by loving her on the sly.

Today is THE day, and if there is a God, maybe things will work out in Bella's favour.

"U open the dore?"

"I'm coming babe"

Adelaide's heart began to pound in her chest, and a smile spread across her face as Bella opened the door for her.

"- Hi ! She says

-Hi babe !

-What are you hiding?

-A surprise, give me a hug and maybe you can see it!

Without waiting another minute, Addie threw herself into her friend's arms.

-Ho Bella! thats so cute...

With tears welling up in her eyes, Adelaide took hold of the bouquet of flowers that her friend had hidden behind them back. And so that they wouldn't notice her tears, she headed for the sofa.

Bella, on the other hand, headed for the kitchen with pink cheeks. They collected the tea and biscuits, before joining the blonde on the sofa. While the latter made sure to settle down at a safe distance, Bella sat down next to her, leaving a tiny space between their two legs.

Tension was already building between the two teenagers. The film they had chosen the day before - Scream 1 - had just started. And Addie forced herself to watch the screen, not to be distracted by her friend, whom she found very attractive in that pirate costume.

Bella meanwhile, can't help staring at the blonde and noting every detail of her face. They found her cute, her and her shifty gaze. Her rosy cheeks give Bella hope and without thinking about it they brush against their opposite's hand to get her attention.

"- What are you do-

She stops talking when her friend gazes into hers. In an instant, the attraction becomes even more oppressive and it is the actors who will give in first. They place a furtive kiss on the lips of their beloved, before observing his reaction.

- Sorry they blow

- Don't.."

Driven by the now certain feelings that inhabit her, the Windsor girl leans confidently to respond to the kiss. It will be longer, their lips move together and shy moans escape from this moment of happiness.

"- I want more

- Me too"

A few minutes later, the film turns and finds itself without spectators. Indeed, once the duo got rid of the troublesome fabrics, the pretty blonde, complexed by her extreme thinness, sighed with pleasure under Bella's tongue movements, their face buried between her thighs.

But the displeased brunettes go up to kiss the shy girl:

"- I want to hear you "

While pronouncing these words, they introduced two fingers. Before starting any movements, they decided to use their thumbs to continue stimulating her clit.

Bella watched with rising excitement as Addie's face twitched in pleasure at her actions.

"- More pls" She whispers

Under the request, they began to move their fingers, always attentive to the uncontrollable expressions of their love. But when the blonde began to moan audibly, the excitement was such that they plunged their faces into her while accelerating their movements.

"-Ah~ Bel...please...."

In a last effort, Adelaide let the ball of pleasure that had formed in her lower abdomen explode. And it was seeing the girl shaking with gasping breath that their orgasm came in turn.

To be continued....

Thank you for reading, give me your opinion and help me improve. Have a good night !!

[morphids]

false pretenses, hange zoë

so im absolutely obsessed with this thank you for putting this idea in my head😰😵‍💫wish i could tag u anon </3

original request here [X]

pairing: college au - engineering student!hange x student!female reader - they/them pronouns for hange, afab anatomy for both

summary: the best way to get what you want is to do it yourself right?

warnings: listen this is real slutty ok, explicit sexual content 18+ minors dni - loser lesbian!hange (hange has that autistic nerd rizz), its always the quiet ones, r thinks she’s slick af, poc friendly- no physical descriptions of reader, kinda-bratty/switch!reader (r gets v subby) top-leaning!Hange (im a top i swear), strap, dirty talk, nicknames, munch activities, fingering, finger sucking, cunnilingus, praise, brief asphyxiation, i cant think of anymore

wc: 4.9k (not proofread)

an: excuse the shitty engineering attempts im not a stem girl!! hope y’all enjoy <3

—

You watched Hange from across the library, gazing over their features as they frowned. Brow creased as they solved equations that your professor had so kindly left everyone to complete after your seminar. Sometimes you’d catch their teeth nip at their bottom lip, in pensive thought.

Hange wasn't around many people, not that you saw anyway, usually kept to themselves or with the same two friends you'd seen them with. Their head often deep into a book or back hunching over a desk working some form of assignment, headphones placed over their hair.

Looking over their face, you studied Hange's strong jaw, the way their slender hand held up the weight of their head as the other scribbled down notes into their notebook. The sluttiest black tank top layered underneath an unbuttoned white dress shirt, draping over baggy brown straight-leg pants. Hair up with so many layers resting against their cheeks, framing their lovely face as multiple strands plumed out from within the hair tie. Their amber eyes lay under small, thin, glasses atop their nose. God, that nose. Perfect to sit on. Perfect to ride to holy heaven.

If it wasn’t clear, you'd had a bit of an eye on Hange for the last semester, they had transferred from a different university a while back. Upon seeing them for the first time, you wanted to speak to them. Their slightly introverted nature had made you keep your distance, though, but it was getting harder to fight the urge to go talk to them. I mean, how weird would that be? Hi, I know you don't know me but I've been obsessed with you since you transferred here? Yeah right.

No, you had to be more creative than that.

You needed a valid reason to speak to Hange so that you didn’t come across as the world’s biggest creep. Luckily for you, Hange was by far the smartest person on campus. Grades always incredibly well above average, scoring top marks in every assignment they’d submitted. So much so, that the professor had pretty much already taken them in under his wing. Due to their helpful nature and extensive knowledge in a fair range of fields, your professor was preparing Hange to be his TA after graduation. Oftentimes, passing Hange over to tutor students in his classes that lacked the grades that were expected of them at this stage in the course.

And even more luckily for you, you seemed to be really struggling with the new module. Or at least that’s what your alibi was. Who needed to know that your grades had actually been consistent passes? You were pretty strong at your theory, but you had only slightly slacked off in your classes during your professors teachings of mathematical methods and linear equations. It couldn’t hurt to get a bit of extra assistance to fill in the missing gaps.

Deciding to bite the bullet, you walked up to Hange, they barely noticed a presence beside, music blaring through the headphones, until your shoes came into their peripheral vision, spotting the black boots right beside the chair.

Their gaze followed up your bare legs, eyes slightly widened as they realised you were indeed about to induce a conversation with them and not just wandering past to get to an actual destination. They removed one cup of their headphones off their ear, holding it up with their fingers so they could listen to you. You noticed the multiple bands resting above their knuckles, bulky metallic rings varied with different patterns and weldings.

“Oh, um— hi?” Hange spoke, slightly confused, they had been deeply distracted into their equations, not anticipating someone coming to speak to them. Definitely not you, of all people.

“Hey, um— sorry to ruin your flow, but I was wondering if you could,” hesitance struck you, feeling your carefully planned script fall apart under Hange’s gaze, eyes still wide and nodding their head as a prompt for you to finish, removing the headphones fully to rest the band on the back of their neck. Why are they so hot, you thought, fumbling over yourself. “If you could tutor me with this module, you’re the smartest person in this place according to Mr. Fritz,” You joked, softening your words with a meek giggle. An attempt to make not make it seem like a big deal even though you could feel your heartbeat thump in your ears and throat.

“You can totally say no, of course,” you quickly added, after realising you didn’t actually offer them an out, not wanting to pressure Hange into having more on their plate than there already was.

Hange’s eyebrows pulled together, lips split as a wash of suspicious perplexity strained their features, only for a second before returning to normal. Back to their friendly warmth with an amiable smile stretched on their lips.

“Sure, I’d love to help,” Their eyes held yours, you to let out a faint breath of relief. “I’ve got a few things to do on campus for a while, but, I can meet you after?”

“That’d be great, thank you!” You offered to exchange phone numbers for ‘easier communication’ to plan around Hange’s schedule, before duly proposing that they come over to your dorm, as the library closed after five o’clock, and your roommates were gone for a week-long field trip.

“I’ll let you know when I’m on the way, then,” They smiled, an amused smirk etching itself on their lips before they could help it.

“That’s perfect, I appreciate it,” You beamed, “I’ll, um, leave you to your equations,” You stepped away, turning around to make your exit from the library. Hange didn’t miss the way your eyes fell onto their lips for just, perhaps, a little bit too long than was deemed socially conventional, or the way you seemed to grow flustered as they stimmed with their fingers. Hange’s gaze followed you as you walked on, trailing down to your exposed legs underneath a short skirt that hung over thick, sinuous thighs. Hange looked back down at their notebook, as they chuckled, shaking their head with endearment at your crafty deceit.

Hange certainly isn’t stupid, due to their proximity working with the professor, they were painfully aware of the more… problematic students in Mr. Fritz’ class. You were never one of them. In fact, he had even used some of your past assignments as example guidelines for the newer students. Needing help with the easiest part of the module? No way were they believing that.

—

A knock at your door, and you smoothened the fabric of your clothes, hoping to reduce any lingering creases or maybe even just to calm your nerves. You had tidied up, making your bedroom look more presentable and less like a cove of disordered chaos.

Opening the door, there stood Hange, handsome and ravishing in all their tall glory. A hand reached up to stabilise the one strap of their backpack that hung on their shoulder, the other strap dangling behind. You tried to stop, you really did, but you trailed over their figure, lured into their nonchalant stance that just exuded casual confidence as they looked back at you, an eyebrow cocked up.

Breaking contact, you welcomed them in, Hange dropped their backpack onto the floor to relieve the weight of all the heavy textbooks from their shoulders. Hand raising back up to remove the headphones from their neck, placing them atop their bag, hooked on the top handle.

You sat at your couch, leaving enough space for Hange to comfortably place themselves on. Trying to be discreet, you watched as they took off their dress shirt, hanging it on the arm of the couch, you presumed Hange was using the layer against the slightly cooler breeze outside— you couldn’t lie, you were kinda glad to see it off. Hange’s bicep was well sculpted against their black tank top as it melted into toned forearms. Tanned and strong. There was a brown cord bracelet dangling from their wrist as they rested it on their propped up knee. God, I’m no better than a man, you thought.

“So, what’d you need help with?” Hange pushed up their glasses with their ringed index finger, you wondered if that was something they often did subconsciously before beginning a task.

“Linear algebra and probability theory,”

“Hmm,” Hange nodded, a short tug at the corner of their lips, leaning their elbows on the top of their thighs, “Yeah, that stuff is pretty hard, but,”

“What did you score on the last exam?” Hange turned their head your way, amber eyes meeting yours, with a devious look.

You froze, shit. It felt like a trick question, surely Hange didn’t know the score you totalled? Surely, Hange didn’t know that you were just seven marks from a full score? It almost felt as if they were luring you into a trap; to see if you’d double down with the lie and continue with this facade or if you’d crack and admit defeat. Lose-lose either way, you’d end up embarrassed or having to make yourself look incredibly foolish.

Voice breaking in your throat, you held eye contact. Whereas Hange’s was steady and sharp, yours felt like you were just exposing yourself further the longer you remained silent.

“I-I don’t remember,” A neutral answer, you decided, totally not because you had been rendered nonverbal, clearing your throat and seeing the way Hange’s lips stretched fully into a knowing smirk.

“Hmm, you don’t remember,” They were definitely mocking you now, voice low, humming and melodic as you felt the thunder in your chest beat. You looked down at your thighs, fingers fiddling with a loose hem on your skirt.

“Getting the impression I wasn’t invited over for some homework,” They chuckled, leaning back against the support of the couch, arm stretching over the top.

One sentence and it was out in the open, the illusion you thought was so deceiving completely shattered as your true intentions came to light. Yup, embarrassing, just as you thought.

“So, why don’t you tell me the actual reason you invited me over,” If the last sentence was a stab to your confidence, this one was an extra twist in the wound. Hange was smirking at you, the mirthful look in their eyes showing you that they were relishing in your embarrassment and flustered face.

You swallowed a deep breath, feeling your skin ignite both with anticipation and nerves so lethal you almost wanted to bury yourself underneath the seat, never to be seen again.

“I, uh—“ you mumbled, the script had truly crumbled, you had no plan B apart from just spewing out the truth. You’d die before you had to do that.

“You seem a bit flustered,” Hange hummed, leaning on the back of the couch, as their thighs came to spread, “Why’s that, hm?”

The unlevelled confidence that radiated from them just seemed to further your own unease. It wasn’t often you felt that way, usually being the one to initiate flirtations with others. Yet, everything about Hange just seemed to drag you into a state of bashfulness, totally out of character as you failed to make eye contact.

“Will you look at me, love?”

You ceded, eyes meeting, as you let out a sigh. Hange placed a testing hand upon your bare knee, tentative runs of their thumb over the skin. Soft, Hange thought. The feeling eliciting shivers down your spine, warm waves down to your core, reducing you to a state of feeling unreasonably touch-starved. Hange gazed down your thighs, deliciously covered by the fabric of your skirt, moistening the edge of their upper lip with the tip of their tongue, before flickering their eyes back to you.

“What is it you really want?”

Fuck. A short gasp escaped your throat as their hand trailed up, fingers reaching underneath the hem of the short skirt. Hange was toying with you, no doubt about it.

“I… I wanted to speak to you,”

Humming, their hand moved further, “Why?”

“I found you…” you paused when their fingertips skimmed over your panties, your thighs twitched. “C-captivating, needed a reason to speak to you,”

Hange chuckled, as they leaned forward to reach the bottom of your ear, your breath hitching as their lips ghosted over the skin.

“You could’ve just asked, pretty,” Hange’s voice whispered against your ear, as you closed your eyes. You were so down bad.

“Think I haven’t noticed you, huh?” One light kiss at your skin, “Think I haven’t seen the way you stare at me?” Another kiss, ever so gentle that you almost melted into them, biting back a needy groan. Hange’s hand squeezed at your thigh, fingers towards your centre, just barely grazing over the fabric.

“I mean—god, darling, if you wanted me to fuck you that badly all you needed to do was ask nicely,” Hange’s teeth nipped at your lobe, drawing out the skin with it.

“So, ask me nicely,”

Another squeeze at your inner thigh, and no longer could you withhold the groan that you’d been holding back. You were fighting so many demons right now, hesitant to verbalise your inner desires. Hange remained near your ear, licking at the soft skin. Fuck it.

“I want you so fucking bad,” Your voice came out so much whinier than you expected, used to hearing that tone from others, but never from yourself.

“Aren’t you gonna say please?” They chuckled, dragging it out, teasing. Hange eyed the pout at your lips, the slight frown in your brows—could tell you were used to getting what you wanted easily, to not submitting. They planned to fix that.

“Fucks sake—please, Hange,” You pressed your thighs together, trapping Hange’s hand as they gripped you, as a prompt for them to do something, anything.

“Better.”

With their other hand, the one not currently trapped in between your legs, Hange grabbed at your hip. Kneading over your hip bone, where the dainty zip of your skirt dangled. The sensation caused your thighs to loosen autonomously, as Hange opportunely released their hand an inch. Slipping underneath the hem of your damp panties, fingers teasing at your slit, collecting your slick.

“You this messy just for me?” Their sinful, warm words made you shiver, goosebumps down your arms as they hit your ear. You wriggled, skirt rolled up to your hips, exposing your panties. Messy, indeed. You were growing impatient as you attempted to roll your hips into their hand, craving contact. Hange’s fingers recoiled, pushing from your slit pulling the fabric with as they tutted. Tightening their other hand on your hip once more, stilling your movements.

“C’mon, surely you’ve figured out how this works by now,” Hange’s words sounded so sweet, if it wasn’t for the absolute torture lurking underneath. Eager to tease and play with you for as long as it would take for you to actually listen and cede. With a brattish groan and a sigh, you nodded.

“Words, darling, use them.”

“Y-yes, shit—all for you, Hange.” Voice breathy, avidly impatient. Your core leaked more slick when it clenched, totally ruining your panties as it clung to your folds. The sight absolutely delectable. “I need you so bad—can’t take it,”

There it was. Finally.

“Was that so hard?” Hange hummed, a satisfied smirk creeping over their lips as they teased a finger down your slit, only slightly breaking through your entrance. Pressing your lips against theirs as you whimpered into the kiss, biting at Hange’s plump bottom lip.

“Now then, be a good girl and stay put.”

Hange pressed their finger fully into you, soon adding another two once they saw how keenly you were taking them already, walls wet and ready. Your head fell into Hange’s neck, meek moans spilling from your mouth as their slender fingers hit the back of your squishy walls.

Without removing themselves from your warm heat, Hange cased a hand at your ass, pulling you on top of their lap. Using their clothed thigh to rut their fingers up even further, other hand forcing your hips into gyration against them. The friction from their jeans hit against your sensitive clit and with their fingers inside you, you were a hot mess already. Needy and desperate from their heartless teasing.

“Ah—that’s…fucking good,” You hissed, as Hange lapped their tongue down your neck, before sucking, branding you with many dark marks leading down to your chest.

Catching the hem of your shirt, you threw your arms up to discard it, revealing your breasts to the room’s cool air, heaving up and down with heavy breaths. Hange almost moaned at the sight of you, shirtless with a short skirt pooled around your hips, draping over their knees. Of course you weren’t wearing a bra, they thought. As Hange thrust their fingers into you, their mouth wrapped over your nipples, flicking over them with their tongue. Nipping lightly over the peaks. You arched your back into them, feeling yourself grow closer, the tension in your abdomen building as you bit your lip.

Your hips lost their rhythm, aimlessly chasing the feeling of Hange’s fingers deep within you. Languid gasps and breathless moans escaping your lips. So, so close to your peak until the sensation was suddenly stripped away, leaving you totally empty. Hange removing their fingers, you could hear your own slick cry as they did, your walls tensing.

“Wha-“ You were a bit dazed, a truthfully a little annoyed, you had been so close.

“You’ve not earned it yet,” Hange laughed, clearly relishing in your frustration. They liked this, liked making you destitute, left wanting. Hange had every intention of fixing that sugared insolence they could see within you. Had every intention of tearing it inside out.

Hange reached down to their leather belt, maintaining eye contact as they unclasped the metal peg, lifting you up off their knees slightly to pull their jeans down, before removing their tank top. Their chest rose up and down, bound beneath a black binder. You could see their own centre soaking through their underwear. You ogled their figure, groaning as your sinful thoughts worsened. The kind of imagination that would surely commit you to purgatory indefinitely.

Hange pecked your charming pout away, before bringing their soaked fingers up in front of your mouth. Spreading your lips open with their thumb, shoving it inside so you could taste your own slick on it. Their other fingers followed suit.

“Clean up your mess,”

Hange watched you, your lips bruised and plump as they split to allow entrance for their index and middle finger. Sucking your juices off them as you moaned, gagging as they hit the back of your throat. Brows pinched and eyes brimmed with tears from the hot burn. Hange’s thumb pressed against your bottom teeth, pulling your jaw open, a line of drool slipping out from the corner of your open mouth. Hange would kill just about anyone for you, they thought. Irreversibly addicted to you, your needy eyes and the way you fell to follow their orders.

“So beautiful,”

Hange hung over you. Looking into your glassy eyes, with the hold against your jaw, pinky finger at your chin, they held your mouth open, spitting on your tongue.

“Swallow.”

You did. Quite happily as you groaned, muffled as your mouth was stuffed. Feeling yourself grind against Hange’s bare thigh, your core clenching around nothing as you yearned for the feeling of their fingers back inside you. Your inner thighs completely soaked, spreading it all over Hange’s bare legs.

“Such a good girl—so obedient for me,” They hummed, relieving their attack on your mouth, taking their fingers out and grasping the back of your neck, “Wonder if anyone else has ever slut you out like this, hm?”

You shut your eyes, leaning into their touch as you whined out a passive ‘No’, shaking your head to Hange’s question, not fully trusting the strength of your own voice. Fuck, you were totally gone, lost in salacity and paralysed by your own thirst. Almost brain-dead as your desire thumped in your ears, and throbbed at your core. About to explode from your own ardour as it’d eagerly been building up. Hange was divinely addictive, a substance you should never have risked trying. You could never possibly go back now, too ruined to ever possibly go to anyone else. Totally and utterly hooked on Hange.

“Aw, look how docile you are now, pretty.”

Hange kissed at your neck, coming back up to meet your lips again as you mewled against them.

“H-Hange— please, need more,” You squirmed against their lap, “Can’t take it, need to cum so badly,” You were finally begging, hesitation leaving you to fend for yourself as Hange had you right where they wanted.

“Yeah? How do you want it, baby?”

In between strained breaths, you pointed to your drawers. Strategically placed next to the couch, as Hange reached over. Chuckling once they saw your strap in its resting place.

“This what you want?”

Nodding, you rutted against Hange’s thigh, forcing some friction to rub against your clit.

“Please, fuck,” You sobbed, visions of Hange stuffing you with your strap forcing you to squeeze your thighs against Hange’s lap.

“Since you asked so nicely,”

Hange gently nudged you off their lap, to allow them to slide the harness over their thighs. You sat beside them, legs folded underneath yourself. Hand placed delicately on the side of their head, pressing sweet kisses down the skin of their neck as they adjusted the harness to fit around the circumference of their thighs. Hange shivered under your lips, eyes shutting as they indulged in the sensation for a moment, cursing as you began to lick under their lobe. You were delightful.

Hange’s hand danced along your thigh, fingers streaming past your slit as they groaned at how unbelievably wet you were.

“You’re fucking sublime,” They groaned, dragging you over their lap, hands ripping both the skirt and your ruined panties off your legs. Hange laid their back on the couch, folding your bare thighs over their jaw. You bit your lip in keen anticipation, it was almost as if you had manifested this.

“Fuck—Hange, I’ve dreamt about this for so fucking long,” Your legs twitched above Hange’s face, as a radiant smirk shone on their lips.

“Yeah? Thought about this?” Their hands clung around the plush skin of your ass, fingers squeezing tightly. They pulled you on to a steady stream along their face, teased a lick up your folds before your slit was pressed down against their flat tongue, lapping up your slick as their nose rubbed over your clit.

“F-fuck, so much—was just like this,” You gasped as you rode Hange’s face, watching dumbly as their face contorted with gluttonous solace. Eyebrows creasing as they focused on eating you out. You crumbled, finally feeling some release after being teased for what felt like many unbearable hours. Truly, it was better than you could have imagined, Hange’s fly-aways catching on their cheeks and the sides of their face as they grew dampened, your slick slapping their cheeks and fogging up their glasses from splatters and wet heat.

Resting your hand on their knees for stability, your fingers acted on their own as you came to reach underneath the strap that was dangled in the air, waiting to be used. Your fingers came to meet Hange’s folds, sliding easily past their sensitive labia, nearly as wet as your own, aching. Having been unbearably turned on since they saw your body’s visceral responses to them.

“That’s—so fucking hot, shit,” You whimpered, lost in the feeling of Hange’s insistent tongue slowly flicking deep against you and the way their centre seemed to just suck your fingers right in. Hange let out a muffled, guttural grunt into you, the vibrations making you clamp your thighs tight against their head. You almost felt apologetic, if it wasn’t for Hange, who seemed to get riled up by the very prospect of being choked out by your luscious thighs. Oxygen supply decreasing as amber eyes rolled into the back of their head, toned arms pulling you closer against them. Leaving behind marks on your skin that outlined where their fingers had been digging in.

Whilst simultaneously, you were plunging your fingers knuckles deep into their entrance. Your body leaning back as you bucked your wrist against them, fingers curling inwards against their walls. Hange’s eyes were stuck on you, watching as your body rocked against their mouth. Head hung back and breasts perked up as beads of sweat trickled down, illuminating your skin, the fine hairs around your stomach standing upright. Looking properly, they spotted a few moles scattered on your stomach, your lips were swollen as they bit out mutters of curses under your breath. Still trying to return the favour even despite feeling ruined. How divine.

The sight alone brought Hange to their knees, hazy pleasure erupting through them as they felt their body tremble. Truthfully, Hange seldom let people touch them, opting to typically give rather than receive, yet they felt like giving you permission to do whatever you wished with their body. They were so hypersensitive, extra responsive under your ambrosial touch. Debauched gasps melted into your core, still lapping at your slick as they rode through their own peak. Shuddering, as they seized their thighs against your wrist.

“Did you cu-“ Your excited, breathy voice was cut off by Hange grabbing your wrist, ripping your fingers out of themselves from overstimulation, their centre tensing with arousal dripping down their folds. Hange nodded as an affirmative, you could tell they were slightly stunned. Hange held your wrist against your back, elbow folding over as they lifted themselves up. Disconnecting your slit from their mouth, and moving you around as you returned to facing each other, your legs resting over their lap once more.

Hange’s spare hand caressed your jaw, uniting your lips together as they melded over yours. Sloppy, open-mouthed kisses, slipping their tongue into your mouth. You whined as they angled the tip of the strap over your folds, your slick lubricating the plastic. Hange was frenzied, desperately needing to see you stuffed with the silicone length. Elated from their own high, their words grew more depraved.

“Need to fuck this pussy,” They rasped, voice at the lowest frequency you’d heard from them, “Prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen,”

Your lips parted as Hange slipped the tip inside, stretching your walls out as you gripped onto their shoulders. Hissing as you adjusted to Hange burying themselves into your tender flesh. Sinking yourself down on the strap as your hips undulated against them, pressure building up again within your abdomen as Hange fucked the strap deep into you. Tip massaging over your inner walls, repeatedly hitting that same spot that made your breath catch in your throat and your vision go white.

“Fuc—keep going, pleas—please,” Mewling, you shut your eyes, eyebrows furrowing as your nails came to scratch at Hange’s back. Your words coming out in broken sobs, tears spilling down your cheeks as you were split apart on your own strap.

“So full—Hange—“

Hange sucked against your neck, then licking over the sore spots.

“Taking me so well,” Hange praised, voice sweetly laden with saccharine honey, “Sat so pretty on my cock,”

“ngh—Shit-I-I’m gonna come,” You were shaking, thighs trembling and abdomen twitching. Finally about to release after being so cruelly edged twice. The expression on your way was picture-worthy, fucked out and wanton.

“That’s it,” Hange kept rutting up into you, muttering praises, “Come all over me, baby,” A nibble at your earlobe and you were done for. Your climax reached you, tensing up your spine, mouth agape as you shuddered, face contorted.

“You look so pretty when you come,”

Your core tightened as you spilled out your release; the force pushing the strap out from inside you, squirting all over Hange’s lap. The hardest you’ve ever come in your life.

Hange didn’t relent just yet, making sure to fuck you through your peak so you could ride every second of it. When you finally stilled, your head fell onto Hange’s neck, murmuring softly against their clavicle. Sighing, you lifted your head up, greeting Hange’s half-lidded eyes with your own. A beat and Hange reconnected your lips together, gently kissing you as you came down. Mind still fuzzy and reeling. Their hands caressed your hips, thumbs running down your skin.

“You’re beautiful,” Hange whispered, pressing a tender peck down against your swollen lips, “Wish you would’ve talked to me earlier,”

You laughed, breathy and uneven, as bashfulness struck again. Once the cloud of lust had settled, you were left with nerves, that doe look back in your eyes as you weren’t quite sure what to do now. What if Hange never wants to see you again? After all of this, you don’t think you could handle being emotionally ghosted. It was unlike you entirely, but the interest in Hange remained, simmering as you relished in their tight hold— a hold that almost promised you it wasn’t going to leave. You dared to dream.

“What are you thinking about?” Hange muttered, resting their forehead against yours, eyes closing.

“Um…” You hummed, hesitant, “This, I guess, I’m a little… nervous,”

“I guess I am, too,” They chuckled, pressing their head closer, hands still setting your skin aflame, “But, i-if you’d like to, I wanna take you out,” Pausing, “On a real date, that is, not under false tutoring pretences,”

You pulled your head back, trying to suppress the smile that threatened to stretch, an attempt at masking the hopeful beam in your eyes.

“I’d love that.”

—

listen u guys 😭 someone pls sedate me or give me a lobotomy cos what am i meant to do when i PINE over 2d characters

let me know if u guys enjoyed <3 i love to read ur comments and inputs

[serialfirstdater]

London #7: The Risk Manager

Remember how in previous entries I mentioned that the first-ever Thursday Dating event I attended in London gave me results? As in either I am befriending people or going on dates?

This entry is no exception.

Flashing back to when I was at the event at the rooftop bar, I was attached to the new introverted friend I adopted under my extroverted wing. She and I were bombarded by men in non-stop conversations.

About an hour and a half later, sometime after the chat I was locked into with the Older Australian Product Manager, a group of people came up to us.

"I found the Asians!" A tall, slim clearly half-Asian, half-white guy came rushing over. He was with a younger female friend, who happened to be on a dare where she couldn't speak for an hour and the Swedish Yogi. The half-Asian guy was a chatter and very extroverted.

I quickly learned the guy was half English, and half Chinese but was Asian to the core. I thought he was cute, and was honestly the only person I was keen on going out on a date with that night. However, when I gave him my number, he mentioned how we should all hang out as a group. That was when I thought he was not interested in me and perhaps only wanted to be friends.

I didn't hear from him in the next couple of days and thought that was the end of that.

The following week, I swiped on the Thursday app and came across a cute half-Asian, half-white guy who liked my profile. I wasn't sure if it was the guy I met at the Thursday event because I recalled his name to be different than what was on his profile.

We matched and started chatting until we realized that we indeed met at the event! Turns out he goes by his first and middle name, depending on which name he introduces himself to you as.

I had my date with the Older Australian Product Manager that day so I quickly gave him my number to WhatsApp me since I knew I was going to be busy before our chat closed.

We chatted on and off throughout that week. That upcoming Thursday (two weeks since we first met), I was going to another Thursday event with the friend I made at the first event. She suggested I invite the guy along and mentioned it would be cute if we dated. I told her I would love to, but I wasn't sure if he was going to ask me out or wanted to be friends.

I told him which venue we'd be at and he could join us if he wanted to. He told me he had dinner plans but was down to come out for a bit.

On the day, my friend and I had some food at Spitalfields Market before we walked to the event. When we got there, a man with an eye patch approached us and I didn't recognize him for a second. Turns out, he got punched pretty badly in the eye by a random stranger.

He was with us initially and encouraged us to meet new men. I told him he was blocking men from talking to us and he laughed, saying he would make conversation with other people then.

My friend and I mingled for a bit and after he came back, he hugged us before leaving to dinner saying he might come back. The rest of the night my friend and I tried to navigate the dating event.

He and I continued to chit-chat throughout the week and he had to go to Wales (or Scotland?) for a marathon but said we should catch up upon his return. To be honest, all the way to this point, this man was not even considered to be on my roster. We chatted sparingly so I kept forgetting about him until he messaged me.

Roughly a month later after we first met on that fated Thursday event, we finally had our first date.

The Date

I had brunch with a new friend in the afternoon. I wasn't sure if I was still going to have my date because there was no confirmation the day prior.

I was ready to enjoy the rest of my day solo after brunch when I got a message on WhatsApp while eating.

"Hey, I'm sorry for the late reply. Work has been busy. Are we still good for 3 PM?"

I wrote back that it was fine since I was in the area where we agreed to meet originally. I told my friend that the date was back on after all.

My friend left to go home for work and I waited around Covent Garden. After a couple of WhatsApp message exchanges about where I was located, I saw a tall lanky familiar figure approach me.

We made our way to a bar that he was excited to take me to. That was when I learned he was in risk management and worked for his father's company. Although we had met twice prior, the topic of work never came up until then.

He first led me to a Canadian bar, saying that it was his favourite place. I looked around and gave him the, "Are you kidding me?" face. He laughed and admitted he had never been here but thought I would feel at home. We left when he saw I was not enthused to stay.

He tried a couple of other places but failed, so I suggested a rooftop bar that overlooked Covent Garden which I visited just prior with my friend. He bought me a couple of drinks, chatting away about whatever crossed our minds. He took a time-lapse video of the street below and showed an older gentleman beside him how to do it.

We moved to another bar that was attached to a cinema, where he had a membership. He told me he used to go there all the time to work when he was doing his Master's nearby. When we got to the open rooftop, I casually asked what the building across from us was.

"That's St. Paul's Cathedral."

I didn't really react and said oh. I realized that he was yanking my chain because he burst out laughing when he saw that I fell for his fib. For the next hour, he made fun of me for thinking the building was St. Paul's Cathedral.

It was a bit tiring to get ripped on the same topic for the next while, but it wasn't so much of a bother when you like someone. He poked fun at me with his words as he sat beside me. The chemistry was building up between us along with the banter.

He said something, I forgot what before he went in to kiss me because we were facing each other. It was natural, flirty, and something I greatly enjoyed. This rarely happens in my dating experience, so I much appreciated it.

The flirtation and lip-locking continued for the next couple of hours. Transitioning away from the rooftop members' bar, we walked to Trafalgar Square. The banter continued and his British side came out, with the alcohol courage that had him interacting with random passersby. I was a little embarrassed and would tug him away but he paid no heed.

After he grabbed another drink at a different bar, he led me to the tube station with my hand in his and I asked him where we were going. He said his friend wanted to see a concert and I was welcome to join them.

Considering I was already following him, I was down for another adventure. He took me to Camden and I met his friend. She mentioned how they've been friends for years and that he's a great guy. She also shared how she was moving out of London to date someone who she's been with for the last six months. She was utterly adorable and someone I would love to be friends with personally.

When the concert was about to start, we headed to the venue. The Risk Manager bought my ticket and this was when I discovered the Brazilian Samba Rap genre. It was an absolute blast and I was thrilled to have allowed myself to go with the experience. This is exactly why I love living in London.

One thing led to another and I ended up at the Risk Manager's place.

I will admit, that the Risk Manager is someone I'm still trying to get over, despite this date being almost a month ago. He and his ex are still trying to figure things out so I bowed out from going on any further dates until that's been resolved.

Will this story arc continue? Who knows. The romantic in me hopes so, but the realist in me is tempering out all expectations in case it never happens. I'm trying to rebuild my roster in the meantime.

The Lesson

My best friend always told me she needed that chemistry from the get-go, otherwise she felt that it would not work out with the guy.

I have always been on the belief that it is not necessary. Primarily because guys I have normally been insanely attracted to, never in my experience liked me the same way back. So over the years, I have learned to accept that as long as I don't find the guy horrendous in appearance and I could see potential in him, I'd give him another date.

My date with the Risk Manager showed me I could have everything I wanted, along with all the shallow great-to-haves.

Physical attraction

Sexual chemistry

Banter

I am comfortable being authentically me on the date

He's very generous

Taller than me (Risk Manager is 6'2)

Very good job

Owns his own place

To top it all off, he's quite Asian despite being half

And most importantly, THE MAN RECIPROCATED INTEREST.

Thinking back at my dating history, or if anyone here is bored enough to re-read older entries, I had this with NO ONE ELSE. Perhaps a close friend who knows my dating history, including guys I did not write about, can let me know if I am incorrect.

This is a little depressing because out of 31 years of my life, I have not had the above packaged into one guy. Even though I'm not crying over him, my brain is having a hard time detaching from the idea of him. Especially since I knew he was interested in continuing to take me out but I did not want to get caught up in the mess if he ultimately decides to return to his ex.

Knowing that I could have all I wanted and it being reciprocated now makes it harder for me on the dating scene. I will continue to keep an open mind but now I am doubling down that I cannot settle for anything less than what I want.

My dating life now is a little too boring being this healed lol.