#sorry sorry sorry i just have. so many feelings about it. FUCK

[thinkinonsense]

Sweet Temptations.

logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: fingering, oral (f receiving), innocence kink, inexperienced reader, darkish!logan

a/n: hi! sorry i've been gone so long! i have plenty of stuff in the works but for now here's this. i'm working on making a mini-series of dark!logan x inexperienced!reader so i hope everyone enjoys! <3

to think, logan almost went out to the bar tonight. almost left to find a one night stand or come home and fuck his hand. tonight could've had so many different outcomes but luckily, he ended up with the best one.

there's a light knock on his bedroom door. he knew it had to have been you since everyone was on a field trip a couple hours away for the night. logan obviously wasn't interested in going and you were busy working on an experiment in the laboratory.

in all reality, logan just wanted an excuse to stay here alone with you overnight. ever since he joined the x-men and met you down in the lab in that cute white coat and pretty smile, he's had a crush on you.

"hi, logan." you smile softly when he opens his door.

"hey, dollface. you need something?" he asks, leaning against his door frame and eyeing that short little nightgown of yours.

"can we talk?"

"sure."

the two of you walk into logan's room and sit on the end of his bed. you sit up on your knees, facing him. he can tell that something is on your mind but you're unsure on if you should confide in him or not.

"is everything alright?" he asks, growing concerned.

you nod, chewing on your bottom lip.

"whatcha wanna talk about then, sweets?"

logan's large hand rubs your knee softly, almost coaxing the words out of you.

"would you do me a big favor?" you ask, avoiding his hazel gaze.

"of course."

there's slight hesitation. you were afraid of logan's reaction to your request. after a deep breath, you remind yourself that it's just logan. the same logan who trains with you every morning, the same logan who plays with your hair when he's board, the same logan who praises you for all your hard work in the laboratory. there was nothing to be afraid of.

"c-can you take my virginity?"

the question almost killed logan. he though he had died and gone to heaven. you finally look at him with a twinkle in your eyes and he feels the need to adjust the tent growing in his pants.

"where'd this idea come from, sweetheart?"

"well, i was seeing a guy a while ago who acted really weird when i told him i was still a virgin then when i told storm and jean, they told me that if i'm ready to do it, than it should be with someone i trust." you explain so innocently to him. "i just figured since you've always been so gentle with me and i trust you so, i was kinda hoping you wouldn't mind."

never in his wildest dreams could logan have imagined this happening. you sitting pretty on his bed, practically begging him to take your virginity. god, logan couldn't even remember the last time he was with a virgin. must've been decades ago.

"that's real sweet, dollface. 'f course i'll do it." he says, watching your smile grow with excitement. "first i need to know what you've already done."

"i've kissed while sitting in someone's lap, given a hickey twice... maybe three times? some nights i'll rub myself against one of my pillows."

even though he knew the answer, he had to ask,"ever fingered yourself?"

"no." you shake your head, almost making logan moan at just the thought of being the first person to do that to you.

"want to try it?"

"s-sure but i thought we were gonna–"

"we will." logan assures. "need to get you loosened up first if you want me to fit inside of you."

a small gasp exists your lips, making him chuckle. logan leans, testing the waters to see how you kiss. he's a bit shocked by how you pull him closer to deepen it. you moan into his mouth while your hands roam his hair. he sits you in his lap and lets you grind yourself on top of him, showing him what you know.

"let's see if you're nice and wet for me." logan hums, lifting up your nightgown and feeling the wet spot over your underwear. "very good, dollface."

without thinking, you let out a tiny moan next to his ear because of his praise. he can't help but pull your head from its hiding spot in his neck to look at you.

"you like when i tell you how good you're being for me?" he ask, watching your face contort as your hips keep moving. one of his hands rests on your waist, stopping you from moving. "c'mon, you can tell me."

"mhm..." you nod. "love when you praise me."

suddenly, your back is pressed flat against his sheets as he kisses all down your body. leaving little marks here and there until he reaches the waist band of your pretty pink underwear.

"did you wear these just for me, princess?" he asks, placing a kiss right over the cotton covering your button.

"y-you said i looked p-pretty in pink."

as the words stumble out of your mouth, logan feels a warmth spread across his heart. a couple months ago, you were wearing a new pink dress and as logan passed you by, he mentioned how pretty you looked in the color. it meant a lot to you.

"you still do." he says. "can i take these off of you, baby?"

you nod, lifting your hips a little to help him. logan tosses the pink cotton somewhere behind him. lifting up the nightgown to your tummy, eyes glued to the spot in between your legs.

"didn't think you could get any prettier." logan mumbles to himself.

his intense gaze made you feel a bit vulnerable, trying to close your legs but his large hands stop you.

"don't hide from me, princess." he says, capturing your attention. " 'm gonna make you feel good."

logan carefully drags his thumb through your slit, collecting the arousal and circling it around your button. the feather like touch sends your head back and whimpers to fall from your lips. gently, logan pushes his middle finger past your velvet walls, groaning once you clench around him.

"atta girl, princess." he smirks watching you swallow up his finger. "takin' it so good."

logan watches in awe as your head fall back and the arch in your back. slowly he inches his face closer and licks a thick stripe up your fold before sucking softly on your button. you feel logan muffle 'fuck' against you, only resulting in more arousal to spill out of you.

"o-oh, logan." you moan, hips chasing his tongue feverishly.

since this was your first time, logan went easy on you, not making you work for your orgasm. he feels your cunt clench down on his one finger as it hits deep inside of you until you are seeing stars. with logan's other free hand, he paws at your tit and rolls it in his palm.

"need m-more!" you whimper with glossy eyes and lips. "p-please, lo."

in an attempt to give you what you want, logan struggles to hit another finger inside of you. he wasn't sure what he did to deserve this type of heaven but god, was he thankful for it.

"i can't, sweetheart." he groans, kissing your hip bone as he speeds up the finger inside of you. "you're too tight for two of my fingers. there's no way i'll be able to fit inside of you tonight."

before you could whine in protest, this indescribable wave of euphoria washes over you. smooth silky legs wrap tightly around logan's head. thighs covers his ears, blocking out the sweet sounds you were making. logan goes back to sloppily making out with your cunt until you weakly pull him off and drag him up to your lips, tasting your own release on his tongue.

"thanks, lo." you smile in a daze at him.

"anytime." he says. "i think you'll need another lesson soon though if you want to take all of me. do you want that, princess?"

he could feel your heart rate increase eagerly. you blush intensely and avoid his gaze as you nod.

"alright." he chuckles darkly. "but first, you gotta show me how you get off on your pillow."

[deadhands69]

Ramen & Rain

Katsuki Bakugo x gn Reader

Ramen Date

just a weird fluff Bakugo fic mostly written at 3am. not quite the direction it was intended to go but it still ends ish as planned. mentions of angst, turns into fluff.

“Sorry for your breakup,” you say to the messy haired blonde seated next to you at the hero rankings after-party, “are you doing okay?”

“Huh?” he grumbled before remembering the bullshit his PR team spun earlier that week. 

“Oh, that.�� He sits uncomfortably, staring down the tablecloth at the tiny high top the two of you were perched at. “Um, that was fake.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah, my PR team thinks it’ll humanize me to date likable people so they have me take models and whatever on dates.” He pauses, considering if he’d like to tell you the next part, “and a few times they also did this when I was photographed with one night stands. I guess that’s not so likable either or something,” he mumbles down at his lap.  

Your thoughts flash back to every headline you’d read about pro-hero Dynamite’s intriguing love life. Much to his team’s credit, you did fall for it.

“So, you haven’t actually dated any of those girls in the pictures?” 

“Nope,” his finishes his drink, hoping the glass blocked at least some of his blushing face.

“Have you dated anyone?”

“Have you?” he retorts, barely able to make eye contact.

Please say no, he hopes. 

He tried to ask you out once, in your second year of high school together. But he was going through some things. And you are you. He couldn’t imagine you being interested in anything but perfect when it’s what you deserve. One day, he figured, he could give you that. So he waited.

And of course you had no idea he liked you. Not when his way of showing it was hitting you harder while sparing, having higher expectations of you than everyone else, and exploding at you every time you so much as glanced at him (because he thought you caught him staring.)

“Well, there was Shouto in high school,” you begin.

Of course Bakugo knows about this, he hated it. 

You and Shouto had been best friends since halfway through your first year. So, it didn't surprise too many people in your third year when he asked you to go out with him. Of course you had a massive crush on him for years at that point. He's beautiful, who in your class hadn't been into him?

And it was… Cute. 

While it lasted. 

You held hands. He walked you to class. The two of you always had meals together, but it felt different once you were officially together. You never kissed or anything but that's okay, it was new. 

Exactly nine days and four hours is when it all came crashing down. 

Feeling worked after training, you went to bed early. You'd meet up with your boyfriend in the morning. No big deal. 

Little did you know, your puppy love relationship was falling apart before your head even hit the pillow. 

“Hey, Icy Hot! What are you doing checking out Ponytail when you're already dating the hottest person in our class?” Bakugo berated Todoroki. 

Confused, he responded as bluntly as he ever did, “but y/n isn't the hottest one in our class. Momo is.”

Katsuki’s red eyes pierced through him, clearly he was missing something. 

“Wait, are you not dating y/n??”

“No, I am.”

“...then what the fuck.”

After much back and forth, it came out that Iida told Todoroki everyone should aspire to date their best friend. He took that to heart and asked you out without considering if he like liked you. 

He didn't. 

And he told you that the next morning.

It’s not Shouto’s fault his comprehension of human emotion is so limited. This didn’t make being broken up with by him any easier though. Everything was matter of fact, no sugar coating. 

“Thanks for letting me know,” you mumbled to your feet, trying to think of any excuse to leave and save yourself the embarrassment of bursting into tears in front of your classmates. His mismatched eyes stared at you, still confused about the whole situation. 

“I have to go finish some homework now, see ya later.” Turning away, you hope you played it off well enough. No one seemed to notice as you walked heavily through the common space with a face made of stone until you reached the elevator. 

Bakugo did though, and he was pissed at Todoroki for fumbling so hard that you got hurt. Their already unstable friendship took a massive hit after that. Eventually, after a lot of adjusting, Katsuki reasoned he could be okay with you dating someone else if it meant you were happy (and they were perfect and checked every single box he decided someone would need to in order to be worthy of you.) This wasn’t it though.

“I don't mean high school. That one didn't count, ” he says, remembering how helpless he felt watching you being heartbroken when you never did anything to deserve it. 

“Okay, well there was…”

The girl you were with for a whole month before discovering she was a villain, just using you because she thought she could get top secret information. She didn’t.

Then there was the guy you met at a coffee shop who stuck around for a while. He thought you were attractive but didn’t want more than sex and wasn’t sure how to bring that up. You being a hero was terrifying to him and he thought you’d stop sleeping with him when you realized that’s all he was there for. You did. 

And Shinsou, who had the most amicable breakup with. He’s nocturnal and you’re well, not quite. After not seeing each other for three weeks, you decided your schedules just weren’t compatible and called it. No media outlets picked up on it since there was nothing to pick up on. 

Bakugo shifts uncomfortably in front of you. Brows furrowed and face unreadable to most. A twinge of jealousy overtakes him. Sure, the two of you haven’t talked much since graduation, but he still has feelings for you. And hearing about all the losers who had a chance when he never did didn’t sit right with him.

On top of that, admittedly, he also feels guilty. Maybe if he'd asked you out all those years ago he could have saved you from this pain. His assumption you’d settle for nothing but perfect had been shattered, leaving him to accept that he shouldn’t have left you craving closeness from anyone but him. He should have been there. 

He’s here now though. At this point in life, he knows he isn’t perfect but he could at least do better than everyone else you mentioned. If you let him.

“You wanna get out of here?” he asks abruptly.

“What?”

“Wanna go somewhere else? The food sucks here, there’s a good ramen shop that’s open late down the street.” 

“You asking me on a date, Dynamite?” you joke.

“Yeah,” he replies dead serious, “I am.”

 Suddenly you’re the one feeling flustered. A date with Katsuki Bakugo? 

After a quick stop at coat check, the two of you are out the door. Running down the marble stairs to the rough sidewalk, his hand lightly around your wrist to guide you. A rain storm earlier left the streets glimmering, neon reflections from the surrounding shops. A few people trickle in and out of businesses in the typically bustling area, but tonight it feels like a ghost town. 

Then you’re there.

He pulls you through an unassuming door. With a quick wave to the person behind the counter, they informally gesture the two of you towards the small seating area. 

Sit wherever.

You slide over the cracked upholstery at a table in the corner. The pink sign lighting up the window casts a glow over his face, the warm color suits him.

When you left your place earlier, you never expected to end up on a date. Especially not here. The location being as much of a surprise as his sudden interest. 

Sure, you always thought he was cute, but you never knew him. He spent all of high school keeping you at arm’s length. Then after, you’ve spent years basing your assumptions about Bakugo off the headlines you’d read. The dates he went on. Always models and idols. Fancy restaurants, valets, and expensive cars.

But this is real.

Across the table, you watch as he slides his suit jacket off. You hadn’t realized how stuffy the atmosphere was earlier until you see him relax, top buttons of his shirt undone and sleeves rolled up. You forgot about the scars.

The woman running the shop approaches to take your order, not bothering to ask him - it appears he gets the same thing every time he comes in. Having been distracted, you quickly pick the first menu item that jumps out to you. She disappears into the kitchen.

“So, what do you want,” he asks, sitting too casually for the depth of the conversation he’s bringing up. He needs to ask though, otherwise how will he know what to do? “You told me what didn’t work but not what you actually wanted in any of that.”

“I guess I haven’t thought about it. I’ve just been working and-”

“Bullshit,” direct, but his tone is playful as he flashes a slightly crooked smile at you.

Two bowls of ramen float through the air to your table - likely the quirk of the woman before. You’re glad for the momentary distraction, giving you time to consider your answer. The food arrived suspiciously fast but with one sip from the oversized spoon, you know it’s amazing. 

“Holy shit,” you exclaim. 

“Like I’d take you somewhere shitty,” he laughs, “still dodging my question?”

“No,” you pause, pulling a piece of bok choy from the bowl while you consider, “not a villain would be nice.”

“Bar’s that low, huh?”

“...and being able to spend time together at least once a week would be good.”

“Only once a week?” he scoffs, “too easy.”

“What about you?”

He says nothing for a while, chasing a green onion around his spicy ramen with his chopsticks.

“This is good,” he mumbles suddenly uncharacteristically shy, “like a real, actual date.”

Looks like you aren’t the only one with lowered standards.

“Too easy,” you smile.

If he told you how serious of a relationship he actually wants with you, he might scare you off. This is a great start though.

Abruptly, he changes the topic to hero work. You compare stories, scars. 

He tells you how he got the small mark on his neck from a villain with a slashing quirk. How he took out a small area of buildings before Bakugo arrived to apprehend him.

You show him a similar scar on your wrist after the same villain escaped prison. 

The evening passes far too quickly.

As he approaches the counter to pay, you don’t miss the exchange between him and the older woman working. She looks overjoyed, saying something while glancing at you in the booth. He smiles awkwardly, his flushed face apparent even in the dim neon lighting.

“Alright, let’s get outta here,” he asserts while grabbing both of your hands to pull you to your feet.

“Can I take you out again?” he asks, as your feet have barely hit the pavement.

“Yeah.”

“Tomorrow night?”

“Perfect.”

more Bakugo: masterlist

[peppermintquartz]

stuck in an elevator

Someone with a sick sense of humor must be writing my life, because a benevolent God sure as hell would never plan this, Tommy thinks in his bitchiest mental tone. Then he snorts. As if anyone would be interested enough to write a single paragraph about him.

The other occupant of the elevator pointedly does not look at him. Evan Buck keeps his tone so neutral, it's almost robotic. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing. I mean, of all the places in Los Angeles to visit on a day off, we end up at LACMA together. And now we're stuck in the same elevator. What are the odds?" The ludicrously serendipitous nature of this encounter is keeping Tommy from other, less-pleasant thoughts, namely being trapped in a space without a view of the outside world. His pulse is starting to race.

They tried calling 911, but the signal in the elevator was poor. Thankfully the emergency intercom did connect to the museum's operations office, who has contacted emergency services.

"I should've taken the stairs," Tommy grumbles. His skin itches with the need to feel fresh air.

"With that boot on your ankle? Then you're dumber than I thought you were." Evan Buck finally glances over, his blue eyes scanning him from head to toe. "How did you injure yourself anyway?"

"Tripped when I was getting out of the bird," Tommy replies honestly.

Evan Buck scoffs and shakes his head, but his expression softens. "You doing okay otherwise?"

There are so many ways Tommy can answer. He can pretend he is perfectly okay. Somewhat okay. He can claim that he misses Evan Buck, but he wants to be friends, just friends. He can be flippant. Make it funny, keep things superficial.

But this is Evan asking him.

"I miss you like a heartbeat" is what comes out instead. And it's true - Tommy feels like an automaton, moving through time, his routines carrying him along from dawn till dusk.

Entire days going by without a single text from Evan Buck feel empty and pointless. The bedsheets need to be laundered but Tommy doesn't want to lose the final traces of the last time they slept in the same bed. There are books Evan Buck brought over to read when Tommy wants to watch a movie.

And now they are stuck together, in an enclosed metal box, and Tommy is trying not to think about that while also trying not to think about how much he wants to kiss Evan. So he vacillates between a bone-deep phobia and a bone-deep yearning.

"I'm sorry. That was too heavy to lay on you like that." His fingers are clammy where his palms are on the mirrored wall. Licking his lips, he says, "But I don't want to lie to you. Not about anything. But I'm good otherwise, Evan."

"I'm not." Evan inhales deeply and blows out his breath. "I'm... I'm baking every time I think about texting you or calling you. The loft smells like a goddamn bakery. And still, still I can't forget the way you smell, the way you sound, the way you fucking taste. I want - I want so badly - to turn back time, figure out what I said wrong that made you run from me. Maybe I wanna be mad at you. I don't know. But I'm not good, Tommy. I'm not gonna be good for a long time."

"I'm sorry," Tommy begins, but Evan cuts him off.

"I don't want you to be sorry," he snaps, and to Tommy's shame, his eyes well up with tears. "I want you to be mine. I want to be yours. I want... I want us, together. That's what I want. I don't wanna be good, I don't want you to be sorry, I want us to be happy together, that's all I fucking want!"

The silence that falls between them is thick as concrete.

His hands and feet are cold now, and he thinks he is a little dizzy. Gulping down a breath, Tommy says, "I shouldn't have run. It was... I was afraid. That... that you'd see me and everything I'm not."

This is when Evan sighs and turns to face him. "I should've chased after you. I was afraid too. I moved too fast, I know now. But you running away and ghosting me after was a dick move."

"I guess we both have a lot to work through." Tommy manages a tight smile. He is starting to feel lightheaded, and his breathing is picking up pace despite his best efforts to stay calm and distract himself with Evan's presence. His hands are clammy and he tries to wipe them dry on his jeans. "Evan?"

"Tommy?"

"How long before 911 arrives?" Tommy's mouth is dry. His vision sparks and he is valiantly trying to hold on to his composure, but he feels like he's boiling in his dark blue henley; he needs air, he needs the sky, he needs space to flee-

"Tommy!" Evan is right next to him, keeping him from collapsing and hurting himself. His touch grounds Tommy in the present moment, and his face this close blocks out the sight of the metal coffin they are stuck in. "They'll be here soon, okay? It's all good, they'll be here soon. Breathe for me, come on, inhale , two, three, four; hold, two. three, four..."

Evan talks him through the breathing exercises, holding him up and against himself, all the way even after the elevator lurches back to life and delivers them to the next floor safely.

After he's helped out of the elevator, Tommy wretches and vomits all over the floor, some of the sick getting on Evan's nice shoes.

"Sorry," says Tommy, eyes tearing from the force of the nausea, his big frame trembling.

"They're just shoes," says Evan, soothing a hand along his spine. To the attending paramedic, he says, "He has mild claustrophobia. Not usually a problem, but we were in there a while."

Tommy follows the paramedic - Jefferson - to a bench, accepting a quick look-over. To his surprise, Evan stays with him. Jefferson doesn't see anything wrong other than shock and leaves them with a blanket when another call comes in, about some old man and a broken hip.

Tommy finally recovers after about twenty minutes. He smiles wryly at Evan. "Sorry. You don't have to stick around, there's a lot to see in LACMA."

"Tough luck chasing me off," says Evan. There's a determined set to his jaw.

"Evan, I mean, Buck, surely you have other places to go."

"First of all, I hate hearing you call me Buck. Second of all, I'm not going anywhere. I know exactly what I want, and I'm pretty sure I know what you want."

"Yeah? What do I want?"

"To be my forever," says Evan. He looks Tommy in the eye. "And I know enough about myself and relationships, a-and love, to say that I want you to be my forever too. So. Hah. I'm sticking around. Sucks to be you."

Tommy huffs out an amused and exasperated breath. "Still a brat."

"Yeah? Well, you can either put up with me, or you can do something about it." But there's no hiding the curl of his lips.

[elllisaaa]

cannot help but think bf jake would spoil you with the most mind blowing sex on your birthday… long foreplay where he worships your body and eats you out for what feels like forever before he gives you his dick 💕

you literally sent this to me in september for my birthday, i'm so sorry about how damn long it took me to answer it dinna, thank you for always supporting me, i hope you'll like this 💕

JAKE + BIRTHDAY SEX truly is a life changing experience. if usually, he's a simp for you and considers you as a literal goddess, on your birthday, he turns into your personal fucktoy - his goal is to please you all night and make you feel so good you forget your own name.

jake would obviously start by a long make out session, and when i say long, i mean at least one hour of his lips on yours, of his tongue playing with yours, of subtly grinding against each other, of his hands roaming around your body and gropping your breasts over your clothes.

only then, when you're breathless and so desperate for him, jake does start undressing you. he praises you so much, compliments on how pretty you are, on how soft your skin feels, on how good you are being for him. and you're absolutely right, he worships you like a deity. his lips and hands are all over your body : leaving marks and kisses everywhere he can, focusing on your sensitive spots and taking his sweet time until you're moaning his name.

the next stop is eating you out, or i should rather say devour you like a starved man. jake loves oral, even more when he's the one on the giving end of it all - firstly because he loves pleasuring you and he knows how much you like having his mouth on you, and secondly because he's just obsessed by your taste and the way you moan and tug on his hair when he buries his head in between your thighs. so truly, it's a win-win situation for jake. he spends so much time eating you out, you actually forget about where you are. jake makes you cum too many times to count, until you're literally shaking in overstimulation from only his fingers and tongue, until you're begging for him to finally fuck you.

if jake is normally too horny to take things slow, on your birthday he will literally make love to you in the most passionate and intimate way possible. he's holding your hands as he thrusts into you at a slow yet sensual pace, whispering love confessions, praises and sweet nothings into your ears until you both cum together.

the aftercare is top tier too, with lots and lots of little kisses, giggles and jake carefully cleaning you up. he's just the cutest and only wants to spoil his girl for her birthday <3

sidenote : he would 100% make one of your fantasies come true if you had talked to him about it beforehand (cough gosthface!jake cough)

[remxedmoon]

You should tell us about color psychology that sounds cool as hell

YES… HA HA HA… YES!

GGGOD I WISH I WASN’T OUT OF THE HOUSE RIGHT NOW. but i’ve been thinking about colors literally all day so you all get to be subject to my madness! sorry this is long and rambly wauaua. nightmarishly long post under the cut.

okay. first things first, a few basics. color theory and color psychology tend to get confused a lot in discussions, but they usually refer to different things. color theory is more about we physically perceive colors (color wheels and color schemes the like), while color psychology focuses on our emotional response to colors. if you’re familiar with the children’s hospital color theory post, that poster wasn’t actually talking about color theory, but color psychology (and also it’s incredibly surface level and heavily misunderstands the subject because in what fucking universe does the quantity of positive associations with a color matter more than the context it’s used in and sorry i have personal beef with this tumblr post).

color theory is also a special interest of mine but i’m not gonna touch on it too much here because it’s not entirely important. mmmaybe another time…

essentially, certain colors (and color combinations) have associations in our brains and that affect our behavior and emotions. these associations are also very much affected by the context a color is used in. colors don’t exist in a vacuum! so while red can symbolize passion and love when used in something like a dress or a bouquet of flowers, it has a very different connotation when it’s, say, splattered on the walls or smeared on the ground in a snail trail.

or for a less Children’s Hospital Themed example, i’ll put my euphrasie and king designs here!

(of course the saturation and brightness of these blues play a massive part in how they’re perceived but this is not a post about color theory this is n)

and, of course, combining colors in a piece can also change their meanings!! i’m about to get real fucking normal.

i’m gonna be focusing on the color combo of red and yellow here because it’s the one that’s most relevant to my art (and also it’s really interesting.) basically, seeing these two colors together activates the part of our brain that controls our appetite, making us actually feel hungry. this is why so many food companies use red and yellow in their branding! it’s neat stuff!!

also, if you’re familiar with it, this is why the mv for butcher vanity uses this color palette!! along with red’s general associations with danger and blood, the color combo also physically induces hunger. pretty fitting for a song about cannibalism!

(there is also red’s association with lust and passion and how that intersects with the double meaning in the lyrics but i cannot derail this post into being an analysis of butcher vanity i’m sorry. we’d be here all week. maybe another day... wipes a tear from my eye)

and i think this might be the reason why some people feel hungry when they see my art, even when i’m not drawing food. while i don’t tend to use red outright, most of my art has very warm undertones (red-oranges and yellows especially), which could be activating that hunger response??

(ah fuck color theory managed to weasel its way into this post again)

admittedly this part is just speculation on my end. i think my rendering style and Shapes also play a role in it, but it’s interesting for me to think about!!

this is only scratching the surface of how complicated colors can get. i was going to go on an entire tangent about color grading and how green lighting can make a scene feel unnerving but this post is already Too Fucking Long. aaaa super sorry if this is Rambly or hard to understand!! i’m not Entirely sure how much the average person knows about color theory and psychology so if there’s any confusing terms here i’m fine with adding stuff for clarity!

wauauuaa thank you so much for asking!!!! i love talking about colors.

tl;dr colors have a bunch of different emotions and meanings tied to them, but you’ve gotta pay attention to the context in which it’s being used. so maybe take a step back before you put that thick red trail on the floor of your children’s hospital.

[rebelssvy]

fuck buddy

ushijima x reader

- just a thought i had!

pure smut, sex.

sometimes his practice was just too hard. playing at a professional level is just soooo competitive. of course it was never that difficult for him. but it can be frustrating sometimes.

he just never gets that much time alone. having a high level of pent up tension within him. he’s a quiet guy and doesn’t let it show that much. well, that is untill he met you.

you came to one of his games and you stood out among the fans. he noticed you in a heart beat. but after the game was over and nothing happened. he chose to walk his separate way from you.

well until you ran into the professional at a coffee shop. it was sudden. and even crazier when he came up to you and said,

“you came to my game, correct?”

it left you in shock that he approached you first.

ever since then you guys have gone out a couple times. once it became more of a routine,things often would get escalated and result in sex.

bad practice? he’s coming over to fuck.

coach yelled at him? he just wants to see you.

he messed up a receive? he’s making you cum on his thigh.

and so here you were, getting pounded by him doggy style because they lost a non league game. of course the game didn’t really matter. but losing was losing. and ushijima hated losing.

he kept mumbling on about how he played good enough that they should’ve won. and how his teammates made to many mistakes.

“ushiiiii! i can’t- keep going” you screamed out. you had already came once and your second was approaching fast.

he’s usually more vanilla then anything. but today somthing awoke in him. you were clawing at your sheets. practically drooling against the fabric.

he suddenly flipped you around and started pounding you in a new position. missionary, except he had your legs pressed to your chest.

“oh my god” you moaned out to him.

“i’m so sorry dear i just- i can’t help my self right now.” he grunted out pushing himself in and out of you.

“it’s ok-!” you scream out again. bringing one of your hands to his wrist and the other to your clit.

once he notices the circles your rubbing into yourself he swats your hand away to do it himself.

you start clenching yourself around him. breath getting sucked out of your lungs.

“oh yea, goood girl.” he says while feeling you clench around his length.

your orgasm hits you like a truck. your legs wrap around his torso. making him his your deepest angle.

he lets out some grunts before pulling out.

and then he does somthing he’s never done before…

he finishes on your face

still fucked out of it, you don’t even realize when he’s done.

with a low guttural groan he says.

“so pretty”

……………………………………………………………………………

- ushijima brainrot.

- this might’ve been a little much idk. i’m going insane

- he eventually asks you to be his gf don’t worry

[jaemna]

— [ 9:43pm ]

wc 1.5k

sunghoon x fem!reader

smut mdni, sub!hoon x dom!reader (ig technically they’re switches but that’s the majority) orgasm denial, crying, slight choking, hair pulling? kinda?, light bondage, idk lmk if there’s more! this is my first smut in a long time so i hope you like it 🫶🏻

with two thick strips of pale pink silk binding sunghoon’s wrists to the bedframe, he instinctively grips tightly in an attempt to ground himself, his knuckles burning white, his nails nearly digging indents into the dark oak wood.

he’s unable to stop himself from letting out a deep, breathy moan when you purposely clench around his cock, trapped in the limbo between heaven and hell. he’s been inside you for so long now, and you haven’t let him cum, not even once. he’s starting to lose his resolve, and you can see it.

smirking proudly at your power over him, you give his shoulders a light squeeze as you move up and down, up and down on him slowly; torturingly slowly. a beautiful sigh greets you when you lean in and meet the sweet spot on his neck with your wet lips, massaging over it with your tongue, sucking and nipping your way along his soft skin to create little purple bruises.

sunghoon catches his bottom lip between his teeth to muffle a gravely groan when his hips buck up into yours by instinct; he throws his head back against the pillow propped up behind him, his dark hair a frizzy mess from the pillow case, his wrists once again tugging unsuccessfully against the silky restraints on either side of his head.

you immediately stop your movement, lifting your head from the crook of his neck to glance at him, still gnawing his lip as he pants. you lift your hand to run a thumb softly over his lip to free it from his teeth, releasing his heavy breaths into the humid air.

“mmh, so pretty,” you coo at him, the softness of your voice directly contradicting the agonizing nature of your actions. running your finger over the plush of his lip, you feel the heat of his breath on your fingertips, his cute little fangs on display as his mouth parts slightly at your teasing touch. “don’t hide from me, baby,” you scold him lightly, watching as his head lolls to the side, exhausted.

“‘m sorry,” sunghoon sighs, looking up at you with tired, glossy eyes, completely fucked out and wrapped around your pretty finger. but still, your other arm travels up, tracing like a feather over his skin and leaving a shiver in it’s wake as your hand grips his throat lightly to squeeze, making him let out a whimper.

“say it right,” you breathe into his ear, making his heart pound. you feel his adam’s apple bob against your palm.

“i’m sorry, my love,” he corrects himself. you smile at him, connecting your lips in a sloppy reward of a kiss, followed by a mumble of a ‘good boy’ as you begin to move again, still excruciatingly slowly.

“baby- god, plea- ohh god, mmmph” sunghoon slurs, lost in his spinning mind of pleasure and pain.

“use your words, baby,” you hum, licking a warm stripe along just under his jaw. his hands clench into fists above his head as he squeezes his eyes shut.

“please, please move faster, baby. please let me-" he sighs, “-let me cum,” he whines, so so desperately. it’s the first time he’s dared to ask, and you have to bite back a smile at how close you’ve pushed him toward his breaking point. it’s hard not to comply when he’s so good for you.

but instead, “awh hoonie, what happened to ladies first? did you forget your manners?”

sunghoon’s brows furrow together at that, puffing his lips up in a pretty pout. maybe any other time he’d agree, but now- after he’s already lost count of how many times you’ve gotten yourself off tonight, and how many times you’ve brought him so close to the edge, only to be yanked backwards and forced onto his knees just to stare at the threshold he was about to cross- he feels himself rapidly approaching insanity.

if his brain hadn’t been so foggy, he would have immediately regret showing any amount of discontent upon seeing your knowing look. but it’s pretty instant anyway, when you begin to move faster, once again without granting him the permission he needs to let go.

sunghoon chokes out a whiney groan in surprise, a hopeless whimper following it. you’ve never heard such a pathetic sound fall from his lips before. he’s suffocating, and yet you still snake your hands up his chest and neck, taking a soft yet firm hold on both sides of his jaw, and you force him to watch you.

you angle yourself so precisely on his lap as you bounce yourself up and down, sunghoon’s cock aching and begging for release as you use him to hit just the right spot inside you over and over. your voice is so so pretty, smooth and velvety as a chorus of praises tumble out but all he can hear as they meet his ears is the mocking, the feigned gratitude displayed as you use him to ride yourself through your own high with no regard for his.

sunghoon’s head feels heavy; it slips from your fingers and falls forward to rest in the crook of your neck, and it takes every last bit of strength he has left in him to bite his tongue and keep himself from releasing inside you despite the way your pussy clenches and flutters around him when you finally cum again, as if it’s begging to milk him dry just as much as he is himself.

delirious, his mind is in a blur, and sunghoon barely notices when you finally come down with a heavy sigh. you grab a fistful of hair and gently tug his head back from your shoulder. his neck falls limp, lolling back and thudding against the pillow once again.

your heart hammers when you see his face; his cheeks are pretty and red, his brows still furrowed and his eyes screwed shut, and warm fresh tears spill from his lashes, leaving wet, glistening streaks down his face.

complete awe overtakes you for a moment. you reach a hand up, the pad of your thumb dusting along his cheek to wipe a tear away. sunghoon swallows hard, instinctively leaning into your sweet touch.

“please,” he begs again, barely audible, like a broken prayer, and your chest swells with a sick sense of pride.

you brush his hair from his sticky forehead, pressing a few soft kisses to his flushed skin and one more lingering one to his lips, swollen from his biting. he hums, leaning forward a bit to chase you, still satisfied with your affection despite what you’ve put him through.

“do you think you deserve it?” you whisper, your breath making his skin tingle. he finally opens his eyes, his irises twinkling as he scans your face. he takes in your questioning look, your head tilted and eyebrows raised, and he answers with an eager nod. his hips jolt up into you, and you press your hands against his abdomen to keep him steady. he gives an apologetic look.

his breathing is heavy, labored, and his mind struggles to connect the dots. his confusion on why you stopped him is quickly sedated when he sees you reach up and wrap the silk strands around both your fingers, releasing them at the same time and letting them flutter down to the pillows.

a switch completely flips, and with his newfound mobility sunghoon grabs you and flips you over in a fraction of a second. your back hits the mattress with a thud, a surprised gasp pulled from your lungs and a devilish grin appearing on your face as you pant, feeling sunghoon’s hand grip around the pulse point on the column of your neck.

he wastes no time, grabbing one of your thighs and yanking your leg up, pushing his angry cock back inside you. he lets out a growl as he finally gets to pound into you with no restraint, the force of his thrusts knocking the headboard into the wall.

“brat,” the baritone of his voice rumbles next to your ear. “you’re such-” a grunt. “such a brat.”

he’s cumming before he can even get the last syllable past his lips, unable and unwilling to push it off any longer than you’ve already forced him to. he sinks his teeth into your collarbone to stifle his moans, the vibration making you whine as he fills you up, rope after rope after rope, far past the point he’s ever reached before.

his thrusts finally slow after a while, his body trembling, and you sift your fingers through the hair that curls under his ear, scratching your nails against his scalp, soothing him while his body and mind are still buzzing as he comes down from his high.

when his breathing is steady, you press another kiss to his burning lips. but as you shift to get up, his hands are on your shoulders and he shoves you back down. he grips your chin and turns your head sharply to look at him. a fire still flickers in his pupils.

“i’m not done with you yet.”

[ophanstears]

🍀

I know that Clover's gender is up to interpretation (the devs DID say so themselves) but I still feel weird when people make them exclusively male or female LOL Like it's TECHNICALLY fine??? but it leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

more in tags as usual because I am a yapper. i am so sorry for having strong opinions about gender and representation. i am usually more fun than this 🥲🥲🥲🥲

[grapejuicenharry]

Hello, how is your day going? I don't know if you are actually receiving requests, if not feel free to ignore this. What about you and Harry fighting in the car, maybe you're coming from a date and Harry was really late, the walk home is difficult with him and you start a fight, so she decides to get out of the car and walk home alone.

(English is not my first language so I apologize for any spelling errors that may have been made)

a/n: hello! My day is going well, thank u for asking. And yes, I do receive requests. No need to apologize—your english is great!

warnings: angst with a happy ending (sorry I couldn’t leave them like this!)

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ . ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶. ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

It was 9 p.m., and you had been sitting at this restaurant for the past hour, waiting for Harry. Tonight was supposed to be your date night—something planned since last week. You'd even reminded him this morning, but here you were, alone.

It had been Harry's idea to take you out, to spend time together, to simply enjoy each other's company after weeks of him being swamped with studio work.

When he'd suggested it, you were over the moon, practically giddy at the thought of a night just for the two of you. Just boyfriend and girlfriend. 

You'd dressed up for him in the sheer black dress he loves so much, paired with your black stilettos that accentuated your legs. Minimal make up, save for the bold red lips that added a sensual edge to your look. You’d spent over two hours getting ready, perfecting every detail for tonight. But once again, you sat... disappointed. 

He was late. not just ten or fifteen minutes, but a whole one hour. 

Tears started to gather up in your waterline as the waiter approached your table for the third time, politely asking if you were ready to order. You forced a tight smile, declining him once again, murmuring that you were waiting for your boyfriend. You couldn’t help but feel like the staff was probably laughing behind your back—this poor woman, sitting alone, waiting like a fool. 

Deep down, you knew it wasn’t an emergency or unavoidable crisis keeping Harry away. He’d used the same excuse too many times: Got busy at the studio, forgot to check my phone. Honestly, you were tired at this point of always coming second, but you know your pathetic heart will forgive him the second he starts blubbering out apologizes because you loved him—and you know he loved you, too. 

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

You discretely wiped a stray tear that has rolled down your cheeks as the sound of commotion at the door caught your attention. Your eyes glanced to the entrance, and there he was—Harry, rushing inside, his eyes searching for her. 

The second he spotted you, he knew he’d fucked up. 

Harry strode over to your table, looking down at you with guilt written all over his face. His shoulders sagged as he spoke. 

“Y/N—fuck, I’m sorr—“ 

You stood up immediately, not wanting to hear a word from him. Grabbing your purse from the table, you turned around and walked away. Ignoring him.

Outside, the cold air hit you like a slap, your hair whipping against your face as tears spilled freely down your cold cheeks. You wrapped your coat tighter around yourself, desperate to hold it together. 

“Y/N, please—listen to me.” Harry pleads from behind her, his voice begging. He reached out to touch your arm, but you instinctively stepped back, putting more space between you. 

"Don't,” you muttered, wiping your tears. 

Harry froze, his hand hanging in the air for a second before dropping back. 

His heart breaks looking at your state, your mascara slightly smudged, your nose red because of crying, and your cheeks red with biting cold. You looked so vulnerable, and yet you wouldn’t let him near you. The realization crumbles him from inside. 

“I don’t want to hear anything; I want to go home. Just take me home or I’ll book a cab.” 

You whisper, sniffling, your voice hoarse and shaky. 

Harry’s throat tightened, but he nodded, silently stepping forward to open the car door for you. Without a word, you slid into the passenger seat. You fumbled with your seatbelt and stared outside the window. not glancing a look over him as he starts driving. 

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

The drive home is suffocatingly silent. The air inside felt heavy with tension and unspoken words. The only sounds were the low murmur of the radio and the faint hum of the engine in the background. 

Harry's grip on the steering wheel was tight, his jaw clenched as he fought to keep his emotions in check. The tension was evident as his other hand rested idling on his thigh, occasionally rubbing at his jaw in frustration. He wanted so badly to reach for your hand, to rest his palm on your thigh as he'd done countless times before. But he didn't. He couldn't.

It must have been forty minutes or an hour of driving in silence when you spoke, not able to sit in the tension atmosphere anymore. “Are we not going to talk about this?” You snaps.

Harry exhales sharply through his nose, trying to gauge a response: “What do you want me to say, love?" I said I was sorry.” 

Y/N scoffs at his words, her frustration bubbling over. “That’s the problem, Harry. You think an apology fixes everything. It’s not about saying sorry—it’s about not doing it in the first place. You knew how important tonight was for me.” 

Harry’s knuckles turn white on the wheel. “I didn’t get time to check my phone. I was so caught up in the studio—“

“Right, the studio.” Y/N interrupts bitterly, “Always the studio. Always something important than me.” 

The words hang heavy in the air; Harry’s shoulders stiffen. His lips press into a thin line as he pulls the car over the side of the door, and tires crunching against the gravel.

“What are you doing?” You ask, heart pounding.

Harry throws his car into the park and turns to you, his green eyes stormy and dark. “I don’t know what you want from me; I’m doing the best I can.” His voice was low but sharp. 

Your throat tightening at his words, shaking head, “Well, maybe your best isn’t good enough.” You whispers, trying to keep your tears at bay.

His eyes flicker, a flash of vulnerability breaking through his frustration, but you can’t take it back now. The tension feels unbearable. Before you could think, You unbuckles your seatbelt and reaches for the door handle. 

“Where are you going?” Harry asks.

“Home.” Y/N bites out, stepping out of the car. The crisp air waves through your hair, goosebumps rising in your body. “I’ll walk.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he mutters back before opening the side of his door and stepping outside. 

“Ridiculous?” You whirl around, glaring at him. “What’s ridiculous is me sitting there, pretending that I’m not hurt. Whats ridiculous is you acting like this doesn’t matter” 

Harry’s chest heaves as he looks at you, searching for the right thing to say, but it doesn’t come fast enough; you turn around and start walking, your heels clicking against the pavement. 

You hear Harry calling your name, but you don’t turn around, knowing there is nothing for him to say that would make you feel better—nothing. The chill of air whooshes past you as you hug yourself tighter, wrapping your arms around you, and quicken your steps. 

The sound of his boots crunching against the ground, crisp leaves crushing beneath him as he follows you, the sound growing closer and closer, then you hear him say softly. 

“Y/N, please..stop."

Against your better judgement, you stop. You stop in your tracks at his words and turn around. Harry jogs and comes closer to you; this time you let him... wanting to feel him close. His face morphs into something more painful than that clenched jaw like earlier. The lines of frustration are replaced by something softer, something that aches your chest. 

“I get it,” his voice low, laced with hurt. “You’re hurt. And you’re right, I shouldn’t have been late, and I shouldn’t have brushed it off like it didn’t matter. It did; you matter to me.” 

The sincerity in his words cracks your heart walls, the river of tears that you’ve been holding threatening to spill over.

"Harry, it's not just about tonight," you say, your voice trembling. "It's about feeling like I'm always coming second to everything else in your life."

His shoulders drop, and he steps closer, his green eyes fixed on yours. "You're not second, love," he says; the words sound like a plea. "You're the only thing that keeps me going half the time. And I know I've been worse at showing that, but I'll do better. I promise you, I will."

You blink at him, trying to brush away the tears. "You say that, but—"

Before you can finish, his hand gently takes yours. "Look at me," he says softly, and when you do, there's nothing but sincerity written all over his face.

"I'll prove it," he says. "Not just tonight, not just tomorrow—every day. I'll make time. For you. For us. You're the most important thing to me, Y/N. I swear it."

His words sink in, warming the cold that's settled deep in your chest. For a moment, neither of you speaks. 

Then, his thumb brushes over your knuckles, and you realize how much you missed the warmth of his touch; he gently touches them and kisses each of your fingers softly.

"Can I take you home now?" he asks tentatively, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips.

Y/N hesitated for a moment before nodding, the fight in you ebbing away.

"Okay," you whispered.

He lets out a relieved sigh and takes a step closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly. "Thank you," he murmurs into your hair. "I'll make it up to you, love. I promise."

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning

TW: Conversion "Therapy" Mention / Homophobia

AN: Sorry this one took a while! - longer than I'd like away!. Coming back from a mini vaca and getting back into work and routine is a nightmare, also my delicate sleep schedule is ruineddd. Anywho, we should be back in business now! :) now, DJ play Good Luck, Babe by Chappell Roan!

Transcript under the cut

Geoffrey: Great job, bud! Tree is looking great!

Malcolm: It’s because I’m a decorator like mommy.

Jonathan: Mom, are you leaving? We’re supposed to decorate the tree too.

Nancy: Save a few ornaments for me to put on there, darling. Mommy has to step out for a couple hours.

Geoffrey: Johnny’s right, you know. Decorating it is apart of the deal.

Nancy: Can’t you spare me an hour or two?

Geoffrey: Remember what I said about being there?

Nancy: That’s not fair. I’ve been doing better, haven’t I? I left work early, which I’m hardly ever able to do and we found the tree together. I haven’t seen Vanessa in 16 years, Geoffrey. This is important to me.

Geoffrey: Yeah, well, this is pretty important to them.

Nancy: Please don’t make me feel guilty about this.

Geoffrey: It’s just you and Vanessa, right?

Nancy: [frowns] Yes, of course. I’ll be back, ok?

-

Vanessa: I’m glad you came.

Nancy: I wouldn’t have miss this for the world.

Vanessa: You look so beautiful tonight.

Nancy: [blushes] So do you. You’ve always have.

Vanessa: [smiles] I wasn’t sure on your choice of champagne, so I hope you don’t mind we have mine. I guess it’s one of the many things we’ll have to learn about each other.

Nancy: This is perfect. I’m sure I’ll love anything you like.

Nancy Narrates: [I found myself unable to eat. Instead, I got my fill of her. I studied her, consumed the sight of her with greedy, curious eyes]

Nancy Narrates: [It thrilled and frightened me the way she took me in too, as if she was trying to recall all those precious details that may have gotten lost in time. Seeing all the ways I could have changed and stayed the same]

Nancy Narrates: [One thing was for certain: my heart still raced the moment our fingers found one another, just like when we were girls. It was a delicate and familiar touch that I could feel from inside, and it was almost as if no time had passed at all]

Vanessa: [softly] Nancy, Nancy, Nancy, the woman you’ve become. I’ve thought of you, over time, what kind of woman you grew up to be.

Nancy: Is it what you expected?

Vanessa: Successful? Powerful? Stunning? Yes, I like to think so.

Nancy: I’ve thought of you too.

Vanessa: Yeah?

Nancy: I thought about what you did, after high school. Who you became. If you fell in love. If you thought about me too. Feels good, knowing you did.

Vanessa: I think holding on to the version of you I remembered kept me sane, after all this time. Do you mind if I smoke? Helps my nerves.

Nancy: As long as I can bum one.

Vanessa: Hey, do you remember our first cigarette together?

Nancy: How could I forget?

Vanessa: Share a light with me. For old times’ sake?

Vanessa: So, care to share all those burning questions you said you had for me?

Nancy: Now I feel like I’m being put on the spot.

Vanessa: Oh, come on. Don’t go shy on me now. How’s this? I’ll ask a question, then you, and so on.

Nancy: Alright. Shoot.

Vanessa: Do you still talk in your sleep?

Nancy: I- what!? I did not talk in my sleep!

Vanessa: Oh, yes you did. Full sentences too. You monologued even.

Nancy: Fuck off, I did NOT talk in my sleep! How would you know anyway? You were practically narcoleptic. I’d be up for hours after you fell asleep.

Vanessa: [murmurs] Still talks in her sleep- in denial about it. Ok. Got it. Your turn.

Nancy: I’ll ask a REAL question this time.

Vanessa: [smirks] That was a real question. I came all this way just to know but ok, ask away.

Nancy: Well, speaking of ‘all this way’. Where do you live?

Vanessa: Here and there. I don’t like to sit in one spot for too long; I get restless. Bored. I’ve spent the last 6 months in Tomorang. Beautiful people. Lovely culture. That’s actually where I heard your name mentioned for the first time. You’ve got quite the reputation over there. You’ve been up to no good, I hear.

Nancy: Christ...long story. Please don’t ask. Are you thinking of moving here?

Vanessa: Ah, ah. It’s my turn. Let’s see...ah! Who’s idea was it to make Geoffrey ‘Mr. Landgraab’. That’s probably the funniest shit I’ve ever heard.

Nancy: My parents, of course. They didn’t want to erase the family name and since they no longer have a son to continue their legacy- well. You get it. Speaking of marriage, are you married?

Vanessa: No, I’m not married.

Nancy: Well. Are you...seeing anyone?

Vanessa: [smirks] No.

Nancy: Children?

Vanessa: No children either. Those counts as a question, by the way.

Nancy: Oops. Ok, ok, you can ask two then. It’s only fair.

Vanessa: I guess I’ll ask a ‘real question’ then. Are you happy like this?

Nancy: [pauses] Like...what?

Vanessa: Married. Married to him. Does it make you happy?

Nancy: [shifts] I care for him very much. He’s the father of my children. He’s a good man and he’s good to me. Why are you asking me this-

Vanessa: Do you still like women?

Nancy: Do you?!

Vanessa: You have to answer my question first-

Nancy: Did you get my voicemail? November 2nd, 1993. I called you and I left you a voicemail. Did you hear it?

Vanessa: Nancy-

Nancy: Why didn’t you call me back? What—what happened to you, Vanessa? Where did you go? Where have you been!? Why, after all this time, am I just now seeing you?

Vanessa: It’s not really the easiest thing to talk about, but I know I owe you closure. [exhales] After I was pulled out of school, my father had me admitted. I received treatments to ‘fix’ me. Every time I fucked up and pissed off my father, he’d pack me up and ship me off until I came back normal and obedient.

Vanessa: There were days I thought I couldn’t keep going on like that, but then I heard your voicemail, and it... scared me. It made me angry. It broke my heart, but most importantly, it woke me up. I finally found the strength to escape my father and live my own truth. It cost me everything—my family disowned me. I relinquished my fortune, but in return, I’m free. I’m free, and I can live the life I deserve. I just... I wish I could have called, but life didn’t work out that way.

Nancy: It should have because I did call you, Vanessa.

Vanessa: I know.

Nancy: [weakly] I said that I loved you..

Vanessa: I know, I know...things were different for me back then.

Nancy: Things are different now! I’m married. I’m a mother!

Vanessa: I know, Nancy. I didn’t come here to break up a happy home.

Nancy: Why did you come here?

Vanessa: Can’t a girl miss her best friend?

Vanessa: Listen. I’ve thought a lot about how I would fit into your life if I ever got to see you again, if this was something you would want at all. That time we shared in our youth was the happiest I’ve ever been. I missed that feeling. I’ve missed you. I’m in a place to explore a friendship with you again, if you want it. If not, then I’ll accept that.

Nancy: I do want this. I want you here. I just...I can’t...

Vanessa: I know. It could be simple. Easy. I miss you, Nancy.

Nancy: [sighs] I miss you too. I’ve missed you so much.

[dearest-and-nearest]

That's my canon and most lovely route, but with one little thing: Aretha is a mage herself. She simply doesn't feel she's a part of magic as social group.

As we all know, Malcolm's personality changes to match Hawke's. So in my canon it was hard, cruel even man, who raised the same hard and cruel daughter. For me it seems fitting why Carver feels so unconfident and nervous

But back to the post. I was talking about this many times and yes, game almost begs you to support mages, always giving you an opportunity to change your mind if you're going with Templars, but almost never - if you're with mages. If you support none in the start of act 3, Orsino is the one who gives you quests, not Meredith.

And honestly, I think it's bad. Like mages are dangerous, no matter what Anders says and wants, they are dangerous. Just remember Broken circle quest or Redcliff. Orsino helped fucking maniac simply because he was a fellow mage. Do I feel sorry for ordinary mages, who will be slaughtered? Yes, and you can still don't kill them, btw. But mostly - mages here deserve their fate, they turns to demons more quickly, than I write this post.

And honestly? I have no wonder why Meredith gone mad, she hadn't even need red lyrium for that, just imagine: you're a head of a templars in city full of mages. Your superiors do nothing, but gossip about your cruelty behind your back, while you have to do all the job, they're so useless than even can't capture apostate who came right in their arms. You're working all the time, but no matter what you do, this city is still full of bloodmages, apostates and other dangerous people.

And by the way, act 3 starts with Orsino in hightown reading speech almost right near church (i feel he would be do this near church with pleasure, but near our home is more comfortable). He left the Gallows, swimmed to docks, then went through it, all Lowtow, almost all high town, all the way we do through finals of act 2 and act 3, and nobody stopped him. And in this time game tells us that Meredith is especially tyrannical in this act

I know it's probably devs' mistake and consequence of no time and money during development, but I don't care. I'm judging the story game shows me and it what it shows and what it tells me conflicts from the first act 3 scene and even before that. And I have tendency to believe my eyes and ears, not what devs wanted to imply, but couldn't.

So yeah, I genuinely think templar route can be perfectly logical for Hawke, should we remove sympathy for circle mages for whatever reason. Does Hawke dislike their sister or do they not think that all mages are their friends - boom, they have a good reasons to support Meredith. And it's really underestimated route in fandom, because people mostly play as good ans don't know what a cool things can be in "bad" routes

While writing that Dragon Age 2 post the other day, I made a narrative connection I had never made before.

I was writing about the Templar route, and about how the game makes no bones about how the Templar route is the evil route, it's clearly narratively marked as such. Because the structure of the game sets itself up from the start to make Hawke have some sympathy for the mages: they are the child of a mage and the sibling of a mage. This is an issue that Hawke cannot exempt themselves from having opinions on.

But that said, yes, you can choose the Templar route. You can decide that the tragedy of your family being ripped apart by the mage plight has hardened Hawke's heart against them. You can join forces with the Order that has hunted your family members their whole lives. You can choose to tighten the iron fist, instead of choosing to break it. You can become the ruler of Kirkwall. You can kill your sister.

And then I realized: That's Meredith's story.

Meredith, whose sister was a mage, the sister who died from it and ripped her family apart in the process. Meredith, who hardened her heart against people like her sister and dedicated the rest of her life to punishing others like her. Meredith, who joined causes with the Templar order who made that happen. Meredith, who took over the city.

You can choose to become Meredith. The game lets you do that. But you have to know -- as you climb over her corpse to ascend her bloodied throne -- that it's not a 'good' choice.

[theereina]

Big Mama Pt. 7

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +3.7K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, use of pet names (Daddy, Mama, lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, etc.), P in V, oral (male receiving), Dom!Terry, breeding kink, spanking, bondage, degradation, rough sex, slight fluff at the end

A/N: I don't know how many parts there will be. However, I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by ME (theereina). Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Big Mama Pt. 1 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 2 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 3 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 4 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 5 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 6 => 🦋

*Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥

“Get up!” Terry said grabbing my arm. “Ow!” I whined. “Shut the fuck up! You gone have something to cry for soon,” he said looking down at me. We were chest to chest, and the side of my hip was pressed against the dining table. The sexual tension was becoming more and more unbearable as Terry's eyes burned into mine. “Just remember I love you, kitten,” he said leaning into my ear. His gaze darkened with lust and became penetrating and menacing.

It was as if Terry could see right through me. I fiddled with my hands while my gaze fell to the ground. “What's wrong, kitten? Are you nervous? Huh?” he asked lifting my chin to meet his gaze. I looked away quickly. I was unsure of how to answer that. I was slightly nervous but wasn't about to let him know.

“No, sir,” I said locking eyes with him. “Good. I don't want you to be nervous.— I want you to be fuckin' terrified,” he said pushing me onto the kitchen table, so I was flat on my back. He leaned over me and snatched the tie from the curtains. “Don't fuckin' move!” he yelled as he grabbed my hands. He tied the rope around my wrists with my palms together.

Terry’s hands moved through the side slit of my dress. Locating my panties, I felt his fingers loop around the seat of the fabric. “Y’know… I honestly don't understand why you still wear’em. I’m just gonna rip… them off!” he said snatching them from my body. The sound of the fabric ripping was deafening as it coursed through my eardrums. The kitchen table slammed into the wall forcefully.

The level of excitement and arousal I was experiencing was astronomical. I couldn't think of anything that would ever top this. His dick hadn't even touched me yet, and I was losing my mind. The heightened intensity of Terry's aggression was animalistic in nature, provoking a craving I had never felt. My heart was pounding, my skin was tingling, and my pussy was throbbing uncontrollably. He was tha much closer to fully unleashing the fervid beast within him. I was really about to let this man do whatever the fuck he wanted to me— no holds barred.

Before I could react, I was tossed over Terry’s shoulder. His arm looped around my waist as he carried me with no effort. My bound hands were hitting the back of Terry’s legs as he ascended the stairs. “Terry!” I whimpered. “Ye… What did you just call me?” Terry snapped as his movements ceased. We were positioned at the top of the stairs.

“That's not my name. You know better,” Terry said placing me on my feet before him. I staggered before regaining my balance. “Sorry— ,” I said taking a deep breath. “So, you're gonna refuse to say it? Is that what we're doing? Oh, I hope you know… I honestly do. You're asking for it, baby!” Terry said stepping closer to me. “I don't deserve respect. Is that what your tellin' me? You don't respect me?” Terry asked grabbing my chin. “Look at me when I'm talkin' to you!” Terry yelled. “Sorry—. Sorry, Daddy. I won't do it again,” I said looking Terry directly in the eyes. “Oh, that's not gonna work. On your knees, then apologize!” Terry said snapping at the floor. From that move alone, I didn't know whether I was shocked, offended, or turned on.

I looked down at the floor. I balanced my hands in front of me before slowly getting on my knees. I rested my weight on my calves and held my hands in my lap. “I'm sorry, Daddy. Forgive me for not calling you by your proper name,” I said letting my gaze linger on Terry's feet. “Unfortunately, apologies mean nothing to me. Actions speak louder than words. Let's go!” Terry said snatching me up by my arm.

He pulled me towards the open door of the master bedroom. He was practically dragging me in. He turned towards me and looped his arm around my waist., pushing me towards the bed. I sat at the foot of the bed and anxiously watched Terry's every move. He leaned over me, bringing his mouth to my ear. His hands fumbled with the knots that secured the rope around my wrists. “Strip,” he rumbled through gritted teeth.

I flexed my freed wrists as I slowly pushed the top of my dress down. The fabric bundled up around my hips like a cloud. Terry's eyes fell to my breasts. I lifted my hips to push the dress off and onto the floor. “This is your last chance to back out. Whatchu gone do, huh? I'm not gonna force you. If you're scared, let me know now,” he said standing to his full height. I held my breath as I struggled to formulate an answer. Unfortunately for me, my mouth was still in brat mode.

“Do I look scared? Or, are you just too weak to finish what you started? Don't use me as an excuse,” I said looking under my lashes at Terry. His stance stiffened as he began clenching and unclenching his fists. I watched his hands intently. I knew he wanted to hem my thick ass up.

Terry's face was obscure of emotions, almost indecipherable. I couldn't tell if he was pissed or impressed. He closed his eyes slowly and released a silent breath. His head rolled on his shoulders as if he was loosening up. I pulled my legs under me and began scooting back on the bed. Yeah, I fucked up. Terry's eyes opened and his irises had darkened to bronze. Shit! A menacing smirk spread across his face. All pretenses of softness and kindness were no longer present. “Terry” was gone.

Terry walked away and stepped into the closet. I could hear him searching through bags. He reappeared with two sets of handcuffs. Without saying a word, he used one hand and grabbed both of mine. He pulled me by arms and up to the headboard. He leaned over me and handcuffed me to it. Each hand outstretched away from me and restricting my movements. Terry pulled my body up slightly so my back was against the headboard. I was positioned in a t-pose.

He stood up beside the bed, looking down at me. “You look so pretty when you're scared, Mama. Too fuckin' pretty, honestly. Those lips, eyes, and this body do something to me. Something so carnal that I don't think I'll ever get enough of you,” he said rubbing his hands up and down my body. Soft, firm squeezes followed his gentle caresses. “Too bad, though. ‘Cause tonight I want you sloppy, disgusting, nasty even,” he said kissing my lips. I let out a small moan as I was being sucked into this fantasy, so quickly and so intensely.

Terry's hands moved down to my thighs and rubbed slowly. His hand slipped between my legs. The tips of his fingers grazed the lips of my pussy. I was beginning to squirm under his touch. “Please, do something. Anything!” I whimpered. Terry's eyes slowly rose to meet mine. He laughed at my begging. “You're gonna wish you neva said that,” he said as he climbed onto the bed. His legs rested on each side of my waist so he was straddling me.

“Look at me,” he said lifting my chin. He pushed the pillows between my back and the headboard before moving up a little more so that he was right in front of me. I was at eye level with his dick print. “I want you paralyzed by the end of the night. I want your throat sore, pussy swollen, and ass stinging. Since you like talkin' back, let's start with that throat,” Terry said unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants. Naked and afraid was an understatement for how I was feeling.

He pulled down his pants and boxers altogether so they were resting on his thighs. His dick was already hard as a brick. His enjoyment was evident from the amount of precum leaking from his tip. “Open!” Terry barked. My eyes tracked the movements of his dick, swaying in my face.

I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue while making eye contact with Terry. He placed his hand at the base of his dick and began rubbing it across my tongue. I could feel his precum dripping on my tongue. “You don't even realize what I'm about to do to you,” he said pushing his entire dick into my mouth without warning. I gagged around him. “Unh unh, what you gaggin’ for? You don't remember what you did that night? Why can't you handle this dick now?” Terry said fucking my mouth. My head was pressed against the headboard as he used me. Spit bubbles were forming as drool pooled from the corners of my mouth.

He was using my mouth like a pussy. I would probably be drowning in my saliva if I wasn’t sitting up. I wanted to smile so bad, but his dick was starting to hit the back of my throat with force. I moaned around his dick and slurped up the spit seeping from the corners of my mouth. “Oh, you like this. Don't you, you nasty bitch!” Terry said smiling down at me. His hand snaked around the back of my head, acting as a barrier between my head and the headboard.

Unbeknownst to me, he was locking me into a fixed position. He placed his other hand on the wall above the bed. Using this position as leverage, Terry's thrust grew harder. I couldn't move my head even if I wanted to. THIS WAS THE EPITOME OF FACE FUCKING. I opened my mouth wider and began breathing through my nose. I relaxed my throat as much as possible, but it was getting hard. Terry's head fell back. The grunts and moans he let out were fueling me to keep going. I had never heard Terry's moans become this deep— not even the first night.

Tears were falling from my eyes as I clamped them shut. I was taking this shit like a fuckin' champ. Terry pulled back a little to release his dick from my mouth, causing me to gasp for air. “Spit and breathe,” Terry ordered. I opened my mouth, letting all of his precum and my saliva fall from my mouth. “Good girl. Don't relax, yet. I'm not done wit’ you yet,” he said pushing his dick back in.

Terry was keeping his promise. My throat was getting sorer the more he thrust. That's when I realized what he did. He wasn't giving me a fuckin' breather or break; he was edging himself so that he could keep going. This man really was a monster!

“Oh, you can handle it. Right, Big Mama?” he laughed. The look he was giving me was so devious. He knew what the fuck he was doing. I clenched my fists, tugging at the cuffs. His thrusts slowed, and his hips stiffened. He grabbed the hair at the back of my head. He yanked my head back and pulled out. He palmed his dick, aiming it at my open mouth. His cum spewed out in milky ropes. It landed on my tongue and lower face. “That's it, baby. Nasty just how I like it,” Terry groaned rubbing his dick through his cum and smearing it all over my face.

Terry slid back from me and got off the bed. He stood on the side of the bed and finished undressing himself. I took full advantage of this break to recollect myself. Terry turned back to face me and undid the cuffs. He placed them on the nightstand. Turning away from me, he grabbed my ankle and pulled me to the center of the bed. I gasped in shock. What the hell was he about to do now?

“Turn over and arch!” Terry demanded. I turned over and arched my ass in the air. “I can't wait to see what you look like after this,” he said palming my ass. Getting back onto the bed, Terry positioned himself behind me. I was still a bit confused by Terry's statement. What did he mean by that?

Before I could finish my thoughts, Terry's hand came down on my left ass cheek.

smack

“Shit! No warning, Daddy?” I whimpered. “What for? There's nothing you can't handle, remember?” Terry mocked. He was definitely about to make me eat my words.

smack

“Sorry, two!” I yelled looking back at Terry. He scoffed at me. “Fuck you countin’ for? I'm not stoppin’ ‘til I'm tired,” Terry laughed. I know that fear was etched on my face, but there wasn’t anything I could do but take it.

smack

Over 20 smacks later

Terry was unleashing hell with every hit, causing me to lose count. Honestly, he was right. There was no point in counting. So when I got to 23, I stopped. I was too far gone to remember or focus, and maybe he knew I would be.

My face was in the sheets, and my tears were creating a wet spot beneath me. “You done talkin' shit, or do we need to keep goin’?” he asked. “No, I'm sorry!” I begged. “That's what the fuck I thought!” Terry grunted back.

The entire time he was spanking me his dick was pressed against my ass and pussy. I could feel every movement he made, no matter how small. He was definitely getting off on this, and so was I. As much as I was enjoying this, I wanted Terry inside me. NOW! I needed him. I felt like I was on fire. If you told me I would find pleasure in getting my ass beat, I wouldn't have believed a word you said. This was different— a good different. A different I could get used to.

I was in my head when I felt Terry's hands in my hair again. “Hey, do you hear me talkin' to you?” he snapped. Fuck! I had no clue what this man had said to me. Pleasure had taken over, and I had dissociated for a moment. “Sorry,” I whimpered out. “Breathe. I need you alive. You can die on your own time,” he said. I could literally hear him smiling.

I looked back over my shoulder with my eyebrows knitted together. “Fix your face, or do I need to?” he asked rubbing his hands all over my ass. He drew his hand back. “No!” I screamed, pushing away.“Aww, look at you! Who's scared, now? Huh?” he laughed. I hated it when he laughed like this. It pissed me off to no end. It made me feel like he was laughing at me.

“Shut up and fuck me already!” I yelled. I paused at my own remark. I was so caught up in the thought of him laughing at me that I probably made my biggest mistake of the night. “I mean… I was gonna do that anyway. But now… imma fuck the shit outta you, so don't run,” Terry said grabbing my hips. He reached between us and placed his dick at my entrance.

I knew not to expect him to take it easy. He pushed in without stopping and instantly bottomed out. “Fuck!” I moaned. Every inch of him was buried inside of me. I leaned forward, trying to find relief. “Nah, where you goin’? You told me to shut up and fuck you, right? So, whatchu runnin’ for?” Terry said pulling me back.

His hips went to work. There was no build-up or time to adjust. “Daddy! Oh, shit!” I shrieked. Terry's dick was hitting spots I didn't know I had. My pussy began clenching around him. “Ahh, fuck! You good pussy havin’ bitch!” Terry mumbled. How the fuck was I this close? He had just entered me, and I was already close to cumming. How?!

Terry pounded into me like he was trying to make a second hole. I put my hand behind me, reaching for his stomach. Without a word, he grabbed my hands and pulled them behind my back. If he kept pounding me like this, there was no way I was lasting longer than a few minutes.

I could feel Terry moving behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see him staring at the full-length mirror in the corner. Terry turned back around to see me looking at him. As soon as that smirk returned, I knew he was up to no good.

His arms looped through mine as he lifted me from the bed. He carried me to stand in front of the mirror. “Mama, we need to have a serious talk. You remember what I asked you for earlier?” he asked. “What are you talkin' about, Daddy?” I questioned in confusion. “Having my baby. Remember that?” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “Yes, but…” I started to speak before he cut me off. “But nothing. Here's the deal, Mama. You can't cum until you agree to it,” he said reaching between us.

He pushed himself back in, causing us both to moan in unison. “Damn it. That's not fair. Ahh, fuck!” I moaned. “Life isn't fair, baby girl. I told you what I wanted, and you ain't leavin’ this room ‘til I get it,” he said bending me over. He was once again fucking me mercilessly. Bottoming out with every stroke. His thrusts were not letting up. “Look at yourself. Come on, look!” Terry said gripping my hair. He pulled me up so my back was against his chest. Finally slowing down his strokes, he forced me to look in the mirror. “Tell me we wouldn't make some pretty babies? Unh unh, look. Don't close those eyes. Look at yourself, pretty girl. You tellin' me you wouldn't want a little you runnin’ around? Huh?” Terry asked while still slowly fucking me. The pleasure I felt was more intense than anything I had ever experienced. I don't know if it was the mirror or a combination of tonight's activities, but something was making me delirious. Here I was once again succumbing to the sorcery of Terry's dick.

“Talk to me. You want me to call you Big Mama, right? Right? That's what you want, Mama?” Terry asked speaking directly into my ear. The warmth of his breath radiated through my body. It was like I could feel everything— the way every vein in Terry's dick was protruding, the way the muscles in my pussy were contracting, the way Terry's balls smacked against my pussy, and the way I was surrendering to my own pleasure.

“Fuck it! Cum in me, Daddy. I want it!” I yelped. I needed to cum badly, and I could tell Terry needed to, too. His strokes were getting sloppy, and his hips were stuttering. “Yeah, you want Daddy to fill you up?” Terry said kissing my neck. “Yes, please. Cum in me. I wanna… ahhh…. I wanna have your baby!” I yelled. “ Then, take this dick, baby girl. You can do it,” Terry said, grabbing my hips. He reached around and began rubbing my clit while maintaining his pace— slow and deep. “I’m cumming,” I said panting. “I know, baby. I know. So is Daddy,” Terry said tightening his grip on my waist.

With one final thrust, Terry and I both came undone. His arms held me in place as his head fell on my shoulders. His embrace was strong and intentional like he was seeking completion.

Minutes passed as we stood there in bliss, coming down from our highs. Terry's arms slowly loosened from around me. I stumbled a little, almost falling forward. “You good?” Terry asked, turning me around to face him. “Yeah. My legs hurt. Well,… truth be told, all of me hurts,” I giggled. “It's okay. Daddy's gotcha,” Terry said, picking me up bridal style.

He walked back to the bed and gently sat me in the center before lying beside me. “Come here, Mama. I know I chose a crazy moment to bring up babies. But, let me know now. Were you serious?” he questioned. I laid back and put my leg over Terry's waist. “I mean… I don't know. I wanna say no, but deep down, I wanna say yes, too. Maybe?… You don't think it's too soon?” I questioned back, laying my head on his shoulder. “Babygirl, the choice is yours to make. Your body, your choice. If you feel it's too soon, that's fine with me. I can wait,” he said kissing my forehead. “Do you really want to be a father?” I asked him. “I've always wanted to be a dad. I just never felt comfortable enough to do it,” he said looking down at me. “So, what's making you so comfortable now?” I challenged. “You don't get it. Do you?” he asked, smiling down at me. “Get what?” I asked.

Terry lifted me so that I was straddling his waist. “You don't see yourself the way I see you. You exude this aura of love and kindness that draws people to you. Your love language is love itself. And to me, you are love… I hope that makes sense,” Terry said stroking my cheek. “It… it does,” I said as I started to cry. “Oh, no. Mama, I didn't wanna make you cry. I just wanted you to know how much I love you,” Terry said pulling me into a hug. “I love you, too. That was… that was just… a lot… for me,” I stuttered between sobs.

Terry's arm engulfed me deeper into his embrace. This was probably the safest and most loved I had ever felt. So, maybe, just maybe… ONE WON'T HURT.

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@qtmkenedy03 @prettypink-princesss @teeresaresa

[bunnys-kisses]

Just because you’re jealous of actual pretty girl doesn’t mean that you have to hate on them. I don’t care that you’re fat or not, but don’t go calling those ppl skinny bitches. And if you were really smart you would know that there are many writers that do poc, plus size, even x men. Don’t like don’t read but don’t be a bad person bc fat shaming is not the only problem in this argument skinny shaming is also a thing saying this as a 5’1 woman that weights 160 I know I’m not skinny but it’s so tiresome seeing comments about skinny ppl. Pls do better

hey, i'm gonna hold your hand when i say this. i'm not jealous. i know such a marvel concept. because if you have been following my blog long enough, you'd know that i'm in a committed relationship with someone. and no max verstappen's or lando norris' are gonna stop that. i'm happy with my man, i don't NEED a formula one driver. i got everything i need or want in the palm of my hand. these little drivers are just stories to me to write to others.

also i'm writing the reader as a female and i don't know if you can handle looking at a profile bio, but i'm a GUY. so i'm really not putting myself in the reader's shoes. so i'm not really jealous. i wish you skinny bitches a happy and healthy life, honestly. it's just formula social media aus are just so fucking BLAND. the same 5 women! i want diversity baby, even if it's not "reality", baby girl, this is fan fiction. anything is possible. so let the big girls HAVE something. ANYTHING. because its TIRING! i know personally, it's tiring to be someone who is bigger! so can the world of fan fiction not be catered to every need of a bigger person? is that a goddamn crime without people crying in my dms?

and i'm sorry that people ever made fun of you for your size. i'm sorry that you had to feel like people hated you for being your size. but fucking for real, not everything is about you. i'm talking about how these stories use the same five pintrest women. can bigger people not have ANYTHING without skinny bitches putting their noses into it? can they not even HAVE fiction? i ask you that much. and i hope you have a fantastic night and you can put this in your brain and let it stew while you sleep.

i'm tired, enough!

[rsventhesecondd]

headcannons , ┓

• →  Featuring . Hiragi Toma as your FUBU  !

☁️┆ ⤿ request by  @anon :3 ༺  ╰ ღ WBK :  requests open  ╯🦢

• HIRAGI TOMA as your fubu — headcannons ! •

warnings . contains nsfw , degrading , pet names , semi-public sex , fluff , all characters used are aged up to 18 , f!reader + not proof read yet . note . some parts may seem rushed or ooc in other peoples opinion. english isn't my first language, so please bare with oncoming vocabulary or grammatic mistakes.  ๑❛ᴗ❛๑ authors note . this is slightly rushed since I'm in the midst of my exams , and I feel bad for making you wait for too long :( so I decided to work on this !! And I wasn't really sure about the layout, but nevertheless— please enjoy reading !

fubu!hiragi , who always has a mouthful about being punctual— and when you do show up just a few minutes late than your 'scheduled' time, get ready to have your ears ringing from his 'you're late' , 'how many times have we talked about this' – causing you to roll your eyes. He's never really gonna let this go, isn't he? Not atleast without a kiss.

"You're 4 MINUTES late!" Hiragi said, looking at his watch. "Damn, 'm sorry? Kotoha needed help" You said, panting from the running you did to get there as fast as you can. He deadpans, his gaze now lingering at you; eyes softening up ever-so-slightly at your state. Ah, he just realized. He never really cared or asked about the situations or reasons about people being late before giving them a mouthful. But somehow, during the times he's spent with you— he finds himself being more understanding. "You really-" he says, slightly pausing. "Just.. try to be more punctual next time." "And—" mwa , you pull away with a subtle smile of victory. Well, too bad now you're getting pulled in for more.

fubu!hiragi , whos health issues suddenly fade away when he's doing it with you. His stomach hurting? That's the least of his worries. He'll just devour a whole pack of gaskun 10's ; but right after he devours you.

"Huh? What're you worried about?" He says with a somewhat offended tone as you asked him if he took his daily dose of medication. You wouldn't want him in pain just for your needs. But who do you think you're talking to? "I'm taking my most effective medicine over here." He added, teething on your nipples.

fubu!hiragi , who can and WILL use you as a stress reliever. He'll complain about how those 'little rascals' won't listen to him, he'll complain about Umemiya being a pain in the ass, he'll complain about this, about that; his pace growing rough with every complain he cusses out— with you only spitting out moans in response, you can't even understand half of what he's saying. But who cares?

"S' fucking annoying." He said, his hips slightly moving up an angle that hits just the right spot. "F-Fuck! Hiragi-" You moan out, saliva dripping down your bruised lips. "Can't even begin about that little brat Sakura is. " — he pulls out mid sentence , then going all in with a rough thrust. Those small attempts of your protests mean nothing; not when you're both feeling this good. "S' fucking annoying." He said, his hips slightly moving up an angle that hits just the right spot. "F-Fuck! Hiragi-" You moan out, saliva dripping down your bruised lips. "Can't even begin about that little brat Sakura is. " — he pulls out mid sentence , then going all in with a rough thrust. Those small attempts of your protests mean nothing; not when you're both feeling this good.

fubu!hiragi , who says that you'll need 'extra training' as punishment because you kept getting late during his time. Not on purpose obviously, I mean– who would want to get punished by someone like him?

"Hah.. look at you, you're getting turned on by this, aren't you?" He mocked , roughly pounding you against one of furins graffitied walls. "So desperate for my dick that much? You wanna get punished that badly, huh?" Hiragi added , pressing his index finger against your clit. "Answer my question" You nod furiously as your head lies against the cold concrete. "Need to be punished. S'badly please.."

fubu!hiragi , who has girth— 8 inches long , 8.57 when hard . 4.21 inches wide, cleanly shaved , circumcised , and has a real veiny cock; going over from his balls to his tip, and when you flatten your tongue against it– he just cums. But no way he's ever gonna admit that.

"Fuck." He muttered out, biting his lips unconsciously as he tried to silent his groans out. Can't have people knowing that one of furins strongest kings get humbled over something like this.

fubu!hiragi , who just gets so turned on when he sees you gagging on his cock. He just might go off with the state you're on.

"Shit, you feel so good" He says, his hands roughly tugging on your hair– gagging you as he went off with his bitter load. He better remind himself to throat fuck you every now and then; he thought to himself

fubu!hiragi , whos eyes widened when he got caught making out with you by Umemiya. Quickly blabbering a bunch of unreasonable excuses, but of course Umemiya wasn't hearing any of it.

Well, this leads him to blame you. Because why the hell would you press on to him that nobody would go there when it's literally where most of the higher ranks go. THE ROOFTOP. You better get ready, because he's mad.

"Is this what you want, huh?" He said, roughly pounding at you with a fast pace. "You want to get fucked hard?" — he added before giving you a mark on your neck. "Think it's so funny that I got embarrassed?" Well, goodluck with that.

sincerely , raven ! requested by— anon :3

[mamaclownhunter]

I am kicking my feet like a school girl

HELLO YES!!!!

YES YOU GET THE VISION THO WHY LIKE I AM SO TEMPTED BY HAVING SY BE ABYSS ABOUND ALMOST

Bc there is that angst that pain of he can leave FINALLY he can leave and get his revenge and now he has someone who cares about him at his side!

He has this sword finally that can get him out. He is strong and his companion made sure he could withstand and force this sword to submission without as many drawbacks. That he can balance himself.

And when he is about to leave- Shen Yuan isn’t following him. He is staring at a screen Binghe can’t fully see with a sad smile.

[Congratulations! Congratulations! Congratulations! Things must be said three times!!! You reached the End! Once quest is complete Users contract will End! Thank you for playing!!! You reached ‘Strongest Hero of the Abyss’ end!!!]

“Come on-“

“You go on ok Binghe? You have your happy ending.”

“I know. Come on.”

“Binghe I don’t think I can leave.”

“…..what do you mean?”

I feel like it is a small fight bc Binghe might try to destroy Xin Mo and figure something out and it is a full scuffle until Binghe ‘agrees’ and cuts a portal- to another side of the abyss and chucks the sword.

“BINGHE?!”

“Oops.”

“BINGHE THAT IS GOING TO CAUSE DAMAGE!!!!”

“Then it seems like we need to go fix it! I am so sorry- let’s go!”

Shen Yuan is stuck between furious Luo Binghe- his best friend is just throwing this ending away- the system is fucking clowning him now- and…. Privately so happy he gets more time with Binghe.

He might have to force this end at some point…. But for now…. He follows Binghe.

I read a few but I am kinda soft for the idea of System!SY but like a player in a Video game.

Specifically I am thinking of the game Off! Where the player is their own entity the character it kinda aware of.

So SY dies and wakes up when Binghe lands in the abyss. He is given the objective to help Binghe out of the Abyss and steer him towards the best ending!!!

SY is excited because he!!! Gets to help Binghe!!

Binghe is pissed his seal came off and now he is being ordered around by some green spirit. His powers are still sealed and slowly being released by said kinda annoying ghost.

The worst part other then the Ghost being overly excited to be in Hell and seemed to be too elated about one of the worst fucking moments of his life-

The Ghost is actually fucking helpful. ‘Shen Yuan’ (what a fucking joke to give him a ‘Shen’ as a guide) knows more about monsters and their weaknesses, has an idea on what is edible what isn’t, he knows what plants to avoid, what areas are safe- and he also seems to genuinely want to keep him safe.

SY has a the video game advantage of either knowing when attacks are coming or knowing how heavy an attack will be. He also knows what Binghe can do at anytime/is controlling the attacks to some extent- either pokemon style or like the game OFF! Where is auto attacks or manual where Binghe can’t attack unless SY! Chooses.

For the first little bit Binghe resists or does the opposite where SY directs him only to- shockingly- get hit.

So I feel like for the longest time they were just at odds and bickering before SY puts it on auto and just plays it like a turn based game. Like for him sometimes time is slower except for Binghe, so he has faster reactions and honestly is more in canon with the “protagonist halo”. Where he can spend points and has his own little influence if things are dire otherwise he is more or less following his favorite protagonist through the story.

And Being such a big Binghe fan he is more than happy to just Let Binghe have the power only taking control when things look dire. He is the biggest hype man, offering information and support, offering insight or knowledge only him as a strange green figment that only Binghe can see.

He vanishes when Binghe flirts with women though. He goes off and explores or watches monsters, he hated this aspect of the book and if Binghe wants then he should- he only gets protective and sticks around if he feels like Binghe is getting taken advantage of- (though the first few times Binghe snapped at him and told him to scram- so he did in his own pissy fit) they go right back to Bickering but fuck SY still cares and he kinda likes how he can see this part of Binghe’s story.

They can’t go far from each other (I am thinking about as far as camera can scroll out) but SY can turn off audio and stuff on his side.

Though eventually Binghe just starts to trust SY. If SY says right he is moving right, if SY says between the eyes his sword is inbetween their eyes, if SY says run and hide he vanishes from the field. Because for all the bitching, raging and ranting- Binghe does notice a lot is on his sake.

And you know…. In the Abyss he isn’t alone. He isn’t figuring this shit out by himself he has someone who floats next to him asking what he wants to improve. Attack? Speed? Health? He has someone that he can mentally connect with and they just both viciously attack low IQ villian and plots where only they can hear.

The angst that the only person to interact with SY is Binghe. Who he can’t hold when Binghe has nightmares, who he can only heal if he has the resources and to produce medicine/fast heal, but is also the only person who sees and hears SY. So if he is ignoring SY- SY is alone- and I think deep down he is a social person. Binghe is subjected to a flood of questions SY wants to ask.

And Binghe has one person who cares about him and is always at his side (even forced SY never implies he feels forced in fact he seems always excited to be next to Binghe)- and Binghe can’t touch him, can’t feed him (‘I would love to try your food- but I can’t.’), can’t cherish him.

SY who is nice, who is considerate, compassionate, he cursed like he lives in a brothel and rages like a demon- but he also scolds Binghe for ignoring people, he snaps when Binghe doesn’t actually help- just takes what he wants and leaves, he believes Binghe is so much better for the world if he only got over himself and stopped thinking with his rage and anger. He thinks Binghe is smart, he thinks Binghe is strong, he thinks even half demon- Binghe is meant to be good.

What a kick in the stomach.

They can’t touch but Shen Yuan is trying his fucking best to get Binghe through hell. He apologizes for bad calls, he gets better himself, he takes his hands off the reigns but I think there are times he can’t help it. They fight, they talk, they are together.

Shen Yuan always loves Binghe and maybe he still ends up a little blackened but Binghe is quietly determined to make SY corporal. Pull him from that control panel and somewhere Binghe can hold him close. Maybe tuck him away in a nice little cottage where there is a little farm and greenhouse with all the plants SY can tend to, bookshelves filled to the brim with books and stories, in a place where SY can see all sorts of creatures to his hearts content.

The “Video Game” character being protective of their “player”

SY being a rage gamer also is so funny to me, Binghe is the only one he hears the absolute filth and insults SY throws at their enemies and frankly he either repeats it or relents that he isn’t as creative.

Binghe maybe not aware of his protagonist halo but aware of the little green ghost who can just barely manipulate the world if Binghe is in enough trouble. Shen Yuan being the only one who gets quests and updates of things Binghe needs to do and being limited on what he can tell Binghe.

The soft apologies when SY can’t control where they go or what happens can only help Binghe respond.

This is long and I am still pulling thoughts but I am slowly getting brain rot

[miguel-owhora]

i hear your twin dick monster! reader x micah but may i propose monster! reader with a cluster of tentacles for a cock.. all with minds of their own, too. and some ovipos at the end for flavor.. sorry if this is too much !!

starting with some oral, he would be so cute all confused at what hes looking at, wondering what hes supposed to be doing. a mess of squirming tentacles at your crotch, more than ten, at least. they all act as if theyre their own creatures separate from you, moving and tangling amd tying themselves into knots. when micah is brought in closer to them, they all reach out for him, curious. hed probably be so unsettled.... looking up at you with wide blue eyes for a brief moment, wondering if youre actually about to make him do this, before he realizes he just needs to be a man.

hes so weirded out.. when he tries to lick at one, they suddenly grab his face, pulling him right up against them. they begin to slither over and explore his face. the next time he tries to open his mouth, one is forcing its way inside, exploring around his mouth, then down his throat. its hard not to gag, but hes a strong boy. a survivor.

his face gets fucked like that for a long time, the tentacles preventing him from pulling away, and slowly beginning to explore his mouth more and more. more would keep squeezing in, forcing his mouth open wide enough to strain his jaws. they cram into him until no more can fit. micahs eyes are rolled back all pretty, i bet hes even starting to cry. you pull out and move lower.

when you press yourself against micahs pussy, all the tentacles are desperate to get inside him. they squirm and stroke at his cock and dip between his folds trying to find their place. you can hold him down and barely even have to do any work as each tip eventually finds a hole to sit inside. hes trying to kick and get away from you, but you just place your hands on his shoulders and move him right back into place, below you.

they push in first as a cluster, then individually, one at a time when there arent as many out of him anymore. once every tentacle is inside him, theyre squirming and exploring, never falling still. theyre pressing against his walls and grazing against his cervix with blind curiosity. when you start actually thrusting, moving them all as one unit, theyre still moving on their own then, too. sometimes one will slip out and get lost amongst his tcock and folds, i bet some penetrate his ass at some point.

and micah is an absolute mess. youre bigger, and stronger, and have like 15 small dicks fucking him at once while also teasing at his ass and dick while still doing so much inside of him..... he hates to admit its the heaven that it is, so brainless and pleased that he can hardly even think anymore. hes devolved to a constant low groan thats only broken by your thrusts, any hopes of being smart enough to say anything intelligible having been fucked out of him quick.

he breaks so hard, in fact, that by the time youre orgasming inside him, you dont even realize that youve started filling him with eggs, and hes euphoric about it. small yet gooey, theyre maybe the size of a golf ball. one after the other fills him up, as much as he can take. even after you pull out, his belly has a beautiful bump in it. hes left flushed and panting like nothing more than a dog by the end, the feeling of being full keeping his fucked out brain from letting him think at all still.

he doesnt stop you, not even that he could, when you impulsively reach out to press down on the bump, and start forcing eggs out of him, each one stretching his sore, abused hole and making him gasp and twitch again. hes already cum on your dicks countless times, but the overwhelming feeling of each egg pushing out forces him over the edge one last time. hes silent, for once in his goddamn life, as a silent scream strains his chords.

its only all over once hes feeling horribly empty, his cunt still left twitching and spasming in the wake of you breaking him in. maybe hes even begging to be full again, pleading that not thinking was so nice for a bit there. and of course you oblige him, hes come so far from his usual state and hes being so cute that he deserves it, even. next time around he can keep the eggs in him and be your brainless little pet thats too fillednup to think for himself, and you can pride yourself on bringing the micah bell the third to that point.

grr... why didn't i think of this