#stupid sight gag way more than i have any right to

[ducktracy]

I’ve been looking forward a bit to your review of the upcoming short, remake comparisons are interesting even when the short itself is a bit of a dud.

YOU AND ME BOTH!!! i have like. Patient Porky is a weird guilty pleasure of mine because there was a small point in time when i was just getting into these shorts and really had only seen Bob Clampett’s filmography in chronological order up until that point, so i was oblivious to all of the better cartoons out there… but i was so fascinated by what a weird specimen of a short this one is that it became one of my most watched cartoons HAHA. it has no reason to exist and i hesitate to even call it a remake, because the term “remake” seems to have a sort of purpose behind it, whereas here i feel like it was just Clampett recycling parts of a much better cartoon and hoping that nobody would notice or care. it’s a great cartoon for those who want to see The Daffy Doc but worse in every possible way!

[avocado-writing]

don’t look at me, men deserve to feel pretty. based off this pic. minors dni.

he feels pretty stupid.

if the someone had approached him, say, fifteen years ago with this idea, he’d have absolutely told them to go and fuck themselves. the shield of his masculine bravado would have prevented it - an impassable barrier. cute girls wear stuff like this, after all, not big guys like him.

but…

he’s older now. mellowed. when Wade pitches an idea for something kinky he’ll try and pretend not to be interested, but when you ask him, too? when the pair of you gang up on him, two pairs of pleading eyes and soft, sensual, suggestive hands?

ah, fuck. he’s weak. he finds he’d do just about anything to make you two happy. you both would for him, after all.

at the moment he’s just laying there, wearing nothing but pink lace around his cock. the two of you are staring, and he’s pretty sure Wade is actively salivating. your eyes are just wide and wanton.

he shifts.

“can one of you fuckin’ speak? feel like I’m on display here…”

“that’s kinda the idea, peanut,” breathes Wade, too enraptured at the sight for his usual quips. damn. he must be doing something right, then, Logan guesses, if it shuts the merc up maybe he should do this more.

“they’re comfortable, I wear them all the time,” Wade had said while trying to convince him, and as proof had hooked a thumb under the waistband of his sweatpants to reveal clinging chantilly at his hip. “plus they fit so nice under the suit. can’t imagine ever going back, not when my ass looks so damn good in pink. isn’t that right pookie?”

“that’s right,” you’d hummed, dropping a kiss on Wade’s skin over the lace. Logan remembers the way Wade had let out a juddering sigh at that. you’d left it with a simple, “you don’t have to, Lo. but it’d drive us both kinda crazy.”

you’d been right.

“Logan, you’re so pretty,” you sigh, finally closing the gap, crawling up the bed slow and seductive. he feels the mattress dip as Wade mirrors your movements so that the two of you can hook a thigh over either one of his legs. ‘pretty’. once he’d take that as an insult, a joke… but he knows you mean it as the highest compliment.

maybe he doesn’t mind so much.

“fuckin’ better than anything hanging in any shitty art gallery. and speaking of hung…” Wade presses a kiss to Logan’s cock. his lips over the fabric give just a ghost of warmth, a little tease of what’s to come, and Logan feels himself begin to harden. when you reach down to run your tongue across the elastic and up to that vein which pops out on his abdomen he leaks a little.

you and Wade are delighted.

”you’re gonna ruin these…” you sigh, faux-annoyed, obviously thrilled.

“see? I knew you could be kinky,” Wade claims.

Logan huffs.

“shut up, or I’ll take these off and gag you with ‘em.”

Wade lights up.

“promise?”

you chuckle and go back to kissing him.

“lie back, Lo, we’ve got you.”

he does, and you do.

[lxstfathier]

PLEASEEEE WRITE SOFTDOM!WILLIAM AFTON PUTTING BRATTY!READER IN HER PLACEEEE (daddy kink, oral, nd degradation if ur comfy) (≧∇≦）

Omg yesss, i love that kind of stuff, let’s gooo! <3

Attention

William Afton x Reader

Warnings: dd/lg, oral sex (m! receiving), degradation, implied age-gap, cockwarming.

A/N: i really loved writing this, its so kinky but cute, thanks for the request anon. also, english is not my first language, so i apologize for any errors, but i hope y’all like it! 💗

You shouldn’t have done that. You should have listened to him when he told you to quit that bratty attitude. You shouldn’t have been running around and messing with his stuff while he fixed some details on his springlock suit. You shouldn’t have rolled your eyes at him.

But now it’s too late.

William grabs you by the arm, digging his long fingers into your soft skin and shoving you aggressively into the nearest wall as a pained gasp escapes your lips.

“What’s going on inside that dumb brain of yours, huh? why are you suddenly acting like a fucking brat?” he asks with a stern tone in his voice, clearly fed up with your shit.

“I- I’m sorry, daddy” you apologize, looking up at him with big doe eyes, casually dropping that misbehavior.

“I don’t need your apologies. I asked you a question.”

You don’t know exactly what to answer. It’s not like you are usually a brat, but today you feel kinda… ignored. You are more than starved of attention and touch. The only thing you want is to spend time with William, kissing his stubbly jaw or sit on his lap, but he’s been working on that spring bonnie suit all damn day.

“I- uh- i don’t know, i just got bored” you murmur, too shy to express your own feelings. “And- and i need attention”.

“Yeah? does my little bunny need attention?” he says, almost mocking. “Then beg for it like the needy whore you are.”

And before you know it, William is forcing you to your knees in a way that will surely leave bruises for the next day. But you don’t care, not when he’s finally giving you some of his precious time.

“Please daddy” you plead in a high pitched voice, pouting your lips while running your hands over his thighs, noticing the bulge starting to grow on his crotch. “Play with me.”

“Stupid slut” William says through gritted teeth. “Can’t even go a day without being used like a fucking toy.”

Letting out a devilish smirk, he unbuckles his belt and pulls down his pants, just enough to reveal his cock, fully hard already. And you can’t help but lick your lips at the beautiful sight, feeling your pussy tingle with arousal.

Not wanting to waste a single second, you eagerly take his length in your small hands, pumping it a few times before leaning in to kiss the pink tip and run your tongue over the prominent veins, earning a deep grunt from the depths of his chest.

“Don’t tease me, bunny” William growls, forcefully grabbing a fistful of your hair on his right hand, guiding his big cock into your mouth.

You try your best to take him, wrapping your lips around it, but when he hits the back of your throat and starts thrusting, it’s impossible not to gag and drool.

Tears start streaming down your face, digging your nails in his pants while he slides in and out at a fast pace, fucking your throat as if you were a doll, not even caring if you choke. It’s a punishment after all, it isn’t meant to please you.

“Are you crying?” William mocks you again. “Come on, isn’t this what you wanted? huh? you were acting up all day just to make me riled up and now you don’t want it?. Aw, too bad, bunny, cause you’re gonna take it… i don’t care if you like it or not.”

You look up at him, searching for his -usually tender- blue eyes. But that ocean color is almost completely gone, covered by his dark pupils, dilated with lust and hunger, without a single trace of kindness or compassion.

William keeps pushing you down on his length, enjoying the warm slickness of your mouth, cursing under his breath. And it’s not long until you feel his muscles tense and his cock twitch, finally releasing all of his hot cum on your tongue, milking him dry, not wasting a single drop of his salty seed.

He thrusts sloppily a few times to ride out his orgasm, and then pulls out, with a nasty string of spit still connecting you both.

“I’m sorry for neglecting you all day, my little bunny” he says, returning to his lovely demeanor, caressing your cheek and cleaning the mess of saliva and cum running down your chin. “How about you come sit on my cock for a while and when i’m done then we can have some fun, hm?.”

You just nod, unable to talk much due to the rough throat fucking he just gave you, but really liking the idea. So William helps you get on your feet again, taking you with him, sitting on the chair in front of the desk and patting his lap as an invitation for you to sit on him.

The only piece of clothing you’re wearing is an oversized pink shirt, so it’s really easy for you to straddle his lap and sink down his half-hard cock, whimpering as he fills your soaked sensitive cunt.

“That’s it, good girl” William coos, groping your soft ass, more than happy to be buried inside your tight hole.

You smile, giving him a little peck on the lips, and then let him continue what he was doing.

William keeps fixing some loose screws on the ears of the spring bonnie suit, and you rest your head on his shoulder, tracing your fingers on the seams of his tie, soon falling asleep while smelling his masculine cologne and the faint scent of cigarettes.

[scrollonso]

32 "it looks good on you" for beznaia?

alice... i knew what to write as soon as you sent me this, enjoy!

Marco felt a little foolish. When Pecco said he wanted to see Marco in a skirt as a reward for winning the championship, he’d been all for it. It was such a small thing to ask and he wanted to make Pecco happy any way he could, show him how much he loved him. Yet now that he was standing there in the fitting room and looking at himself in the mirror he was beginning to hesitate.

The skirt Pecco had picked for him to try was short and black, shorter than he'd thought skirts were supposed to be. He was sure on anyone else it would be an insane turn on, but he just felt out of place, not exactly the kind of a seductive sight he’d hoped he could give Pecco. It didn’t really help that he was still wearing his own VR46 team shirt which made wearing this for Pecco a lot stranger.

This was stupid. He shouldn’t have even offered. It had been egoistical to think he could pull it off.

“Hey, try this on with it!” Pecco said, excitedly, as he quickly opened the door of the cubicle so he could slip inside too. He was holding a white skin tight and slightly cropped top, his eyes on the shirt as he hung it up in one of the hooks. “It should be the right size but if it’s not I can run and get another to—” That was when he cut himself off, as he noticed the way discomfort was probably oozing off Marco. “Hey. What’s up?” he asked, shifting closer, so he could place his chin on Marco’s shoulder from behind.

Their eyes met in the mirror and Marco considered for a moment just sucking it up and saying nothing. He had never been able to – or willing to – lie to Pecco, though, so he folded in like ten seconds flat. “I feel kinda stupid.”

“Because of the clothes?” Pecco asked, slowly sliding his arms around Marco to pull him to his chest. The closeness helped immediately, and the tension bled off Marco as he leaned back against Pecco. He nodded, still a little embarrassed by the whole thing. Pecco only huffed, not dismissively but kind of fondly, and pressed a quick kiss into the curve of Marco’s jaw. “You didn’t think it was stupid when you dressed like a girl that last time, remember?”

Oh hell yes Marco remembered. But that was different. It wasn't for Pecco then. It was a stupid gag costuke done in a group. This was serious. “Yeah,” he croaked out, clearing his throat. "But that was a joke, this- I'm sorry, Pecco, I just feel stupid."

“Wanna know what I see?” he asked, but went on before Marco really even answered. “I see a man who was willing to go out of his comfort zone to make someone he loves happy.”

That did feel nice to hear but Marco almost scoffed and told Pecco it still didn’t mean he looked even decent at all in the outfit, just because he’d willingly tried it on. He turned his head to look at Pecco to tell him exactly that, but Pecco used the opportunity and shut him up with a kiss.

As it broke, he gave Marco’s lower lip a little tug with his teeth, grinning as he went on. “I see strong thighs,” as he spoke he slid his hands from Marco's waist down to the front of his thighs, the touch making him shiver a little. “They’re almost bursting out of the skirt,” Pecco added, almost dreamily. “I want to get down on my knees and bite them all over.”

Marco felt his knees go a little weak, and maybe he leaned a little more heavily against Pecco. The other man obviously noticed as he shifted behind Marco, and that just made it even better. There was an obvious bulge in Pecco's jeans as he pressed his crotch against Marco's ass, a telltale sign of how hard he was already from this. Knowing he was excited about this immediately made Marco more excited, too, and did wonders to boost his confidence.

So Marco arched his back, shamelessly pressing himself against Pecco's erection. “What else?” he asked, knowing he was fishing for compliments, but also knowing that Pecco would be willing to indulge him.

The low sigh that Pecco let out was like music to Marco's ears, and he let his eyes slip shut as Prcco's hot breath hit his neck. “You’re the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen, trust me,” Pecco said, running his lips up the side of Marco's neck and then to his jaw, scraping his teeth over the soft skin. “I can’t wait to get to unwrap my present. It looks good on you, great on you, but the best part will be to peel the layers off. Slowly.”

“You really like it?” Marco asked, still trying to make sure, although he was already convinced. He’d been too flustered and overwhelmed when he’d thought he wasn’t living up to the imagination that it had made him doubt himself needlessly.

“I do,” Pecco said. “If we weren’t in public I’d show you.” He grabbed Marco's hips, then, and spun him around so they were face to face. He waited for Marco to look at him, before he went on softly. “But we don’t need to do this if you don’t want to. We can just go home and I’ll show you just how much I appreciate even the attempt.”

“No,” Marco argued. “I want to.” And he did. He’d just gotten into his head a bit there, but by now he was pretty much as excited about it as Pecco was.

“In that case,” Pecco drawled, before unceremoniously spinning Marco around again. He pressed back close against him, slid one arm around Marco's waist, and the other to his hip. Only for a second, though, before he let that hand wander down to Marco's crotch, teasing him through the fabric. “I can’t wait to get home.” He practically only breathed into Marco's ear, his voice low enough to keep things private. The background music at the store wasn’t loud, but enough to give them some degree of privacy, especially as the place had been virtually empty and there weren’t others close by to pay attention to them.

Marco was already about to answer, but then Prcco went on, making his breath hitch in his throat. “I’m going to lick every inch of your body until you’re begging for me to fuck you.”

The sound Marco let out was pretty much a pathetic little whimper. Especially as Pecco combined the words with slowly circling his palm, just barely teasing Marco without giving him any more. Marco shuddered, trying to breathe in deep so he could remain in control instead of losing it like a teenager. All these years together and Pecco still did that to him, still made him feel like they were in the honeymoon phase of their relationship.

“I’m going to love you so hard, like you deserve,” Pecco went on, something soft in his voice in addition to how it was husky with clear lust. “Because you know what else I see?” he asked, but didn’t bother to wait before answering his own question. “I see the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

[mir4inotes]

i hold your head deep in my arms // dazai & ango sickfic drabble

originally posted on 7th jun 2024

warning for non-graphic vomiting

read on ao3! / 928 words

———————————————————————

dazai is sixteen, slumped over the toilet in the cramped bathroom of bar lupin. the light above his head flickers in a seemingly random way; combined with how much whiskey he had, it makes for an unsettling, almost ethereal experience.

his throat and nose burn. he’s barely eaten today, but his stomach is keen on removing every last drop of alcohol until he’s shivering and barely able to hold himself up.

his body crumples against the bathroom wall as if his head were a massive paperweight, barely having the sense to wipe his mouth with a clammy hand.

he thinks he’ll just fall asleep here. the poor soul tasked with closing the bar will find him eventually. kick him out. then he’ll stumble home, alone.

at first he thinks he’s hallucinating when a warm hand presses into his upper back, too drunk to tell left from right.

“are you done?” comes a quiet, hesitant voice. ango, dazai registers. ango has seen him like this before, only once or twice, though. he later explained that oda thought ango to be more of a comforting presence, so he’d always send ango to check on dazai instead.

dazai shrugs, unmoving. his eyes are shut, his breaths coming in soft pants.

ango frowns. he opens his mouth to say something else when, of course, dazai gags again. ango’s arm darts out to redirect dazai’s head back over to the toilet, the rest of his body soon following suit.

he throws up again. and again.

ango’s whole arm wraps around dazai’s smaller body, mostly to hold him upright, but also for an attempt at comfort. he doesn’t say anything. his own body is starting to droop sideways, as holding someone else up while tipsy is far from easy. ango only turns his head away and waits.

soon, there’s a break in the retching, and ango glances over again. he finds dazai trembling now, white-knuckling the edges of the toilet, saliva dripping from his lips. ango’s heart nearly stops.

he looks so tiny.

his hand moves on some instinct, brushing dazai’s dark, unkempt hair out of his face. he can’t read dazai’s expression thanks to the bandage over his eye, but he can guess at it.

and then dazai heaves again.

ango clicks his tongue, maneuvers himself so he can better hold dazai, then stops as he hears something else. a high-pitched, quiet sound that ango could have easily mistaken for a rat. his chest twists again.

dazai is only dry-heaving now, but he still looks to be in pain with every movement. his trembling is only worsening. then, just as ango brings a hand to his back, he hears dazai murmuring. “no more...”

ango had vowed to stay silent, not wanting to upset a drunk higher-up, but his mouth moves before his brain can catch up.

“it’s alright,” he mumbles. the hand on dazai’s back rubs in tiny circles. “you’re almost done.”

“it hurts...” dazai trails off into another weak gag. it sounds like he can’t get a deep breath in.

ango’s stomach drops as dazai progressively becomes more pathetic. he’s seen him be ill, but he’s also seen him laugh it off afterwards before promptly heading home for the night. ango didn’t even think dazai had it in him to be so… pitiful. his heart genuinely twists at the sight.

“i… i know it hurts.” a rather stupid thing to say, ango thinks, but whatever. “try and breathe for a moment.”

it takes him a few tries, but dazai slowly starts to calm down. he can hardly pull his head out of the toilet before immediately sagging against ango with his entire weight.

it’s warm. dazai can’t help but loosely wrap his arms around ango’s waist, burying his face into his chest.

oddly enough, ango had never really thought about dazai’s age too much. he was a mafia member and friends with oda somehow, and that’s what mattered to him. he didn’t need to know any more than that.

yet now, with slow arms coming to hold dazai’s shivering, thin, cold body, ango truly understands. this is a child.

“i’m here,” ango murmurs, holding dazai against him. he wants to warm him up at least a little bit before they leave.

—

dazai’s memory of this is fuzzy in the first place, but he can really hardly remember what happened afterwards. he thinks ango took him home that night, unsatisfied with letting him wander back to his shipping container alone.

the one thing he does remember is how it felt to share a bed with ango. the way dazai curled up against ango’s chest, ango’s warm, soothing hand in his hair. how warm dazai felt.

now, dazai is twenty-two. his phone buzzes for the fifth time in ten minutes; he knows it’s kunikida. he’s late for work.

dazai pulls his head out of the toilet bowl, leaning back against the wall with shaky limbs. his stomach is screaming at him.

in his delirium, he mistakes atsushi’s number for kunikida’s and punches out a short message, then tosses his phone aside.

he can’t walk. he knows he’ll throw up again, so he might as well stay in the bathroom. it isn’t like he’s planning to do anything else today.

he blinks wearily, eyes heavy with exhaustion as he stares at the tile. and just as he shuts his eyes, he hears that low, gentle voice.

it’s alright.

dazai smiles a little. he grabs a towel from the floor, wraps himself in it and curls up on the tile. he’s warm from fever.

i’m here.

[ohbo-ohno]

Kinktober Day 23 - Deepthroating

Ghost x Soap ft. Price- 1.1k

summary: Simon has Johnny deepthroat him as a punishment, then lets Price have a turn. (Ghost POV)

cw: dom!ghost, dom!price, sub!soap, voyeurism, putting a cigar out on someone's tongue, light degradation, referenced somnophilia (one line)

Ghost cups the side of Johnny’s face in his hand, strokes his thumb over his temple and applies just a bit of pressure against the shaved sides with his fingertips. Johnny’s eyes flicker open at the pressure, glancing up to Ghost before sliding shut again.

He smiles at the sight of his boy so blissed out, gone stupid on his cock.

This is just what Johnny had needed. Worked up after a mission gone wrong, he’d been twitchy and snappish for days. He was a bit better with Ghost in the privacy of their quarters, but had been a demon to deal with anywhere else on base. The recruits hadn't stopped whining since he'd gotten back, and Soap wasn't showing any signs of calming down as the days passed.

Ghost's breaking point had come when Johnny started his snipping and bitching at Ghost and Price - and in front of other soldiers. He'd been so worked up, tension riding every bone of his body while he was hissing and spitting about some asinine complaint. He'd gotten himself so riled up that Ghost ended up having to drag him off to their room to put him back in his place privately, and he hadn't had any compunctions about waving at Price to follow him.

Now Johnny sinks an inch further onto Ghost’s cock, the entirety of his thick shaft resting inside his mouth. Ghost knows he must be fighting every instinct to keep from gagging, feels his warm throat spasm occasionally, but he stays good and still like he was trained.

“There ya go,” Ghost soothes, pushing his head just a hint more to keep Soap’s nose pressed to his stomach. “Just what you needed, huh? Need to be shown what you should be usin’ your mouth for. Meant to be suckin’ men off, Johnny, not talkin’ back to your superiors.”

Price hums in agreement at that, his own legs spread wide in the armchair next to where Ghost sits. He takes a long puff of his cigar, exhales the smoke straight up towards the ceiling. 

“I still think you should be giving him a whipping,” Price grumbles, shifting to run a hand over his hard cock where it rests against his thigh. “Hard-headed thing like him won’t learn shit from this.”

Ghost only smirks beneath the mask. “He’ll get his real punishment later, he knows that. But I don’t share his pain.” He sends a sharp look to his C.O. - even though he’d allow Price to see Johnny like this now, anything more belonged to Simon and Simon alone. Price gives him a nod, a little twitch to his lips telegraphing his amusement at the possessiveness. It doesn't bother Ghost - he's made sure it's no secret who Johnny belongs to.

He shifts his hand to give a light tug to Johnny’s hair. “Alright. You’re gonna go ahead and get me off, then go apologize to the Captain properly, yeah?”

Johnny doesn’t respond, just blinks slowly and sucks a little at the tip of Simon’s cock. He laughs a little at the sight, guides Johnny’s head in long and slow strokes up and down his dick. “Don’t know why I bother askin’, you’re too dumb to answer right now. Just suck a little bit, baby, then we’ll give Price a turn with your mouth.”

The blowjob is slower than most Johnny gives, mostly because Simon controls the pace and Johnny himself is too far gone to want anything faster. He runs his tongue along Ghost’s cock just the way he likes, though, and hollows his cheeks to give Simon a nice tight hole.

He buries himself deep in Johnny’s throat when he comes, making sure that every drop goes right to his stomach - this is still a punishment after all, he doesn't deserve to taste Simon's cum, just to swallow it. He leaves Johnny there for a few moments, letting his cock soften in the wet warmth and making sure not a drop is wasted. Johnny would rest on his cock for hours with the headspace he’s in, so Ghost is the one that slowly pulls him away.

Johnny makes a low noise in his throat once his mouth is empty, leans his head on Ghost’s thigh and stares up at him with half-lidded eyes. His jaw stays open, little panting breaths passing swollen lips.

“Good boy, Johnny,” Ghost praises. “Gonna be good for Price too? Take his cock and keep it nice and warm in your mouth?”

Another whine from Soap, and a snort from Price.

“Doesn’t look like he’s aware enough to make it any good.”

“Oh, he is. Even fucked out and stupid, he knows how to properly suck a cock. The slut’s been doing it for years, can even give a decent blowjob when he’s asleep.”

“And you’ve seen that?”

Ghost smirks. “What better way to wake up than the taste of cum in your mouth? It's a slut’s favorite breakfast.”

That gets a full laugh from Price, his cock bouncing where his stomach heaves. He sits a little straighter in his seat, pats his thigh a few times. “Alright, let's get this done then. C’mere, Johnny.”

It takes Soap a bit to move over to Price, his limbs heavy and movements sluggish. His eyes never quite open the whole way, but his mouth opens wide as soon as he gets himself between his Captain’s knees. 

“Tongue out for me, Sergeant.” 

Johnny’s pink tongue unfurls immediately, rests on his lip and leaves his chin a little wet. Price grabs him by the jaw with his free hand, holds his lit cigar above the muscle and looks to Ghost for permission, gets a nod and puts his cigar out on Johnny’s tongue

The smaller man whines at that, the noise loud and unblocked with his mouth held open, a pure sound of pain and a bit of confusion - Johnny’s drifted too far to know what is and isn’t a punishment, probably sees any pain that doesn’t get him off as bad at that moment. Ghost sees a few tears slip down his cheeks, feels his cock twitch at Johnny’s furrowed brows and wet eyes.

“Hush, boy,” Price grumbles, running a thumb over the ashy spot on Johnny’s tongue and ignoring the ensuing whimpers. He clears the spot off, then guides his head to his ruddy cock. Johnny whines a little more, but sinks down on the shaft in one long, smooth movement. “You’re fine. Get me off and then your man’ll give you some nice cuddles before your whipping.”

Ghost settles back with a smirk, stroking his cock slowly to the show his boy gives. Price isn't wrong - Soap's in for a rough punishment, but he already knows he'll spend a few long hours with the smaller man curled around him tonight.

He's not sure he could ask for a better evening.

[oneatlatime]

Zuko Alone

I'm hoping for some Appa this episode. It's been too long since he's gotten any good sight gags.

Zuko is cosplaying Clint Eastwood. He's also back to being stupid pale this episode.

You know it's a good thing that Zuko's not in the Fire Nation anymore because he really would have sucked at being Fire Nation. Robbing pregnant women is probably kindergarden level stuff for them.

How is Zuko in such bad shape? Last time we saw him he had a cave full of spoils robbed from rich people. Did he not bother to pack at least some of that stuff? Actually, not thinking far enough ahead to pack would be pretty in character.

Oof that would rub me the wrong way. Not enough money for a meal, but sure, let's use totally edible eggs as ammo.

Where'd the egg go?

Who is the scarred up hat wearing vampire and what happened to the real Zuko? Imposter Zuko just elected to not be provoked into a fight. Real Zuko would already be setting things on fire.

Just a bunch of thugs. Yep. It's consistently awesome how many of the facets of war this show can cover.

Imposter Zuko and Song's horse bird just got kidnapped. Did not see that coming.

Zuko kind of has arm bandages like Sokka has this episode. Also love the character detail that the boy has scraped knees.

Is the kid's dad the same guy as the man at the store? Or maybe this is a one haircut town?

So the guy who was near to fainting off his horse bird this morning is now turning down freely offered food? Could Zuko please shelve his pride for five minutes? Kudos to the mom for accurately reading his distaste for charity and turning it into a request for aid though. Although covering for the boy's egg trick is worth at least a meal.

Tangent!

I don't get Zuko. How can he still have so much pride when he's wearing rags and starving himself to feed Song's horse bird? I'm quite shameless when it comes to accepting help and I've never, ever been able to understand the whole 'too proud to accept charity' mindset. I'm always up for some charity. I have enough manners to offer to do the dishes after, but if you're offering free food I'm eating it. And I've never been in a situation as desperate as Zuko's. So I don't get this.

ok tangent over.

Peak rich kid behaviour. I hope those nails aren't expensive otherwise Zuko doing work for food might end up with this family out of pocket.

Is the wood grain on this ladder an actual photograph of wood grain?

Zuko has more patience this episode than he had for all of season 1 combined. He's also never gone this long without yelling. Either proximity to young children activates Zuko's otherwise mostly slumbering decency, or to fit him into a Fistful of Dollars homage the writers had to make him out of character.

If I had been in this situation when I was a kid, if I had been a) this visibly bored, and b) this nosy around guests, I would have been given a hammer and a bag of nails in three seconds flat. Also, nice to see a Sokka face from Zuko.

I get that 'a man without a past' is a staple of the cowboy genre, but the boy's father bringing up the privacy of the past twice in like two minutes makes me think he's done stuff he doesn't want to talk about. Seems both the parents have read Zuko right though.

Finally! Some pretty! I have been suffering! This may be the first really good pretty all season!

Bad news for the Appa decor on my blog. He may have been supplanted in my affections.

Two things: first, Zuko is a carbon copy of his mom. Second, That is way too much forehead.

Having Zuko's mom introduce herself by talking about the lengths mothers will go to for their children is not giving me foreshadowing anxiety at all.

Azula's been a bitch since birth. Noted.

Sir, your eyebrows. Also, yeah, I wouldn't want to play with her either.

Yikes this is making my teeth itch and my skin crawl. Calling it now, she's rotten to the core.

Zuko and Azula's dad has some weak ass genes. BOTH of his children are carbon copies of their mom.

Also, I was not expecting Zuko's very stupid ponytail to be a pre-scar thing. It is much better with a full head of hair.

If I had spent my childhood hanging out with an untouchable princess who set things on my head on fire for fun whenever I involuntarily displayed emotion, I'd be gloomy and apathetic in self defense too.

Sokka in this episode in spirit, if not in person.

Seriously that's the same face three times over!

Um, no? If Iroh doesn't make it back from the front, doesn't his son become next in line to be Firelord?

Can you hear all the unspoken "father thinks that" and "father says that" in front of every one of Azula's opinions in this whole scene? I stand by my assertion that she's awful anyways, but she's also obviously drunk much too much of her dad's koolaid, if you know what I mean.

This kid is going to get into so much trouble one of these days. Provoking the soldiers, nagging the mysterious stranger with the mysterious past, and now taking his weapons? Kid's sweet but he really needs to learn when to stop pushing his luck.

Stabbing dead, dried wood sounds like a great way to utterly annihilate the edge on those. Hope Zuko packed a whetstone.

Where is this patience coming from? I don't understand and it's BUGGING me.

Hold on. Technical problems.

My very basic DVD player sometimes has difficulty with these disks. Whatever happened between the above two screenshots, I've missed it. So picking back up from the one on the right...

Either these soldiers are impressively cowardly (which, yeah) or Zuko's really been working on his death glare, because they've got him outnumbered and out-armoured and they still back off.

OH it's parallels! Zuko's cousin and the boy's older brother. Got it. Kind of a false parallel though. Grandson of the Firelord does not equal earth kingdom conscript.

Give the demonstrably impulsive and nosy child a knife. That'll work out just fine I'm sure. Pretty sad the kid glommed on to Zuko so quickly, but it's also yet another realistic representation of the consequences of war. This show's good.

*shudders* theatre kids.

She's tiny! Do you know how darkly humourous it is to watch a two foot tall baby spout her father's murderous nonsense? Once again, in this whole scene, not a word out of Azula's mouth is actually Azula's.

"What is wrong with that child?" Apart from budding homicidal and psychopathic tendencies? Her dad. Her dad is what's wrong with that child.

Their dad has no subtlety at all. And also no brain? You think a day after the firelord finds out one of his family died is the right time to very boorishly make a play for the crown with you daughter as a prop? Could you possibly come up with a better demonstration of why this guy shouldn't be in charge?

How did this asshole land such a nice wife?

Yep. Siding with the old firelord on this one.

Does flashback Zuko sleep in his day clothes? Because that's not ok.

I like that their mom sees straight through Azula's lying here. She knows her daughter.

In a move that should surprise no one, everything Zuko touches turns to shit, as usual.

It's the Mexico filter!

Absolute truth from Zuko in that monologue. He's got them pegged. Too bad it fell on deaf ears. It's Zuko's curse, that whenever he approaches being remotely reasonable, he happens to be surrounded by people who will react in such a way that Zuko learns to equate being reasonable with failure.

An earthbender. The bare feet should have clued me in.

Last season Zuko and Iroh laid waste to like ten of these guys. And Iroh didn't even have pants. So what gives? Is he that starved?

Ursa pulling a Mufasa.

Don't answer don't answer don't answer

And he does.

Zuko is so very good at completely misinterpreting the point.

So we can add thief to the list of things that make Azula awful. Also that delivery of "who's going to make me? Mom?" is chilling. Zuko's lost his only defender inside this atrocious family and she knows it, he knows it, hell the turtleducks probably know it.

His dying wish? You guys buying that?

Ozai. That's his name. I'd forgotten that.

So... something something dead firelord something something missing mom something something maybe Azula wasn't actually lying this time?

Final Thoughts

The title wasn't kidding. Let's rename the show 'Avatar: the Guy who's Really Bad at Capturing Him' while we're at it.

There is now no way whatsoever that Zuko is not going to be redeemed. No writing team would invest that much energy and a whole episode into a character we're not ultimately supposed to root for. So somehow he's going to end up joining the Gaang. Don't know how he'll pull that one off. He's done some pretty not great stuff. And it's not like the Gaang watched this episode and unlocked his tragic backstory.

Speaking of, what prompted these reflections? I could understand if Zuko started to contemplate his cousin and the events surrounding his loss in the war after he learned about the family's older brother, but he was having flashbacks before he even got to town. Usually when there are backstory bits, there's a good reason to show them at that time, like how the Storm prompts Aang to think about the last storm he was in, or seeing a boat from his father's fleet prompts Sokka to remember what his dad told him. So what caused Zuko's memories to give him situationally appropriate flashbacks?

Pretty funny that he found the Nice Earth Kingdom Family that Azula predicted for him. And they are really nice! Either Zuko is an open book or the parents' social intelligence is off the charts because they're giving him exactly what he needs to feel at ease after barely a single conversation.

Speaking of Azula, I'm not surprised to find that she's always had deeply awful tendencies, even as a child of (I'm guessing) less than ten. But it cannot be ignored that, from the moment her father took a liking to her (as a tool to boost his own greatness, if not as a person), she didn't stand a chance. You can tell by the number of times that the stuff coming out of her mouth is a thinly veiled repetition of her father's unfiltered opinions, that she's been spending lots of time listening to him, probably while he puts down her mom and brother and talks about how she's the special one. You know what I'm getting at. Azula never stood a chance once her father got involved, and her mom lost the ability to influence her once her father started giving Azula praise for objectively wrong behaviour. That being said, Azula is awful even when she doesn't need to be awful for her father's approval, like when she's with her friends, so it's not all her father's doing. She's not a good person but she also had plenty of help to become that.

I guess Zuko and his mom are Fire Nation anomalies? And maybe Iroh has become that since his son died and he lost the war?

How on earth did Zuko survive as long as he did in the palace without his mom to protect him? What a no-win situation to be in. The only person in a whole nation with empathy.

This episode does makes Season 1 Zuko make more sense. He's been larping his dad as a defense mechanism for surviving the Fire Nation/probably a very futile effort to earn his approval. Although Zuko doesn't seem to care much for his dad if the tone he takes with him by the turtleduck pond is any indication.

Being banished was the best thing that ever happened to Zuko. The more distance between him and his remaining non-uncle family, the better. Between prioritizing his crew over capturing the avatar in the Storm, releasing the Avatar in the Blue Spirit, and now defending a random earth kingdom child this episode, it's hilarious how much Zuko HASN'T learned the lesson that Ozai banished him for not knowing. Don't get me wrong; that's a good thing. This episode plainly shows that behaviour that pleases Ozai is behaviour that should be unlearned as quickly as possible.

Zuko completely missing the point of his mom's last instruction is delightfully on the nose. But it also makes sense, which I may talk more about later.

How did Zuko hold on to his temper (and his volume) for a whole episode?

How did a show named after the main character get away with an episode that doesn't feature him at all? As a concept, this is such a strange episode. The writers were like "how can we kick start the woobification of Zuko? I know! A Spaghetti Western!" and it worked. Who comes up with that?

I now want at least as much, if not more, of Sokka and Katara's childhood via flashbacks. And more Gyatso please. If they can devote a whole episode to the childhood of a guy who isn't even a team member yet, they can show me some Sokka childhood shenanigans as a palette cleanser.

I really don't know what conclusion to draw about this episode. The writers have given me a massive backstory/trauma dump and I'm honestly like:

[cozzzynook]

can we plz have some dratchrod where roddy actually DOES know he's sparked?

I want this to be a long post which is why I waited so long to start it.

“You okay there Roddy?”

“Hm? Oh yeah, I’m fine,” he assured not looking up from the computer screen as he picked up the twisted sweet metal covered in tungsten shavings.

Drift looked at the snack in complete disgust but quickly hid it when he thought Rodimus was about to look up at him. He shivered in absolute repulsion when Rodimus hummed and added more tungsten to the sweet metal twist and happily ate the disaster not paying him any attention.

“Are ya sure?”

“Yeah, why?”

Rodimus still hadn’t looked up at Drift and the mech was pouting at that. He wanted Roddy’s attention and he was going to get it.

“Oh just, just checking on you,” Drift said wrapping his arms around Rodimus’s neck cables, placing a suggestive kiss to his flare that was oddly cool.

“Are you cold Roddy?”

The words were said with questioning accusation and that made Rodimus look up.

“Its nothing serious Drift, don’t go dragging Ratchet in here on his day off over nothing,” he couldn’t help but stress that last part as his words were falling on deaf audials. That and well, his emotive balance was so out of wack.

“There’s no way you’re fine when you’re cold Roddy, cold. You are never cold. We’re going back to our hab where Ratty can look you over,” Drift hauled Rodimus up by his under arms and that made the mech stumble.

He felt his tanks shifting and he gagged almost purging from the sudden movement.

It did not go unnoticed by Drift whose optics widened before he grabbed the waist bin with unfair speed and held it at his upper chassis where he promptly grabbed the bin and purged the contents of his tanks.

Drift was pinging Ratchet waking the mech from recharge telling him the situation.

Rodimus tried to speak through the purging but he couldn’t even lift his servo up.

He needed Drift’s help lowering back into the chair where he managed to sigh from relief before his last roll of nausea emptied his tank and he was rubbing the plump area with a shaky servo.

“Roddy I swear if you’ve been sick this whole time and have been keeping it from us I will throttle-”

“Leave the threats to me Drift, I’m more than ready to give them,” Rodimus glanced at Ratchet who was looking half well rested as he made his way over to the two.

‘Well there goes my time to myself and the surprise,’ he grumbled before stilling as he rubbed a tender spot on his plating that was trying to make him purge again.

He rolled his optics at Ratchet and Drift completely shocking the two at the sudden shift in attitude.

“I’m not sick, I already know whats wrong with me. So kindly let go and don’t scan me without permission. I’m in my right mind so no actually you can’t,” he frowned towards the end of his statement. Pulling himself free of Drifts hold as he kept a servo on his tank and sat back in his chair.

He was too weak to do more than that, emotive imbalance really took a lot of him when he was upset and so did purging.

“And do kindly tell us just why you haven’t said anything or how you found out without me diagnosing you?”

Ratchet did not take well to being out of the loop on their medical charts and for a moment he remembered the time he fell out because his medicine dosage was wrong and his spark didn’t get the stimulants necessary to regulate it.

He had an audial full from both mechs and wasn’t allowed from their sights for months.

Thats kinda how he ended up in this situation he was in now.

All those months spent bending him over when they were alone..with more than a few times wearing no spike sleeve definitely did it.

He should’ve been more careful.

‘Damnit,’ he tried sniffling discreetly but those two always saw everything. ‘Stupid roller emotives,’ he felt anger flaring again and Drift and Ratchet were looking concerned for him again.

“Roddy? We promise, it’s okay,” Drift assured him bending down putting a servo on his shoulder, “whatever it is we’ll still love you.”

He turned away looking up and had to rush his words, “it’s not..i’ll tell you later. It’s not..bad..I don’t think..its..I’ll tell you later okay? I promise. First Aid already knows he checked me over and yes Ratchet I trust you but sometimes its easier going to First aid since I’m not fucking him.”

He was glad he put it so bluntly. It made Drift laugh and it made Ratchet his usual grouchy self.

“I’ll meet you guys in our hab later? Please?”

They looked beyond hesitant and now that he’s not swinging on anger he completely understands.

‘This is going to be such a long two years, got damnit.’

He vented deeply to calm his nerves and smiled when they agreed.

They were slow to leave and he was glad Ratchet didn’t scan him in secret and that Drift didn’t try any weird techniques to get a reading on his vitals and internal logs.

He laid back in his chair and looked down at his tanks where he sighed again and put a servo on the bump.

He closes his optics and just let himself rest for a while.

He was so thankful the two trusted him and believed him, gave him space to think and relax even after he purged in front of them and got weak.

He didn’t know how they would take him being sparked but he did hope the reaction wouldn’t be bad.

Cleaning his office and turning on a scent cleanser Rodimus left his office and wandered to the upper decks where they kept a large array of things. He wandered until he made it to the door that was always unlocked and stepped inside.

Trying to calm his nerves, he went past the heavier items and moved towards the smaller things. He looked around wondering what would best describe why he was in his current predicament that was easiest to understand.

He couldn’t decide between a stuffed toy, a bottle, a clothing item, or a pacifier.

He wondered if he should just grab it all and hope for the best?

“No..it should be special right?”

He didn’t want to regret telling them, this wouldn’t be something he could do over and thats a big reason he didn’t want to tell them earlier when they were all in bad spirits.

Deep down somewhere within he wanted this. A major part of him was afraid and didn’t ever want to have a sparkling because he disliked so many things about himself and didn’t want to damage another being. But he also use to dream of little pedes waking him and tiny optics opening after a big yawn.

He wanted this, he just..knew it wasn’t fair for someone else to have this with him.

He was not the viable option to have a sparkling with and thats why he struggled so much in keeping them. He still has a minor window to extinguish the new spark but now he would have to explain that to Drift and Ratchet and it would be hard to write that off or dodge them when he was recovering.

Sure he could keep it private since it was his frame but..he didn’t want to do that to them.

He vents a little too hard, rubbing his tanks to keep them from getting too upset and he continues his search.

“Maybe I should just go with something like the stuff toy and bottle? Drift will like the toy and Ratch will say the bottle is practical, he’ll like that.”

He could easily find things they’d like but he doesn’t know or see anything he’ll like.

He just sighs and grabs the two items ready to turn and leave when he spots something.

Walking over, he feels anticipation thrumming and he lifts the small item.

It’s a sparklings blanket.

The blanket has the old stitchings of Nyonian stars and he drops the bottle and stuff toy on top of something else as he holds the blanket close.

He feels his optics watering and he holds the cloth close, crying fluid into it as static sparks in his vox.

He stays there for a good while, just holding the blanket he feels a connection to.

Its not his.

Everything of his was destroyed during the fall of Nyon but this. This is a piece of history that can’t be forgotten or recreated.

Old servos made this for a loved one and while he feels guilty its not his loved one they made it for he feels honored being able to use it.

Looking at his chronometer, Rodimus leaves the room, taking the galaxy themed pacifier with him before leaving towards their hab.

When he quietly enters, he glances around to see the two recharging on the couch with the tv on.

They were waiting for him it seems.

He feels bad and carefully shifts them so they’re more comfortable laying down as he moves the pillow and puts a blanket over them.

He turns the tv off and cleans the area, holding the blanket in his arms with the pacifier inside.

He places the blanket between them so it rests on their touching chassis and he gazes at them before going to their berth and laying down.

He hopes that in the morning when the two wake they’ll be happy with the news.

He’s not sure they’ll even get it.

But he does know one thing.

He’ll do this.

With or without them.

And when morning comes and he wakes to Drift excitedly shaking him awake with Ratchet smiling as he feels on his tanks, he knows everything will be okay.

[mojogojocasahouse]

indecent proposals

Pairing: Alhaitham x Kaveh

The Grand Sage of the Akademiya is being fucked absolutely stupid by the Light of Kshahrewar. If only all of the people beneath them right now knew what was happening. 

c: masturbation, face fucking, anal fingering, anal sex, top kaveh/bottom alhaitham, implied verse kaveh/alhaitham, sex in the Grand Sage's office, needy alhaitham, porn without plot

18+ only

“Kaveh…” 

The name slipped from his lips like a prayer. Alhaitham was holed up in his current, temporary office–that of the Grand Sage–his cock tight in his grip, teeth gnashed and sweat dripping down his temple. An early morning had gotten him off on the wrong foot, the sight of his “roommate” sprawled across the bed they shared amidst silky sheets still seared into his head. The rising sun filtering through the gauzy curtains had set Kaveh’s porcelain skin aglow, his blond hair mussed around his face both from sleep and Alhaitham’s fingers in their activities the night before.

He’d had to resist nipping at the curve of Kaveh’s neck and pulling the smaller man’s pliant body flush against his chest, because the second sleepy fingers instinctively entwined with his he’d simply have forgotten his duties and responsibilities all together. Sort of like he was now.

“Kaveh…” he whines again, frustration growing, no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t replicate the feeling of the architect exploring his body like he’d designed it himself.

“What’s this?” a familiar lilt sings out and Alhaitham’s eyes snap open, “Miss me that much already?”

Busted.

“And to think I thought you’d had your fill last night,” Kaveh continues as he saunters closer to the desk, casting Mehrak aside and unclasping the brooch at his neck.

Alhaitham watches as the red cape falls to the floor, mortified and so fucking turned on his tongue is paralyzed. His gaze is transfixed as Kaveh approaches, spins the large chair Alhaitham is slumped over in, and drops to his knees.

“Don’t mess my hair up,” Kaveh warns as he pushes his blond tresses to one side, “I’m meeting a client in an hour.”

As much as Alhaitham hates this job, he’s never been more grateful for the seclusion of its office. Kaveh bats at the Acting Grand Sage’s hand, quickly replacing the grip of a fist with the warm, wet heat of his throat. Alhaitham forgets the previous instruction and takes two fists of soft, silky hair, pushing his cock deeper and burying Kaveh’s nose in the thatch of course, silver curls at his base. His growling moan echoes off the walls, head falling back in bliss as he feels Kaveh ignoring the urge to gag, if he had any wits about him at all he’d praise Kaveh just the way he likes. But all he can think about is how good it feels every time Kaveh’s body fights at his intrusion.

He’s hit with a scolding swat to his thigh, Kaveh’s ruby irises glaring up at him for disobeying the one rule he’d set forth, refusing to move before Alhaitham removes his iron grip. But Alhaitham is too far gone, all he can think about is holding his frenemy turned roommate turned lover in place and thrusting down his gullet until the wet sounds of his dick bruising Kaveh’s throat drowns out his own pathetic mewling. He’s well aware he’ll be paying for it sooner rather than later, the fury in those fiery eyes warning him. It’s too bad for Kaveh that it’s his rage Alhaitham wants. 

“Just behave yourself,” Alhaitham snaps as he stands, keeping himself sheathed and then using his newfound leverage, “I’ll fix your hair for you after.”

There’s no use in Kaveh worrying about his hair when he’s dripping with his own spit anyway. His chin and chest are soaked, saliva and precum bubbling at the corners of his mouth. It’s so lewd and obscene it has Alhaitham’s balls drawing upwards and his pace picking up, Kaveh’s nails digging into the tight black fabric of Alhaitham’s pants as he settles in for the onslaught. Alhaitham is so close his skin prickles, air burning as he forces it into his lungs, and he’s left having to make a quick decision if he’d rather come down Kaveh’s throat or during Kaveh’s attempt at retaliation.

A decision is made for him when Kaveh reaches up and cups his balls, massaging as he laves his tongue out when Althaitham slows in his deliberations. Alhaitham hisses in approval, slamming his hips back in and spurting hot, thick ropes down as deep as he can get them. Kaveh doesn’t even bat an eye, not so much as a flinch as he swallows down every drop. 

“I had one request!” 

Unfortunately, Kaveh’s nonchalance to what had just transpired leaves him of sound mind, and as soon as Alhaitham frees his mouth, he’s scolding. 

“I said don’t mess up my hair! And what do you do seconds later…”

Here comes the part Alhaitham was craving, needing. It doesn’t happen often, but today it’s exactly what he wants. Despite how small in stature Kaveh is, he’s got enough strength to manhandle Alhaitham, aided by the larger man’s cooperation. Paper sticks to Alhaitham’s sweat-dampened cheek as he’s bent over the desk, a slew of research proposals he was supposed to have been reviewing instead of fantasizing about the man shoving both of their pants down and kicking Alhaitham’s feet into a wider stance. He should be signing documents with the pens Kaveh is currently throwing around in a drawer searching for the small bottle of lubricant he knows Alhaitham keeps there just in case. His mind should be mulling over which scholars were worthy of his approval, not begging silently for something to just fill him up already. 

Cool, slick fingers press against Alhaitham’s hole, Kaveh’s touch incapable of being rough even when he’s mad. 

“Is this what you want?” Kaveh asks, skepticism laced in his tone.

“Yes,” Alhaitham assures, his entrance clenching around nothing but anticipation. 

“What happened? What’s wrong?”

“Just fuck me, Kaveh.”

They can talk about it later. It’s not like it’s a big deal anyway, Alhaitham just wants to let his brain go quiet, and taking all Kaveh has to give feels like the perfect solution. But there’s caution in Kaveh’s motions now, those lithe fingers massaging the puckered ring at a pace that’s just too slow. 

A feral snarl rips from Alhaitham’s chest, the small bottle of lube that had been set on the desk within reach. He coats his own fingers, nudging Kaveh out of the way and sinking his middle digit into himself. 

“Hey!” Kaveh protests, but he does nothing to stop Alhaitham as he works his hole open. That’s fine, he can enjoy watching. 

Two palms spread Alhaitham’s cheeks when he adds a second finger, scissoring himself loose enough to fit a third under Kaveh’s watchful, reverent gaze. The Scribe’s eyes flit between the architect’s face and the way he was lazily fisting his cock, flushed red and pearling at the tip. The pink tint of arousal on his skin in that deep V cut shirt contrasts beautifully with the flowing white fabric, and it’s a shame Alhaitham is above begging because he can’t reach as deep as he wants to—needs to—but the sight of Kaveh practically panting watching Alhaitham finger his own ass urges him to continue for a least a few moments longer. 

“I’m ready,” Alhaitham groans as frustration burns deep in his belly, “Or are you just going to stand there?”

“Pardon me for enjoying the show,” Kaveh replies, roughly pinning Alhaitham’s wrist to the small of his back.

After gently pushing the head through the tight barrier and giving Althaitham a moment to adjust, Kaveh pushes himself in to the hilt. A slight punishment, no doubt, but one that has Alhaitham crying out in relief. Kaveh is built long and thin everywhere, and every thrust has his dick carving its way to where Alhaitham needs him most. The blonde mewls and whimpers unrestrained; Alhaitham has always loved that about him, his ability to project his bliss so openly and without shame. It’s something Alhaitham is still working on, but when the head of Kaveh’s shaft kisses his prostate, his own low-pitched whines mingle in the air with his lover’s. 

“Right there,” Alhaitham moans, Kaveh somehow getting deeper so more of his cock drags along the sensitive bundle of nerves, “Kaveh…”

“I know, I know,” Kaveh soothes, his voice barely audible over the sound of skin slapping against skin.

“Harder…”

With his free hand, Kaveh yanks Alhaitham’s back flush with his chest by a fistful of hair, the new position sending sparks flying behind Alhaitham’s eyes. His wrist is finally released, only for the hand that had restrained him to move to his cock, already hard and weeping once again. 

It’s like Kaveh is splitting him open from this angle, he can feel every inch dragging in and out of his ass, each thrust of Kaveh’s hips rippling up his spine and searing out all the way into his fingertips. The hand around his shaft pumps in perfect synchrony with the battering his prostate is taking, leaving Alhaitham nothing but a babbling, incoherent mess. He can’t form a single word on his tongue, nor can he control the symphony of pathetic sounds falling from his mouth, slackened jaw and all.

The Grand Sage of the Akademiya is being fucked absolutely stupid by the Light of Kshahrewar. If only all of the people beneath them right now knew what was happening. 

Alhaitham wants to collapse forward, but Kaveh is holding his boneless, slack body in place as he ruts mercilessly into warm, wet heat, Alhaitham is going to be feeling him for hours. It’ll be just as intended. Kaveh’s taken to swirling his thumb through the sticky mess shining on the head of Alhaitham’s cock, his teeth grazing over the shell of Alhaitham’s ears. Kaveh is the only thing Alhaitham can focus on; the slight floral scent that clings to his skin, his hot breath against his neck, how he’s filled almost to the point of breaking, and the heat blossoming in his gut is nothing but a euphoric culmination of it all.

“You feel so good,” Kaveh purrs, “I want you to come for me. Come on my cock, Haitham.”

It’s not in Alhaitham’s power to disobey. Kaveh’s palm is there to capture his prize, white hot and thick, allowing Alhaitham to limply fall back onto his desk, panting and shivering from overstimulation and exertion. The architect begins gliding his fist over the Scribe’s softening cock, lubricated by Alhaitham’s own spend, the shock of it tensing his body much to Kaveh’s delight. A debauched cry falls from the blonde’s mouth as Alhaitham begins to squirm in an attempt to ease the burning, but Kaveh’s hold is unforgiving.

“S’too much!” Alhaitham cries, Kaveh’s shaft still battering into his now-gaping hole, “Kaveh…”

“You should see yourself,” Kaveh pants, his eyes locked on Alhaitham’s reddened rim stretched around his dick, “So, so beautiful.”

Beautiful? He feels disgusting. He’s coated in his own cum and sweat, clothes sticking to his searing skin uncomfortably, Kaveh still bullying his way into his guts–disgusting, but satisfied. So, so satisfied. He knows Kaveh’s close when both hands grip his hips hard enough to bruise, purple marks he’ll marvel at in the mirror later this evening, his senior’s pace picking up while his head falls back in bliss. 

“Inside?” Kaveh asks in a raspy tone, and all Alhaitham can do is nod.

A wretching cry of his name fills the entire room, Kaveh painting Alhaitham’s insides with ropes of cum, his cock fucking it deep into the silver-haired man’s stomach. He’ll be feeling it the rest of the day, reminding him of the man waiting at home for him. When Kaveh pulls out, Alhaitham groans at the loss, but sighs in relief as featherlight kisses press to each of his burning asscheeks. He winces when the cool air hits his skin, Kaveh’s light affections enough to keep the discomfort bearable.

“Thank you,” Alhaitham sighs, Kaveh laughing against his skin before standing and pulling Alhaitham’s pants back into place and then fixing his own, “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Oh…” Kaveh titters as Alhaitham holds to his word, spinning to begin fixing the braid and clips adorning soft blonde hair, “I…forgot my key again.”

A mess of sweat-soaked silver hair falls to the shoulder in front of him. Some things never change.

Masterlist

[b000mbayah]

Alphabet love Sana

જ⁀➴ જ⁀➴ જ⁀➴𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 જ⁀➴ જ⁀➴ જ⁀➴

Requested: Yes

Word count: 1,378

Warnings: None

જ⁀➴ જ⁀➴ જ⁀➴𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 જ⁀➴ જ⁀➴ જ⁀➴

Attention

When is there ever a moment without you being smothered in her love? Sana snuggles you as often as possible and keeps you close like a polar bear and its child.

Beauty

Your love for each other is pure and straight from the heart. It often has your friends gagging at the sight, but you know they're secretly happy that you're happy.

Comfort

Sana values your comfort as much as she does her own. If you're not feeling okay, Sana will help aid you to a secure setting and reassure you as much as needed.

Dreams

Sana often jokes about how she never wants to sleep again, now that her real world is finally better than her sleep one. But that still doesn't stop you from appearing in her dreams when she does sleep.

Equality

Sana does believe in equality, that equality is one of the most important aspects to any kind of relationship. However, in certain situations, one of you will have more power than the other- and that's perfectly fine as long as you're both okay with it.

First encounter

It was at her close friends' birthday dinner when she first met you. You showed up in a more casual attire- yet Sana could swear on everything that she had never seen someone more stunning than you. Sana ended up spending most of the night talking to you, right after claiming a seat adjacent to you. She ended up sleeping like a baby that night, with a few drinks stirring in her head, your face in her heart, and your contact in her phone.

Gratitude

Sana absolutely loves you and often shows you just how much through romantic dates and the use of her love languages. This is just her way of appreciating you.

Hugs

Back hugs, side hugs, regular hugs. They all hold a huge place in your relationship. Sana loves to nuzzle her head into you, squeezing you lightly as she giggles away to the rhythm of your heartbeat.

Interests

You may not share the same interests, but Sana would be more than over the moon to share her hobbies with you, and she'd be even more ecstatic if you introduced her to your own interests. She'd sit through years of movie marathons with you if it means you're spending time together.

Jealousy

Sana gets jealous, and when she gets jealous, she gets pouty and almost baby-like. She'll sulk in the corner, her bottom lip protruding out until you notice her. She'll be stubborn about it too- she'll refuse to talk to you for an hour or two until you smother her in your love for her.

Knowledge

Sana has had her fair share of crushes, but relationships? Sana couldn't really remember her last one of those. She'd try her best for you no matter what, but she'd need your willingness and cooperation too.

Love confession

She had confessed first, albeit it was just a smidge bit spontaneous and not exactly… memorable, partly because she was drunk and passed out right after. You were only there to help her home when she flung her arm around the back of your neck and confessed, saying "I think you could be an even better friend, if we were more than friends" when you questioned her the next day, she admitted with a shy smile and a face of heavy blush.

Memories

Sana often snaps silly and goofy selfies of you two- or even just pictures of you- or forcing you to take pictures of herself. She claims it's for memories sake, which is half true, but it's also so she can ugly laugh in her own time about how stupid you both truly are with each other.

Naps

Sana needs to uphold her energetic ways one way or another, so naps are a perfect fit for just this. Sana would demand you join her too- claiming she can't nap without you being her nap buddy. Will layer you both in blankets and sheets, pillows lining the bed, or couch, or anywhere really, as long as she can nap with you.

Opportunities

Sana would never, ever want to miss out on an opportunity if it means being with you. Sana sees every opportunity as a chance to get to know one another impossibly more somehow, and if she squeezes the towel enough, she knows she'll be able to get something new, even if you, yourself, didn't know it.

PDA

You know the saying, "No Sana, no life" well, to Sana, it's more like "No PDA, no life." Sana takes PDA like it's her second job, like she has an unspoken role to fulfil in the eye of the demanding public. Of course, if you're not completely comfortable with this, then she'll reframe, but she wants nothing more than to show you off to the world as her only sweetheart.

Quality

Think of a surreal scene in a mystical forest, where unicorns jump after bubbles. Now, picture yourself and Sana. There's literally no difference. Your relationship is purer than the rarest gems and stronger than titanium. She loves you across the universe and back, and as do you, so your relationship is almost unrealistically desirable.

Romance

Sana can be extremely romantic at times. A surprise dinner date. A surprise bouquet of your favourite (possibly fake if you're allergic) flowers on your work desk. A surprise Teddy already sat in your shared bed when you get home. It's honestly become such a common thing that your shared apartment is almost decorated in only the gifts Sana has gotten you. How you decide to be romantic is up to you. Just know Sana will love it more than anything in the world.

Support

Sana will always be here to supply you with her shoulder to cry on- or just her in general. She'll hug you throughout the night and whisper sweet nothings into your ear as she plays with your hair, stroking your face delicately as if she could break you from the sheer simplicity of her touch. Expect nothing less than a heartfelt night of compliments and gentle kisses.

Thrill

There is a relatively large dosage of thrill within your relationship, and it's refreshing every time you pull a stupid little prank on a friend of either hers or yours. You always find yourselves even more desperately in love with each other somehow after having escaped the loser police… A.K.A. one of your raging friends.

Understanding

Sana understands that people clash, it's in every animal's survival instinct to fend for its own purposes- so if an argument ever does break out, Sana has learnt to reflect and learn for next time… right before she profusely apologies.

Vows

Sana vows to never hurt you, to bring you as much joy as she possibly can through the use of her bubbly personality and cutesy appearance. Sana knows the hold she has over you is powerful, and she'll use that to her advantage through the use of her promises.

Work

Sana loves it when you make little star appearances at her work place, whether that be you just coming to say "hi" during your free day, or dropping off something she forgot at home, or even the occasion where you bring her and her members bags full of food (always junk food and sweets). Obviously, Sana loves visiting your workplace too and hanging out with your small group of co-workers you know well enough to deem as "work pals." It just shows a sense of bond to Sana, and it warms her heart so, so much.

XOXO

Kisses and hugs- this is Sanas' love language, and she wants to share it with you as often as possible.

Youth

The youth of your relationship stems from the reliability of your almost crackhead selves. With your bursting energy combined, it's almost as if you're both toddlers that have mistakenly been put in a pair of adult bodies. Sometimes you wonder if there are babies wandering around in dresses and suits doing business…

Zany

As much as Sana swears by nose kisses and giggly hugs, she knows very well when to take a situation seriously when required. She's not a complete child.

[kassandrasdisciple]

~~~ batman CC spoilers ~~~

Honestly this is the best DC project in years and a return to everything that was good about the og animated series whilst including all the elements of DC cannon that have been created or expanded upon since.

Just a few of my favorite things:

- the SETTING, going back to the 40s noir vibe is a perfect choice, the fights are beautiful and not overcomplicated by gadgets and tech, also allows for some gratuitously beautiful shots that play with shadow.

- batman's age, I don't think Bruce is ever given an age in the show but he seems to be mid 20s early 30s and still an urban legend as the batman, we don't have to waste time with an origin episode/season but we still get to experience a Gotham who doesn't fully trust their vigilante.

- VILLIANS, for me the stand out was harley quinn, divorcing her from the joker allows her character to fully shine, she stays somewhere in the grey but still firmly an antagonist. It's one of the gripes I have with new harley that once she leaves the joker she always becomes more of an anti-hero/hero, keep my girl villainous. Also her psychological background is in full swing, I've always believed Harley is most dangerous when she's in your head and the show leans fully into it. Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss indeed.

- villians pt.2, keeping the theme of the animated series we have our villians for villainy antagonists like penguin and thorn who seem to live on in their counterparts, onomatopoeia and firebug, but we also get nuanced character arcs for 2-face, Natalia and clayface, echoing baby doll and calender woman.

- supporting cast, I'm only familiar with the comics in passing but if attorney Barbra is a new invention then whoever thought of it needs a raise. Also aging her up to be in her early 20s is an incredible change from the animated series where she floated around the freshly 18 mark. It makes her a hero in her own right even if she isn't batgirl (yet), and let's us see Gothams worst and how she's already fighting for change.

- Supporting cast pt.2, Montoya! My beloved, I'm not sure where her romance with harley is going but I can't wait, it's great to see such an archetypal noir cop, even more so than Jim, who speaking of I love as well, his want to protect the city but also butting heads with barbie on methods is perfect characterization in my option.

-baby bruce, horrifying, I love him. Alfred has personal beef with harley now, the second he saw an opportunity to throw that man in therapy she gives him valid paranoia of the entire profession just as he was thinking about trying it properly, I know it's on sight for him going forward.

- art, I've binged the animated series many times at this point and it's a running gag in the fandom that some frames are ... unique. Obviously the animators were working with what they had, but the step up in fight choreography and flow is spectacular, the whole show is a love letter to old batman with a new varnish of the animation productions of today.

Overall an amazing show that had me laugh and gasp in equal amounts, it took itself seriously in a way most superhero media won't do anymore, I distinctly thought in ep.9 when batman swings away from Montoya and Jim "wow they didn't put in a stupid snark about him being dramatic or having a nice ass ect" and it's like a breath of fresh air.

As far as nitpicks go I wished we had more of Bruce in isolation, or having real conversations, but I realize the focus of this season was his loneliness and how the final episode states he's opening up more to the 3 main supporting characters. I'm also worried for how important the joker might become but that's basically instinct at this point (please kill him off, i want to see the reactions).

Going forward I can't wait to see if we get any follow up on the Easter egg characters, killer croc, the 4 Robin's, king tut. I'd love to see the batman as a dad he's got a lot of kindness modern adaptations don't include, but still that overwhelmingly lonely nature. I'm hoping harley and the joker never cross paths in this universe but I won't hold my breath and I'd like to see if we will get a batgirl/oracle storyline as well.

Anyways looking forward to the confirmed second season, and if you read this without watching the show, start now.

[love-toxin]

Joker from persona 5 for the smut alphabet with a gn reader if i may ask lovely 🌹

ohhhhh u got me in a p5 mood babey!!!! <33

joker [akira kurusu] - (a-z)

(cws: gn!reader, various kinks, roleplay, very few minor spoilers, couple mentions of body insecurity, ambiguously post-canon, dirty talk, mild possessiveness, gags, a bit of public indecency.)

A = Aftercare

Such a cuddler. He's clinging to you before you've even caught up with that last big gasp your orgasm punched out of you, snuggled right up to your side with his arms around you to ease you back down from that near-unreachable high. He holds you so tight and so warm in his chest, squeezing you just hard enough not to hurt but to comfort--and as soon as you're calm enough for him to get up, he slips down into the cafe to make you some tea and fix you a little snack. He'll even run out to the grocery store down the alley if it's still open, if you ask him for something he doesn't have on hand. No gesture is too much work for his baby, and he's never too tired to do something that will make you smile.

B = Bondage

Tying you up? Yeah, he likes it--more than he should, he feels. It's kind of strange to think of himself as a kinky person, he feels a bit like a pervert in that sense, but the thrill he gets out of binding your arms back and leaving you helpless before him is totally undeniable. He likes that you can't cover your face to hide those pretty expressions he draws out of you, and he loves hearing you beg to touch him back with a blindfold snug over your eyes. You don't even know what you want, you can't tell where the pleasure's gonna come from next and you couldn't prepare for it even if you did--you just turn into a sweet, needy mess that just has to lay back and be worshipped, and what's not to like about that?

C = Cum

He cums a lot, much more than average, and he's pretty aware of it even though he's relatively inexperienced. It's potent and probably an effect of his persona's power since he never really noticed it before, but either way it just gushes out of him like a firehouse and it's pretty hard to control. He makes such a mess whenever he tries to pull out and shoot one out on your legs or your tummy, but your face is always a huge casualty too. It gets in your eyelashes, your hair, down your chin, your brows, just everywhere. He's like a one-man bukkake, and while it's something he's a little insecure about it's honestly impressive. It's pretty cute when he apologizes for it too, and blabbers on about how you just sounded and looked so adorable that he couldn't help himself...

D = Dirty Secret

If you were really insecure in the beginning of your relationship and had a hard time relaxing while doing the deed, Akira has gone into Mementos alone and searched out your shadow to see if he could help you from the inside out. His reassurances never seemed to go anywhere and since you always ended up feeling worse for not being able to just enjoy yourself (probably because of some insensitive comment from an ex or just self-esteem in general), he knew it had to be something deeper that maybe he could help you with. He really wasn't expecting your shadow self to spill your guts to him at the first sight of him without any battling necessary, and he also wasn't expecting that questionably hot dark version of you to paw at him and push him down to climb on top--but since it seemed to help you tremendously in real life, Akira secretly heads down to Mementos whenever you get stuck in a depressioned rut, and fucks that other self of yours stupid to remind the real you of how gorgeous and absolutely desirable he finds you.

E = Experience

Akira hasn't got too much experience with intimacy itself. He's rarely ever had crushes, even, up until he met you--and after you, he never found the same feelings welling up inside when he thought about anyone else. Before you dated and when he was in that phase of just crushing hard, he tried time and time again to turn his affections elsewhere so as to not ruin your precious friendship by confessing one-sidedly. But that only made him realize that you really were the only one for him, and he would never want anyone else except for you. How could anyone even try to measure up, let alone compare? You're just perfect.

F = Favourite Position

Missionary man all the way. He likes other positions but none feel as intimate to him, he likes the hitch of your legs around his waist and the untouchable closeness of being chest to chest and mouth to mouth as he makes love to you. Plus your hands on his back accelerate the experience for him, being surrounded by you and cushioned by your body and inside you all at once....it's a dream that he would never trade for anything. But of course, he's not entirely close-minded; he's definitely willing to experiment if his angel wishes for it to be so, he would be absolutely tickled pink to sit and listen to you talk with a hot face as you explain to him what you want him to do to you, how you want him to move you, and how you want him to take you.

G = Gloat

He's not really a mean kind of person (not unless it's directed towards someone who seriously deserves it) so it doesn't come out too much in the bedroom, or in any aspect of your relationship. But he does get possessive, and he has a habit of letting his stream of consciousness spill out in a murmur right next to your ear, all while he pins you where he wants you and gives you something to moan about. "Nobody gets to have you like this but me. You think I would ever give you away? No, precious. Never. You'd have to kill me before another man puts his hands on you, and even then they'd never take care of you as good as I do. Only I can make you cum the way you need."

H = Hair

He's just really not a hairy guy, he's got some bush and a bit on the undercarriage but he shaves it to the point that it's pretty sparse, but what he does have is quite dark and wiry. So if he ever did leave it untamed you'd be in for quite the jungle to cut through, but even so he'd at least trim it for you because he's a gentleman. And on the flipside, his inexperience means he doesn't know really know what to expect, so whatever you choose to do with your own hair is just what he assumes is normal. He has no business telling you to grow it or shave it, and he wouldn't because would it really make any difference? Your hair or lack thereof isn't what attracted him to you so it really doesn't have any bearing in the grand scheme of things.

I = Intoxication

Not much of a drinker, but if you have a night out with his friends from high school he can get quite clingy with a drink or two in him. Twirling a piece of your hair around his finger and mumbling in your ear about when you can go home, or just when you can find a place to sneak off--no, he's not too drunk, he can be quiet while you play with him. He promises. (Lie) His friends are definitely gonna hear you giving him brain in the bathroom at the bar, and it's gonna be quite the awkward situation to come back to with Akira's fumbling and his red cheeks and Ryuji laughing his ass off in a half-shocked half-congratulatory reaction.

K = Kiss

J = Jack off

Not a big self-pleasurer. Porn isn't really his thing, in video form or in magazines, and with his open-concept room he's quite aware of the lack of privacy that might compromise an unsuspecting visitor's image of him. Plus he's got a hard time controlling his volume. So if he does do it, he keeps it short and sweet, but when you're dating he usually just saves it for when you're over or you have a bit of time to sneak away for a rendezvous. You make him feel better than touching himself alone does anyways.

He's not a kissy person in a public setting, really he can barely hold your hand in public without getting flustered. But that shyness goes out the window the moment you're alone, when nobody's around to see it Akira could spend the rest of his life just planting soft, fluttering kisses all up and down your body. He especially likes to kiss your hands and your knuckles, and especially when he's buried inside you and looking down on that sweet face that makes him so, so happy. He'll just take your hand and bring it to his lips, squeezing your interlaced fingers and planting kisses on each knuckle until you're squirming and warm under the constant attention. He loves to feel you clenching down on him when he does that, it makes it feel even more special and so much more passionate.

L = Lazy

If he's too tired or if you feel like doing all the work, he's happy albeit a little shyer than usual to let you get on top and ride him. He tries to beg you to sit on his face instead, he doesn't want you to see how red he's gonna get and how pathetic he'll look when he gets to watch you....but he'll probably lose like he usually does against you, and you'll get to watch that pretty face contort in all sorts of ways as you bring him to his end faster and even harder than usual.

M = Marking

He'll leave some scratches and a few bruises here and there, but never anything too severe or sore. He does enjoy it when you drag your nails down his back though, he wants to see those raised streaks of red in the mirror the next morning and know that he fucked you good, good enough for some of them to bleed. It's an almost masochistic kind of pleasure that he's not sure of where it stems from, but he likes it and it makes him happy so it really doesn't matter all that much.

N = CNC

It's not something he's ever really considered, but he might enjoy playing out a scenario while he's donning his Joker costume. The masked hero taking his reward from an adorable victim who owes him their life....yeah, that's not a bad idea at all. Especially if you whimper out those little cries of "This is wrong, sir!" while you moan at the same time, that really revs some kind of desire he didn't know he had. He always ends up turning a little soft in the end and dropping the act when he's ready to cum--that's when he's so vulnerable that he just wants the affection of his angel and nothing else.

O = Oral

Again, pretty inexperienced in this avenue, but he really wants to practice and try it out to get better. He wants you to love having his head between your thighs, he wants to be known for it--he wants you to quiver when he suggests giving you head, and fold when he looks in your direction and makes a gesture that lets you know exactly where he wants to put his mouth. Having you grip his hair and hump his face because you can't get enough is his dream, and he's determined to make it a reality. Especially since you seem to be effortlessly good at it, either because he's extra sensitive or because you just know all the things he likes and every button to push to have him spurting ropes down your throat in minutes. He wants to get that same reaction out of you, he's got to.

P = Panties

Honestly he really likes the idea of fucking you while you're wearing his clothes. Or jerking him off with your hands donning his infamous gloves. But as far as underwear goes, he likes licking you over it and leaving a big wet patch from his spit in the fabric as you tremble and start messing it all up, especially when he pulls away and you just whine that he's a tease as you start touching yourself under it. It's such an easy way to have you looking all cute and clingy and staining your clothes like he's marking his territory.

Q = Quickie

You'd think he wouldn't be too fond of potentually exposing himself in public, but quickies are one of those things that he feels so dirty doing it actually leads him to doing it more. He's definitely humped your throat in an alleyway a couple times, and even let you ride him atop the ceiling of a palace or somewhere deep and hidden in Mementos while the others look for him. Mostly cause it's fun, but also because it really turns him on to think that you're needy enough that you'd urge him to do something so indecent that could get you both in so much trouble--and because he loves you, he simply has no choice but to satiate you when you need to be serviced. Ah, what a regrettable, yet unavoidable curse!

R = Risk

There's not much of a risk factor with him, he plays things pretty safe even when you're doing things in a bit of an impromptu manner. Teasing him about doing things a little more raw after you get married is a one-way ticket to flustering him though, and giving him the idea of not using a condom or not pulling out because you're completely devoted to each other....it's a dangerous thought. It's so intimate and you've only done that a couple times, so thinking about doing it all the time and leaving you leaking and full of his seed just shifts something around in his brain and makes him totally sensitive and shy until he gets it out of his system. Besides, a lot of that comes from you suggesting the two of you having a wedding and him being your husband--how is he supposed to react when that's his deepest desire and something he's already saving up for?

S = Spit

He likes having you clean his cock with your spit, and he gets unfathomably dirty with it if you let him run with it. Mutters on about how "You left my lap all sticky, go ahead and clean it up for me." with a hand perched in your hair. He sticks his fingers in your mouth and shifts them around like he's doing an inspection before he lets you lower your mouth to his dick, and it's all to have you salivating so your tongue's nice and wet when you move to lick your own cum off his glistening shaft. Make it as wet and sloppy as possible, and he'll reward those dripping, swollen lips with as many kisses you can handle--on both ends, no less.

T = Toys

Absolutely no idea what he's doing with them. If you explain to him that they help you get where you need to go, so to speak, then he'll be happy to explore them a little more with you. You'll have to introduce him slowly cause it intimidates him a little, especially if you're more familiar with them than he is--but once he gets a handle on them, he actually turns into kind of a pervert about it. He'll buy you something new that he wants to try together or just something he knows will make you cum really fast, and he always, always wants you to demo them for him. Show him how good you feel with them, won't you? He's gotta know if they work so he can take them back if they don't. Has to be a diligent customer, right? So don't be shy about telling him everything you're feeling when you touch yourself with it for him to watch.

V = Volume

U = Unfair

That quiet nature masks the biggest tease on earth, you could swear he's like another person when you're alone or when you're with his friends. From making dirty jokes to placing a well-timed hand on your thigh during a group conversation over dinner, Akira teases you like it's his day job and he always reaps the benefits as much as he pays the consequences. As possessive as he can get when he really gets into that mood, a plea from Yusuke to make a nude painting of you will get a burst of laughter out of your boyfriend, before he playfully jokes that he could stand in and describe you to him instead because he knows you inside and out. A playful shove and a chorus of giggles and lighthearted scolding from Ann for being a pervert later, and Akira will be on top of you in his bed with lust-filled eyes and a whispered promise that he'll never let someone else peek at you under your clothes. "That's all for me, isn't it sweetheart?"

He likes to think he's quiet but he's really not. You can hear him moaning from the bottom floor of Leblanc if he's touching himself while waiting for you to arrive, and you just have to thank the powers that be that he never does it while the café is open, lest he get the most embarrassing lecture from Sakura that would just burn him alive. Gagging him with your underwear or a hanky is really the only option if you want to take things elsewhere or if there's people around, or else bystanders are gonna get some pretty visceral descriptions about how hard Akira's gonna cum for you and exactly how soft and tight you are as you're squeezing his cock.

W = Wildcard

His favourite way to receive head is to be on top. It's weird, at least he thinks so, but he just really like the idea of straddling your shoulders, hunching over you to clutch a pillow in his arms above your head, and slowly rock his hips to plunge his cock down your throat in a steady rhythm. You can't move, can't get up, can't even speak in this position, all you can do is spit and choke and gag when he gives you a spare moment to breathe, but it's all at his command, all at his leisure. He likes the thought of possibly falling asleep while he's nestled so deep inside you, and pinning his hips to your poor face as you're forced to lay there and just suckle on it until he cums hard enough to wake up. It's quite the vulnerable position, but if you ever agreed to try it with him, he might just die out of pure adoration and worship you to the heavens.

X = X-Ray

Smooth and unblemished. It's mostly on the straight side with a bit of a curve down, and not too slim but he's got some heft packed on to the underside that makes it feel a lot heavier. The tip has a deeper ridge that you really feel when he first pushes in, deep enough that it catches when he pulls out too and makes it feel like he's suctioned tight inside you and can't pull out without some force. But that also makes it easier for him to plug you up with cum, and when he does unhitch himself, he always leaves it spilling out quickly and making a right mess all over your poor legs. His balls aren't huge or especially heavy, but they're shockingly soft and pretty smooth and almost artistic in the way they rest against your backside when he's nestled in deep inside you. Also very, very sensitive, and you can feel them twitch whenever he cums as they tighten up and then relax once his cum starts pumping out and easing the pressure. He mumbles about how dirty you are when you lick them because of how your head's positioned, but you both know he loves it and it makes him even cuddlier and needier with you after he cums.

Y = Yearning

Nothing turns him on like you calling him your hero. Teasingly or seriously, it stirs something inside him that can't be ignored--he promises to be your hero always, to do the right thing and to rescue you whenever you need saving, wherever either of you may be. But it's a little more flustering when he makes those promises with a husky voice by your ear and his cock straining his pants, cause you'll know exactly what he means when he asks if, as your hero, he might have a reward from his helpless, darling little civilian that owes him their life.

Z = Zzz

He prefers to sleep through the night but he doesn't fall asleep too quickly after sex, although it's a different story if you wake up next to him and notice him humping his pillow or the sheets--or your leg, if he's situated just right. Sometimes he's awake and just didn't want to wake you, and sometimes he's asleep and just having a really good dream. Either way, you have full and expressed consent to hump him right back if you want to, or just push your pajama bottoms down and let your boyfriend sleepily push his cock inside to keep it warm. He'll try his best not to cum, but no promises, okay?

[riversimmone]

Reason to Breathe

.

Reason To Breathe

RiverOfTheSand

Summary:

AU GaaSaku. The train stopped suddenly and she fell into his arms. Her panic had disappeared, only to be replaced by a far more pleasant sensation; and she was falling all over again.

Notes:

This one-shot is a result of a dare after a conversation a while back about how much I love the pairing, and this idea came from a song, surprise, surprise. It's Longer by Delta Goodrem. God, I love Delta's music – old and new. :) Anyway, I know the Tokyo Rails are a lot busier than I've indicated here. But for the purposes of this fic, it's only crazy in the morning (during the normal rush hour). Rated T. I hope you all enjoy. :)

There was nothing like doing something she hated only to find a reason to love it. The contradictory sentiments were like a breath of fresh air, and Kami knew, she needed something to shake up the funk she'd been in since moving to Tokyo. City streets, neon lights… the night before her first day at work was like any other. She arrived at her new apartment, annoyed at the blonde who'd almost driven them into a ditch on the highway. Ino Yamanaka was a hell cat behind the wheel, and had no regrets, the under worked, over paid bitch.

This was how Sakura Haruno had found herself forced to take the train.

There was something to be said for stepping outside of her comfort zone – when it went bad, she could strangle that blonde bimbo calling herself her best friend, guilt free. She was already imagining what it would feel like to have her hands locking around Ino's throat and squeezing.

And what was it exactly that she'd found herself loving? That first day on the subway, and the months that followed. She'd imagined the boredom of the railway would induce a stupor and on her first day, she'd either be hyperventilating or asleep when her station drew alongside the locomotive. Sakura imagined that once she'd woken up (or calmed down), nothing and no-one could make her get back on that train.

Ino was always telling her she had no imagination.

The first day started out as expected (due mostly to her preconceptions), but it did get better... and in the most delicious way possible – in the form of an "on sight" crush. She didn't know how else to describe the reaction she'd had to him. But, first things first, her first impression of the underground train station had been a bad one. And to make matters worse, the idea of taking the subway had always made her want to gag. It wasn't like there was smog or the stench of human waste – no, the subway of Greater Japan was immaculate and blah, blah, blah… no, the sensation of wanting to heave up her breakfast came from knowing she would be stuck in rush hour and forced to stand close to other people. It made her as uncomfortable as having to avoid eye contact with the multitude of people who would stare at her.

The dark haired people milling about her blended right in, but she didn't; Kami knew why she just had to have natural pink hair. Sakura had dyed it, crimped it, cut it, and curled it so many times that her doctor told her not to do it anymore. She'd spent her whole life hiding from the abnormality that was her.

'One more time and you'll be poisoning yourself, at least more than you already have.'

Wishing she was still living in Konoha (where the easiest way to get around didn't involve bunching up in the scorching heat and pretending she wasn't inhaling someone else's body odour), Sakura stared at the ticket vending machine; the stupid thing wouldn't accept her ¥2,000 bill. Glaring wouldn't change anything, no matter how much venom she put into it. She'd never taken the train before today, so just decided on a Tokyo Metro One-Day Pass for this one time; it couldn't hurt, right? She'd only be taking the train twice – to and from work – so it was probably a waste, but right now, she didn't care.

Sulkily retrieving her ticket, Sakura made her way through the Fare Gate, waited at the platform, and let out a disgruntled sigh at the sight of the incoming Tokyo Metro ‒ this was the Marunouchi Line. She hated it already. But she'd started a new job that required an earlier arrival time – the rapid transit of the underground subway was her only option other than waking up at two o'clock in the morning and walking for hours.

The morning rush hour was killing her – the women-only car she was told she could take, was completely full. Sakura had the choice between waiting for the next train (that would make her late to work) and boarding one of the normal cars. Since there were other women in said cars, she felt comfortable enough to risk it this one time.

But the staring was grating on her nerves. Most of the passengers were men in suits, and she found it incredibly intimidating – she was wearing her uniform already, a dark blue vest over her white blouse and knee length pleated skirt. She felt self-conscious, since the only other women in the car were dressed more formally (pants, whatever – it was smart and unlike her clothes, fit like a glove). She was out of sorts in this kind of environment.

At the first stop, when the doors opened, she realised she was going to have to stand up. The woman waddling toward her was the epitome of what Sakura disliked – someone or something she felt obligated to think of over herself. But she stood, stepped aside, and offered her seat. It was the proper thing to do after all. Shifting away from the courtesy seat, Sakura responded to the grateful "thank-you" with a "you're welcome" from the heavily pregnant woman. She tried to weave her way through the mass of bodies and away from the end of the car; she was instead immediately blocked by the arrival of more men in suits. She felt stifled, panic rising up in her chest, and quickly closed her eyes.

'Focus, Sakura – it's just a train ride. No-one here is going to rub themselves up against you or leer inappropriately.'

She hated crowds.

The train jerked, and she snapped her eyes open as it moved. One of the men who'd stepped in front of her was now staring at her. He wasn't leering, but there was a sort of sympathy in his eyes – the kindness in the soft green colour drew her attention first. Then her eyes flickered upwards and she realised the man had short, dark red hair. He stood out as much as she did, it would seem, but no-one was staring at him.

She was lost for words, a blush appearing on her cheeks as he continued to stare at her. While the other passengers gawked at her hair or occasionally spared her a curious glance, his eyes were set firmly on hers.

'Oh god, oh Kami…'

Time seemed to stand still and she was captivated. Sakura flagrantly stared back at him, her hand moving to the metal pole he was clinging to as she moved instinctively closer to him. He held tightly to said pole, barely moving as the train came to a stop. It was another station – Sakura hadn't realised it, but she'd been staring at this mystery man for almost twenty minutes – how many times had they stopped and then started again?

Blush lined her cheeks at this realisation, but she didn't look away; she couldn't. The expression on his face was guarded, so she wasn't sure if this man was checking her out or just rude. Finally opening her mouth to say something, she was cut off by the sudden motion of the train; she stumbled forward and his free hand came up to stop her fall. He caught her, his arm slinging around her shoulder; she inhaled deeply, his very masculine scent making her tremble.

"Th-thanks…" She muttered, pulling away from him.

She decided to interpret this as a sign to stop talking – etiquette on board subway trains in Japan demanded they didn't anyway – she'd read it in a book. But it was disappointing; she wanted to know his name, among other things.

He smiled at her – it was brilliant, the way it lit up his face and seemed to highlight a light shade of pink along his cheeks. She wasn't the only one so taken, it seemed. Sakura smiled back, trying to ease the nervousness flitting about her stomach; the butterflies had become acrobats instantly, doing things she'd never thought possible. It seemed to show on her face because the red head was smirking now; his free hand moved from her shoulder to her elbow and clung tightly. He wasn't making some sleazy move on her, but his face was smug nonetheless.

Arrogant might be a better word.

They continued to stare at each other, though Sakura tried desperately to look away from him. The last thing she needed was to be near another man that took pleasure in her discomfort. She inhaled deeply, keeping the station number of every stop in her peripherals, and making no move to relieve herself of this man's grip. His hand felt oddly comforting against her bare skin (the sleeves of her blouse didn't quite make it to her elbows), and he was at least distracting her from her panic of being so surrounded.

The ride to the Shinjuku-Sanchōme Station came too soon, and she reluctantly moved toward the exit. She didn't realise at first, lost in her reverie, that the red haired man was following her. She'd never been so taken by someone like this before, and she supposed his good looks helped. But it also made her wary. She looked back after disembarking, only to find him barely a foot away from her, before turning to face him.

"I'm Gaara," he said, his voice husky and making her tremble.

"S-Sakura," she stammered and mentally slapped herself.

His head jerked to the side suddenly and something must have caught his attention – she didn't look, wanting him to keep talking. But Gaara was already moving away.

"See you later," he said, and she missed the strained hope in his voice.

Sakura nodded. "Yeah."

The rest of the day went by slowly, like Kami was trying to torture her. Her new job entailed data entry as well as organising – the latter would broaden to company fundraisers and the such after she passed the one month mark of working here. But despite the tedium, Sakura didn't mind it – sorting things into their proper place was like second nature to her anyway. She wondered if Gaara had been heading to work, despite the sleek business suit he'd been wearing. It was obvious, but for all she knew, he'd been heading to a funeral, or some early morning… function… or whatever.

"Blaargh!" She pulled a face at the so-called cuisine when lunch rolled around. It was slop: nothing more and nothing less. It would be worth it to spend most of her lunch time looking for a decent food court outside of the cafeteria at work.

And again, her thoughts drifted to Gaara.

"I think I'm getting obsessed."

She needed to stop these thoughts – chances were that she'd never see Gaara again. That was a depressing commentary and worse than her musing on what he was doing and thinking ‒ and whether or not he was thinking about her. Ino was going to make fun of her for it, and the pinkette had no-one else to confide in, so she steeled herself for the inevitable questions and judgements as she clocked out. The walk back to the station was numbing, and she didn't realise at first, as she moved toward the women-only car, that Gaara was there again.

His hand shot out, grabbing her elbow again; she let out a small yelp as he steered her away from the car he wasn't allowed in. She spun with Gaara's rough pull and realised then that he had started to tug her down into a seat. She made a small hiccupping sound on contact with the seat and he chuckled.

For a moment, she didn't know what to say or do, but then her anger took over.

"There was no need for that," she snapped, pointing a finger in his face.

"I disagree," he waved her hand away, clearly enjoying himself. "I wouldn't have had anyone to talk to if you'd made it into the women-only car."

"You're not supposed to be talking," she reminded him, pointing up at the sign above her head ‒ an ever present reminder of what was referred to as subway manners.

He smirked. "That's only for your phone, princess." She went red and he chuckled. "You're new to public transport."

She nodded, even though it hadn't sounded like a question, and then lowered her head in embarrassment. But he hadn't talked to her this morning – and come to think of it, none of the other passengers had said a word either.

"They're so boring," he said, when she brought it up. "And I'm fascinating."

She groaned. "Are you always this obnoxious?"

"No."

"Really?" Somehow she doubted that.

That smirk was still on his face. "I'm worse."

"Oh, so you don't normally talk to random strangers?"

"I do not," he agreed softly. "I'm not really a people person."

The cheek was gone from his voice suddenly, and Sakura decided this was the perfect opportunity to get some serious answers out of him.

"So, you ride the Tokyo Metro often?"

Gaara let out a soft chuckle. "No, not really."

"Oh?"

"I don't like public transport."

She smiled. "Me neither."

"What about you?" He asked. "You come here often?"

That made her blush, and she bit her bottom lip to keep it from trembling. "No, but I'm stuck here anyway."

And the next thing she knew, he was prying things out of her – the first of which was what she did for a living.

"You're a sorter?"

She frowned at the smirk on his face. "No," she snapped. "I organise – there's a difference."

"Oh, I see."

Sakura just shook her head in frustration at the cheek in his voice, glancing toward the windows before settling on the red head again. He lost the cheek as he told her about himself.

Gaara had just arrived in Tokyo as well, and would only be here for three months, looking after some subsidiary in his father's business – he refused to elaborate. Sakura told him about having to move to Tokyo after a bad breakup; she'd let her best friend tag along, but the woman was grating on her nerves. The pinkette wanted to go to work, make friends, and come home to a clean apartment. The blonde wanted to go out, party, do drugs and drink past her limit, then come home and make a mess of the lounge room with some random guy she'd found at a night club.

Before Sakura knew it, she'd been riding the train to and from work for two and a half months. It was nearing Gaara's return to Suna and despite her smiles and jokes, the thought of him leaving was upsetting her. Another week rolled by and he finally noticed the hesitance in her smile.

"I'm going to have to keep you, you know," he said, sounding serious.

It made her smile and she stole a look at him as they walked out of the underground station. It was dark, but the streets were lit, and Gaara stopped at the top of the escalators, just short of the door leading outside.

"Really?"

He nodded. Gaara pushed her gently, and caged her between his body and the wall behind her. His eyes were calculating, thoughtful and minutely wary. He was considering doing or saying something – a scary something perhaps. His façade of controlled emotions had become a transparent mask to her since their first meeting. He kept his guard up by default because it was the only way he'd survived in the ruthless world of business his father had introduced him to from a young age. It was apparently also why he had so few friends. He was considered quite ruthless himself.

Finally, Gaara seemed to come to a decision. "Can I kiss you?"

Sakura nodded silently, not hesitating; she'd wanted him to the moment they'd met. Gaara licked his lips and lowered his mouth to hers. It was chaste, which was fine and all, but she wanted more. So she drew her tongue across his mouth, making them both tremble, before he obliged her. Pushed up against cold hard concrete, Sakura was suddenly burning. Her arms encircled his neck and he growled softly into her mouth, pressing into her.

They weren't lovers, they weren't even dating, but she felt like they were. She'd never had such a strong connection with anyone before, male or female. This was what her mother had told her about growing up, what all those fairy-tales had had her dreaming about. And she didn't want to let it get away: not now, not ever.

Gaara was the one to break the kiss, and rested his forehead against hers as he struggled for breath. His face was flushed and she felt excited at the way she was making him feel. Sakura took a moment also, but it was getting late, and they both knew this wasn't the end after all.

"See you tomorrow?" She asked, still slightly breathless.

He gave her a playful smile. "I'll be there."

Sakura walked away, glancing back as she always did, to see him doing the same. Tomorrow they'd do this all over again, and she knew that somehow, things would work out. After all, he'd said he would be there. The next morning, she was happier than she'd been in years, humming as she took a rare seat, looking forward to the next train stop, where the red head would emerge from. She sat up straight as the train pulled into the stop, her eyes instinctively searching for Gaara.

He wasn't there.

– Reason to Breathe –

Sakura had no idea what'd gone wrong. He'd seemed so sincere, like he really was looking forward to seeing her again. He had another week before he was expected back in Suna, so why would he just flake like that? She couldn't understand it.

Ino told her to stop being a drama queen. "Men do that sweetie – don't take it personally. Besides, if he really is as good looking as you say he is, he's probably married, and with like a dozen mistresses."

But the blonde didn't know him, she'd never met him; and despite the alarming level of arseholes out there, not all men were flakes! At least, not so soon after meeting a woman – sure, they'd kissed, but they hadn't had sex, which was the only thing the real lowlifes stuck around for after all. It made no sense.

This left a gut wrenching ache in her heart and she couldn't stop the onslaught of tears. She felt so stupid, so pathetic; why was this happening?

Once she'd calmed down, Sakura decided: she ignored Ino's disgusted comments and refused to go out clubbing to forget Gaara like the blonde "suggested". She went to work, taking the same route, the same time, and hoping against hope that the red head would appear after all, with some reasonable excuse. Embarrassed by her own fears, she waited past the point in which Gaara had said he'd be heading back to Suna before trying to think about how she'd track him down.

What did she know about him? He was from Suna, was the same age as her – twenty-two – and his mother was some kind of philanthropist. He was the youngest of three – not much help there – and the only one of them working in the family business – even less help. Sakura chewed on the end of her pencil as she tried to remember more. She was sitting at the desk in her bedroom, wearing only a pair of boy-shorts and small tank top; completing the ensemble was her fluffy purple slippers. She didn't own lingerie, much to Ino's chagrin.

She finished writing out the list and turned on her laptop – if she was going to find him, it wasn't by door knocking or going back to the train station. No matter what his reasons were, it was clear he wouldn't be going back there now. She needed a new place to look. The problem was, she only knew his given name. She searched the business tycoons in Suna, but none of them had a red haired son. Then she remembered his mother and added "philanthropist" to the advanced search.

Suna had a reputation for its seedy underground – and corrupted officials – so what were the chances that there were many wives of entrepreneurs that spent their time giving instead of taking?

Apparently, there were four.

The first one that came up was actually a widow and had only daughters –strike her off the list. The second had twelve children, something like fifty grandchildren, and looked like a harridan with boils.

'Eew.'

The third looked a little better; she had three children, her husband was a stock broker. It looked promising.

"Asuka Hashimoto."

Sakura murmured the name a few times. It sounded strange – why did it sound strange? The woman fitted the bill, but somehow she doubted Gaara's mother had been married three times. She settled on the last one – Karura Sabaku – the name rolling off her tongue easy. She followed the links until she found what she was looking for: a family picture taken at some official reception that couldn't be more than two years old. And there he was, looking out of sorts, even though he was looking straight at the camera. He wasn't smiling, but the sight of him all dressed up got Sakura's heart beating faster, and she scanned the comments, made by some reporter. She sounded like a fan too, which made Sakura wonder: was Gaara more popular than he realised? During their conversations, he'd sounded like a lost child when talking about his social life.

She gazed for a moment, before shaking herself of these thoughts.

Gaara was listed, which made it easier – he probably kept that number for emergencies and such. She couldn't imagine him giving it out on a whim.

Sakura spent twenty minutes just staring down at her phone after she'd punched in the number. Now that she was here, she was terrified ‒ what if he'd decided she was just a stupid little girl and had moved on? She felt like some overbearing fan girl who wanted to know why he didn't respond to her last three hundred emails.

'God damn it.'

She needed to get a grip, buck up, and just press that freaking button! She did it before any more pessimistic thoughts could take her over and was relieved when it started to ring. But good Kami he was taking his sweet time in answering. The click on the other end almost unhinged Sakura, and she inhaled sharply at the sound of a feminine voice.

"You've reached Gaara Sabaku's phone: start talking or I'm hanging up."

A slight cheek in her voice reminded Sakura of Gaara, somehow. But she struggled to speak, at a loss for what to say – she was expecting Gaara, not some random girl.

"Who is this?" The woman asked, now slightly irritated.

"My name is Sakura Haruno," Sakura managed, with great difficulty. Who was this woman that had answered Gaara's phone?

"Really?"

"Why is that so surprising?" Really, who was this woman?

"No reason – I'm just calculating how much money Kankuro owes me."

Huh?

"Can I talk to Gaara?"

"Sorry, no can do."

"W-why?"

The woman hesitated – Sakura could hear some whispering in the background and a shuffling that sounded like she was moving the phone from one ear to the other. Finally, the woman on the other end of this conversation gave her an answer:

"He's in a coma."

– Reason to Breathe –

'She shouldn't have told me that on the phone.'

Sakura had spent the ride to the hospital a jittery mess. Not only was she nervous to meet the woman who claimed to be Gaara's big sister, but she was terrified of seeing Gaara. A part of her hoped this was some elaborate prank, while the rest of her knew better: there was no faking the concern in Temari's voice during that thirty minute conversation. The woman really knew how to talk – she'd give Ino a run for her money, that was for sure.

She almost didn't leave the back of the taxi, only depositing the yen in the man's hand after he'd gotten irate at her. She ignored his continuing scowls and slammed the door shut, not caring that she'd been rude. She found the right room and signed in the visitor's book before knocking on the door. It opened almost immediately by some random nurse who spared her a glance (her eyes went to her hair) before moving on. Sakura peered into the room.

"Sakura?" The woman called Temari waved Sakura over, and the pinkette entered quickly. She was still apprehensive, but her concern for Gaara took precedence. He looked like death warmed up.

"The doctors say he could wake up at any time," Temari said soothingly, as Sakura took the offered chair next to the bed; the blonde's hand went to her shoulder in a reassuring gesture.

"What happened?"

"After he left the station, he was mugged and left for dead," Temari said.

"Right after?"

"You saw him leave okay, right?"

Sakura nodded.

"I'm sorry," Temari said. "I should've tried to find you, but‒"

"You don't have to explain," Sakura interrupted. "We're strangers."

She gripped the pleats of her skirt tightly as she struggled not to cry, while unable to tear her eyes away from the unconscious red head. He looked like he was sleeping, except for the fact that he was hooked up to a bunch of monitors. She'd almost gone into medicine, so she knew the chances of him waking up got worse the longer he was unconscious. It was cruel, that she'd worried so thoroughly over him only to find him in this state. She'd prefer if he'd just decided she wasn't worth it. At least he wouldn't be in the hospital.

Sakura was a mess, and it showed, with or without the tears. She looked over at Temari as the woman moved to sit on the bed and faced her. The blonde had the same sympathetic look Gaara had given her that first day on the train, and before she could stop herself, Sakura let out an involuntary sob. Temari embraced her as she cried. It was so crazy, but she just let herself go, not caring that she barely knew Gaara, and that she'd only just met his sister.

But eventually, Temari's soothing words calmed her and Sakura pulled away. The older woman fetched a tissue from the other side of the hospital bed and handed it to her.

"God I'm so stupid." Sakura dabbed at her eyes with the tissue. "It's pathetic; I mean, I don't even know him, not really."

"It's not stupid, or pathetic," Temari assured her. "Just strange; I knew Gaara had a thing for you – the way he'd go on about you was proof enough. It's just nice to know it wasn't only one way."

"He's going to wake up," Sakura said quickly. "He has to."

"That's what I keep telling myself."

Sakura's response was interrupted when the door to the room opened (weird, she didn't remember closing it) and the guy standing in the threshold gave her the strangest look.

"Kankuro," Temari said. "This is Sakura. Sakura, this is Kankuro, my other brother."

Sakura greeted him politely, but he just gaped at her.

"Kankuro," Temari said warningly.

He shut his mouth. "Uh, I was just surprised." He frowned at his sister. "I thought she wasn't real."

"You thought Gaara was making her up!" Temari snapped.

Sakura ignored the siblings, shifting closer to the bed. "Gaara," she whispered. "Please wake up." She licked her lips, debating on whether or not to touch him. She'd heard that in even in comas, people could still hear you.

'What about touch?'

So she took his hand, interlocking their fingers and reaching out with her free hand to caress the weird kanji on his forehead, before shifting to move some strands of hair out of his eyes. Sakura didn't notice that Temari and Kankuro had stopped arguing to see what she was doing. She didn't hear them leave quietly, and completely forgot that they'd been there in the first place. She climbed onto the bed and hovered over him, sitting next to him; Gaara didn't respond of course, but she was watching for it anyway.

"Don't you dare," she said forcefully. "I haven't come looking for you just to watch you die."

When she'd told her mother about Gaara, the woman was ecstatic – she had been harping on at her for about four years, wanting grandchildren out of her. But it was the fairy-tales from her childhood that made Sakura bend over and kiss him softly: her own lips quivering slightly at the warmth of his skin. He wasn't cold to the touch, like she'd worried he would be.

Nothing happened.

Sighing deeply, Sakura attempted to get comfortable, not caring that when his nurse came back in, she would be in for a rude awakening. As she drifted off, exhausted from the last few days of worrying herself sick, she felt Gaara move. He shifted under her, the croaky sound of him saying her name bringing a smile to her lips. He was finally awake.

An hour later, Temari and Kankuro returned, armed with caffeine, fast food and a basket full of goodies, intent on an in-room picnic. But when they saw Sakura tucked up in the hospital bed, her arm strapped over Gaara, and her face nuzzled in his chest, they couldn't bring themselves to disturb her.

Neither of them noticed that the pale green eyes of their little brother watched their exit. Gaara had fallen asleep after waking up with Sakura getting comfortable on top of him; he'd woken up several times in the middle of the night to find the strangely intriguing pink haired girl he'd been dreaming about still sleeping with him. He tucked her in closer to his side and smiled.

It was worth getting mugged and almost dying to wake up like this. This was heaven to him.

X X X

[droughtofapathy]

"Welcome to the Theatre": Diary of a Broadway Baby

Death Becomes Her

November 20, 2024 | Broadway | Lunt-Fontanne Theatre | Matinee | Musical | 2H 30M

As a self-proclaimed pretentious highbrow theatre snob, I'm here to tell you that this show is a really fun time. The two leading ladies were born for this high-glam kind of camp and chew the scenery so much it's a wonder there's anything left by curtain. The have the audience eating out of the palms of their hands and cradled against their massive bosoms. The show's technical aspects are a sight to behold. The way they pull off the illusions and stage effects need to be documented and shared with the rest of us. With a $31M capitalization, it shows on that stage, and especially with the extraordinary costume design. The physical gags are a balanced blend of impressive and hysterically slapstick. It is non-stop entertainment, and I'm just so happy that the design commands attention. Bring back maximalism. The book is also a hoot, and serves the (ridiculous and rather stupid) plot well with some fun and filthy lines that most of the cast delivers to perfection. This is a show that doesn't try to be anything more than what it is: zany, screwball, campy fun.

The weakest part is the score. It's immemorable, to say the least, and while it's serviceable to the show's purpose, it doesn't have the same maniacal zing to match the book and the performances. The songs move the story along, but without much momentum within each one. One of the strongest (Madeline's Act One tour-de-force "I Do It for the Gaze") is largely as impressive as it is because of its madcap staging and almost half a dozen costume quick changes. These include some divine send-ups. Unfortunately, the rest of the score fails to capture that same energy again. Act one is decidedly stronger, and while the beginning of act two and its special effects showcase is a marvel to watch, the story sort of meanders after that. The ending seems atonal to the rest of the show's bonkers mood.

With her classical training very evident, Megan Hilty does the most with the score as it is. Most of the lyrics follow a basic AB rhyme scheme devoid of any clever wordplay that would have elevated this fun show into the stratosphere. We're never getting another Sondheim. I need to start lowering the bar. Not that the lyrics matter much anyway. The show's mixing is far more successful than its previous tenant and even in the rear mezzanine the vocals aren't fully drowned out by the orchestra. But, whether it's an issue of diction or balancing, some of the lines end up garbled. I love Jennifer Simard. I think she's bringing a level of genius to Helen in a role that otherwise does get overshadowed by the Madeline track. She has the kind of go-for-broke unhinged comedy chops seen in just a select few these days, right up there with Katie Finneran and Andrea Martin. But in her big belty lines, she does tend to blend the lyrics. It's nowhere near Patti LuPone "Buenos Aires" levels, but I'd like to see more diction.

Otherwise, it's Michelle Williams as Viola who doesn't rise to the occasion. While everyone else seems to be throwing themselves fully into the batshit tone of the piece, she's stiff and doesn't match the absurd evilness you need for the part. A small part of the problem is that many of her costumes are difficult to navigate in. Her opening outfit is untraversable. But her few dialogue bits she's been allowed to keep are rough. She's not an actress. And her singing is hit-or-miss throughout. Sometimes it sounds great, but often it's flat and off-key. This is a part that needs a veteran character actress to lean into the feral fun of it all. It would have been great for Vanessa Williams ten or fifteen years ago. Should the show keep on keeping on for a little while, I hope they get a more appropriate replacement. I won't hold my breath.

All this to say, it's a great time. We need a break and this is a hell of an escape. They've been playing to packed houses throughout previews, and it opens tonight. Grosses are around a million weekly, and they need to maintain it to stay afloat, and rocket up to really start to see profits trickle in. It's expensive to look this good.

Verdict: Why I Love the Theatre

A Note on Ratings

[marinerainbow]

//Crying at "between the man who writes his checks and the woman who lets him touch her boobs his hands are tied" 😆

Does she...have...? Idk how anthro toon relationship dynamics work in this world, the more I think about it the stranger it becomes 😂

Shiny has the absaloute leverage over him.

Greasy: No! Olvidalo! I won't do it!

Shiny: Ohhhh baby, pleeease?

Greasy: gulps But Mi Amor, the only thing I have left to lose is my dignity!

Shiny: Then what are you worried about Green Bean? backs him against a wall Come ooon Tiger, I'll let you play later. scratches nails under his chin.

Greasy: cracks ALRIGHT I GIVE IN!

He does whatever embarrassing or stupid thing is asked of him for the mere prospect that she might pepper his face wigt lipstick kisses.

SHINY WOULD ABSOLUTELY TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THAT! She knows Greasy's weakness too well 😅😆😅😆

Hm... Well, the only canon female weasel from the comics does have boobs (I'm sorry I just love that word XD it's just funny to me to say). But Winnie Weasel is also more humanoid than any other weasel in the WFRR universe... Which is a nice way of saying that she looks like a furry joined the animation team and this was his way of coping with his inner turmoil in a society where suxuality was still hush-hush and everything was wrong unless it was hetero-vanilla.

Who would have thought that giving a weasel long limbs and batfish lips would have instantly turned her into a disgrace.

But Shiny, on the other hand, she doesn't have that body type. She's the same height as the Toon Patrol, and posses the iconic short legs long body look they have too. I'm not quite sure how boobs would look/work on that body type. Maybe Shiny just uses hair conditioner to make her chest fur extra fluffy?? (The book Who Censored Roger Rabbit had Hare Conditioner for rabbit characters. I'm pretty certain Toontown would have a specific bran of conditioner that makes your hair fluffier than normal. But Shiny also has fluffy head fur that she styles like hair too, so that could be a part of it too)

One of the gags I can see Shiny doing is something akin to the 'trenchcoat' gag. Like, maybe the guys have to distract Greasy for some reason, and Shiny knows it (because this is one of her 'arrested by the TP' times and she's under house arrest)

Shiny: *rolls her eyes. Tosses her toast on the plate* You guys are trying way too hard.

Smartass: Oh, and you're one 'ta talk? You haven't done jack!

Shiny: Because I've been waiting for you dummies to stop and realize. But you clearly aren't gonna, so-

Greasy: *storms into the room* ¡Eso es todo! ¡Hijos de puta será mejor que me cuenten qué está pasando ahora!

Shiny: 🙄 *calmly walks right up to her boyfriend* Ey, Devil.

Greasy: Que???

Shiny: *unbuttons and rips open her shirt- conveniently out of sight from the rest of the Toon Patrol and audience*

Greasy: 😳😳😳😳😳

Weasels: !?!?!?

Shiny, cooly rebuttoning her shirt before turning towards the TP: I bought you an hour. Spend it wisely. *walks away*

Greasy, looking like he just saw the gates of Heaven: *chases after Shiny* Mí Vida! Come back! You can't leave me like this!!!

Weasels:

As you can see, for Shiny, this leaves a mystery of what she has under her shirt. Does she have the femine feature that Greasy is so mad about? Or is it just fur and Greasy is just happy to see any woman naked? The world may never know XD

[etherealzx]

Aaand it's me part 2 ahaha

Okayokay so maybe an nsfw for la squadra where the reader just keeps teasing them all day, and so when they get home y'know, a classic ajsjsj (and I would love if reader and the la squadra members are already in an eatabilished relationship by the way) thank you so so much :)

i'm living for the la squadra thirst 😍 i'm thirsty for all of them

also sorry that some of these are longer than others oops

Teasing Them (La Squadra x Fem!Reader)NSFW!

warnings: nsfw and sexual content below the cut!

☆ Risotto ☆

You had been getting on his last nerve all day. Even despite his calm and collected demeanor, you could tell he was starting to get annoyed

All day while the two of you had been out running errands, you had been teasing him. You had been doing everything you could to get him worked up, rubbing circles in his thigh, bending down to pick things up in front of him, and making suggestive comments

He's not stupid, he knew exactly what you were trying to do. Right now he may be acting nonchalant, but he had your whole punishment planned out for when you got home

As soon as you walked in the door of the base and shut it behind you, he grabbed your throat and slammed you against the door

"You've been teasing me all day, puttana. Don't think I didn't notice. I'm gonna give you exactly what you've been begging for all day. On your knees, now." He growled, making the heat pool between your legs

He fucks your face hard, with the force of all the pent up aggression that had been building up all day

He loves to see your tears rolling down your cheeks and hear you gagging on his cock. To him, it's the perfect punishment for teasing him all day

☆ Prosciutto ☆

You were driving him insane. All he wanted was for you to be patient while he tried to get some work done, and you couldn't even do that.

He had been sitting at his desk in his office, trying to work on some paperwork for Risotto, until you decided to come in and interrupt

Normally he didn't mind if you sat in the room quietly while he worked. He actually enjoyed the company. But today was different. You had walked in the office wearing some very skimpy lounge shorts, trying to distract him

You had been leaning all over his desk and giving him those puppy-dog eyes, and although he usually found the sight adorable, right now it was getting on his nerves. He had very important work to do!

"Tesoro, what have I told you about bothering me while I'm working?" he says gently, yet sternly.

"Babyyyyy, can't you just take a break real quick?" You whine, making him even more irritated

"On your knees. Now." He growls, pointing underneath his desk. You quickly follow his instructions

"Damn slut. Can't even wait for me to be done with my work. Now you're gonna stay down there with my cock in your mouth until I'm finished." He spat while he unzipped his trousers and pulled out his already hard cock

He warns you not to touch yourself while you suck him off either, or else you're really gonna get punished

He keeps you down there for at least an hour before he's done

He's a man of his word, and you learn that pretty quickly

☆ Formaggio ☆

The two of you were on a mission together, hunting down a stand user from a rival gang

Since you had been spying on this person, it was critical that you stay quiet and not be seen

You knew the mission was serious, but your boyfriend just looked so good today. I mean he always looked good, but today there was just something different

You couldn't help yourself from touching him any chance you got. Grabbing onto his arm, climbing into his lap, and running your hands all over his chest

"Babe, what's gotten into you today?" He asked when you gave a particularly intimate kiss to his neck

Normally he would love you acting like this, but right now just wasn't the time. You two were on important business, it was no time to be messing around. Not to mention, the two of you had already been warned by Risotto about being too distracted when you went on missions together.

"y/n, baby, I love you but this is gonna have to wait till later. We could seriously get killed if we're not careful here." He said sternly.

You knew he was right but you still couldn't help yourself, continuing your comments and touches

You could tell he was getting irritated

"Babe, I told you to wait. This is important," He said, grabbing your wrist tightly.

He was getting so annoyed because you were really turning him on. He wanted to finish the mission successfully and make it back with a good report to his capo, and you were making it so hard for him

Eventually, he couldn't take it anymore and snapped

His grip on your wrist tightened, and he dragged you into an alleyway

"You wanna act like a slut? Then you'll get treated like one." He picks you up and slams your back against the brick wall

He moves your panties to the side, and fucks you hard, taking out all of the day's frustrations out on you.

"I better not hear a single peep out of you." He growls, slapping his hand over your mouth to silence your pitiful moans and whimpers while he fucks you

☆ Ghiaccio ☆

He hated when you got all needy like this

Well, he secretly liked it, but it got on his nerves when you acted like this around the other la squadra members

You had all been in the main lounge-area of the base, watching a movie together

You were, of course, sitting with your boyfriend, Ghiaccio. The two of you had one of the small couches to yourself, and were cuddled up under a blanket as you watched the movie

However, you weren't really interested in the movie. You were much more interested in your blue-haired boyfriend sitting next to you

He was watching the movie intently, clearly interested in the plot

You decided it might be fun to tease him a little bit

You started to rub on his thigh with your hand under the blanket, moving teasingly close to his dick

He turned to you and angrily whispered "What the fuck are you doing, troia?"

You played dumb, cocking your head sideways and saying "Hm? What do you mean?"

This pissed him off worse. "You know what you're doing. Quit." He spat

You could feel his dick already getting hard in his pants, which fired you up even more

His face was turning bright red, and his brow was furrowed in frustration

"I'm going to my room, your ass better meet me in there in less than 5 minutes." He growled, excusing himself from the others and going to his room

You waited a few minutes to follow him, not wanting to raise suspicion from the others

Once you get inside the room, he slams the door shut, pressing you against the doorframe

He grabs you by the wrist and throws you down on his bed

"You wanna act like a slut? Fine. You're gonna get used like one." He hissed. He grabs your pants and rips them right off of you, along with your underwear

Normally he would take time to prepare you, but right now all he can focus on is punishing you. How dare you try to embarrass him in front of the others like that???

He shoves his cock in you forcefully, completely using you to take out his frustrations, yelling insults in your face as he fucks you

☆ Illuso ☆

You had been clinging onto him all day, and he normally found it kind of cute, but today it was driving him nuts

He was already aggravated by a mission from the day before that went horribly. He had let his target get away, and failed to kill them like Risotto had ordered. He was furious at himself for making such a major mistake.

You had been trying your hardest to cheer him up, clinging to his side and giving him words of encouragement

Unbeknownst to you, however, this was only making his frustrations grow. He hated how you were all over him, trying to comfort him like he was a child.

He's definitely the type to want alone time when he's angry. He has to take time to sulk by himself in the mirror world and process his emotions.

So when you just won't leave him alone, it makes him angry. He feels like you're feeling pity towards him, and that's the last thing he wants

"Illuso, baby, why don't I make you some tea? You've had a rough day and--" You were cut off mid-sentence by him standing up abruptly and grabbing you by the wrist

"Y/n, I appreciate you trying to make me feel better. But please stop treating me like a child. I'm perfectly capable of handing this myself." He growled, making you tremble in fear

"I'm sorry, Illuso," you whimper, "I just wanna make you feel good after yesterday..."

"If you really wanna make me feel better," He says, "Then get on your knees and get to work." He has the most shit-eating, cocky smirk on his face while he says it

Fucks your face with the force of all of his built up anger

Cusses under his breath while he uses your throat, hands in your hair

Loves to see your tears and drool running down your face

It really does help him blow off some steam. Maybe he should use you like this more often!

☆ Melone ☆

Honestly, it takes a lot for you to make Melone angry or upset with you. He worships the very ground you walk on, and thinks you can do no wrong

However this particular night, you were making him insanely jealous, and in turn, angry as hell

Risotto had decided to have a little party at the base for team bonding, and to celebrate another successful mission

You had been having fun, having a few a lot of drinks and talking with your teammates

This isn't how Melone saw it though, as he sat on the couch and watched you. He saw it as you flirting with them, and them trying to get in your pants. He knows how men can be, and his teammates are no exception.

He couldn't stand it. The way you were leaning into them as you talked, smiling innocently and laughing at their stupid jokes. What the hell was so funny? Why were you having such a good time with them? (Granted, he also had a bit too much to drink, which was making him angrier and much more possessive than usual)

He got up off the leather couch, making his way over to you. He grabbed you by your wrist without a word, guiding you towards the bathroom.

He turned to his confused teammates before saying "Please excuse us for just a moment." In a snarky tone

"Melone? What's gotten into yo-" The bathroom door had barely shut behind the two of you and his lips were already slammed into yours

"Shut up. I see how you laugh with them. They all just want to get in your pants, can't you see that? They don't love you like I do," He snarled, making his way down to your neck and biting down hard

You yelped in surprise at the feeling. "What are you doing??"

"Im leaving my mark on you. I want them to know who you belong to," He growled, continuing to attack your neck

You'd be lying if you said you didn't find it extremely hot when he was jealous and angry like this

He slides your skirt down your legs, thrusting his hand down into your panties. He rubbed slow circles around your clit, making you moan in pleasure. You quickly tried to silence yourself to prevent the others from hearing

"Let it out, dolcezza. Let them know you're all mine. I want them to know exacltly what I'm doing to you in here."

He took his hand out and pulled your panties down around your ankles. He took out his hard cock and lined it up with your entrance, slamming into you, making you howl in pleasure as he fucks you senseless against the bathroom door

You know that all your teammates can hear everything, but in this moment, you can't even be bothered to care