#the guide of how to be perfectly capable of handling this

[porelarte]

Edwin Payne & The Cat King moodboard

[cailinsblog]

Lando’s Little Protector | Lando Norris

Lando Norris x reader

Masterlist

The morning sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains of your shared bedroom, casting a warm glow on the cozy space. You stirred beneath the covers, blinking slowly as the sound of soft footsteps approached. Before you could even sit up, the familiar face of Lando Norris appeared beside the bed, holding a tray with breakfast.

“Good morning, love,” Lando said softly, his signature smile lighting up his face. He carefully set the tray on the bedside table, revealing a plate of toast, scrambled eggs, and a cup of tea. “I brought you breakfast in bed.”

You chuckled, sitting up against the headboard. “Lando, you didn’t have to do all this.”

“Of course I did,” he said, placing a pillow behind your back for extra support. “You’re carrying our baby now. You shouldn’t have to lift a finger.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “Lando, I’m only two months pregnant. I’m not helpless.”

He huffed, crossing his arms in mock seriousness. “Doesn’t matter. You’re growing a tiny human, Y/N. That’s a big deal. I want to make sure you’re taken care of.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his determination. Lando had always been protective, but ever since you told him you were expecting, he’d taken it to a whole new level. He insisted on doing everything for you—cooking, cleaning, even carrying the groceries, despite your protests that you were perfectly capable.

As you ate your breakfast, Lando sat beside you, watching you closely. “How are you feeling today? Any nausea? Headaches?”

You shook your head, laughing softly. “No, I’m fine, Lando. You don’t have to check on me every five minutes.”

“I’m just making sure,” he said, his tone serious. “I don’t want anything to happen to you or the baby.”

After breakfast, you got out of bed and stretched, ready to start the day. But as soon as you reached for the laundry basket, Lando appeared out of nowhere, gently taking it from your hands.

“Uh-uh, no way,” he said, carrying the basket out of the room. “I’ll do the laundry.”

“Lando, I can handle—”

“Nope,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “You sit down and relax.”

You followed him to the living room, where he had set up a cozy spot on the couch with blankets and pillows. He guided you to sit down, then handed you the TV remote and a glass of water.

“There,” he said, satisfied. “Now, you stay here and watch something. I’ll handle everything else.”

You sighed, but a warm feeling spread through your chest. His protectiveness was endearing, even if it was a bit over the top. As you settled into the couch, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for how much he cared.

---

Later that afternoon, you decided to test just how protective Lando could be. While he was in the kitchen, you stood up and started tidying up the coffee table. As soon as Lando noticed, he rushed over, his eyes wide with concern.

“Y/N! What are you doing?” he exclaimed, gently taking the stack of magazines from your hands.

“I’m just cleaning up a bit,” you said innocently.

“No way,” he said, placing the magazines back on the table. “I’ll take care of that. You’re supposed to be resting.”

“Lando, I’m not made of glass,” you said, trying to suppress a laugh.

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated but also determined. “I know, but I don’t want to take any chances. You mean everything to me, Y/N. I just want to keep you safe.”

Your heart melted at his words. You reached up, cupping his face in your hands. “I know, Lando. And I love you for it. But you don’t have to do everything on your own. We’re in this together.”

He leaned into your touch, his eyes softening. “I just want to make sure you and the baby are okay.”

“And we are,” you reassured him. “But if I need help, I promise I’ll ask. Deal?”

He sighed, nodding reluctantly. “Deal. But I’m still going to keep an eye on you.”

You laughed, pulling him into a hug. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

---

As the weeks went on, Lando continued to hover, but he also started to relax a bit. He still insisted on doing most of the household chores, but he allowed you to join him for walks and even let you help with small tasks, like folding laundry.

One evening, as you sat on the couch together, Lando placed a hand on your still-flat stomach, his eyes filled with wonder.

“I can’t believe there’s a little person in there,” he said softly.

“Me neither,” you said, resting your hand on top of his. “But I’m so excited to meet them.”

“Me too,” he said, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your stomach. “And I’m going to be the best dad ever. Just wait and see.”

You smiled, your heart full of love. “I already know you will be, Lando.”

As the months ahead stretched before you, you knew that with Lando by your side, everything was going to be just fine. His protectiveness might drive you a little crazy at times, but it was also a reminder of how deeply he loved you and your growing family. And that was more than enough.

Requesting and rebloging helps me a lot guys 💕

[starkeyisthelastname]

dealer!rafe asking his girl to marry him🥹🥹

it’s official. he’s ready to tie it down 🥹 💍

It was rare that Rafe let you do anything by yourself, but telling you he had some business to handle that day with Barry, he handed you a stack of cash and told you to spend the day pampering yourself. He told you to get your nails done, and pick out something to wear that night as he was taking you out to dinner. You had a closet full of things to wear, but weren’t going to argue when it came to shopping.

Rafe was a nervous fucking wreck all day as he watched the people he had hired to set everything up along the beach. He was going to do something that he had never wanted to do until he met you. He had spent months designing the perfect ring for you, his princess about to turn his queen. He never thought he would want to spend the rest of his life with just one person, always having been selfish. You were so different though in a way he couldn’t even explain.

Rafe stole a quick glance at his reflection in the mirror before inhaling deeply and making a slight adjustment to the gold Rolex adorning his wrist. Dressed in a perfectly fitting navy blue suit, a lavish gold chain draped across his neck, he exuded an air of confidence. After running a hand over his freshly trimmed buzzcut, he carefully placed the red box in the pocket of his dress pants, just as you emerged from the closet.

The moment his eyes locked onto you, he knew that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Your hair was styled flawlessly, your makeup adding a sparkle to your pretty blushed cheeks and glossy lips, and the dress you wore embraced your stunning curves in the same shade of blue as his suit, as if you had known what he was going to wear.

“Oh mama…” His voice cracked but quickly clearing his throat. “You look fucking amazing.” He said, watching as you walked towards him. You held up the diamond necklace for him to help fasten that held the initials R.C, little did you know that was going to be your last name soon.

“Where are we going for dinner?” You asked, eyes grazing over how had some he looked. You wondered what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up that night at his house, confessing to him that you could not stop thinking about him.

Rafe glanced over at you, a little startled as he glided the Range Rover down the island roads. He had been deep in thought, realizing he was about to propose to the girl he was in love with. Yes, love. Something he never thought he would be capable of getting, let alone quite literally landing in his lap one night. He swallowed back the nerves, and took a hand off the wheel to grab your fleshy thigh. “It’s a surprise baby.” He said, squeezing your smooth skin in his large palm.

You never argued with Rafe, and you did love surprises, so with that, you looked out the window at the serene view until your man spoke up again. “Can you do me a favorite my pretty girl? Close your eyes for me, yeah? We’re almost there.” He said, his voice low.

You were use to the occasional surprise by Rafe, so him asking you to close your eyes wasn’t something unusual. You trusted him with everything and sometimes that scared you since you didn’t know the depth of what Rafe did but you knew it wasn’t all good, despite him reassuring you he’s just making money. You filled lashes, fluttered close and you soon felt the car come to a stop and your door being opened.

“I’m gonna take these off, okay?” You heard his voice, eyes still closed as you felt the straps being unfastened to the Dior heels you wore. You desperately wanted to open your eyes, but squeezed them shut tighter to not peek. You wondered why he would be taking your shoes off to go eat dinner? Nonetheless, he took your hand and helped you out.

“Now don’t open those pretty eyes for me mama until I tell you to.” Rafe said, voice gentle yet firm to let you know he was being serious.You nodded your head, letting him guide you along the way until your feet touched warm sand.

Rafe had never been so nervous in his entire life and he had done a lot of bad shit. From robberies and to something even more sinister, those things didn’t faze him. This was something entirely different, and something he never thought he would be doing. Slowly letting go of your hand, he took a deep breath and carefully got down on one knee. “Open your eyes for me.” He said, voice a little shaky.

As soon as your eyes opened, you were met with a sight that made your heart stop. The beautiful red rose petals surrounded down the path you had just walked, small candles lighting up the sand as the sun started to set along the Outer Banks. Your eyes then focused on the handsome man kneeled before you, biting his lower lip as he watched you look around the beautiful set up.

“I’ve told you so many times, that I don’t know what you’ve been doing to me. Got a grown man wanting to cry and shit.” Rafe said with a nervous laugh, knowing deep down as cold as he was that he was also quite sensitive, but he always pushed his vulnerability down.

You swallowed the building lump in your throat as he continued to talk, his thumbs grazing across your hands as he held them. “Being in a serious relationship was something I never wanted. I was only about making money, and spending it on myself. Then you walked in, and I had never seen a more beautiful girl in all my fucking life. I never expected to want to tie it down, and give someone my last name. You aren’t just beautiful baby, but you see something in me that I don’t even see. I’m not a good man, and I do a lot of bad shit..” He said, swallowing the guilt down. “You choose to see the good in me. Not the messed up, fucked up side that everyone else is afraid of.”

You watched as he removed one hand from yours, reaching down into the pocket of his navy blue slacks. He pulled the crimson box out that read Cartier in gold letters and slowly opened it, to reveal a stunning rock.

“Remember that night you came back to my house, and told me you couldn’t stop thinking about me. I asked if you wanted to be mine, and I meant that. I gotta make you my fucking wife mama, can I?” He asked, eyes glassy as he waited for your answer.

You were a little naive, and went into this not knowing how thing would turn out with you and Rafe. The first thing you ever heard about him was that he was an asshole, and yes you saw that. But you also saw a man that struggled with an internal battle, a man who provided you with everything you could ever imagine, a man who treated you like the most precious jewel that ever existed. A man that you knew you wanted to spend the rest of your life with without any question.

“Y-yes..” You whispered, tears spilling as you saw the white smile break out on his face. Something he didn’t do very often. He plucked the huge diamond from the velvet that it took place in and watched as he slid it on your ring finger with ease.

He slowly stood back up, pulling you possessively toward him as gripped you tightly. “I’m so fucking in love with you my future Mrs. Cameron.” He whispered against your lips, pulling you into a heated kiss.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

In what ways would you change Yuu (or would you get rid of them entirely)? The writing feels inconsistent on their place/importance. If they were just a conduit for the player to watch the events unfold that's one thing but in another story they are an active player.

I'd personally play into the beastamer aspect more. They are supposedly the reason why Ace, Deuce, and Grim were able to work together thus I'd want them to have more agency in making plans, giving orders, etc. Rook calls them Trickster but in what way (lol). The vagueness of being a self insert pains me. I'd also want to give them some magically infused weapon (or has a magestone embedded) just so they aren't fodder or sideline material.

Mmm… As much as I dislike the blank slate self-insertiness of Yuu (I’d prefer to read about an actually realized character), I wouldn’t want to get rid of them altogether. I think they’re important for the role they serve in the narrative even if in execution is inconsistent and not done well.

The problem with “changing” Yuu is that there has to be a certain level of ambiguity due to the design of the game. You cannot give them too much personality or you risk alienating the audience that likes to project or self-insert. There’s also a limit to how much uniqueness a mobile game can lend its players characters; the format isn’t exactly known for having super in-depth player arcs, it’s known for their colorful casts of rollable characters. The devs have to toe that line carefully, not to mention juggle Yuu’s participation with letting the other characters shine. It is for this reason that I won’t be doing a total overhaul of Yuu or just deciding “give them a personality!” as what I’d change about them. Rather, I’ll be proposing alterations while thinking like a dev (ie preserving the current story and as much of the self-insertiness as I can while also trying to give Yuu more to do/say).

Now Yuu, being the outsider to this world, is perfectly poised to have others dump exposition on them. This serves the dual purpose of being able to diegetically explain things to the player. (We wouldn’t get this advantage if the player character was changed to be like… a Twisted Wonderland resident; you could explain some magic things to a layman, but a resident wouldn’t need more common knowledge like country names exposited to them. Were this the case, we’d need an additional excuse for Crowley to take in a native.) It’s also convenient to have them be the “eyes” for the player to experience the world through, since Yuu is able to conveniently be present for most major main story events. It essentially makes them a human-shaped video camera.

I’ve often heard people suggest that if we need a POV character, why not go with Grim since he basically serves the same purpose now anyway. My answer to that is: Grim is also an arrogant asshole who picks fights, just the same as any other NRC student. If Grim were the player character, he wouldn’t be contributing much or helping to guide the other students learn to get along. We need Yuu here to be that driving force for change because Grim simply isn’t capable of it when he’s instigating himself half of the time.

A smaller thing about Yuu that I love is the idea of them being the school photographer! (This is something that is shown in the second anniversary animated video too!) It gives us context for the cards we roll and it implies that Yuu is the one documenting these precious memories. I want Yuu to stay if only for this reason.

Personally, I wouldn’t make Yuu a combatant. This is antithetical to their role and I feel would instead work against them (or at least create a scenario where Yuu has to have some level of battle prowess; this impedes on the self-insert nature of them). Sticking a magic item in their hand makes little difference since they most likely wouldn’t know how to handle it in the moment. (Nor would a magicless human even be able to use some of them; for example, a magestone is completely useless to them.) A magicless human with no combat experience is just another liability to account for, not to mention it actively puts them in harm’s way. It might be cool in theory, but I think in practice it goes against the very concept of Yuu. They’re meant to be here to show that there is “another way” to the NRC students—that violence doesn’t solve all your problems, proof that you don’t need to be a powerful being to “change” others or the world around them. They’re supposed to be underestimated and not seen as much of a “real” fighter, and they’re supposed to prove those notions wrong by demonstrating their worth via other avenues. In this “the weak obey the strong” school, Yuu has to be the one to show them that strength comes in forms that are NOT magic power or battle prowess.

I feel that Yuu works best on the sidelines as a supporter and strategist. Strategy is, after all, half of the battle, and it’s a part that people tend to overlook in favor of the flashier fighters. But strategy is crucial and it can turn the tide against a formidable foe (as we see in the prologue)!! I think this is something the NRC students need to be made more aware of too, so Yuu should stay as the strategist; they just have to be given more opportunities to show off those skills!

With all of that being said, here is what I would change about Yuu:

Drop the beast tamer thing. It gets mentioned prominently like once in the prologue and then never becomes truly relevant. Maybe it’ll become important when it comes to taking down OB Grim, but that will be SO late in the main story that the payoff doesn’t seem worth it. There are no examples of Yuu’s beast taming skills ever being used in the main story, so the whole “oh you have the makings of a beast tamer” thing is so useless. If you really want to keep it, then let Yuu’s innate talent/skills for beast taming help them out at least once per main story book. This means I’d want to see instances of Yuu getting other creatures (ie not just Grim) to help them out.

Allow Yuu the agency to act on their own when it comes to finding a way back to their own world. Going home is so often relegated to a single line or a few sentences and then not addressed again until next book. Have Yuu take initiative instead of waiting around for updates from Crowley. They should go out and ask questions, investigate on their own, etc. Maybe have them get involved in each book’s conflict because they happen to get mixed up in it while conducting research instead of being TOLD to go and fix a problem. Book 6 marks the only real time I can think of Yuu making a drastic decision against Crowley’s advice. It puts them at great risk, and that’s something they’re willing to take for the sake of saving their friends. We need more moments like this throughout the rest of the story. However, Yuu won’t be allowed to do whatever they want unrestricted because 1) it falls out of the scope of a mobile game title and 2) we want to largely retain the capacity to self-insert. So when I say give Yuu more agency to act, I mean it ONLY in the sense of being more proactive in their efforts to get home.

Add a short comment or two from other characters depending on which dialogue options are picked for Yuu. It would be too ambitious to incorporate a full-on branching storyline or strong “choose your own adventure” elements, but at least have the other characters consistently comment on whatever brief dialogue option Yuu has rather than ignoring them 90% of the time. This wouldn’t alter the story in any way but it sure would be nice to have a little more flavor text and more of Yuu actually being acknowledged as present.

Yuu should fully commit to being a planner and strategist. We get to see this aspect of Yuu like once or twice in the prologue (when they tell Grim where to spit fire at the ghosts/planning how to beat the Phantom in the mines) and then are left to extrapolate this to the rest of the game. Maybe you can argue they figured out Azul’s scheme in book 3 too, but this isn’t good enough. If you’re going to set up the idea, then have consistent segments in each book that reinforces that idea. Have Yuu brainstorm ways to jailbreak in book 4, have Yuu be perceptive enough to notice that Malleus isn’t feeling great in book 7 (only for Malleus to brush them off/insist he has a solution), etc.

Have a short story segment that explains how or why Yuu earns their nickname “Trickster” from Rook. We got this with Floyd, so the other known nicknamer should reveal this, especially since the name “Trickster” implies intelligence and cunning. Yuu should have an opportunity to demonstrate this (in book 5 maybe?), which earns them Rook’s respect and the new title. This should also be informed by other parts where Yuu shows how smart they can be.

More time bonding with Grim. I say Grim specifically because I commonly see him as a hated character in part because of how he “steals lines/time” away from Yuu. (Adeuce and Malleus are fine as they are because the former already stick up for/help Yuu out and the latter is meant to stay mysterious until late in the main story.) This means that if you don’t already like Grim, the whole “Yuu chases them to Styx HQ to save Grim” plot point in book 6 rings hollow. To truly build a bond with Grim, please give us moments prior to book 6 that show how much they care for one another and are linked to each other as partners. Times when Grim causes inconveniences for Yuu don’t count. Give me instances of them cuddling at night or talking to each other about their hopes and dreams or whatever. This would establish the value that Grim sees in Yuu, as well as the value that Yuu sees in Grim. It makes it more believable that Grim would cry when he’s alone or realizes he hurt his partner, and that Yuu would defy the headmaster’s advice and put themselves at risk to save Grim.

Better incorporate the ghost camera and its usage in the main story. The ghost camera provides an in-universe explanation for gaming meta (ie the card illustrations); in the main story, it’s hardly ever mentioned save for its introduction in the prologue and when Yuu takes a picture of Mickey with it. What should happen instead is Yuu will take a picture of the characters involved in that chapter. This way, it’s a physical reminder of the time everyone spent together and the bonds they’ve developed. It further strengthens the idea of the students learning to get along and Yuu being there to facilitate that while also keeping the ghost camera relevant.

More time where Yuu actually bonds with/“changes” the other characters. One huge gripe I have with the main story is that we’re TOLD that Yuu’s presence changes and improves the boys for the better, that they teach them how to get along. Very little of the actual main story supports this (outside of the prologue). At best, Yuu has a very short chat with some of the OB boys at the end of their respective book. Yuu should have a little more time in this regard. I don’t know, maybe Idia is still struggling to socialize when he comes over to play video games at Ramshackle so Yuu has to gently encourage him to give it a try or says something to help include him in the conversation. Little things like that! Keep the strong interactions the other characters have in changing the OB boys (like Trey being the one to rush to Riddle’s side, the twins teasing Azul, etc.), but have Yuu help facilitate them opening up emotionally and being vulnerable with one another.

This last point is debatable (I keep changing my mind about it), but possibly make a point of showing how Yuu is adjusting to this new world. This honestly might mess with the self-insert aspect (which is why I debated to leave this out), but I also feel like it might be interesting to reinforce Yuu’s desire to go home h demonstrating homesickness or issues with settling into Twisted Wonderland.

To summarize, the changes I’d make largely involve making TWST commit to briefly mentioned details (that they largely don’t follow through on) and making Yuu actually do a little more to warrant crediting them with resolving issues + fostering friendships. A lot of the problems that exist now are due to promising a lot but then poorly executing on what was promised.

[gogogodzilla]

day 9, size difference

paladin danse x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, from danse's pov, mentions of riding & blowjobs, no dialogue, mentions of reader's breasts kinktober ☠︎︎ main masterlist ☠︎︎ read on ao3

Danse was a hulking figure, and he knew that. His power armor helped, of course, but even out of it, he towered over his peers. He towered over you. 

You stood tall in your own ways. You were a leader in every sense of the word. When you defended him against Arthur’s rage, he swore you were eight feet tall. 

Danse loved how small you were, physically, compared to him. It was cliché, but he loved to hold your hand against his, taking in the difference. He also loved the difference in a more selfish way. His size made him feel like he could protect you, even if you were perfectly capable of handling yourself. You’d proven that time and time again. 

In a more intimate setting, he loved towering over you and bending your smaller frame however he liked. His favorite was to have you under him, legs pushed up so they were nearly over his shoulders, taking his thick cock like you were made for him.

He loved watching you squirm as he pushed inside you. You were so good for him. He was nearly drooling as your tight hole swallowed him inch by stimulating inch. Just when he thought he couldn’t possibly fit another centimeter inside you, he was buried completely. He was gentle, most of the time. He knew he had to be and he didn’t want to hurt you. Other times, however, he’d lose himself and get so wrapped up inside you that he couldn’t contain himself. He’d bury himself to the hilt over and over again, the tip of his length brushing up against that sensitive spot over and over again. 

He’d apologize profusely when he saw you wincing as you rose from bed. He wasn’t a monster, and beneath his rough exterior, he cared for you. It’d gnaw at him for ages afterward, and he’d be terrified to touch you. You’d coax him back into your bed when you were ready and convince him that you’d speak up if you were hurting. 

In your not-so-rare moments of boldness, he loved when you rode him. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as you slowly sunk down his cock, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you focused on taking every single inch of him. Large hands palmed your breasts as you began bouncing up and down on his cock. When your thrusts became sloppy or you slowed down, he was quick to grab your hips and rut into you from below. He loved seeing you become a whining, cockdrunk mess as he took what he needed. If he was feeling particularly nice, he’d grab the globes of your ass and help guide you up and down on his cock. He loved watching your tits bounce as you leaned back and let him move your body how he wanted. 

He loved it when you jerked him off, your small hand barely wrapping around his length as you stroked him. You quickly made up for it by using both hands to milk his cock or using one hand to stroke what your mouth couldn’t reach. Fuck, he loved that mouth of yours. He loved the way you gagged around him when you tried to take all of him. Trying to be so good for him. 

You were always good for him, in any way he could get you. He thanked whatever omnipotent being was out there that he was lucky enough to spend even a second with you. He loved enveloping you in his arms when he held you at night. He loved the way it felt like he was keeping you safe in a world that was hell-bent on killing you at any waking moment. He loved that he could provide that solace for you.

[barfygutcheck]

pizza-logged

/uhh to be perfectly honest this is just pure kink and little else. it involves a stethoscope and some pizza overload. enjoy/

Sawyer was knocked out cold, splayed across the couch in the typical position that followed an indulgent meal. Her legs extended past the edge, one arm loosely covering her eyes while the other dangled over the side. The coffee table bore witness to her indulgence, cluttered with an empty pizza box from Sawyer’s favorite place in Kingston, discarded greasy napkins, and the subtle scent of pepperoni still hanging in the atmosphere.

Jackie nestled up against her girlfriend, one hand gently resting on Sawyer’s broad chest. Instances like this left Jackie unsure of what to do with herself. Sawyer had emerged from football practice “starved,” and Jackie, ever the supportive girlfriend, had urged her to eat… perhaps driven by a desire to see Sawyer grow full. Part of her reasoning was practical: to recover adequately, Sawyer needed to consume sufficient calorie intake. The other part?

Slightly adjusting her position, Jackie let her head rest on Sawyer’s shoulder, her gaze instinctively falling on Sawyer’s belly: markedly swollen, her muscles slack, the fabric of her shirt pulled tight.

With a moment of pause, Jackie felt equal parts self-conscious and concerned before she allowed her hand to settle directly on the expanse of Sawyer’s abdomen, where the pizza had settled, mindful of how stuffed Sawyer must feel. The heat of her skin was striking against the distension.

Normally, if Sawyer was awake, Jackie wouldn’t even get this close. Sawyer operated in two distinct modes: boasting about her food consumption or lamenting the consequences of her indulgence. In this instance, it was clear that she had reached her limit and would be grappling with a stomachache if she were conscious. However, she was far from awake. So, Jackie indulged her curiosity, tracing circles across Sawyer’s expanded stomach, her fingertips exploring the surface. As she applied gentle pressure, she could sense the tightness of the bloating — much like a balloon blown up to its near-bursting point.

She could practically imagine the digestive process occurring in her girlfriend’s abdomen; the stomach walls contracting in a rhythmic fashion, guiding the hefty mass of food toward the intestines. Given the sheer bulk of cheese and dough, this process was inevitably sluggish and inefficient.

No wonder Sawyer was out cold. Her head lolled to the side, mouth slightly open, completely knocked out from her food coma.

Jackie couldn’t help but feel aroused.

Just as she was settling deeper into the couch, she heard it — this faint gurgling sound. It was so soft at first that she thought she might’ve imagined it. But then it came again, a quiet, low rumble that seemed to echo from Sawyer’s belly. Jackie lifted her head slightly, peering down at Sawyer’s stomach again.

“Huh,” Jackie murmured, raising an eyebrow. “Is that your stomach, babe?” Of course, Sawyer couldn’t respond.

Jackie bit her lip.

The gurgling continued, a gentle but persistent noise that made her own stomach twist with a vague sense of unease.

Jackie’s medical training took over, and though she knew it was important not to jump to conclusions — Sawyer was a big girl, more than capable of handling a simple stomachache — her concern deepened with each passing moment. The sounds from Sawyer’s stomach were growing harder to ignore, and Jackie couldn’t shake the feeling that it might be more than just a typical food overload. She didn’t want to deal with chunks of half-digested pizza all over the couch, or worse, risk Sawyer waking up in agony.

Jackie shifted slightly, careful not to wake Sawyer. Her hand slid off Sully’s chest as she reached over to the coffee table where her stethoscope lay. She always kept it close, a habit from long nights of studying.

 Sawyer would probably give her so much grief if she knew Jackie was taking this medical approach, but since Sawyer was completely out, Jackie figured there was no harm.

“Alright, don’t hate me for this,” Jackie whispered as if Sawyer could hear her. She gently lifted Sawyer’s shirt, revealing her toned stomach, now slightly distended from all that pizza. Pronounced was one word. Swollen was another. Jackie had helped with a few slices; two and a half, precisely because she ate like a bird.

Sawyer had taken care of the rest, but one would have been able to tell just from the looks of her stomach.

Jackie placed the stethoscope’s diaphragm against Sawyer’s warm skin and pressed her ear to the other end.

The soft growling noises she had heard earlier were much louder now. Jackie’s brows knitted together as she listened intently. It wasn’t just normal digestion but rather intense bubbling, sloshing, and churning. Periodically, a sharp, almost groaning noise emerged, as if Sawyer’s stomach was actively protesting the overwhelming volume of food it had been tasked to manage. The sounds weren’t alarming in a medical emergency kind of way, but they certainly weren’t… pleasant. Her stomach could hardly grapple with the excess.

“Jesus, Sully, what did I get you into?” Jackie muttered under her breath, pulling the stethoscope away for a moment. She frowned, her hand resting lightly on Sawyer’s stomach. It was warm to the touch, but not unusually so. Still, with the way it was rumbling and shifting beneath her fingers, Jackie had a feeling Sawyer was going to wake up in for a rough time.

Sawyer shifted slightly, her face scrunching up in discomfort, but she didn’t wake.

Jackie felt a pang of guilt. She’d encouraged Sawyer to eat the entire pizza, and now her stomach was working overtime to deal with it. Jackie pressed the stethoscope back to Sawyer’s belly, listening again. The sounds were just as unsettling — a mix of liquid sloshing and air moving around in ways that didn’t seem like they should be. Under normal circumstances, the sounds would be rhythmic but somewhat gentle; occasional burbles, gushing as digestion kicked in. However, Jackie picked up prolonged periods of silence followed by harsh gurgling and strained noises, indicative of a cramped digestive tract.

Perhaps nausea was building up.

Sawyer’s body jerked slightly, a sudden hiccup escaping her lips. The hiccup was so forceful it jostled her entire body, and Jackie’s hand felt the sloshing inside Sawyer’s belly. The sound was unmistakable — a thick noise that made Jackie’s eyes briefly widen. She froze, listening as another hiccup followed, this one even louder.

Jackie leaned back with a sigh, pulling the stethoscope from her ears and setting it aside. There wasn’t much she could do now except wait for Sawyer to wake up and see how she felt. Jackie just hoped she wouldn’t feel too awful.

Her gaze softened as she looked at Sawyer’s peaceful face, her breathing steady despite the clear turmoil happening in her gut.

The growling from Sully’s stomach continued, but Jackie was at least reassured that nothing serious seemed to be happening. It was just a classic case of overeating.

Jackie leaned her head against Sawyer’s shoulder, letting the gentle rise and fall of Sawyer’s chest calm her own nerves. For now, all Jackie could do was wait and make sure Sawyer didn’t wake up in too much pain. After all, it wasn’t every day your girlfriend devoured an entire pizza and then passed out like a rock.

Jackie chuckled softly, resting her hand on Sawyer’s warm stomach again, feeling the faint vibrations of her digestive system working overtime. Sully might grumble when she woke up, but Jackie would be there, ready to help.

[loganwritesprobably]

When You're In Danger (Straw Hats P2)

Feat. Nami, Robin and Jinbei

Content/warnings: Reader is GN, canon-typical violence referenced, injuries referenced

Nami is a coward and she knows it

Rarely does she rush head first into danger

But she'd do it for you

You're her most prized treasure, and she'll be damned if anyone things she'll let you get hurt

She can't do much damage herself, so she'd prefer to stay closeby so the two of you can back each other up

If the two of you are separated, and she sees or hears that you're in trouble, it'll give her a new surge of determination

She may cross the battlefield screaming, but she'll do it to get to you

Nami knows she might not be able to save you, but she can be there to at least lessen the hurt you suffer

Rather than showing she guilty that she couldn't help you, Nami would lash out at the stronger crew members because they should've helped

Even though she knows you don't normally need the help

If you got hurt because you were protecting her though

That'd devastate her

She hates that she isn't as strong as the others, and it would never hurt more than in that moment

Robin is a powerhouse in her own right

She can more than handle herself in a fight

But diverting attention is dangerous

She will focus on her own fight first and foremost, even if you're in danger

She can't help you if she ends up hurt because she was careless

Once her own fight is over, she'll be at your side instantly

She'll insert herself into your fight without waiting for permission, because she knows at that point for sure if she's needed

She'll protect you first, then deal with your attacker second

You are capable, and she always makes sure to explain that she doesn't involve herself because she thinks otherwise - she just wants you to be safe

If someone hurt you, they'd see no mercy from the Devil Child

She'd be the one to carry you to Chopper, even if you were perfectly capable of walking

She'd remain by your side, reading aloud, until you were well again

We've seen already what Jinbei will do to defend someone he thinks deserves it

You're no different

He'll dive directly into danger if it means he can keep you safe

He knows that you're capable, but you're also both aware that he is more capable, and so him coming to your defence isn't an insult

It's a sign of how much he cares

9/10 times if Jinbei comes to your defence, you won't get so much as a scratch

But that one in ten creates hell to pay

He's been through a lot in his life, but he cares for you more than most, and so you getting hurt is way up there on the list of things that piss him off

He's able to dispatch whoever was causing you harm immediately, and then check on you

Before he takes you anywhere, he'll check in and ask how you're feeling. He's calm and collected while he gathers the information he needs from you

Only then would he take you to be seen by Chopper

Requests are open! See below links for my other works, and how to leave requests. I write both canon/canon and canon/reader requests for your enjoyment

AO3 | Fanfic Masterlist | Request Rules | Fic Trades Guide | WIPs

Tags: @claryeverlarkf

[androgynealienfemme]

"When I was eleven or twelve years old, I used to shop in the boy's department at Bloomingdale's, just as the other prepubescent private school girls did. That was where you could purchase polo shirts, Shetland sweaters, and all the other socially acceptable androgynous clothing for our age group and gender. They fit and suited me just fine, but what would have suited me even better was nothing other than an actual suit: the three piece variety mad of thin-wale, beige corduroy with brown simulated leather buttons.

I knew exactly where they hung in the boys' department, and I paid them a visit each time I was in the vicinity. It's funny, but though I can't remember at the time ever seeing a girl or woman in one of these suits, that did not hinder my imagination of what that would look like. Neither did the shortage of real life models ever lead to any questions about why exactly there was one. Somehow I had simply gotten it into my head that such a sight would be wonderful. And, though once again I felt no need to ponder precisely how I knew this, clearly, the most appropriate person to wear such a suit would be me.

Picturing myself in the suit, I was suddenly a lot taller and older and stunningly sophisticated,. The suit seemed to have the almost magical power to make me strong, wise, just. The vision of myself naturally included physical as well as mental capabilities well beyond those of an eleven-or twelve-year-old, but who was I to disbelieve the suit's mystique?

I never tried one on. Although the desire to own one felt perfectly natural to me, it had been met with a mixture of mocking laughter and horror by my mother. Something about her response definitely said, "No." and, "Tell no one." So the suits, like forbidden fruit, remained there untouched by me for years, moved at times from one corner of the department to another, but always just out of reach of my young body's many secret yearnings.

Roughly fourteen years later, as I was walking in the rain, I suddenly realized I was butch. Everything made sense. My butchness came as much more of a surprise to me than my lesbianism, which, despite some years of procrastination on my part as to actually adopting it as a daily lifestyle, I always knew and comfortably accepted.

The way I ever so swaggered and stomped my clunky boots when I walked, and felt sort of proud of it, now made sense. The way I firmly held the umbrella over the woman I love and protected her from the rain as I guided her down the Brooklyn street took on new clarity. The freedom and invincibleness I feel after a close haircut I better understood. The pleasure and vanity I indulge in when I stretch my muscles to lift something that looks heavier than I can manage all at once held new meaning. The childlike glee I feel every time I discover something needing to be fixed in the house and the puffed=up self-importance that fills me each time I fix it had new significance for me. Even my tremendous need for control could now be explained. And my assertive overtures of passion in the dark where I gently bur firmly demand submission most of all seemed to fit.

I gripped the handle of the umbrella tighter and walked along with, I'm sure, the stupidest grin on my face, flashing the woman I love periodic glances of affection as she continued to talk happily, oblivious to the volcano that had just erupted beside her. There, in the rain, as a flood of feelings and enlightenment washed my insides, I had one final glimmer of insight. I at last understood that without ever actually buying the three-piece suit made of thin-wale, beige corduroy, with the brown, simulated leather buttons, I had been wearing one all along."

-"Sweet Suit Suite" Audrey Grifel, The Persistent Desire, (Edited by Joan Nestle (1992)

[jayden-writes]

respite

pairing: Lucifer x gn!Reader

wordcount: ~0.8k

genre: fluff

cw: none!

summary: a serene evening with Lucifer

other notes: no name, Y/N or MC used // based on this drawing I commissioned from @stulili // AO3 // thanks again to @gravedwe11er for helping me so much with this fic!

“Come on now. Don't be shy,” Lucifer said, his hand stretched out towards you expectantly, a soft melody filling his bedroom. It was rather late in the evening and you had spent most of the day with him, taking advantage of the fact that he had taken a day off - for the first time in who knows how long; he was wearing those sweatpants you had gotten him once half as a joke, even if only in the privacy of his room.

“You know I can't dance and I don't want to step on you,” you rebuffed him, but he refused to be deterred by that.

“I am perfectly capable of leading you. Besides, I assure you that I can handle a few missteps here and there,” he pointed out while he watched you, his expression and posture relaxed. A satisfied smile tugged on the corners of his lips when you eventually relented, and he guided your palm up to press a kiss on your skin, causing your cheeks to heat up. He settled his free hand possessively on your waist, and you rested yours on his upper arm, keeping a small, yet comfortable distance. Both of your socked feet were moving silently, and your eyes were fixed on the wooden floor as you struggled to keep up and at the same time not step on him.

“My eyes are up here, dear,” he teased you after a few minutes of silence and slow movements - his were practiced and cadenced, yours were clumsy.

“Well, I don’t want to step on you”, you reiterated, feeling embarrassed by the obvious difference in skill between you and him.

“You won’t,” he reassured you softly, “at least try not to look down so much and relax, just exist in this moment and let go. You will do fine, I promise.”

You huffed quietly and kept staring at the ground, your brow furrowed with the effort of not misstepping. Without a warning, he snaked his arm around your waist until his palm came to rest on your lower back and he carefully, but assertively, pulled you closer to him. For a second, your already unpracticed steps faltered, though miraculously, you didn’t tread on his feet. Out of instinct, you wrapped an arm around his torso to steady yourself and he continued to guide you, unperturbed by your blunder.

“H-Hey!” you stammered. At that, he chuckled affectionately, thoroughly enjoying having caught you off guard. He nuzzled your hair with his nose, his breaths gently tickling the top of your head and you shuddered a little, goosebumps forming on your skin. Being pressed flush against Lucifer allowed you to feel the rise and fall of his chest, the familiar heat of his body seeping into you. With your ear resting right above his steadily beating heart, you finally let yourself relax a bit more and trust in him.

He led you a bit longer until gradually, he became slower, coming to a stop, and the two of you simply stood in the room, holding each other. Lucifer let go of your hand and cupped your cheek instead, tipping your face upward to meet his gaze.

“I love you,” he whispered into the small space between you, his garnet-red eyes brimming with warmth as he regarded you tenderly and you felt butterflies fluttering in your stomach. No matter how many times you had heard these words from him, it still made your pulse race and your knees weak.

“And I love you,” you muttered in response, closing the remaining distance. When his warm lips met yours, he tightened his grip on you marginally, pressing you even closer as if he never wanted to let you go and you let him, melting into Lucifer’s all-encompassing embrace.

After a few moments you pulled away, needing to catch your breath, and he used the opportunity to press light kisses on the corner of your mouth, cheek and temple, making you giggle. He laughed faintly, placing his lips on your forehead, then he withdrew, taking your hands in his and kissing your knuckles as well. The flush on your face grew more pronounced and you sheepishly averted your gaze.

“Now, now, none of that,” he murmured, tilting your head back towards him with a delicate grasp on your jaw. “There you go, that’s better.”

Lucifer looked at you, his eyes crinkling as he smiled fondly, pecking your heated cheek once again before pulling you with him to his bed. Lying on the mattress, he tugged on your hand until you laid down next to him, and almost like it was second nature to him, he wrapped his arms around you to draw your body closer to his. You nestled your face into the crook of his neck, the skin cool against your blush.

He hummed contentedly, tucking your head underneath his chin while he held you securely, tangling his legs with yours; there was no way you could move away, even if you wanted to.

There was nowhere else you’d rather be.

[callsignmarz]

MDNI| 18+ | Keegan x Y/N | Fem

TW- mentions of weapons, sexual content & adult language.

“Claim Me.” (Final Pt.)

God, you were sore in all the right places.

But as much as you would love to put all the blame into this morning's work out session.

There was no argument that Keegan did a number on you last night.

You still couldn't fathom how he simply demolished your inner walls. Repeatedly bulldozing his way in, chipping away parts and taking each piece to reconstruct you back together to suit him and him only.

Recrossing your legs for the 20th time today, you squirm in your office chair, fighting the urge to extinguish the wildfire of arousal.

It was a struggle to maintain focus with last night's performance replaying, distracting you from paperwork that was due by the end of the day.

Deep rooted embarrassment swarms with unquestionable desire. As frustration weeds, you finally force yourself to step away from your desk, taking a break to go and walk around the company.

Surely, some fresh air will do the trick.

After walking aimlessly for some time, you wandered into the company's armory. There you saw the regular bunch, fucking around per usual.

Soon, the overlapping voices gradually hushed with all heads in the room turning in your direction. A few soldiers quietly snickered and whispered amongst themselves, thinning your eyes in suspicion, but decided it was better to not ask any questions.

Somehow, last night, word had gotten out and rolled over into today's hot gossip. Unknowingly to you, the swirl of rumors had knitted a blanket of awkwardness, swaddling you completely.

"You have fun last night, L/N?" Asked a random soldier. By the sound of his tone, he was definitely a dared. The question alone had your cheeks glowing with palpable embarrassment but, as hard as it was, you kept your cool.

"Depends on who's asking?" You retort as you faced the giggling soldiers, folding your arms defensively across your chest, giving them an audacious look of ‘Just try and fuck with me.’

At this point, Keegan had just strolled in, placing his rifle meticulously on the leaden gun rack, paying no mind to the room’s current focal point. It wasn’t until what he overheard that made him see nothing but red.

“You were playing with yourself last night?”

“Actually, I wasn’t, Corporal Neece.” You shot back moving a hand to your hip, rolling your eyes to the back of your skull, disgusted that this was even up for discussion.

“Riiight…then, you must’ve been playing with your imaginary boyfriend.” Neece meddles on, getting a kick out of how red your face had turned. “Awe, don’t be so bashful, Y/N.”

Your mouth flops open and right as the natural instinct to slap the ever living shit out of this man, Keegan’s large hand seized your wrist and stationed himself on your front lines. His veins bulge on the verge of bursting with rage. Curling his fingers tightly into a fist, Keegan’s piercing gaze waned in on the now mousey soldier.

“How about this, Corporal. I’m the boyfriend. Do I look real enough to you?” Keegan attested, taking a step forward and cornering Neece with fear lodging itself in his throat, he frantically nods when his back pressed against the cool metal of the weapon’s cabinet. “Good. Now, get lost…all of you.”

Keegan’s authority was never one to be messed with and when he started barking out orders; it meant business. Everyone scrambled, heading Keegan’s order before they all scurried off.

All, except for you.

“I didn’t need you to come to my rescue.” You said sharply, snatching your wrist back, desperately trying to conceal the humiliation you felt. “I’m perfectly capable of handling myself.”

Keegan scoffs. “You’re not denying it this time, Sweetheart.”

“There’s nothing to deny. We’re just friends.” You repeated your infamous rebuttal.

Taking a finger, Keegan gently guides your face, lifting your chin up so your eyes meet with his frosty blues. You innately hold a breath in when you feel his other hand snake to the small of your back. “Are you done? Because I’m getting real sick of this little game you’re trying to play right now. We both know what happened. You know damn well that we have something…something real…”

Your bottom lip backpedals between your teeth when Keegan’s thumb skates across, reimagining how they perfectly molded to his last night. With the heat between your bodies radiating, you lean into Keegan’s supportive embrace, perching your arms over his shoulders, no longer denying the insatiable chemistry.

Resting his forehead on yours, Keegan’s next words bristled your skin with goosebumps.

“Claim me.”

Right on cue, you pull Keegan’s skull balaclava up to the bridge of his nose and without a second to spare, your lips collided fervently. Keegan deepens the kiss as his tongue eagerly invades your mouth, exciting a few soft moans out while you relish on the taste of his control. Keegan’s hand falls to cup the shape of your ass, flawlessly it manipulated underneath his palm, his pants grow uncomfortably tight when the flashbacks of last night begin rolling in. The fire of arousal continues to spread when Keegan lightly nips at your bottom lip, your hips take initiative, desperately gyrating against his, igniting primal urges of his own.

Just as stars began to fill your vision, a husked voice took you both by surprise, nearly pissing yourself in the process.

“So you two are an item.” Logan casually publicized with a studious expression. “Could’ve fooled me, to be honest.”

Panicking, you immediately shoved Keegan away with enough force that the air in his lungs come out as a hushed grunt and his expression sours at friendly distance you created as well as the stammering excuses that started pouring from your mouth. Logan’s hand eventually comes up in protest, putting a pause on you.

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Y/N. You two make a cute couple. I’m just happy Hugh Hefner over here finally found a good one.”

[iliketangerines]

hiii can i request something about jax?? havent seen much work about him hes soo 🤤

for hire

a/n: keeping things fluffy because i guess that vacation really took a lot out of me because i'm so exhausted every day lol

pairing: jackson briggs x gn!reader

warnings: none :)

Jax stares at you balancing the knife on the end of your finger, the sharp end on your finger, and you don’t turn your head his way

you’re sure you’ve seen him, knows you’ve seen him because how else would you be a for hire mercenary if you didn’t have eyes in the back of your head

Sonya stands next to Jax, scowling as you waste more of their time by balancing the knife on your hand

it’s perfectly still, not a single quiver in the metal as you concentrate on how it balances on the tip of your finger

Jax clears his throat, and you effortlessly flip the knife in your hand so that you grip the handle of it, turning your head to look at them with a smile on your face

you give them a friendly little wave, hopping off your seat and eying the both of them up and down, as if sizing the both of them up to see if they were up to par with you

Jax straightens his back and crosses his arms, sizing you up all the same, and you tilt your head at him, directing your full attention onto him

he asks if you know why they’re here, and you roll your eyes at him, saying that of course you know why you’re here, helping the OIA search for the Black Dragon in Outworld

Sonya says that you’re doing more than that, you’re helping guide them around Outworld since you’ve been there plenty of times for a few jobs

you squint your eyes at him, muttering something under your breath about losing your spark if the government could get ahold of information like that

you saunter on to the both of them, patting Jax on the shoulder, before saying that you hope that they packed light because it’s going to be a long journey

Jax glances over at Sonya before following you out of the compound you’d been waiting in and into the wilderness of the outside to whatever portal will take them to Outworld

it’s a long few days, trudging through the wilderness and getting all sorts of things stuck in his boots, but at the very least it had been informative and entertaining

informative in that the very many near death experiences he had and then you swooping in to save him showed that you were more capable than almost anyone he had ever met

entertaining in that you were great company, charming, funny, a sick and fucked-up sense of humor that say just right with Jax

the three of you sit around a campfire, you’re right next to Jax and even though the fire was hot, with your skin pressed into his, you were searing

Sonya was asleep, taking her rest while the two of you took watch, and you stare up into the night sky as you take a sip of your water

neither of speak, letting the sound of the animals fill the space between you two despite the closeness of your bodies

you were staring off into nothing before you turn to Jax, staring down at his metallic arms and looking back up at him before asking what was up with them

Jax snorts, wondering when you were finally going to ask, people always did, but he was surprised it took so long for you to ask

he just tells you he was stuck in an unfortunate mission that ripped off his arms, and you shrug your shoulders and accept the lackluster answer

silence fills the gap between you two, and the awkwardness is almost unbearable for him, glancing back down at you to see if you also seemed uncomfortable

you seem relaxed, completely unbothered by the lack of conversation, until you look back up at him and then snap your fingers together

you say you’ve nearly forgotten how to converse, having spent so much time alone as a mercenary, can’t have those other assassins trying to stab you in the back, literally

Jax says he wouldn’t do such a thing, though the money from your bounty does sound tempting, and you snort at his joke

you say that he earns enough money that he doesn’t need to take your head off and present it to earn that kind of money

besides, he was government, he would be hacked into pieces the second he stepped foot within a 500-mile radius to the criminal compound

Jax shakes his head and disagrees, but he knows you’re right, a light smile on his face a slight chuckle

you smile as you make him laugh, and you keep your eyes on him, tracing the features of his face and staring at him

he just stares right back at you, admiring how the fire lights up your features and how your eyes don’t even leave his for a second

you lean in for a second, as if trying to get a better look at his features, and Jax tilts towards you, letting your eyes explore him all you want

it’s silence between the two of you, charged with something beyond the relationship the two have now and something that could change the course of both of your lives

you two are so close that he’s sure you can smell his breath, how the scent of a cigar clings to his skin, and yet you don’t move away

Sonya stirs in the corner, throwing a jacket at Jax’s face and telling the two of you to stop making bedroom eyes at each other and focus on the mission

Jax turns his attention away from you and toward the fire, feeling the heat creeping into his cheeks, but all you do is give Sonya a playful pout before standing up letting her sit next to Jax and take you spot

you assume the place where she had been napping, and you draw the your jacket around you a little tighter before letting your chin dip down

your chest rises peacefully, slowly, but he knows that you’re only half-asleep, too wired and too experienced in the field to actually go into deep sleep

Sonya elbows Jax’s side, earning a slight grunt and a side eye from the man, and she warns him to not get in too deep with you

this was only a temporary alliance with you right now, and after the mission, you two would go right back to being on opposite sides

Jax purses his lips and looks back at your sleeping figure, how your fingers leave your weapon and how your lips look so plump in the warm light

he says that he knows, clamping his hands together as he stares

you’re just a mercenary for hire, and he worked for the government, it would never work

and yet, he still found himself drawn to you anyway, failings of a human heart he supposed

[meguwumibear]

brief follow up to this <- doesnt have to be read but it will provide additional context big thank you to the kind soul who took the time to comment on the og fic. you got me thinking about this megumi and world again tw omegaverse, noncon impact play (not detailed or described in depth)

The pack is communal. They share everything.

Responsibilities.

Meals.

Beds.

Even mates are shared from time to time. Especially during full moons when temperatures rise and spirits are high. Nothing here belongs to one wolf which means that everything here belongs to every wolf.

It’s a problem, then, when Megumi introduces you to the pack with the intent of keeping you all to himself.

Wolves take human mates from time to time, but the practice is rare. And no one in their right mind would do such a thing without running it by the pack master first. In many packs, the offending wolf would be banished for such behavior. If anyone other than Megumi would’ve pulled such a stunt, perhaps they would’ve been.

But, Megumi is different. Megumi is special.

It’s no secret he’s favored by the pack master and the pack master’s brother. When they were pups, Sukuna often scented him, boasting about how pretty Megumi was going to look with a claiming bite pressed into his flesh.

For a time, Megumi could picture it, could picture himself beneath Sukuna, pretty head empty of all thoughts, ass split open on Sukuna’s thick knot, neck purpling and stinging from the mating bite.

Megumi’s first rut shocked everyone. No one expected such a beautiful boy to present as an alpha. If proper protocol were followed, an older omega would have been brought before him to act as a guide and ease the transition.

But, it was Sukuna who helped Megumi through it, fisting the swollen knot formed at the tip of Megumi’s flushed, smooth cock. Swallowing load after load of Megumi’s warm, salty cum.

The two continued to share their ruts with each other, often forgoing both human and omega companions. Sukuna swore up and down that Megumi didn’t need such a thing, that the two of them were perfectly capable of satisfying each other’s sexual needs.

And, Megumi ate that shit up for a while. He believed he didn't need anyone else. He fucked around a few times just to see what it was like, but the humans cried too much and the omegas were so needy after. None of them smelled particularly enticing anyway.

None of them until you.

Sukuna hates you. He hates you more than the white-haired asshole he had to fight to earn his title. He hates you more than the poachers that stick their underdeveloped noses into his pack’s business. He hates you more than he has anyone ever before.

He hates you so much he resolves to kill you; the only problem with his plan is that Megumi never lets you out of his fucking sight.

It makes Sukuna’s stomach twist in disgust to see him handle you. To watch him press his engorged scent gland against your own, flat flesh. To feed you bite after bite of food he prepared specifically for you from his own, outstretched hand.

You’re fussy. Especially in the early days. Sukuna knows this takes a toll on Megumi. Precious thing wasn’t meant to provide in this way. Alpha or not Megumi has always flourished best under Sukuna’s own thumb.

The solution is a simple one; he offers to help Megumi break you in. The alpha is stubborn at first, insisting that he doesn’t need the help of his pack master, but little by little you wear him down. Megumi comes crawling back to Sukuna before the next shift, all but begging for his assistance.

Poor thing doesn’t have the stomach to discipline you properly. No matter. Sukuna doesn’t mind taking you over his knee. You cry through the whole thrashing, begging for Megumi to stop him, peppering him with your peas and apologies.

But Sukuna knows something you don’t; his nose detects something yours can’t.

Hidden beneath Megumi’s loose trousers is a hardening, leaking cock.

[capricornlevi]

bokuto x reader // sfw, gratuitous fluff, established relationship // wc 1.6k

planning birthdays is just one of bo's many talents <3

an: this is a little birthday present for my favourite bo stan in the entire world @brainrot329 ! she is a ray of sunshine and one of the best people i know and it is an honour to write a bo fic dedicated to this wonderful human !!!

you had never figured bokuto for much of a chef. you've been together for four years, lived together for two, and so you feel you know him pretty well by now -- the man has multitudes of talents, but preparing food is not one of them.

he has no trouble with eating, obviously, since pretty much every team barbeque ends with him being physically dragged away by a teammate or long-suffering coach, begging for someone else to be allowed their pick of the steaks.

but his appreciation for food does not extend to cooking or baking, shopping for ingredients or meal planning. his lack of culinary proficiency is not from any form of uselessness or incompetence -- he's good at pretty much anything he turns his hand to, plus the msby nutrition team supplies most of his meals anyway -- he just doesn't have much of an interest. which is more than fair; nobody can be expected to be good at everything.

but this is also why you find it to be very shocking that today, your birthday, he has offered to prepare you a four-course meal to mark the special occasion.

he had informed you of his plan this morning over pancakes at your favourite diner while you were mid-sip of coffee. as you smiled and expressed gratitude, you had to put in a copious amount of effort to prevent your jaw from dropping open and accidentally spitting coffee everywhere.

again, it's not that he's incapable of achieving this task. he’d likely be very capable should he puts his mind to it, but it's just ... this is his first time cooking. you don't attempt the tour de france before learning how to ride a bike, and you can't imagine that a four-course meal (with accompanying wines, he informs you) is the easiest introduction to the culinary arts.

but he seems certain, and the last thing you want to do is discourage this newfound enthusiasm.

the rest of the day was spent out with friends and family as bo headed home to get everything ready. he didn't give many hints as to what the rest of the evening would entail, but he did say that he knew you'd love it.

(and you will; regardless of the final product, you can see how much effort he's put in. you just hope you won't arrive home to the scent of singed hair and an eyebrow-less bokuto standing forlorn in the kitchen.)

when your college friends took you out for cocktails in the early hours of the evening, you stuck to just two margaritas so as not to take away from the rest of the night. they dropped you back home with gifts in hand and plans to meet up again next week to get your nails done – a strange suggestion since you haven’t gone to the salon as a group in years, but you wave it off. 

now, standing at your doorstep, you take a deep breath before twisting the handle and letting yourself in.

the place smells ... nice. really nice. it's a medley of scents from multiple dishes but they all come together to paint a very positive picture; hints of citrus, the buttery aroma of your favourite pasta sauce, something sweet you vaguely recognise as being your grandmother's french vanilla cake recipe.

suddenly overcome with a sense of awe and burning anticipation, you make a beeline for the kitchen.

you find everything in it to be clean, perfectly presented, except for bokuto himself. he stands by the countertop, spatula in hand, covered with a light dusting of flour and with a scorch mark on his light-blue shirt.

"never promised it'd go completely without a hitch, did i?" he grins, expression as close to bashful as you've seen it. setting down the utensils and dusting himself off with a kitchen towel, he closes the distance to take your hand, guiding you to your seat at the table. with a professional flourish he pours you a glass of sparkling wine, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head once you've sat down.

"you enjoy that while i go change," he mumbles against your hair, "and i’ll also make sure I'm not still smouldering."

you laugh as he walks away, heart swelling in your chest as you survey the space around you.

he's bought a bouquet of your favourite flowers from that little old florist who lives three doors down from your apartment, the one whose displays you always admire when you head out to work in the mornings. he has your favourite album playing on vinyl, the low reverberations of the music filling the candle-lit kitchen.

distantly, you wonder if bo's fire incident came from the cooking or the decoration.

but before you have much time to consider, he's arrived back in the kitchen with a fresh shirt and almost-tamed hair, paired with that signature bo smile that lights up all of his features.

"ready for course number one?" he exclaims, clapping his hands together as he heads over to the counter space. once you voice your assent he produces two dishes as if from nowhere, heading over to the table and setting yours down in front of you.

you find yourself looking down at a perfectly presented salad, crisp leaves and a citrus dressing that reminds you exactly of the one you had --

"on our first date!" you burst out before even taking a bite. "this is the salad from that bistro by college!"

the bistro where he had taken you after finally mustering up the courage to ask, waiting until after you both had graduated to make his move. you're still not sure why he was so anxious since your class had no qualms about intra-departmental fraternisation, but you're just glad he went for it eventually.

he nods, clearly relieved you picked up on the connection.

the salad is wonderful, a light and refreshing starter for the evening, and you inform him as much.

your response clearly encourages him. he gets up again to start heating the next dish, pouring you a glass of wine beforehand for you to nurse while he gets things ready.

this time, he presents you with a bowl of soup. the same type of soup ...

"that you made for me that time i got the flu!" he informs you this time, voice achingly fond as he watches for your reaction. "and no word of a lie -- it cured me."

his earnestness draws another laugh from you, the soothing smell of herbs and vegetables bringing you back to that afternoon.

you had never seen bo so sick before and you haven't seen it since. with the combination of his healthy approach to life and sheer stubbornness to remain top of his game, he ends up avoiding most illnesses, and so when he called his coach to inform him he wouldn't be making 8am practice, you knew things were serious.

he ran a temperature, cheeks flushing an adorable shade of pink that you would have appreciated more were he not suffering, and had started shivering by noon.

"you need to keep your strength up," you had whispered softly to him, setting a glass of water down at his bedside and perching yourself on the edge, watching as he slowly started eating the soup. it was difficult with a sore throat but he managed to polish the whole thing off.

that soup was the only thing he could stomach for forty-eight hours, eating it for every meal until his shivering subsided and his muscles stopped aching.

it's one of the few dishes he knew how to prepare before tonight, since he insists on making it with you whenever either one of you starts to show any signs of impending sniffles.

once the soup has been finished and cleared away, the third course is presented with another glass of wine and near-giddy smile from bo. just as you had guessed from the hallway, he serves up your favourite pasta dish, the recipe having been scribbled down on a napkin after the chef from the aforementioned first-date bistro was kind enough to let you have it. 

bo managed to replicate it perfectly, albeit not without slightly singeing the accompanying garlic bread (explaining the scorch mark on his shirt).

as you take your first bite, you realise that he was right earlier when he promised that you'd love this.

it wasn't that the food was michelin quality (though it was undoubtedly delicious, especially for a first-timer) -- it was the thought that went into every dish, every ingredient, every element. the effort that went into telling a story with each course.

you've never felt as loved as you do in this moment.

that is, until he brings out dessert in the form of your grandmother's french vanilla cake. it’s been frosted to the best of bokuto's ability, with 'happy birthday my love!' edged in pink font and surrounded by flickering candles.

there's also a design under the words. a little shape, something you can't see without squinting.

he carries it over to you proudly, though with a slight tremble in his hands you can't quite understand ...

after blowing out the candles, you lean in to examine the cake closer.

it takes a few seconds for it to land, to determine what bo attempted to draw in icing format, but once it hits you ...

"is that a ring?"

your heart pounds in your chest, each word leaving your lips in a flurry as you try to gauge whether or not your exhilaration is merited.

and in lieu of an answer, bo sets the cake on the table before getting down on one knee, producing a velvet-bound ring box from the pocket of his new shirt.

[madelynhimegami]

Raffina Guide

Things've been pretty eventful for me the past several days, so this took a tad longer to finish it. But now finished it is. I believe there's just Schezo left, and then it'll be left up to me who goes next, pending a request for anybody specific.

Raffina is a firm believer in hard work and diligence.

That naturally involves physical training and maintaining her appearance, but it also includes her studies.

Raffina has the second-highest grades of the main Primp kids' year, second only to Klug.

Despite that, she used to call Amitie her rival instead of Klug, because at the time she believed that Amitie succeeded-- especially where magic is concerned-- through talent instead of working her ass off. Which to Raffina is personally insulting.

Nowadays, Raffina acknowledges that her friends from school (even if she is very reluctant to describe them as such) are also trying to do their best, in their own way. And yes, that includes Klug, too.

Raffina genuinely does respect Klug for his efforts at his studies. He earned the top spot and is continuing to defend it, despite her efforts.

Raffina also considers Klug to be an anchor of sorts. The mere image of Klug chastising her for falling prey to an illusion was enough for her to recognize it and break out.

She would actually greatly appreciate it if Klug respected her back.

Unfortunately, Klug still finds the need to push Raffina's buttons because of his own inferiority complex (but that's the last post).

As mentioned in said last post, Raffina tends to think similarly to Klug, to the point that their dialogue mirrors each other sometimes.

Raffina is haughty, sometimes arrogant, but she's also proud. She doesn't put on false airs and does not stoop to anything beneath her.

She also has very little patience for those that do put on airs. Or silly behavior in general, for that matter.

Really, she's not a very patient person. She gets aggravated easily and lashes out at the source(s) of her annoyance when pushed.

For the most part, Raffina attempts to speak formally and politely. But she slips out of that kind of speech when she gets provoked or worked up and instead becomes rude.

A running gag of hers (moreso in Japanese than English) is that she'll notice too late that she wasn't being polite and will hastily append a more formal ending to her sentence after the fact. The English equivalent would be like if she said "Shut the fuuuu-- fudge up!"

Raffina's family has a history of excellent magic proficiency-- a reputation continued by her two older sisters.

She's sensitive about her lack of magic, and gets very cross very quickly by even passing comments.

Any mention of how she uses her bag to make up for said lack of magic immediately activates her fight-or-flight instinct.

Raffina is perfectly willing to try new things if it helps her become stronger, prettier, or even more capable.

Her beauty routine is just as thorough as her excercise routine.

Her diet, meanwhile, seems to consist almost entirely of protein. Or at least her school lunches do. Ham, bacon, sausage, roast beef, eggs, etc.

Even if she tries to avoid them, she is very much tempted by sweets. She tries to hide it, but she's been seen trying to cut a bargain on cake.

Which leads to something else: while her family may be wealthy, Raffina herself does not seem to have all that much.

She is eager for chances to gain money, jewelry, land, or political power.

Raffina is sapphic. No, that's not a headcanon. Whether she's bi or gay (with internalized comphet) is still up for debate, but there's really no heterosexual explanation for dreaming about multiple girls around your age approaching you in succession to confess romantic feelings.

(What is a headcanon, specifically mine, is that she admires Rulue as the older sister she wanted but didn't grow up with)

Though Raffina claims to not be afraid of anything, she doesn't seem to handle dogs very well. Or at least is nervous around Baldanders.

And of course, she's scared of having the secret of her bag becoming known.

Among other feats of strength, Raffina is capable of lifting a boulder with her bare hands (but not uprooting a large tree)

[cowgurrrl]

Love the writing! Could I please request baby!Miller first steps and Joel just melting?

Thank you for the request and your sweet words!! Here’s Charlie girl taking her first steps 🥹

Never Grow Up

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summary: “Why did I decide to walk in the kitchen?” “Maybe you just saw something you wanted.” aka this ask

Author’s note: oh my little Look for the Light verse how I missed you

Warnings: parental anxiety, Joel being a softie, Ellie being the worlds best big sister

Sarah took her first steps the day after her first birthday, deciding that she officially had to be one before she could hit her milestone. Jane took her first steps about a month before she turned one. She was tired of waiting for someone to pick her up so she could get somewhere, ever a woman on a mission, even as a toddler. But Charlie, Charlie turned one a month ago and still hasn't shown any interest in trying to walk. And it's not for lack of trying. You, Ellie, and Joel all take turns holding her chubby little hands and guiding her feet across the floor, which she's perfectly content with until you let go. Then, she plops back down on the floor and scootches to wherever she wants to be.

"I just don't get it," you say to Joel one night as you get ready for bed. He sighs as he hangs up his jacket in the closet. "I mean, do you think something's wrong? Should we take her to the doctor?"

"Every kid is gonna hit their milestones at a different time. She's just takin' a little longer, that's all."

"How do you know?" You ask. He takes a deep breath before walking over to you and cupping your face in his hands. His thumbs swipe soothing lines across your cheekbones, and you let yourself relax into him.

"Because you're her mama and one of the most capable people I know. She's got your good genes," he says as he kisses your forehead, and you laugh a little bit. You breathe him in, the smell of pine and the lavender detergent you use to wash the clothes surrounding you. The house is silent as you stand in your shared room, your anxieties misfiring against the old wood. "She's gonna be fine."

"And if she's not?"

"Then, we'll handle it."

You agree to give it one more month. If she doesn't walk in another month, you'll take her to the doctor. In the meantime, you try to let it go. You let her scoot around the house and try not to get too excited when she pulls herself to her feet. You have a feeling that she can sense whenever you're expecting her to do something, the baited anticipation too much for her little brain to comprehend. It may be silly, but you know your kid. You know how she operates.

Ellie likes to lie on the floor with Charlie, and she gives her a step-by-step guide on how to get on her feet and take a few steps. "It's not that hard! Just watch," Ellie coaches as Charlie watches her with curious eyes. You wish you had a camera to record Ellie crawling on her hands and knees before gaining her balance, standing, and walking while explaining its mechanics. You laugh when Charlie just burps and crawls to you, lifting her arms to be picked up. "I hate to say it, but I think she may have gotten Joel's thick skull."

"She'll figure it out," you say as you kiss Charlie's cheek and bring her into the kitchen. As the weeks fly by and Charlie still refuses to walk, you try to bury your worry in your patrols. You do your best to keep Jackson safe so that Charlie can feel protected enough to take her first steps. Or that's what your logic is, at least.

On the last day of the month, you stomp snow out of your work boots outside the front door before entering your warm house. There's a fire going in the fireplace, and the promise of a warm meal greets you when you walk in the door. Joel and Ellie shout from the kitchen, followed by a very excited, "Mama!" You smile and shrug out of your jacket, ready to attack your favorite people with kisses, when Charlie scoots out to the hallway.

"What's up, Charlie girl?" You ask as you hang up your coat next to the front door. Then, without warning or preparation, Charlie plants her feet under her and stands. You freeze, and Charlie looks at you, and for a second, you swear you can read her mind. "It's okay, baby. Mama's right here for you. I won't let you get hurt, okay?" You say, crouching down and opening your arms. Joel and Ellie hear you and look confused as they step into the hallway and see Charlie standing. You think the whole world stops as she takes one step. Then another. And another until she's across the room and in your arms. You pick her up and spin her around, deliriously happy giggles leaving you as you kiss her face. "You did it, baby girl! You walked!"

"Yay, Charlie!" Ellie says as she rushes over to join in your celebration. Charlie laughs as Ellie tickles her belly and kisses her cheeks. You glance at Joel and see tears glistening in his eyes. You hold your hand out to him and take a shaky breath as he walks over, wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing your forehead.

"This is good, baby. Why are you crying?" You ask, and he shakes his head.

"She's gettin' so big." He says, his voice cracking, and you have to fight the urge to laugh because this is what you've both wanted for so long, and now that it's happened, he wants her to be a newborn again. You let Ellie slip Charlie out of your arms and hug Joel tightly. Because, of course, after years of being tough and broody, the thing to send him over the edge is watching his youngest daughter walk toward the love of his life for the first time.

[cloudcountry]

If it's no problem can I request headcanons or a one shot of Rooks crush (or s/o) asking him to teach them archery. Do they want to learn archery? yes. Is it also an excuse to hang out with him? also yes

SUMMARY: You want to learn archery, which is the perfect excuse to hang out with Rook Hunt.

WARNINGS: None!!

COMMENTS: THIS IS SO CUTE I LOVE THIS REQUEST!! also, personal headcanon that is canon to me: rook makes his own bows.

i kinda left it vague? but there's a little smoochie HEHE

He’s intrigued by your proposition. Most wouldn’t approach him with such a request—and nobody even has until now. You’re an interesting case indeed, and your curiosity makes you beautiful.

He agrees to teach you, positively elated at the thought of seeing a novice archer attempt to handle a bow. It would be beautiful to see you struggle, only to overcome it at his instruction. Oh, to be the one guiding you would be simply delightful!

He lets you set the date and times for your first lesson, and thinks about it until that day comes. He’s smiling a wide, closed eyed smile when you meet him out in the fields of NRC, where he already has multiple targets set up for you. You can ask him how he got permission, how he managed to do this, but all he’ll give you is a cryptic laugh. This is for you to enjoy, Trickster! 

You gape at the selection of bows he’s set out for you to choose from—there are longer ones and more delicate ones, ones made from different types of wood and ones with different details carved into the wood. Rook watches excitedly as you examine each one, clearly making your choice carefully. It’s endearing to see you enraptured.

Once you make your choice, he claps his hands and compliments you on your marvelous selection. He waits until then to drop the bomb—that being, he made all of these bows himself, right down to the handhold you’re gripping right now.

Please, do praise him! Tell him how lovely the bow feels! Compliment the details! His chest will be puffed up and he’ll be melting at your affection!! Plus, it will make him even more inclined to position your hands with his own...a hunter never misses an opportunity to close in on their prey, after all.

His black gloves are warm against you as he moves your arms, having soaked in the sunlight from above. He adjusts your fingers one by one on the hand hold and helps you pull the string taut, a gesture that is very unnecessary since you’re perfectly capable of doing it yourself, but you definitely don’t mind so you don’t complain.

It takes you a few tries to actually fire the arrow successfully, and while it totally misses the target you still throw your hands in the air in celebration and thank Rook profusely. He chuckles and pats your shoulder, saying that you’re not quite done yet.

Of course, he keeps you there until you manage to hit the target. He helps you along the way, but now that you’ve learned to shoot successfully he’s been keeping his hands to himself. It’s rather disappointing, you think, but you try to focus nonetheless.

It’s when the sun is dipping beneath the horizon and your arms are dead tired that you fall into Rook’s arms, hugging him tightly as you thank him for the day. His smile is soft as he hugs you back, and the kiss he presses to your temple is met with a soft giggle and a squeeze from you.