#there will always be things --even minor things-- that will have to be different

[thankskenpenders]

Thoughts on two specific areas of the writing in Sonic X Shadow Generations

The best new 3D Sonic game in over a decade (or even two, depending on who you ask) dropped late last year. And I didn't write anything about it! Sometimes life happens. Well, I've finally sat down to finish Shadow Generations, and by now everyone has already been singing its praises for three months. This is the rare instance where the entire Sonic fandom, and even mainstream reviewers, are in agreement on something. The level design is the best it's been in a long, long time and the cool factor is off the charts, embracing Sonic's peak cringe era in an incredibly confident way. It's great. If you're even reading this post, you probably don't need me to tell you that. So I won't!

No, what I'm really interested in here is the writing. Because this is me we're talking about. But I actually don't want to talk about the main narrative of Shadow Generations, which is really solid little story about Black Doom trying to mold Shadow into his perfect soldier. No, I'd like to zero in on two other aspects of the writing here: the revisions made to Sonic Generations, and Gerald Robotnik's unlockable journal.

The updated Sonic Generations script

The new package mostly presents Sonic Generations how you remember it. There are some tweaks, but it's not a major overhaul. Graphically, I don't think the game has been touched much, if at all. I certainly can't notice any difference without a side-by-side comparison, despite playing it on a PS5. The most notable update is that the game's script has been rewritten by Ian Flynn.

Naturally, this caught my attention. Generations always had a nothingburger story, so with Ian rewriting Pontac and Graff's lame dialogue there was nowhere to go but up. (I don't like to pin the blame for those games' stories entirely on them, as a ton of it was dictated to them by Sonic Team, but, well, I don't think they're very good dialogue writers.) But it's less a complete rewrite and more like Ian was brought on as a script doctor for some minor touch ups here and there. Many lines of dialogue are completely identical to how they were originally written in 2011, and many others only have slight wording changes. Ian was clearly not allowed to request additional scenes or extend the ones that already existed. He has to match the original beat for beat so that they can reuse 99% of the cutscene animations. Don't expect it to be a whole new experience compared to the original.

Still, I think the new script is an improvement, albeit a minor one. Various things have been tweaked to maintain characterization consistency. Cream calls Sonic "Mr. Sonic" instead of just "Sonic." Instead of calling Sonic "buddy," Rouge uses the pet name "Blue," like she tends to do in things like the IDW comics. Espio doesn't have to remind you in the dialogue that he's a ninja, and he no longer has a line making it sound like he has some kind of soul reading power. I also like that Modern Sonic now actually has responses to what his friends say when he rescues them, rather than being silent like Classic Sonic. They won't blow you away, but they make Sonic feel a little more engaged with everything.

In general, the altered dialogue just seems tighter to me, and some of the more childish or trite wording of Pontac and Graff's script has been altered. Here, let's actually make a direct comparison, just because this stuff is interesting to me as a writer. Here's a couple lines from after the Egg Dragoon fight late in the game, in the original script:

Modern Eggman: Ooooh... I can't believe this! I was supposed to beat you this time. Modern Sonic: Aw, I'm sorry! I didn't get that memo. I beat you every time! [Turns to Classic Sonic] No, seriously, we beat this guy every time. It's like it's our job or something!

This is a simple exchange. Eggman is mad that he lost. Sonic is unflappably confident because he always beats Eggman, and he explains this to his younger self. But the wording here isn't particularly good. Eggman's simple and direct wording makes him come off like a little kid who's mad because his older brother beat him at Mario Kart, rather than a mad scientist who just had his plans foiled. It's making light of the situation.

And I've never liked Sonic saying "It's like it's our job or something!" That doesn't feel like a thing Sonic would say, it feels like a thing an outside observer would say about Sonic. This is a frequent problem with so-called "MCU dialogue," where quips meant to echo the commentary of a casual, somewhat disinterested audience are inserted into the story itself so that the writers can be like "See? We get it. We're genre-savvy, too!" It also just reminds me of bad Sonic Boom: Rise of Lyric lines like "Rings! It's like they're made for me!"

And then here's Ian's rewrite:

Modern Eggman: I recalibrated everything! This was supposed to be my time! Modern Sonic: Oh, please, keep dreamin', Egg-head. I beat you every time. [Turns to Classic Sonic] No, seriously, we beat him every time. Our score card's flawless.

Eggman's still mad about his defeat, but the line "I recalibrated everything!" makes it more specific. He put all this work into the engineering side of his latest scheme and got tunnel vision, thinking if he got his creations just right there'd be no way he could lose. "This was supposed to be my time!" also turns it into a time travel pun, which is a bonus. He's still pitching a fit over losing, but it feels more like Eggman pitching a fit, rather than sounding childish.

And then instead of saying that beating Eggman is "like his job or something," Sonic says he's got a flawless score card against Eggman. He doesn't take Eggman seriously as a threat—at least, not to his face. He acts like it's all a game. But he conveys this in a way that feels truer to the character, rather than feeling like the words of a real world observer poking fun at the tropes of the Sonic series.

Is this amazing, A+ dialogue that blows me away? No. Again, it's not a completely different scene from the one we already had. Ian had to fit the beats of what was already there. He couldn't go all out and write an all new story confirming his longstanding headcanon that the Time Eater is a remnant of Solaris or whatever. But the wording here makes the existing story land a little better and feel truer to the characters in subtle ways.

But to me, the main change is that the Sonics and Tailses seem to have a more solid understanding of what's going on with the timeline and the Time Eater, compared to how idiotic they sometimes seemed in the original game. Which is good! No more standing outside Green Hill and wondering why it seems so familiar. Thank god. As part of this, yes, there are a few more references to past games in the dialogue, like Sonic briefly being confused about the fact that they're time traveling without the Time Stones, or South Island and Westside Island being acknowledged as the normal locations of Green Hill and Chemical Plant. Yes, ha ha, insert joke about how Ian loves references here. Look, it's Sonic fucking Generations. It's a game built entirely out of nostalgic references. Just own it! And, again, in this instance Sonic and Tails come off as less stupid when they make it clear that they do, in fact, remember their adventures from presumably less than a year ago in-universe.

Eggman, too, seems to have a better understanding of the powers he's toying with. Where in the original vesion his focus was simply on going back in time to undo his previous defeats and he seemed kind of oblivious to how much the Time Eater was actually fucking up the universe, here Eggman says he wants to use the Time Eater to give himself complete control over the entire timeline. Eggman also makes way fewer references to his own failures and shortcomings. Of course he won't admit that Sonic has defeated him time and time again. To him, he's never truly lost—Sonic just keeps delaying the inevitable total victory for the Eggman Empire.

So, yes. The new Sonic Generations script is better. It won't blow anyone away, but it's better than it was. It's been elevated from "kinda lame" to "fine." No, if you really wanna see Ian flex his ability to breathe new life into old Sonic stories, look no further than...

Gerald Robotnik's Journal

Hoo boy.

The story of what happened aboard the ARK has always been... a bit confusing, to say the least. Fans with encyclopedic knowledge of the script for every route of Shadow '05 may disagree, but it's the truth. We've had all the pieces to understand the story for a long time now, but that info was given to us out of order by a pair of unreliable narrators—Gerald, who became a vengeful lunatic shortly before his death, and Shadow, who was subjected to multiple rounds of amnesia and altered memories. Some of the ambiguity left by Sonic Adventure 2 was cleared up in Shadow '05, but that game also retconned in a bunch of new elements to Shadow's backstory (aliens!) that lead to further confusion. Not to mention the fact that that game had multiple routes and only revealed the truth about Shadow if you sat on the ultimate final boss battle for WAY longer than the fight would normally last. Or the fact that Sonic X made its own tweaks in its telling of the story. Or the fact that none of these things ever had the best English translations. I can't blame anyone who hasn't played those games in two decades for not remembering the truth about these characters and getting some details mixed up.

What we needed was something to piece together all of the info we have into one coherent backstory, told in chronological order. And thanks to Shadow Generations, we have that, in the form of an official journal tying together what we knew from Sonic Adventure 2, Shadow '05, and Sonic Battle into the tragic tale of Gerald's rise and fall.

Ian Flynn was the perfect man for the job here as the guy who started his career by tidying up the mess that was the first 159 issues if Archie Sonic. This is what he excels at: taking disparate bits of weird Sonic lore from multiple different sources, boiling them down to their most interesting elements, and connecting it together in a way that will make the audience see the dramatic potential he's always known was there. Rather than feeling like a cynical exercise in franchise building, going back and explaining things that never needed explaining so that people can add more bullet points to the wiki, he puts a new spin on things that retroactively enriches those past stories. The story here means something to the characters involved and gives us a better understanding of them as people, rather than as plot devices to motivate Shadow.

(And, of course, Ian didn't do this journal alone. He wrote the story, but I also have to give a huge shout out to Evan Stanley, who made the final product. All of her handwritten journal entries, sketches, and "photos" included throughout. The physical damage done to the journal over the course of 50 tumultuous years, passing from Gerald to Eggman to a certain special someone at GUN. The way Gerald's handwriting gets less and less legible as his mental state declines. So much love was put into what could have been a mere text dump in a menu, and it really elevates it to the next level. Congrats on officially getting hired by Sega, Evan, you've sure as hell earned it!)

The main idea the journal conveys is that Gerald was under a lot of pressure from a lot of different parties—GUN, the President, his colleagues aboard the ARK, Black Doom, even his own family—and boy did it get to him. The known incidents aboard the ARK mentioned in previous games are put together here to form a story where everything slowly spirals out of control as Gerald keeps compromising his morals to further his research, thinking he'll eventually find some way out of all this because he's a genius. I won't recap that whole story here (if you haven't already played the game and read the journal entries, I would highly recommend at least reading it on the Sonic wiki), but I'd like to highlight my favorite elements of the story, as Ian tells it here.

1) The Eclipse Cannon

Here's something that never quite made sense in Sonic Adventure 2: why does the ARK have a laser that can blow up the Earth built into it? It was supposed to be a peaceful research colony. Sure, Gerald went crazy and swore revenge on the Earth, but, like... when did he have an opportunity to go back up to the ARK and modify it? Did he have someone else do it? How? The ARK was raided by GUN and shut down! And then they arrested him, held him in prison for an unclear period of time, and executed him by firing squad when he was no longer useful! It doesn't add up. Shadow 'the Hedgehog '05 would give its own answer by introducing the Black Arms and saying that the Eclipse Cannon was always supposed to be a secret trump card against the Black Comet. But, like... we know that's kind of a bullshit answer, right? You don't need enough power to blow up a whole planet just to destroy a comet.

Well, the new journal retains what we already knew, but it paints a much more complete picture.

See, long before Gerald ever made a Faustian bargain with Black Doom, he had already made one with an even greater evil: the military. GUN gave Gerald much of the funding for the ARK, Gerald's personal utopian research station in space, but it didn't take long for GUN to start pressuring him to design them weapons. Gerald tried to get GUN off his back by personally contacting the President of the United Federation, and the President gave him an alternative: how about, instead, you just use your genius brain to figure out the secret to immortality for us, so our soldiers can be immortal? Gerald was initially sickened by the notion and found it completely absurd, like chasing a shadow... but given no other option, the sarcastically named Project Shadow soon began in earnest. (Maria would later put a more positive spin on the name after Shadow's awakening, pointing out that a Shadow can show us the direction of the light, like she says in the game itself.)

Of course, this search for the ultimate life form didn't go very well, and without any results on that front GUN kept hounding him for weapons. Gerald would throw them a bone here and there to get them off his back. His research on Chaos resulted in the Artifical Chaos prototypes, which he worried would be used for warfare but could at least theoretically be used for search and rescue missions in floods, in his mind. But that wasn't enough. So he gave them Chaos Drives to power their mechs. And that still wasn't enough. He's got Emerl. He'll give them Emerl. They're not impressed by Emerl. They'll shut the whole ARK down if Gerald doesn't give them something big.

Fine! GUN wants something big? Gerald builds a huge fucking laser cannon into the ARK. However, as a middle finger to GUN, Gerald makes it so powerful that it would destroy the Earth if it was ever fired at any target on its surface. In other words, GUN now has their ultimate weapon of mass destruction, fulfilling his contract, but they can never actually use it. Oh, the delicious irony. (And also Shadow will blow up the Black Comet with it in 50 years yada yada yada.) Is this perhaps extremely shortsighted and naive of Gerald, to believe that such a weapon would never actually be used just because of the risk? Of course. But hey, that's Gerald for you. And I love this as an answer.

(Also, this, uh, kinda echoes something from real life! Remember the bit in Oppenheimer where he says all nuclear war will become unthinkable, and Edward Teller responds "until somebody builds a bigger bomb"? Yeah, Teller went on to conceptualize a superweapon codenamed Project Sundial that would have been able to kill all life on the planet, as the ultimate deterrent for war. This was never made for obvious reasons, but hey, there's a basis for this sort of thinking outside of heightened sci-fi! There's a whole Kurzgesagt video about this if you're interested.)

2) The Biolizard

The Biolizard is, of course, brought up as the initial failed prototype of the ultimate life form, from before Gerald met Black Doom. We don't really learn all that much about it that we didn't already know, but I just love the way it's framed in the story.

As you can see above, we actually get to see a picture of Maria holding up the cute little salamander that would end up mutating into the Biolizard through Gerald's experiments. (Researchers want to figure out how to replicate salamanders' regenerative abilities for humans in real life, too, so this was a natural starting point for the project.) And then, after it grows to a monstrous size and goes out of control, Gerald has to lock it away in an unused sector of the ARK. He needs to keep the poor thing alive for his research into harnessing Chaos Energy, building life support systems directly into it, but he doesn't have the heart to tell Maria what happened. So it just becomes this first dark secret weighing on his conscience. The Biolizard becomes Gerald's Tell-Tale Heart beating beneath the floorboards of the ARK. I love that.

3) Lost Impact was the breaking point for the ARK

Remember the level Lost Impact in Shadow '05? The flashback level on the hero path where Shadow is running around fighting Artificial Chaos enemies on the ARK 50 years ago? Yeah, that wasn't just a random incident. That was important, as we now know due to its placement on the timeline.

See, Emerl's rampage aboard the ARK that was chronicled in Sonic Battle and Dark Beginnings set off a domino effect. Emerl riled up the Artificial Chaos, causing Gerald to lose control of them. They became violent, and so Shadow had to stop them, as depicted in Lost Impact. The thing is, that incident sent an SOS signal to GUN telling them that shit was going down on the ARK. Gerald didsn't fully understand the trouble he was in and assumed that he'd simply be reprimanded by the higher ups, or maybe face legal action. But, well... the next time he heard from GUN, armed troopers were raiding the ARK.

So Lost Impact was the straw that broke the camel's back. I just really like that detail.

4) Maria

And, of course, there's Maria herself. Maria has often been more of a symbol than a character, this perfect embodiment of everything that's good and pure in this world who gets killed to motivate Shadow and Gerald's revenge plots. But I really like the wrinkles this journal adds to her and Gerald's story, and their relationship. This is the most fleshed out they've ever felt.

For one, the journal leans into the idea of Maria's intellectual potential. The rest of the Robotnik family is all geniuses, after all, and she was proving to be a really bright kid. She excelled in her studies on the ARK, and she even helped design Shadow's jet skates and inhibitor rings. When Maria died, the world didn't just lose a symbolic personification of purity. She genuinely could have been a hugely influential scientist who did so much good for the world. That's what Gerald wanted for her. But we'll never know, because GUN killed her.

Speaking of her family, their presence isn't just mentioned for the sake of fleshing out the Robotnik family tree. It's mentioned that as Gerald struggled to find a cure for Maria's illness through his genetic research, he faced mounting pressure from his family. They didn't want Maria to be up on the ARK forever. They wanted Gerald to hurry up and find a damn cure, or otherwise just send her back home to Earth so she could be with her family again. She'd been up on the ARK for so long that Gerald's coworkers started thinking that she had been born up there. Eventually she gains a baby sister on Earth who she's never met. A rift forms between Gerald's two sons, and he's unable to really deal with it because he's so consumed by his work. There's this sense that the family is falling apart, and that everyone is dreading the possibility that Gerald will never find a cure and that Maria will just spend her final years up in space and die far away from her family, because Gerald just couldn't let go. If that happens, it'll break the whole family. But he can't stop now. So he just keeps working. Curing Maria is the only way to win his family back, in his eyes. It can't all be for nothing.

But my favorite detail regarding Maria is this one paragraph:

Maria is growing into a lovely young woman. It breaks my heart that someone as bright and energetic as her is diminished by disease. There are no visible effects, and I've caught my fellow researchers muttering to each other, doubting her illness. It is infuriating. I find all my reason and restraint vanishes when she's slighted.

This is SUCH a great addition to the story! It's always been true that Maria doesn't really seem all that ill, just looking at her in cutscenes. With this one little comment, Ian flips that issue on its head and turns it into a story about invisible disability. She doesn't act like she's in chronic pain, so she must not be, everyone thinks. And this really, really gets to Gerald, as does the pressure from his family. He's dedicating his whole LIFE to saving her, and they think she's faking it?! It's such a small addition, never referenced elsewhere in the journal, but it adds so much flavor to the story, as does the implied family drama. It grounds Gerald and Maria and makes them feel more like real human beings, rather than being pure archetypes. It's just enough info to let my imagination run wild filling in the blanks.

You also get the feeling that Maria being such a walking ray of sunshine was the only real source of joy Gerald had left in his life before Shadow was awakened, and the only thing keeping him from snapping under pressure sooner. All this stuff just keeps piling on, everything's spiraling out of control, but at least Maria is keeping her chin up, right? It makes so much sense that losing her would make him go off the deep end when it's framed like this.

It's just... man, I never thought I'd care so much about Gerald and Maria. But that's the Ian Flynn touch. After years of less than stellar Sonic writing that seemed to be embarrassed of itself, I'm so happy to have new games coming out that fully embrace the history of the series like this, making its world feel so rich and real instead of just serving as an excuse for a string of platforming levels. I don't even like Shadow '05, but I'll be damned if Ian and the rest of Sonic Team didn't make something amazing by "yes, and"-ing Shadow's cringe past here. Sonic has truly reached levels of "we're so back" never thought possible.

[dilf-docs]

So Is it Your Place Or Mine?

bfd!joel miller x younger!reader

summary: summer is over, but your affair with joel isn't (or, you grind on joel's belt buckle while sarah is at soccer practice)

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., exhibition kink (sarah is again a victim of this), brat taming (this two are soo into it), degradation kink, praise kink, lwk breeding kink, daddy kink (wow! it's a whole library of alexandria of kinks in here), fingering, dad bod!joel (best joel you mean), angst (oh guys look oh no it's alr starting), dirty talk!!!!! (they're so dirty ew i want it too wait who said that)

word count: 3,701 words

side note: and it became officially a series. hope u all are into this as much as i am because it's my first series ever !!!!! ALSO angst finally makes it way in this mess LET'S GO (i'mcrying i really looked up big texas belt to come up with a mental image in the middle of class, i'm so sorry to whoever sat behind me but idc abt me writing smut while at uni; we die like real men)

part: prev | masterlist | next

"What do you mean you're not coming?"

It's been an unspoken rule that, even if you hate sports and the ball stays ten meters away from you, you always come to Sarah's soccer practice, cheering for her from your usual spot at the benches.

Except today, you aren't there. And now Sarah is calling you when she shouldn't, but that she doesn't know.

"I can't. I have stuff to work on stuff"

Bullshit.

Your laptop and the half-written essay sit untouched at the coffee table. The thing being touched in question, is something entirely different.

"Need help?"

His hands grip any free spot of your glistening skin, sucking on the rosy pink until it turns maroon red.

"I'm at my dorm, sorry"

Double bullshit.

Sarah doesn't even know your car is parked next to her dad's truck. She has about four hours to find out.

"I can drop by later then" she suggests.

His hot breath tingles against your neck as his nose caresses the spot. Bad girl, he mouths, like he wasn't the one who told you to pick up, despite his daughter's name on the caller's ID. You try to reach for a kiss, but his digits press on your hair, pulling you back with violence to forbid your lips from touching his. Bad girl, and your arousal drips with more intensity at the remark. Bad girl.

"No!" the answer comes quick, your voice strained, and Sarah jokes that you should take it easy with your classes, instead of suspecting anything else.

"Fine! I won't go if you don't want me to, but if you show up dead by stress, I'll be free of guilt"

He kisses the outline of your jaw with sloppy movements, like he just wants to busy himself while Sarah blabbers about the practice, and you keep trying to make her stop, but she tells you not to worry, that she's on a break right now, and the task to avoid whimpering at his rough kisses across your neck becomes increasingly difficult. A gasp escapes your lips when his teeth sink into your flesh. Mine, not to be said but to be felt. Seen by the rest. A pretty red that tastes like the blood he craves, the hunger akin to violence. Bad girl, and he's biting your lip to stop any other filthy noises from escaping. What if she hears?

"Are you okay?" concern laced on Sarah's tone. Guilt creeps through the cracks of the worn-out paint of his bedroom, one your friend had practically begged him to restore; the joke of it all was that was about his job yet he couldn't fix his own goddamn house. "Y/n, did you hurt yourself?"

I'm treating you well, ain't I, doll? and then he'd grin against the crook of your neck before looking at you, his dark blown-wide pupils gazing at you with a hunger you didn't think it was possible. They'd burn, and the fire didn't scare you: it was the warm your cold body needed. Tell Sarah her daddy ain't hurting her slut of a friend.

"I-I'm fine" you manage to choke out. Good girl.

Joel's lids feel heavy as a crown. But you like 'em rough, don't 'cha, baby?

"Should I worry?"

Joel pulls harder, your scalp burning at the harsh tug. Answer when I ask. You breathe in heavily, and Sarah keeps on asking you if you're okay, threatening to burst through a dorm door she'll find empty.

"N-no" you meekly answer, and he laughs at your demeanor. Under his weight, pinned down on the mattress, there's nowhere to run to.

"Is it okay if I-"

"Sarah I need to hang, okay? My head hurts. Bye" it all comes down in a rush, the words a vomit of excuses. You make sure the call has ended, and so does Joel, that in an act of mercy, has stopped. You both look the screen until the lockscreen is back up again, a picture of you and Sarah. Despite used to having his weight on top of you, your throat feels constricted.

"Do you want to traumatize your daughter, Mr. Miller?"

He's back at his task of kissing, making you moan and writhe at the sensitivity of your kissed and bit skin during the last hour. You hate how he takes his time―edging you; unbearable.

"What I want is you"

The lie comes out effortlessly from his teeth. He wants you, needs you, but does he really want you? His daughter's best friend, the college girl he was going to lecture just last summer―to live life and forget about him, yet couldn't. He lies to himself, saying he didn't because you felt asleep, but feeling a warm body next to him, being your beautiful frame of all people, made it hard.

The way he makes a moaning mess out of you, how he knows every spot of your body no one had been able to please before, how your cunt stretches perfectly around his cock, how you call his name like no one else had done. It belongs to you now, and this is a vice.

It's like he's got a wound, and you're the only balm that can soothe the pain. But the effect is temporary, and after you leave, he always finds himself wanting more.

The doubt on his eyes has your heart beating out of fear.

"Then have me, Mr. Miller" you dare.

When Joel smiles, barely noticeable, something flutters in your stomach.

"Al'ight, impatient one. We have sum hours until Sarah's back. Spread" his hand nudges your thighs apart, and you oblige, making Joel chuckle at your obedience. "Good girl, baby. S'good f'r me"

You let out a gentle moan at the praise, and he smirks at your reaction.

"Feelin' desperate, are we?" he taunts, seeing your pretty lips parted and face flushed, a whine escaping them.

"Shut the fuck up and just kiss me already" you beg, pussy throbbing painfully.

"Damn brat" he hisses, "ain't you such'a needy greedy slut?" his finger hooks on your panties, tugging you closer into him, your body rising to clash against his softer frame that has nothing to do with his rough demeanor. You can feel the bulge that has formed through his pants, making you moan in delight.

"Sorry, daddy. I'll be a good girl" you squirm under his weight, pouting lips and batting eyelashes. "Please, kiss me. Pretty please, daddy"

"Jus' cus you asked well" but he knows it's an excuse to capture your sweet lips until he's tasted all of you. You once heard old men kiss like they want to devour every inch of your mouth, to make space for their tongue like it's going to live in there, and they were right.

He pulls away from the kiss to pull out his shirt, revealing his soft body. Your hands itch, immediatly reaching for it with wandering fingers. He chuckles at the eagerness, but then he catches the subtle adoration in your eyes, and his breath hitches, heart stopping.

"What's wrong?" you look up, and it's gone. Maybe he imagined it.

Joel doesn't know why he feels dissapointed by it.

He tries to push the thoughts back, head diving down between your breasts, leaving sloppy kisses and messy trails of saliva with his tongue on each one. He gives a special lick to your hardened nipples, making you squirm.

"Gonna bend y'r fuckin' sexy little body on this sheets. Gonna make you cum all'over, until y'r scent is'mpregnated on 'em"

You groan at his words, fingers pulling down the pajama shorts you brought over, revealing your pretty black laced lingerine.

"Fuck, baby. You wore 'em for me?" he's asking, and you'd be crazy if you think the tone reveals devotion. Is Joel even capable of warmth?

He leaves a new trail of kisses, this time, running from your neck to your stomach.

"Gonna make you scream my name 'til that's the only thin' you know how to say" his hot breath tingles over your abdomen. He buries his face in there, the mustache and scruffy graying hair tickling the skin. "Gon' give you such'a load, this flat stomach of yours will be bustin' with my seed"

You whine at his filthy words, mouth agape slightly. He looks at your soaked panties, arousal on clear display now. Joel's cock twitches in the confines of his jeans.

He lets out a low growl. "Look at you, such'a slut for me. Drippin' wet like a fuckin' whore and desperate, when I ain't even touch you"

To prove so, Joel teasingly runs his fingers along your inner thigh, dangerously close to your soaking core.

He pulls your underwear down, taking them off.

"M'gonna fuck you real good, baby" his fingers dig on your thighs for support, the burning sensation of his calloused digits on your soft skin delicious. "Gon' take care of what's mine"

Mine.

The words ring loud and clear. The only other noise to be heard is his lips leaving wet sounds against your thighs. Does Joel even realize what he said? Or was it in the heat of the moment?

No, wait. Stop. Why do you care?

He begins to rub circles in your clit, coating his fingers in your dripping arousal, prodding the tense needy hole, making you moan in desperation.

"Please, daddy" your lips cry as you beg for him to do anything to remove the pain in between your legs.

"Please, what?" Joel teases, voice raspy. He keeps prodding your center, his digits in and out in a gentle manner, contrasting his hard hold on your thigh. You squirm and whine at the sensation, but maybe it's the dark on his eyes that's really responsable for making you shrink under his gaze. "Think 'm doin' this for ya'? To please ya'? No, baby" he tuts, "you were a bad girl. Almost got caught"

"If you didn't make me answer" you seethe, a moan almost escaping your lips when his fingers hit that sweet spot of yours. "Maybe if you didn't, she wouldn't-"

Joel removed his fingers from you, and you reduce to a moaning mess, begging for the release you were chasing and now it's lost.

"But you wanted'er to know, didn't ya'?" he unbuckles his belt and fumbles with his worn-out jeans, revealing a barely concealed neediness on his side. "Wanted'er to know where 'er slut of a friend was: at daddy's house, beggin' for his dick like a cockhungry slut"

"I-I want it. Want you dick" you barely choke out, lips parted at the sight of his pulsating dick's silhouette under his brief.

"Then take it, hungry one"

His tip buries deeply into your cunt before you even speak again, sliding inside in one swift motion. You gasp, as he fills you up completely, because despite the way your cunt stretches for him, or the way you have had his dick and need it, his girth never fails to amaze you.

"D-daddy" you moan, walls stretching to accommodate his size. Your sweet arousal drips down your thighs, coating Joel's balls. Fuck, doesn't he love to see you squirming under him. He's never had a woman like you before, wrapped around his finger. You may be a girl, but God, you feel so much better around his dick than anyone else: your cunt tenses around his cock deliciously, his dick twitching when he takes a look at your legs shaking and fucked out state.

"That's it, pretty girl. Beg for'it"

His words go straight to your core as you moan. "Please. Let me take all of you, Joel, please"

You said his name. Fuck. He shouldn't be this aroused, but the way you say it like that's the only thing you know, like it means something more, it makes his dick throb and heart sting. That he, Joel Miller, old bitter man, single dad, could mean more to a young pretty girl like you.

"Fuck" he grunts, grabbing a handful of your hair as he begins to pull out slowly, plunging inside of you with harsh movements. The sound of skin clapping is obscene as he begins to fuck you mercilessly. "Ain't you a noisy lil' thing, huh? You like that, baby? You like it rough?"

Your voice comes out shaky. "Y-yes, daddy. F-fuck, just like that. I like it a l-lot"

"Good girl" he grins satisfied with your respone, his thrusts getting rougher and messier. "Lookin' s'pretty with my dick's inside of you"

Joel changes angles without telling you, brushing your g-spot. A noise so loud and vulgar comes out of your parted lips, and you feel ashamed.

But then he's brushing a strand of hair from your face, with a delicacy you've seen reserved for his daughter only. It feels weird, and you try that it doesn't distract you from your looming orgasm.

"Joel..." you breath out his name.

"Yes?" with everything coming out of his mouth: possesiveness, neediness, pleasure. Like he'd give you the world if you just ask, despite telling himself he wouldn't.

"K-keep going"

Your gaze bores into his eyes with an intensity that almost makes him stop. Because the words are simple, but Joel's been alive enough on this Earth to know it doesn't mean just that.

Keep going. Don't stop. Don't end this. Don't let me go.

"Whatever m'princess asks if she asks 'em nice"

You scream in pleasure as his thrusts become deeper, his balls slapping against your cunt, as your slick begins to run down your thighs. Joel thinks he's going crazy at the way your folds take him, how tight you feel, and the loud noises you make, begging him to fuck you harder, to use you. Every thrust pushes you closer to the edge, writhing under his touch as you begin to see stars.

"You close, aren't ya'?" he laughs, but it's devoid of mockery. A subtle softness hides behind them. Ask nicely, and I shall give. "Gon' cream 'round my dick like a good girl, right?"

His digits dig in the flesh of your hips, guiding himself to fuck you harder, for you to take him better, caging your body under the sheets, pushing you even closer to your orgasm. You mewl loudly, tears in the corner of your eyes at the delicious burn.

If you told yourself a year ago you'd be crying over Joel Miller's dick, of all people, you'd probably laugh. But no college boys had been able to please you, less bring you to tears as you reach your orgasm. This is heaven, and you aren't ready to say goodbye to the paradise you found in summer just yet.

Your core tenses around him, body so close to finishing, hair a mess, eyes brimming with tears, and lips spilling the filthiest sounds ever heard to humankind. It's heaven, and Joel isn't ready to give it up just yet. Your pussy throbs, and as your juices mix as one, you roll your eyes and head back, your high approaching, knot in your stomach tightening faster. Before you can register, your mind goes blank and you're seeing stars.

You come around his cock, coating it in your arousal as Joel admires how you cream his member, tight walls almost pushing him out of you. He groans at your simmering cries, some tears coming out of your eyes.

"What'e fuckin' slut, baby. You sure are somethin' else" he chuckles, his thrusts messier by his own high approaching. "Wait for me, yeah, baby?"

You humm, as he buries deep into you, filling you up completely, as his hips stop their harsh movements when he feels the tension in his abdomen release.

"Fuckin' sweet" he uses a finger to clean some of the slick that's run down your leg. "Good girl"

He licks them off in an obscene display, making sure to never break contact.

"If you keep doing that, I'm gonna become a real bad girl" you taunt.

Then he pulls out of you carefully, doing his best not to spill too much of his load from your cunt. He grabs one of the corners of his sheets, cleaning some of his seed from your thighs. Joel should be careful, but all his foggy mind can muster is you being his in every way he can. Making you his. Mine. Mine. Mine. You plead him not to do that, but he argues laundry day is soon and he likes it better when it smells like you anyway. You confess with a cute light blush in your cheeks that you do the same when he comes over to fuck you in your dorm, sleeping better when the covers smell like him. He shouldn't feel like this: like it could be. But he allows himself to, even for an instant.

"Oh, yeah?" he pants, "what you gon' do?"

Your eyes travel to his jeans and untied buckle he hadn't wasted time taking off, rather just pulling them down.

"I have something in mind..." you wander off, remembering filthy thoughts of your first night together, how you briefly thought about it. "I-" you cut off, blushing furiously.

"Yes?" he holds your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him as his rough fingers press on the skin. "Remember what I told ya', baby? To ask nicely? 'Cause you said you'd be a good girl, so be one and tell daddy what'd ya' want"

You gulp, trying to hold his gaze. You never back down. You never back down. But the intensity of the shinning copper makes that insufferable character of yours to be tamed, boiling against the surface but just scratching, all screams lost. Is like he knows this power over you, acting on it with a benevolence so sick, it has you thinking loving Joel Miller isn't impossible.

You never back down, but being with Joel feels like walking over stones, always thinking about the next step and the ones that were, ghosts of the lingering doubts and afterthoughts behind every step you take. It's like there's a river below them, washing away regret.

But you're still here: water up your knees then and now over your head.

You're barely floating. You'd be willing to drown anyway.

"I want to ride your belt buckle"

There's silence in the other side, until its met with a light chuckle.

"Yeah?" Joel keeps on laughing, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. "S'that what that filthy head of yours be thinkin' on?"

"Stop it" you groan, covering your hot face with your palms. You wish you could erase that ugly smirk off his face. "I'm never telling you anything again, ever"

"Now c'mon, baby. I was jus' messin' 'round" his tone adquires a soft edge to it, tender warm hands removing yours from your face. "Don't cover your face, baby. You're too goddam pretty" you blush, and Joel better resist the urge to kiss you just for the sake of kissing you. "I didn't mean to make fun of ya'. You know y'can tell me anythin' that's goin' inside that head of yours"

"Then you'll let me?" your pretty eyes look up to him, shinning like the stars of the summer night sky months ago.

He can't deny you anything, and a small crack of fear wounds his impenetrable heart.

"Get'ere you filthy slut"

You eagerly climb onto his lap as he sits against the beds headboard, your thighs pushing against his belly.

"Now" he tries to put in a more comfortable position, his tired joints creaking. He avoids your gaze, coughing over his blush. "You do all the job, baby. I ain't gonna help you, this greedy pussy took all of my energy"

You giggle, moving until your bare pussy clashes against the cold. A shiver runs down your spine, the dried juices moistening again over the metal piece. His hands move to your hips, hands now soft as they hold you, and he seems unsure of it, both of your breaths coming out ragged.

"You said you weren't gonna help" you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck. His face feels closer, and you can see lines time has marked across his features. "But thanks, daddy"

His heart takes a dangerous leap.

"'Course, baby" he smiles. "You know I spoil ya' too damn much"

You begin to roll your hips, sliding your pussy over the cold material, your arousal making a wet slick sound that bounces off the walls, a shiver down your back as you feel your slick already coating the front of it and the top of his jeans.

"Mmm, can't say no to me, can you, baby?" you mock, rocking your hips back and forth. A shaky breath escapes your parted lips, and Joel feels his renovated dick spring hard. You moan, your ass barely touching his now tense member.

"Quit runnin' that mouth of y'rs, baby" his digits dig on your skin, "or I'll bend ya' over again"

"Sorry, daddy" you feel the metal star on the middle digging inside your pussy, the borders of the imprint brushing your leaking cunt in a pleasant way. "I promise to be good"

"Do" he grunts, "you're runnin' out of time, doll"

You close your eyes, movements more quick and erratic, little moans leaving your body as you groan.

"Tell me how this lil' experiment of yours feelin', baby"

"F-feels good, daddy. Fuck" you groan, lifting your hips a bit as you grind yourself down across the material. "So so good, daddy. Thank you, daddy"

"Mmm, that's right. Now be a good girl and come for me. Let me see that pretty face of yours when ya' come over ma' belt"

You let out a shaky breath, juices spilling over his jeans even as you see stars. He chuckles, enamoured at the sight.

"You gonna need help with that?" you point out his boner.

Oh, aren't you a doll? So kind-hearted.

"That's okay" he breathes out, tiredly. He thinks of the next trip to the bathroom, the image of what he'll fuck himself to clear now.

You smile at him, for the first time forgetting this started as a blowing-off-steam-time or transaction.

For a moment, it feels like it could be.

"Jus' seein' you cum all over me so prettily is'nough, baby"

[ultramaga]

I'm fine with someone who very much doesn't look like me if they are brave and strong.

Departing New Zealand firefighter Larry Rangiwaia (R) from Gisborne, who was injured fighting the fires, performs a 'Haka", a traditional Maori challenge in Mansfield as 30 degree (86 Fahrenheit) plus temperatures and wind gusts up to 100 kilometres (62 miles) per hour had raised the fire threat in a number of embattled communities, 22 December 2006. Australia's bushfire season, which has seen blazes erupt in four states, has so far claimed one man's life and destroyed more than 30 houses. Government and fire officials have said the Victorian fires could rage for weeks. WILLIAM WEST/AFP via Getty Images

And there are cultures that were famous for the manliness and courage of their fighting forces.

A Gurkha, A Sikh, A Rajput. All member of the British Indian Army and winners of the Victoria Cross in WW2. Buckingham Palace, 1945 But Leftism makes people weak, it teaches them to see themselves as victims even as they oppress others, and teaches them to never try to be stronger.

The Rooftop Koreans succeeded because they never bought into the leftist narrative that they were helpless victims. They weren't the strongest - I am sure at times they were terrified.

But when the communists came for them, they were trained, they were equipped, they had a community, they were ready.

Leftists learned from that, and have been weakening 'minorities' with endless propaganda ever since. The DEI hires are feeble and useless, because they were taught they could never be better, and they were taught they should be given stuff without earning it.

These guys didn't listen when the Leftists told them to be weak. That said, female firefighters are always going to be worse at rescuing people, and really only make sense in bushfires or as a last resort.

At a time when people were getting heavier and heavier, the decision to hire women over men was the triumph of ideology over ability, and it should be tossed out of the window ...

without the mattress, of course!

And, yes, I am aware that women and children can fight fires ...

But if it takes three women to do the work of one man, do they really deserve to take that job?

[peachsayshi]

PEACH YOUR BABY DADDY!SUKUNA.....

He distanced himself bc he's not a good guy, he's got a shit job, can barely pay child support but he does what he can. And he always looks after your daughter when you're busy, takes every moment to be with her that he can, even tho he knows that you're the more capable parent. You were always too good for him, and he was your bad boy fling, your mistake.

"I think you love momma more." His daughter told him, bless her unfiltered thoughts. She was probably right. Somehow, after all this time, he still found you completely stunning. He felt guilty for the way he treated you, seeing you persevere and thrive as you've gotten older. If anything, you got more beautiful with each passing day, and he couldn't be happier that his child was being raised by you, even if that meant he had to be out of the picture.

"maybe I do." He chuckled, a tinge of regret to his words. He remembered the ways he hurt you, the look on your face when he made you cry. His selfishness. It was always his selfishness that got in the way. "But I'm not good at it."

// brutally soft // III. 

baby daddy!sukuna x reader 

tags: non curse au; tension; reader and sukuna are co-parents; girl dad sukuna; mentions troubled past with sukuna; alludes to significant size different; mentions drug use and drinking; mentions cheating; sukuna being soft; unrequited love; angsty | | read this for more context & this & this

note: (I am so sorry this took me so long to respond to) but!! you don't get to leave something like this and not expect me to sweetly return the favor by meddling with your feelings the way you did mine. because holy shit, nyx, just hearing sukuna say "I'm not good at it" in a hushed, sad voice made me want to take my own ribs out.

dni if your blog is blank / ageless / or are a minor

"mama! guess what!" your daughter says. "I have a secret!"

you smile to yourself because she always has a secret to share these days. little, innocent things that capture her attention which seem worthy of keeping confidential.

"you know," you say as you help her into her dress. "you're not supposed to tell secrets when you have them..."

"but I tell you everything, mama!"

you lift her up in your arms, the weight of her body getting heavier by the day and reminding you of how fast she's growing.

sukuna is taking her to visit her uncle yuji, and she has been over the moon about it. you place her on the seat of her vanity, and proceed to fix her hair since sukuna will be arriving in twenty minutes, and you want to make sure that she's all set once her dad gets here. you giggle at her response, "okay, okay, what's the secret?"

she looks at you from the mirror's reflection and covers her mouth as she chuckles.

"hey, what's with the sly face?" you prod, holding a chunk of her hair gently between your palm.

"do you know ms. kiko?" she asks, referring to her pre-school teacher.

"mhmm, what about her?"

she giggles again. "well, she told told mrs. chiyo that she thinks daddy is cute!!"

your heart thumps. oddly.

you're not immune to the way that the women look at the father of your child. it's the same alluring, seductive energy that drew you to sukuna in the first place.

but it's been years since you've both been intimate together in any capacity, you're sure that he's probably got someone on call if and when necessary. considering he has more spare time than you do without a child running around, you're pretty sure that sukuna is satisfied with whatever situationship he's in. you've learned to swallow the discomfort of the idea of sukuna with other women. just like how you had to bury the hurt of the very one who tore your relationship apart.

you hum at her observation, your fingers idly braiding her hair.

it's not like you were single anymore either. you've been casually dating a lawyer on and off. it wasn't serious per se, but it wasn't a fleeting relationship where it made you feel like you were entirely free of the attachment.

he's even met sukuna at this point.

granted those dates are few and far between, but you were a single mother who worked full time.

trying to commit to a relationship is hard.

even though, you would love to share all this with...someone.

"anyway, I had to warn daddy to be careful..." your daughter interjects.

"warn him?" you repeat with a smile, her choice of words adorable.

"yeah! so, I told daddy that ms. kiko was in love with him, and asked him if I should tell her to stop..."

"stop?"

"being in love with him!" she responds with a grimace.

that makes you laugh. "and why would you do that, hmm?" you question gently for fun.

"because I know that daddy loves you more, mama!"

your heart thumps again, harder this time. so hard you feel it nearly knock the wind out of you. you clear your throat to ease the apprehension while your daughter kicks her legs with anticipation.

"and how would you know that?" "because," she insists, "daddy told me that he loves you more than anyone else in this world"

her words spill out of her, a glass of water that's been carelessly knocked over. you scrunch your brows as each word registers into your brain, soaking over your to do lists and mental checks.

"what?" you whisper as you stare at this little girl who has already carried on the conversation.

"after me, obviously," she presses - because no one can take her place when it comes to the love that you and sukuna both give her.

"wait-wait..." you say a little breathless, your hands suddenly trembling as you do your best to finish the job you started. "what did your daddy tell you? I didn't quite-"

"he said he loves you more than anyone else in the world..." she repeats, her focus on the rogue hair brush that sits at her small vanity. "so, yeah, that's why I asked daddy if I should tell ms. kiko to stop saying he's cute..."

"your...your daddy is just being silly..." you murmur, trying to underplay the statement. you slip the hairband around her second braid to secure the style in place.

impossible, you think. that's impossible.

so much time has passed between you both.

you buried that part of your past long ago.

left it and refused to look back-

"nu-uh. he said that I don't have to say anything to ms. kiko. that it's okay because he loves momma more, anyway. but daddy also told me once that he's not that good at it," she adds on, her fingers picking at the bristles of her bright purple brush, "whatever that means..."

"when did you and your daddy have this conversation..."

the realization hits her then, and she stares up at you before covering her mouth. "oops," she states, glancing from side to side, "I pinky promised daddy I wouldn't tell you that..."

before you can fish out anything else from her, she hops off her seat, her feet pattering away as she moves across the room towards her pile of plushies.

"who should I take with me?" she says loudly, brushing aside the fact that she said far more than she should. she stands with her hip jutted out and her finger pressed against her lips, her back facing you.

you have to lean against her closet to steady yourself. you do your best to rationalize sukuna's words, trying to decipher the pieces in this game of whispers.

your mind flashes to the horrid break up five and a half years ago. a memory that exists hazily in the back of your mind, to the moment of you standing in sukuna's dingy old apartment holding a lacy white bra between your fingers.

it was not yours.

"what is this?" you gasped, your breath straining as your chest rose and fell with unease. "what the fuck is this..."

it's the only time you've ever seen sukuna panicked.

your memory only captures his words in blurs.

of him drinking too much.

way too much.

of him not waking up alone but swearing that he thought he was was you.

of him not recollecting his own thoughts because he blacked out that night.

of him being just as shocked when he realized the warm body next to him was not his girlfriend.

he begged you to forgive him.

"Baby, I swear. I fucking swear I will clean up my act. I-I'll never fucking drink again. Fuck, I went too far last night. One of the guys was passing around these pills I shouldn't have fucked around with them..."

you couldn't.

you couldn't accept any of it.

you already tolerated so much with him.

the drinking, the recreational drug use, his inability to keep a job, and him nearly ending up in jail for causing fights.

but you saw so much more in that man - and yet, he proved you wrong.

this betrayal spoke volumes.

this betrayal proved to you that you were expendable to him too.

that you just weren't that important.

that shadow of that man doesn't exist anymore. not with this new version of sukuna in your life.

he almost makes you forget the past. this man; your daughter's sunlight. her knight in shining armor. the source of her joy.

he may not have been good at loving you, but that little girl has him in the palm of her hand.

and he loves her with all his might, it feels like his absolution.

"mama?" your daughter calls out, snapping you out of your thoughts.

she's standing right in front of you now, holding a rabbit plushie in one hand and a penguin in the other.

"can I take both?" she asks innocently, her wide eyes glittering brightly as she remains oblivious to your own personal drowning.

"n-no," you stammer out, and affectionately poke the small dimple in her cheek. "just one, my love. we all know your uncle yuji will have more for you when you see him..."

her eyes widen, "that's right!" she exclaims, "he always finds the best and softest ones!"

the bell rings, and you abruptly stand on your feet.

your throat tight, your stomach fluttering.

"daddy's here!" your daughter cheers, and instantly runs out of the room.

you pick up her weekend bag and sling it over your shoulder. you pause and exhale softly, telling yourself to relax before following in her footsteps.

sukuna's deep voice greets you first.

"look at these braids on you..."

you find them both at the foyer, your daughter already scooped up in her father's big, muscular arms. his hand is tugging at one of her braids and she's smiling wildly in his direction.

he's wearing an oversized leather jacket, the fit only bulking up his stature. your daughter is gripping his black tee between her hands, and she yanks it gently before asking: "can we go now?"

sukuna smiles and your spine shivers.

age has done wonders for him too.

"easy, princess, let me say hi to your mom first..."

your fingers grip onto the strap of her weekender bag nervously. you don't know why you suddenly feel very aware of how you look.

of the fact that you're completely barefaced and running on five hours of sleep. that your choice in clothes is a pair of unflattering sweats and hoodie which has some coffee stains on it. you desperately need to wash your hair, and are due for a manicure appointment.

sukuna turns to face you, "hey you, I didn't notice you standing there..."

you clear your throat again, "hi! sorry...I uh-I didn't want to interrupt..."

sukuna adjusts the hold on your daughter, allowing you to approach him as he couldn't take off his boots.

"she all ready for me?" he asks.

"mhmm" you answer quietly, at a complete loss for words because all you can hear is "daddy said he loves you more than anyone else in the world."

you hand off the bag to him, which he takes with ease.

"it's not too late to join us," he offers, but you give him a small smile and shrug of your shoulders.

"trapped with work unfortunately,"

sukuna glances in your daughters direction, "I tried..."

she pouts your way. "you sure, mama?"

"yeah, my love, I am sure."

you slide into sukuna's frame, doing your best to carefully not touch any part of his broad canvas. you stand up on your tip toes and place multiple kisses on your daughter's cheek.

"I love you and I am going to miss you like crazy these next two days," you state sweetly, feeling her wrap her arms around your neck to give you a hug and a kiss in return. "promise me you'll be on your best behavior..."

"I promise!!" she answers.

you find the courage to meet sukuna's soft eyes, the ease on his face doing nothing to help your shattering state.

"I guess you're both set then," you say with a sigh.

he furrows his brow at your tone, and leans forward to make direct eye contact toward you. your lips part slightly at the close proximity of his face with yours, and he tilts his head like a curious cat before asking: "you okay?"

your heat burns so naturally. your heart ready to climb it's way up your throat. you blink back in surprise at his question, and stutter out a "I-I'm fine..."

"you sure?" he presses as he casually stands upright again, like he didn't just pop the bubble of your personal space. "you seem a little off..."

"I am okay," you reassure with a firm nod, before dropping your gaze down at your feet as you shift your balance. "I-I just have a lot on my mind today is all..."

there is a gentle tap just underneath your chin, your attention lifts up to look back at sukuna. his expression is stoic, but you can see the concern in his tense jaw. he taps the space just beneath your bottom lip, your insides turning at the gesture he used to do to you countless times before.

"anything I need to be worried about?" he asks calmly, his choice of words a veil over his obvious unsettlement.

you feel like you really can't breathe then.

your mind spins to when you carelessly kissed him. to when he returned the gesture at your daughter's play.

what seemed so innocent now feels like a serious overstep.

your hand circles around his wrist and you pull him away from you. "I'm fine, Ryomen," you acknowledge politely, trying to keep your words detached but kind.

after you see them both off and shut the front door, you find yourself pressed against the wooden frame. your back weakly glides down the surface until you're sitting on the floor. you bring your knees close to your chest, shaking at the prospect not because you don't want it to be true, but because you are terrified of allowing yourself to even open your heart to sukuna again.

he broke you. he hurt you. and yet, he somehow was the only thing that healed those wounds.

he is the reason why you were able to bring your daughter into this world. he treated her with immense love and supported you in every capacity to build this imperfect little family with you.

ryomen sukuna - your dark angel. the source of your deepest pain, and the reason for your happiest joy.

the wall that you've kept between you and sukuna exists as a safety barrier. you can peek over whenever necessary, but it doesn't mean you ever have to cross that boundary.

and yet, you've caught yourself with the consideration of sitting on the ledge, or maybe even stepping onto the other side.

all it takes for you is to then see the cracks and damages of the past as a reminder of what keeps stopping you.

"get a grip of yourself" you mutter out loud.

you let go of that love. you remind yourself, and you both are better for it.

sukuna is a completely different individual now, and you are in a much happier place than you were before.

the whirlwind romance, the intense passion and addictive excitement fizzled. the sparkle having faded the moment his betrayal was revealed.

maybe your love for each other is just too destructive when intertwined so closely. but existing loosely as small strings, and tethered to the singular entity that lives and breathes because of it...

maybe that should be more than enough for you both.

and you don't know why the thought breaks your heart a little.

[armpirate]

Borrowed Skin || JJK

pairing: JK x fem!reader || Obsessive love, Impersonation

w.c.: 6.3k

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, oral sex (female receiving), protected sex, teasing (Minors DNI! Refrain from reading if you're not +18, and ignore if you don't like this type of content)

Aprox. time of reading: 28 minutes

Summary: Something felt different about your boyfriend, Junghoon, after not seeing each other for four days, though you couldn't quite put your finger on it. Familiar gestures felt slightly foreign, shared memories were met with hesitation, and the faintest shadows of someone else lingered in his eyes. What you didn't know was that Jungkook, his twin brother, had killed your boyfriend to take his place. Hungry for a life he could never have any other way, he came up with a plan in order to claim the love he had always desired.

MASTERLIST

It was late evening, and your phone buzzed with a message from Junghoon, your boyfriend. You met a few years ago. It was like the first scene of the couple in a romantic movie, with your hands brushing momentarily as you both went to pick up the same thing in the supermarket. You could almost say it was instant, just one look and a bit of conversation, and you both knew neither wanted to move away from each other.

Everything was perfect, except for his brother, Jungkook. They were almost identical, except for the tattoos on Junghoon's arm that covered his full sleeve, which his brother didn't have. Same with their piercings. Jungkook only had a few on his ears, while Junghoon also had two on his lips.

The differences weren't only physical:

Junghoon was always the responsible one, the kind of person who double-checked plans and took pride in being dependable. He had a steady, grounded energy that made you feel safe. You loved that about him. He was attentive, but not overly sentimental, he showed his care through actions, not words. Although, lately, that side of him was also fading.

Jungkook, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. He thrived on chaos, living in the moment without thinking of consequences. He'd always been a wildcard, the kind of guy who could light up a room but also burn it down. And the kind of guy who would constantly get Junghoon in trouble constantly when they were still close.

You remembered the tension between them vividly: Junghoon often vented about Jungkook's reckless choices, saying things like, "He thinks life's a game, but it's not. One day, he's going to go too far." Jungkook would retaliate with sarcastic remarks, mocking Junghoon for being too uptight.

Their arguments weren't just sibling spats, they were deep, filled with years of unresolved jealousy and blame. It made it easy for you to tell them apart, not just in personality but even in how they carried themselves. Junghoon's calm demeanor was worlds away from Jungkook's restless energy, which always ended up with your boyfriend also being dragged in whatever problem he was in.

You sighed when reading your boyfriend's text. He had been away all weekend, he actually canceled plans with you at the last minute on Friday, which you simply shrugged off, because it wasn't the first time it happened. He always had a last minute conference for his book, a last minute presentation or interview he couldn't place.

Junghoon: What are you doing?

Y/n: I'm coming back home... Where are you?

Junghoon: I went to the gym

Y/n: You? To the gym? You hate it...

Junghoon: Yup. Thought it'd be time to give it a chance

You simply rolled your eyes, leaving your small bag at the passenger's side of your car, your lip trapped under your teeth as you looked at the screen.

Junghoon: Do you want to do something now?

Y/n: Like what?

Junghoon: Prepare some blankets and some snacks, we're cuddling until dinner time.

You were confused, but you weren't going to oppose him. You actually liked the idea of doing something together after so long.

Junghoon: I'm on my way

Y/n: Okay. I'm shopping, but I'll be there in 10. Use your keys if early

Jungkook smiled at the text looking back at him, his smirk widening at the idea of seeing you after so long, for the first time in Junghoon's skin. He had always seen you from afar, always hooked on his brother's arm, but that night things would be different.

Even if it took him erasing Junghoon from the equation and taking his place, Jungkook would be finally able to be right where he belonged: right next to you.

His heartbeat kept beating faster as he approached your building... And a question popped up: would you be able to tell he wasn't Junghoon? Or would he be able to play your boyfriend so well that you wouldn't notice?

After he parked the motorbike, he played with the keys in his hand, the item tingling in his fingers as he looked at the mailbox to confirm which one was your door.

The house was a reflection of you: warm and orderly, with small imperfections that spoke of a life lived rather than curated. He exhaled slowly, steadying the tremor in his fingers. That wasn't the first step; that had been weeks ago. But this was the moment he crossed the line, fully stepping into Junghoon's life. Into your life. Officially adopting an identity and a personality that didn't belong to him only so he'd be able to be with you.

"Love?" his voice sounded a bit deeper than usual when calling for you.

After not hearing from you after a few seconds, he assumed you didn't arrive yet and closed the door behind him. His helmet rested on the backrest of your couch as he planned on walking around. You didn't have many details in the living room, but it was obvious on the small frames placed on the shelves on both sides of your TV that you liked to make it known that house was yours. Guilt and worry held onto his chest as his eyes fell on a picture you had with Junghoon, then to a new one.

And he wondered... was he going to be able to play the perfect boyfriend his brother always was?

Before he could think any deeply about it, the door clicked behind him, and he suddenly turned to see you. Your small frame was bent more towards one side than the other, because the weight of the bags you were carrying in one hand was too heavy.

Jungkook walked to you before you could open your mouth, his hands brushing against yours and forcing him to ignore the electricity to act as normal as he could.

"Thank you, love" you whispered, closing the door.

His walk was intuitive, thanking himself for being early and taking a look around your place to know where things were. Your tracks stopped when you spotted the helmet, ignoring the rustle from the bags in the kitchen.

"What's with the helmet?" you asked confused.

For a moment, he didn't respond, his face unreadable. Then he laughed, a little too quickly, a little too loud. "Oh, that? It's not mine. It's... a friend's. He brought me on his motorbike. I've been meaning to return it."

You frowned. "A friend's?"

He shrugged, still moving inside the kitchen, knowing his lie would be caught as soon as you looked him in the eye. "Yeah, someone I met at the gym" he said, mentioning it like it was no big deal.

And it wouldn't be... if it weren't because his brother wasn't the perfect boyfriend he always showed off to be.

He assumed you'd already know everyone in Junghoon's workplace and his group of friends, adding someone in the picture from a background you didn't know of was a quick way of escaping, without any more questions.

You nodded slowly, still trying to process the oddness of it all. You didn't want to be paranoid. Hell, you promised you left behind all of your insecurities and doubts after what happened, but you couldn't help but let all of those feelings come back at you again with Junghoon's strange behavior that night. Showing up in the middle of the night, so eager to see you, with that same nervousness... It almost felt like a throwback to...

You shook your head, trying to erase those thoughts.

"Do I know this friend?" you asked, half-joking, trying to shake the strange feeling gnawing at your stomach.

He paused, the rustle of bags suddenly stopping. "I don't think so," he said lightly. "I told you it was someone from the gym."

The answer should have satisfied you, but it didn't. Something about the way he avoided any type of honesty when he spoke made your chest tighten. You didn't push further, though. You told yourself it was nothing -Junghoon was just tired. Maybe he really had changed, even in small ways. People did, right?

The rustle of the bags came back as you started making your way to the kitchen, his wide back completely eclipsing whatever he was doing on the counter. "Come on," he said, flashing you that familiar smile over his shoulder, "I'll let you pick a movie to watch until it's time for dinner."

You returned his smile, letting yourself be pulled into the comfort of the moment. Although it lasted just a short moment, because your teeth trapped your lower lip before you could even control yourself.

"Babe" you called him, getting his attention. "You know you can tell me anything, right? I mean..." you readjusted yourself in the kitchen, resting against the wall, shifting your position so you'd be able to look at him "There's no secrets between us".

Jungkook hesitated, knowing what your gaze meant. Yet, at the same time, he knew that look wasn't because you were suspicious of his fake personality. It was something else he couldn't decipher, but it made his heart shrink with a guilt he wasn't the owner of.

"I do have something to tell you" he finally said.

As much as you'd have loved to be relieved by that sentence, it made your pulse quicken. Because last time it started the exact same way.

"The helmet" he said, trying to control himself by redirecting his thoughts on the conversation "is mine. I didn't want to tell you, because it was going to be a surprise, but I'm a mess and ruined it. I've been studying to get the license" he finally admitted. "I bought a motorbike recently..."

"You did what?" you frowned. "That's..." definitely better than everything you had imagined. "Oh god, that's great" you smiled widely. "The amount of things we'll be able to do, and all the places we'll go".

Jungkook's heart fluttered at the way your expression changed, opening the door to an excited rambling with several ideas you were clearly already thinking of.

"You liked the surprise, baby?"

"Yes, yes" you nodded repeatedly. "You kept it to yourself so well, I wouldn't have seen it coming at all".

"Yeah... I thought it'd be better for all the plans I want to do with you, hmm? We could go on a small trip during your holidays, I could pick you up from work..."

"I... You didn't even hint at it. You're usually so bad at keeping secrets" you sighed, relieved at what he was keeping from you.

"It was a surprise worth of keeping from you"

"I'm happy though" you smiled at him, started to take out all the groceries you bought. "I'm happy you finally got a license. I would have rathered it to be a car, you know, it's safer. But it's great" to prolong the comfort and happiness, you turned to him with a smile, finding him supporting himself on the doorframe "It's really great" you nodded again. "You know what?"

"What, baby?"

"I bought you your favorite dessert"

He tried to hide the surprise and confusion, knowing damn well you're referring to Junghoon's. Trying to keep himself from messing it up, he opted for a neutral answer: "You're spoiling me, baby".

As he watched you pacing around the kitchen, putting all the things perfectly in the drawers, he couldn't help but notice how you seemed comfortable in his presence, unaware that he wasn't your boyfriend, a little too happy with the domestic aura it all gave. For one second, he could only feel guilty of not doing what he did earlier.

"You're not going to ask why I showed up unannounced?" he buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, trying to push away the guilt that gnawed at him. But at the same time, the feeling of having you in his arms was exhilarating.

"Why?" you asked softly, leaning into his body.

"I missed you" he murmured in your ear, his voice low and filled with desire. His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

His eyes shut close when your fingers moved up to his hair, enjoying the feeling. Your touch sent shivers down his spine, making him crave more. Instinctively his body against yours, his lips finding their way to your neck, planting soft kisses along your skin.

"I love you" he subconsciously said, with his lips attached to your scent while his hands roamed through your curves.

"Baby" you puckered your lips, touched by his words "I love you, too".

He buried his face in your hair, inhaling your scent and trying to commit it to memory, while his fingers ran through it, gently massaging your scalp as you stood there in your kitchen.

He slid his hands underneath your shirt, caressing your bare skin, making you hum at how warm he surprisingly felt. "You're so warm" you mumbled, snuggling closer.

"You feel so nice and soft in my arms" one of his hands made its way down to your thigh. "Hmm, the best" he gave your thigh a light squeeze and then slowly ran his fingers up and down the outside, moving his digits until they brushed against the hem of the fabric of your t-shirt.

"I'm glad you came" you confessed with a soft whisper.

Jungkook smiled against your shoulder, his face hiding in the crook of your neck "Why wouldn't I be here doing what I love the most?"

"Well... You always say your job is so important".

Junghoon loved you, you knew he did, but he also found a million other things more important than you, and he didn't hesitate to remind you. Now, having him behind you, his chest stuck to your back as he hugged you tight when he was supposed to be at work, you felt a warmth in your heart you hadn't felt in a long while.

"Of course it is, but you're even more important to me" he chuckled at your action, loving the way you tried to fit against his body.

You were tired of the amount of times you'd heard that same sentence on him, only to be paid dust all the time. But, somehow, those words felt so genuine that night...

"From now on, I promise I'll focus on you only. I promise" he whispered, with his lips brushing against your earlobe.

"I'm glad our arguments finally got some sense for you" you joked, although you weren't really joking.

For one second, Jungkook wondered how his brother could even think of believing anything was more important than being with you in his arms. How could Junghoon ever think of not putting you in first place?

"You don't know how much I hated those arguments, baby" he looked into your eyes when you turned your face, his gaze and tone both growing somber at the mention.

"Me, too. I hate being mad at you" you kissed his lips.

"Being mad at you was like torture. Those fights felt like hell" slowly, he made you turn on your feet, the feeling of you in his arms already making him feel better.

"What comes after those fights is worth it though" you smirked, hiding your face on his neck.

Jungkook chuckled, endeared by the way you hid how your cheeks turned a lighter shade of pink "Yeah, my clingy baby gets even clingier after our fights" he grinned and his hand rubbed up and down your thigh.

There was something about his touch, his words... or the way he was holding you like he actually wanted you that kept you pushing for more. You started kissing his cheek, but quickly moved down his jaw and throat, feeling him gulp thick under your lips.

"Mmm, baby, that feels nice" he tilted his head to the side to give you even better access to his neck.

You moved back up, your lips rubbing against his. "You like that?"

He brought his hands up to the sides of your face and pulled you closer, his lips hovering over yours, wondering if that was always how you made things up.

"Hmm" he nodded " And I think you're so cute"

He gave your nose a small kiss before kissing your lips softly, gently pulling on your lower lip with his. With every second, he deepened the kiss, gently pushing his tongue into your mouth, pulling and playing with yours. Your fingers sank deeper in his hair, flicking your tongue on his while your hands started moving down his torso. A low hum and a moan escaped his lips as he felt your fingers move, his hands sliding up and down your thighs before eventually gripping your hips. A gasp broke the kiss when you felt his hands on your hips, pressing you a bit harder against his crotch, and as you started to rock your hips against him, you felt that need for him starting to build up.

His teeth crushed on your neck, sucking at the skin to give you a mark as his hips continued to move against yours. His hands traveled down the back of your thighs, digging into your flesh as he started rolling your hips against him, slowly getting addicted to the way you felt against him. He didn't think twice, lifting your body so you were sitting on the counter.

He was left confused when you sat straight in front of him, although your smirk calmed him down almost immediately. His pulse raced up when you started taking your shirt off, his eyes falling down to your chest. His hands moved through your smooth soft skin, traveling up your sides, while his eyes shined as if that was the first time he saw you that way.

You didn't give him time to think, because you bent over to kiss him before he could. His hands were placed on either side of your neck, pulling you back down to his lips, the kiss immediately growing more and more hungry, his tongue immediately seeking access to your mouth again.

"Babe" you whispered against his lips, "what do you want?"

"You, I only want you"

"I'm all yours"

A smirk played on his lips as he heard the words fall so freely from your lips, your eagerness only fueling his hunger for you. The fact that he thought he'd never hear those words from you, and even less dedicated to him, made his head spin. His hands slide up your sides and then down again, his fingers hooking onto the waistband of your pants as he looked into your eyes

"Is that so? You're all mine and mine only?"

"Only yours" you whispered.

You didn't care about how many times you needed to confirm that, because that was the truth.

"Good girl" he groaned, those two words, so simple yet impactful, made your blood run faster through your veins.

He tugged on your pants, signaling for you to lift your hips up a bit so he could take them off, and you helped, supporting your hands on his shoulders to give him enough space to get you naked.

As his eyes traced a silent path through your body, you couldn't help but tilt your head. "Liking what you see?" your hands moved up through his shirt.

His answer, forward yet nervous, came up as if it was the most obvious answer "Shit, I love it"

You didn't need to speak for your boyfriend to help you take off his t-shirt, it was enough with the way you kept moving the black fabric up for him to follow your silent command and do as you wanted, his abs slightly flexing as you exposed him.

"When did you get so bulked up?" you curiously asked when you spotted the difference.

It was then when you realized the big toll routine had on you and your relationship, how you barely noticed the change in his body despite seeing each other almost every day.

"I've been working out a lot lately" he said, smiling nervously, watching your fingers run over his arms.

You could almost hear the pride in his tone as you touched his muscles.

Again, a pang of sadness showed up again across your brain as you realized how long it had been since you were that intimate with your boyfriend. You didn't even notice how toned he was becoming, you didn't even notice the progress as it was happening.

"I see" you chuckled, wrapping your fingers around his neck when you saw him placing himself between your legs.

He hummed and smiled as you wrapped your arms around him, his hands immediately going to your hips, gripping them and pulling you closer to him, his face in line with your neck. He nuzzled your throat, showering the skin there with light kisses.

His lips moved up to your jawline, placing small, slow kisses up your jaw, his hands grabbing your thighs and pulling you even closer, until your hips are rubbing against his again. The mere touching having you whispering in between kisses how bad you craved him, while his hands tightened their grip on your thighs at your words, your desire for him only fueling the lust and hunger for you inside him.

He attached his lips to your neck once more, gently sucking and biting the skin there while his hips rolled up as you grinded against him. The only thing that could ever stop him from devouring you was yourself, and that was exactly what happened.

He let out a soft hum as you touched his back, his hips rolling up against you again at the soft feeling of your fingers. When your digits hit his belt, a smirk played on his lips. "Do you want it off, baby?"

You nodded and you could feel his grip on your thighs loosening to give you space to move in front of him, able to drag your body down his from the counter. He watched you in awe, the movement already sending a wave of excitement through him. When looking down at you, his eyes took in every inch of your bare skin while he undid his belt buckle.

A thick groan left his lips when you played him while undressing him, your fingers barely touching his skin when taking off his dark jeans, earning him calling you a tease with a groan. Your boyfriend didn't hold back, holding your thighs to put you back against his body, the sudden move surprising you, but not letting you back off from teasing him "Yes, I'm a tease, and? You love it".

"Hmm yeah, I do. But I also love you being a good girl"

A smirk immediately plays on his lips as you weren't able to control your legs from pressing together. His hands moved down your body, caressing your bare skin. "Oh? Does someone like being called a good girl?"

It was something... new. It wasn't the type of chat you had while having sex.

He lifted your body once more, making you wrap your legs around him so you'd be steadily placed.

"Grind against me" he said in a deep tone, his hands gripping the small of your back more firmly, wanting to feel you closer.

You positioned yourself correctly enough to do what you were told, your hips almost meeting his, you could feel his hardened bulge, yet you didn't move an inch. "You want this?" you moved your hips down, rolling them for one second before moving them back up.

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his patience even at the feeling of you rolling your hips for a second, his own self-control slowly slipping out of his grasp. He gripped your hips harder, wanting to feel you against him even more "Yeah, I want this. I want you. So move against me and be a good girl for me, baby"

Clearly, you weren't going to make it so easy for him.

You bit your lip, bending over until your lips were almost touching his ear "Use the right words".

He shivered involuntarily at your whispered sentence, your breath in his ear sending another wave of excitement through him, the need to be with you growing stronger "Please, baby. Let me feel you, just move against me. You know I'm a patient man, but this is making me lose my damn mind"

"So this" you grind your hips down, moving them back up again "is making you lose your head?"

He let out a low, almost guttural groan at the slow, calculated move of your hips, the friction created by your movements driving him insane "Yeah, you're making me lose my damn mind, baby. You know what you do to me".

You licked his upper lip, your hand holding his chin before you rolled your hips back down against his.

He moaned in consequence, feeling the way you rolled your hips again, his own hips involuntarily bucking up against yours. "Baby... that's it, just keep going like that. Just a little bit more" he held back the urge to take control of your body and just take you right there, trying to keep a bit of my composure.

Although that composure didn't last long, just enough for him to take you to your bedroom.

You didn't know how or when you ended up underneath him, his body trapping yours against the mattress while his lips ghosted over yours "We're done playing now" he assured you. The air was caught in your throat when he brushed his lips against your throat. "I fucking love the way you're all mine" he groaned. "Mine only, hmm? I'll destroy whoever tries to get between us".

You gulped thick when you heard him saying that, unsure if it was just the pleasure ruling him... because he was looking deadly serious.

"What?" he called you "You like knowing that you're all mine and mine alone? You like hearing how I'll do anything to keep you all to myself?"

In three years of relationship, it was the first time you heard Junghoon being so possessive of you. Yet you didn't hate it. Not at all.

He crawled on top of you, his body trapping you beneath him. His fingers skillfully undid the clasp of your bra with a swift motion as soon as his fingertips found it. Your back arched with need as you felt the fabric caressing your skin before disappearing, and it kept folding as his lips started making their way down your body. He paused for a moment to look up at you, his eyes darkened for all the right and wrong reasons as he admired the invisible path he made from your chest to the edge of your underwear.

He held your gaze for a moment, his eyes searching for a hint of suspicion or doubt, for any sign that could make him back down. But he found none, only desire and trust. His fingers hooked into your underwear and pulled them down your legs, his eyes never leaving yours as he got you naked in front of him.

Jungkook moved back up your body, his hands trailing up your thighs as he went. He positioned himself between your legs, his lips finding your collarbone again, leaving a mark that would be difficult to hide, while his heart pounded hysterically against his chest. His desire for you and the guilt of his identity waging a silent war inside him.

But he chose to silent them.

He lifted your leg over his hip, pulling you even closer to him. His body pressed against yours, and the last remaining layers of fabric between you felt like an unbearable barrier. He nipped at your earlobe, his voice a low, demanding whisper "I fucking need you so bad".

"I need you, too"

The way your words echoed his, the way you sounded so out of breath... It all kept clouding his judgement. He knew those words were dedicated to someone else, he knew your body was craving Junghoon, but the thought of his touch exciting you like that only made him growl deep in his throat.

His lips reached the apex of your thighs as he started moving down, pausing for a moment as he looked up at you. Your face was flushed with desire, your eyes darkened with need. He took a moment to memorize the sight before he gave in completely to his desires. Giving you one last look, he bent enough to sink his mouth sensually among your folds, the contact making you hum in pleasure almost instantly.

He ran his tongue over you, savoring the taste of you in his mouth. Your body writhed beneath his touch, your moans and gasps filling the room.. the combination of it all causing his chest to puff with pride, while his tongue dived deeper in you to get a better taste. Jungkook lost himself in you, driven by the overwhelming need to make you his, to make everything he had always dreamed of a reality.

Your moans, the sight of you, your reaction to his touch... it all drove him crazy with a primal need to possess you, to make you his in every way he had thought of ever since Junghoon introduced you to the family. He delved deeper, his tongue exploring you with a fervor that bordered on desperate. Jungkook craved more of those sounds, those sensations, those reactions.

You almost couldn't recognize yourself. The passion, the way your boyfriend was giving himself to you, the way he was sinking his mouth in you as if he wanted to eat you whole and then eat you again. You swore he made you let out sounds you haven't heard on yourself ever before.

"Baby, I need you" you moaned, almost with a plea.

Your words, the need in your voice, the way your body responded to him -it was like fuel to the fire. He wanted -no, he needed- to give you what you were asking for.

Licking your clit one last time, he moved up your body, making sure he showered with kisses every centimeter on the way to your face. Jungkook positioned himself between your legs again, his eyes holding your gaze. His fingers brushed against you, teasing, but never quite giving you what you want. His voice was a low, almost desperate plea:

"Are you ready for me, baby?"

You dedicated him a soft smile, before you nodded and placed your hands on his shoulders "Always".

Your answer, the look on your face -it teared away the last shred of restraint he had. With one movement of his head, he motioned you to get a condom, which you reached effortlessly at the bedside table to hand it to him so he'd wrap himself on the latex. 

His lips claimed your mouth in a deep kiss, while his length slid into you with one movement, filling you completely. It was strange, but he felt like coming home, finally being where he belonged.

For a second, the guilt installed in his brain, reminding him of what he was doing, of the place he was taking over, but how quickly you pulled from his neck and how you linked your lips together worked to get him back to the only thing that mattered: you.

You broke the kiss, moaning when he started moving, a low giggle adorning the room and making Jungkook the weakest he had ever felt. "Fuck, you feel bigger".

He couldn't help but smirk at your words, the need to hear more, to make you feel even more driving him forward. He lifted your leg over his waist again, his lips finding your ear as he murmured: "Is that a good thing, baby? Does it feel good?"

"So fucking good" you closed your eyes, dropping your head back.

He didn't know how long he stayed moving while just looking at you, drinking up all of your reactions, memorizing every small detail on your face with every new wave of pleasure, or the way your nails digged on his skin whenever he angled his hips to reach the right spot. You were so hypnotizing and addictive.

He was done being a viewer, he was the main character of the most devoted love story to ever exist.

Hearing you moan like that, hearing how good he made you feel, pushed him even closer to the edge. Jungkook bit down on your shoulder, just enough to leave a mark, as he tried to hang on just a bit longer. He picked up the pace, driving into you deeper, harder, his eyes fixed on your face, ready for the smallest sign to give you everything you could ask for.

When you opened your eyes, you didn't recognize the dark look in your boyfriend's eyes as he crashed into you, his pace was relentless, like he had been deprived from touching you for years.

Your hands moved instantly to his wrists, trying to find some stability as your body kept bouncing harder against the mattress. Jungkook intertwined his fingers with yours, holding onto you as if he never wanted to let go. He could feel your body responding to his, and could see how close you were.

"Give it to me, baby. Give me everything you have" he asked softly, your hands moving to each side of your head as his body bent over to cover yours.

He held your gaze, he took care of your body, and he walked with you to your high to make sure you wouldn't miss a single beat. Until you both turned into one, your bodies being a mix of shivers and electricity.

Jungkook held you tight, only letting go of your hands to wrap his arms around you and sink his face on the curve of your neck to inhale your scent. You were so his that it physically hurted.

"That was..." you thought for a few seconds, trying to come up with a word "new".

Jungkook curiously moved back to look into your eyes "New? In a good sense?"

"Yeah... Yeah" you nodded, huffing a laugh "Different, in a good sense though. It's just that..." you started to explain, feeling a bit nervous "you're usually so soft and slow, and careful and delicate".

"Am I?" Jungkook lifted his eyebrow, trying to wonder if he allowed his own needs to take control of himself and risk getting exposed. "I just got carried away. I'm sorry if I hurted you".

"Hoon, I've been asking you to be a bit rougher for months" you chuckled "Why are you apologizing? I liked it" while speaking, you tilted your head, looking at him "Maybe we should get even freakier next time".

For a second, Jungkook's lip twitched at hearing his brother's name on your lips, but he recomposed quickly after, letting a smirk be drawn on his face.

"You felt like a completely different person" you chuckled "I liked it".

Jungkook pecked your lips quickly, trying to get rid of the idea that he was indeed a different person.

"Shall we get something for dinner?" he casually asked, hugging you tight in his arms. He stretched his legs lazily,moving his face down to look at you, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. "How about we order something for dinner? I'm starving."

You blinked, surprised. "Order something? You usually insist on cooking after..." you trailed off, cheeks warming.

He tilted his head, the playful grin never faltering. "Figured I'd give us both a break. Besides, my cooking could use a little variety."

Junghoon always prided himself on his cooking, especially after moments like these. It was his way of grounding himself, of caring for you. Still, you shrugged off the unease. He probably was just trying to be thoughtful in a different way.

"What are you in the mood for?" you asked, shifting to grab your phone.

"Anything but Chinese food," he replied quickly. Too quickly.

Your fingers paused mid-air. "But...you love Chinese food."

Jungkook stopped, trying to think of what to say to get away from his own mess.

He hesitated, barely perceptibly, before chuckling. "Right. I meant, I've had enough of it lately. Craving something else."

You nodded slowly, letting it slide, but a faint buzz of doubt lingered in the back of your mind. As you scrolled through the menu options, he got up, moving to his pants on the floor.

His movements were fluid, confident, but lacked the familiarity you'd always known. The way he grabbed the fabric and tossed it on: it wasn't the usual meticulous way Junghoon folded and set aside his clothes.

"Pizza?" he suggested, his voice easy, casual. "Something simple."

Your lips curved into a small smile despite the growing doubts. "Sure, pizza sounds good."

As you placed the order, you caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. He was looking at you, but there was something in his eyes -a hunger, an intensity- that didn't belong to Junghoon. You shook your head, telling yourself it was all in your imagination.

After slipping into your clothes, the two of you left the room, the warm glow of the moment still lingering in the air. Junghoon walked beside you, his arm brushing yours occasionally as you both made your way to the living room.

"What time should the food get here?" he asked, glancing at you.

"About thirty minutes," you replied, checking the confirmation on your phone. "Plenty of time to relax."

Jungkook moved first, wrapping his arm around your waist to drag you with him over the couch, making sure both of you falled over it, your body almost over his lap, as he cuddled you tight. Something so simple as that had you instantly feeling better, instantly forgetting about any doubts or insecurities, vanishing that sense of unease and anxiety, to welcome comfort and love.

You didn't realize, but you started rubbing your cheek against his chest, while your hands held tight on his arms, your eyes closed while you allowed his scent fill your nostrils.

You were tired of being suspicious, and always ending on the worst of the conclusions, because small changes didn't always have to be for the worst.

If that was the first night of a new phase of your relationship, you'd gladly take it.

And something in him moved at your reaction. He was convinced he'd make you a million times happier than his brother ever did. It was as if the universe was telling him you were always meant to end up with him, because you molded together perfectly.

He, and only him, was everything you ever wanted, and he'd make sure he'd be the only thing you'd ever want. 

[twistedwonderlandshenanigans]

Long Term Effects Of Blot

I'm not writing this out the same way as last time. Anyways

I've always loved the idea of overblots having long-lasting effects on the body- like the immune system, when the body begins to sense an 'enemy', it'll take precautions to ensure it doesn't affect you as badly as last time. However the difference lies in things like viruses - COVID, for example, had way too many spike proteins to just give the SARS vaccine out. Sometimes there are mutations our body can't account for right away.

Applying this to blot accumulation - I think there needs to be a physiological response, and seeing as we know that once someone overblots, they are more likely to OB again, the symptoms are a little scary, especially since the topic is not very heavily researched.

General Symptoms

Darkening of blood vessels, specifically in the extremities

Exhaustion and fatigue (this is the body trying to shut down before any extreme emotions can be felt)

Loss of appetite

Lower magic throughput and output

Metallic taste in the mouth

Dizziness

Migraines (specifically only aura phase seems to be strong)

Severe dehydration

PTSD symptoms are exacerbated - more on this next

Those are all mostly physical reactions to the accumulation of blot - I also think that memories that are related to the reason someone overblots will worsen the symptoms.

I.e. When Riddle hyperfocuses on his work to the point of exhaustion, the tips of his fingers start to turn black and he begins hearing his mom's disembodied voice. Usually that Alone makes him go to bed.

When Leona and Falena get into disagreements, he has to keep a cool head otherwise a band of blot will form under his skin in the form of an upside down crown on his forehead.

When the tweels poke fun or tease Azul about his old eating habits, their voices imitate the sound of laughter from school children

Sometimes when Jamil is getting close to his limit with Kalim, his UM activates without him noticing as a stress response to make Kalim do as he says - nothing major usually, but it scares Jamil that his magic can do that.

If Vil has been stressed out and starts looking in the mirror too long, his reflection starts to change into something horrific.

Sometimes Idia wonders what would happen if he opened the gates again, if he did go find his brother. The soundtrack to the videogame they played before Ortho died starts playing in his head on loop, his tears black and burning until he can find something to distract himself.

Mal I'll wait on bc. not done the book but yknow

For my OC Viz, ((minor) spoilers if you haven't finished her lore fic - TW for gore/horror elements, demons, Child abuse, death, etc. Please read at your own discretion)

She overblots when she's a kid/fights her mom, but doesn't remember. Her symptoms are pretty persistent - even though SHE's not using magic directly, her gauntlets are using her magic in order to function + the intake of magic from other people/her surroundings is a contributing factor to her hallucinations and physical reactions to the other overblotters.

Anyways, Taglist: @nemisisnemi @theleechyskrunkly @lumdays @distant-velleity @elenauaurs @fluffle-writes @my-cursed-brain @starry-night-rose

DM to be added/removed

[spacegyaru]

cw: michael kaiser x afab! reader. all characters are aged 21. minors, dni! sexual themes ahead! virginity loss | reader is innocent | i tried making kaiser stay in character | huge angst. part two of this

imagine michael kaiser coming back to you, his childhood friend, only to be slapped by the reality that both of you are from different worlds now.

so kaiser actually came back after four years of being gone. that time, he was one of the starters in germany's biggest teams, while you were taking some culinary classes at the local community college. your parents want you to take over that bakery one day.

the first time you saw him in person after all these years, you didn't recognize him from a far, but as he got a little bit too close, your eyes widened. it was your childhood bff, kaiser. 

unlike the grumpy and furrowed brows he always wore, he now wears a confident and smug expression. nevertheless, you were happy to see him. he looked so much happier and healthier.

you couldn't help but to exclaim "mihya!" upon seeing him. you even hugged him in joy. 

kaiser felt that your touch was so warm. he was shocked by the hug at first but after few seconds, he returned it.

"it's been a long time." you said before taking a look at his face. he just gave you a smile in response.

you two tried to talk about things that's happening in your life right now. he told you that after his arrest, he was taken as a scholar by munchen bastard. so basically, soccer saved his life. meanwhile, you told him that your parents want you to take over the bakery so you took culinary programs and short courses. 

like before, you gave him free bread— which was now made by you, not your mom, and some coffee. 

you even let him taste the new pastries that you just added in the menu. you told him that you tried making some macarons and muffins. you told him that you sell it to kids for a cheaper price so they could afford it. if you have leftovers, you just give it to them. the bakery is in the slum area, so most of them didn't come from fortunate families.

kaiser just shook his head upon hearing your story. he tells you that it's just like you. he told you that you've always been nice, just like how you were to him in the past. 

honestly... kaiser wasn't like this before. he always wore a scowl on his face. but you like the new him. it seemed that he was really a lot happier. and you were happy for him. 

kaiser admitted that he didn't want to come back to this place because it brought back a lot of unpleasant memories to him, but you were the reason why he came by. he wanted to see you.

after that, kaiser became a regular. once a week, whenever he's free, he would come. 

in cameras, kaiser seemed to be really cocky and confident but inside your family bakery, he seem to be more quiet. when it comes to you, he becomes a listener— but of course, he's still smug and confident. maybe, it's because of his accomplishments. and you can't blame him for that.

peace was in between the both of you until about four months after his visit, the paparazzis who followed him took a photo of you both. you and him were laughing at the counter together. of course, this was a big scoop for them.

so that photo spread on social media, newspapers, and even made it to the news. it was an overwhelming experience, and you felt so naked in people's eyes. 

kaiser's management told him to lie low for a while but knowing kaiser, that did not stop him. he still continued to come over. 

until one day, he happened to be there while the reporters were bombarding your bakery.

"oh, she's my girlfriend." kaiser admitted with a smirk, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. this earned a :shocked face: from you 😲

after that, his management really grounded and guarded him from going outside. so he just asked his personal assistant and chauffeur to pick you up.

people in the slums swarmed around when they saw the fancy car that picked you up. when you asked why they were there, they said kaiser wants to see you. you were hesitant but you followed anyways. 

when you arrived at kaiser's luxury apartment, your eyes widened while they wandered and looked around. as a girl who grew up in slum area, this looked like disneyland to you. i mean, your house is one of the "fanciest" for slums, but this... this is FANCY. 

kaiser greeted you, wearing some sweatpants and some sweater. you just smiled at him and he asked you to sit on the couch.

he gave you a glass of wine, which you accepted— he smiled at how cute you looked when you held the wine glass with two hands. you couldn't help it because it looks like it's worth a month of sales from your bakery.

you both were catching up about things that happened that week. when things got silent after your little laughs with him, you asked him why he did that on his last visit. basically, he admitted that you're his girlfriend.

kaiser told you that he's actually already courting you by visiting you almost every time he's free. he said in a smug way that in his mind, you are his girlfriend, whether you like it or not.

you, as a naive girl, actually admitted your feelings for him ever since you guys were young. you told him how you loved how he protected you from kids in the slums and how it made you so happy that he reached success. you started crying tears of joy.

somehow, the both of you started kissing, which ended up in a heated makeout session. he even unbuttoned the blouse you were wearing and started lifting up your skirt.

your face started heating up, along with your ears, when kaiser carried you towards his bedroom. 

as both of you were making out on the bed with him on top of you, you stopped for a while and admitted that you're a virgin. 

kaiser smirked when you said that. he told you that he's gonna take care of you the rest of the night so all you have to do is lay down and let him do all the work.

his tongue was great and pleasured you real well. the way his hands gripped around your thighs while he eats you out was a new sensation for you. his fingers were in and out of your hole while eating you out.

kaiser teased your clit with the tip of his cock as he kissed you on the lips. he lubed it up with your wetness before pushing it inside.

it did hurt. you gripped his shoulder, leaving some scratches as he waited for you to adjust before he started moving. 

your first time felt heavenly, and you didn't expect it to be kaiser— the person who lived two worlds apart from you. 

the aftercare was great too. after you guys finished, he wiped you with a towel and ran a bath for you. when you told him about your white frilly skirt that got stained, he immediately asked his assistant to buy you some new skirt. you did not expect him to get some D&G skirt for you. you were hesitant to accept it, but eventually, you did because he kept insisting. 

when you guys were done, kaiser wanted to be the one to bring you home. until his secretary arrived and told him that he has to go training and attend a presscon. you swore, his secretary was glaring at you when he noticed you in the room. 

kaiser sighed and told you that his assistant and chauffeur would be the one to just take you home. he gave you a kiss before you go.

during the drive home, you were thinking deeply about this that's been happening. and you were sad that it wasn't kaiser who brought you back home. but you tried to understand. he's a huge star now.

it even hurt more when he never contacted or called you after that. 

you thought you'd be different from other girls who he admitted to have dated, but you realized, you were just some girl to be discarded. you didn't just lose someone. he was your best friend, your protector. 

you were even more bitter when weeks later, you saw him on the news. kaiser was going to be in france for a year to have some strict football training. when the media asked about you, he avoided the question. 

it left a sour feeling in your mouth. both of you really lived two worlds apart.

more parts??? idk convince me guys hahaha this wasnt proofread btw

[funhouse-mirror-barbie]

All of the background/minor characters in Helluva Boss are much more interesting than the main characters and I’m entirely certain it’s because they aren’t forced into the Stolitz universe and they’re the only reason I watch the show now.

Like, look at this imp family/single parent unit here.

They’re watching the trial, but before that the imp woman was washing dishes and the son was grabbing cookies off the shelf.

Hi! Thanks so much for reaching out.

I absolutely agree and I think there are a couple of reasons for this—

First—The imps actually have RULES for how theyre designed as a species.

These rules are really simple, and so pretty much anyone can design an imp.

1. Imps have red skin and yellow eyes.

2. Scars, birthmarks, freckles, and other skin markings are white

3. All imps have horns. Biologically female imps have black horns and black hair, and biologically male imps have white hair and white and black striped horns.

What’s nice is that, even with these general guidelines, there’s plenty of room for variation in designing imps. Some imp’s legs are bent like a satyr’s some have more human legs, they have varying lengths of tails, different body shapes and sizes, etc.

Idk if these design rules were in place for Imps as a species from the very beginning of the show, but I think having these rules helps A LOT because it means the character designers do have freedom to make unique and appealing designs, while not getting TOO crazy, which prevents them from being too over-designed:

(All character design sheets by Erin Frost—former artist and character designer for Helluva Boss)

Second—due to being background characters, they’re less likely to over-designed in general. This hasn’t always been the case (and sometimes still isn’t) with Hellaverse shows, especially Hazbin’s Pilot:

I don’t even think these are all necessarily “bad” or incompetent character designs on their own, but they have a lot of little details, and when they’re all squished together like that, it causes some pretty rough visual clutter. Charlie is supposed to by the main focus of the above shots, but she doesn’t really stand out from the background crowd.

Same with shot of Alastor watching the broadcast—he stands out a little better since he’s silhouetted, but the characters in the foreground having so much going on really detracts from Alastor as the main focal point.

This is also just like. Not a very good composition. I’m really not trying to be mean or rude but, the characters being so overly designed and having such similar color palettes really muddles things.

Also—because there are so many design elements trying to be incorporated at once, we sometimes end up losing all those little extra details that are added due to the visual clutter. I didn’t have any idea Alastor was a deer until like 2 years ago, because his antlers were so small I never noticed them. I thought he was an owl, tbh.

I think we get the most overly complicated designs when the character artists and designers are given like. 3 or 4 different themes or ideas that they have to blend together. Alastor is a deer AND a “radio demon” AND a practitioner of voudo. Angel Dust is a spider AND a mafioso AND a porn star. Some of those ideas absolutely end up being lost because so much is trying to be fit into the design.

The most infamous example of this is Queen Bee, who’s supposed to be a honey bee, lava lamp, fennec fox, party girl, and apparently also an animal tamer?

And I’ll be honest, I’m actually one of the few people who kind of likes her design. I think if you were to simplify her and take out a lot of the extra details, she could still be a fun sparkle dog-type character. But there’s so much going on with her, that a lot of her design elements get lost.

Like, apparently the little pink mark on her forehead is actually a closed eye??? Like I think it’s supposed to be an Ocelli, the third “eye” insects can have:

But it’s just like. Closed usually I guess. In theory, it’s not a terrible design idea for an insect character, but Bee has SO MUCH going on visually that this design choice gets entirely lost. I just thought it was like. A weird symbol on her forehead, and it took me AGES to realize it’s supposed to be her Ocelli or a third eye.

This happens a lot with more of the main characters in Hb and Hazbin, because they’re apparently supposed to be SO many different things that the character designs get too cluttered.

I think this is the main reason for a lot of the less appealing character designs in the Hellaverse, because they’re trying to be like. Ten different things at once. The imps avoid this fate though because, other than maybe their general profession and age, they’re supposed to be imps. They have those design rules we outlined before. I think thats what makes the biggest difference and is also why Mammon is actually the best design of the seven deadly sins because he’s literally just a round jester you look at him and your brain goes “yep that’s a jester” and youre not left trying to figure out what he’s supposed to be for 10 minutes. He’s not trying to be seven things at once. He’s a jester. With some extra arms. Sorry I was wrong when I said it was belphagor before. It’s mammon. Dudes literally just a jester.

[honeyhonest]

No but being in Yuu's shoes and being in a relationship with Eric can be fun to torture Vil, of course depending on the relationship between you and Vil. Vil is your ex-boyfriend who treated you badly? Fuck his dad. Vil is being a little shit to you and your friends? Fuck his dad. Vil is your enemy? I think you know what to do. He'll hate you more. Also, you can break his heart if he has a crush on you. It seems like all those scenarios are the same but they have those little differences that make them all unique in their own way. Well, the only thing that remains is that Vil has to put up with seeing you at school while you're with his dad.

Also, can we have a sugar daddy fight? I think Eric has the potential to be one of the best sugar daddies. A great rival would be Crewel. He seems to appreciate Vil too.

(By the way, I love Vil. So this isn't hate propaganda against him.)

warning for intoxication in this post lolz minors dni etc

I love vil also but sometime you have to torture the blond man a little yk

orz the possibilities... I love revenge sex in stories, I love drama, etc, my favorite of these is definitely the first except this: vil was a really good (perfect) boyfriend, but he dumped you right before/after graduating NRC so he could focus on his career. he told you he just couldn't imagine finding the time for a relationship with his schedule, and school was one thing, but now he's an ~adult~ and he needs to get serious about his career. it wouldn't be fair to stress and burden you with his work, after all

and you let him because, well, it's vil. once his mind is made up on something, it's almost impossible to dissuade him. you have friends, and you try to talk to them, but nothing really helps. not even rook can cheer you up

and one night you're really feeling it, the sadness, the loneliness, the rejection, maybe you're scrolling through vil's magicam and looking at his perfect life, how your absence meant nothing to him, and you're desperate for his comfort but you can't have that, so you have the next best thing. next thing you know, your ex's middle-aged father is taking you out for a drink and a talk to ease your worries. in the blur of alcohol and laughter, you think he almost looks like vil, but not so strict, not so stressed

he's very charming, too. how have you never noticed? before tonight he was always so cordial, friendly but distant. perhaps it's only the alcohol, perhaps you had just been so wrapped up in vil's glamor you never gave erik a second thought. but he's really quite funny, isn't he? he keeps making jokes, teasing you, it's almost friendly. and he's a flatterer, too, you're sure he's never complimented you so much in your life

but he's only trying to cheer you up, right? this was the man who was going to be your father-in-law, you thought

...but now he's just a man, and one who happens to be buying you plenty of drinks and complimenting your smile, at that

you both end up a little more tipsy than you'd meant to, but you're having fun, and for the first time in weeks, you're not thinking about... what was his name, again? you can't even bring yourself to mope, everything is a little blurry, isn't it?

and you both end up in his house, somehow, and he tells you that vil is doing a shoot in fleur city this weekend, so don't worry too much about waking him, you can make as much noise as you want, it's just you and erik

and it's you that ends up on your back, or on your hands and knees, or bent over the marble counter in the stupidly expensive kitchen, or, more likely, all three over the course of the night, getting stretched out on his cock, his grunts in your ear and his breath on your neck, telling you how good and beautiful you are, how long he's wanted this-

I think he'd like to see you, your stomach or thighs or back, covered in his cum when he's done. such a lewd position you never should have been in

and you tell yourself, in the morning, that it was just a spur of the moment thing. you were just emotional, you were both drunk, and alone, and it won't happen again

it will. it does. vil is going to have a queen-sized meltdown when he finds out, of course, but for now, y'know, being a sugar baby isn't that bad

you still find it a little ironic how erik, who is just as, if not more career-oriented than vil, still has time in his busy schedule to see you >_>

[teaandjumpers]

Obikin Clueless AU (WIP Wednesday)

“Blast,” said Obi-Wan as he stared down at the three ties laid out on his bed. 

Apart from some minor differences in color and texture, they all looked interchangeable to him. It was not something he should be fixating on, not with the signing a mere two hours away. 

A sharp knock pulled him from his thoughts, and he turned towards the sound to find Anakin leaning against the door frame. He was dressed for the occasion in flared high-waisted trousers, a semi-sheer ivory lace button down, and black loafers with no socks.

He looked more like a model from a high-end fashion magazine than the teenager who used to fly drones outside their home, repeatedly crashing them into Obi-Wan’s car, much to the younger man’s amusement.  

“What are you doing here?” asked Obi-Wan, surprised to see his step-brother back home from school, especially on this day. 

It wasn’t that Anakin didn’t support Obi-Wan’s appointment as managing partner of Qui-Gonn’s firm. In fact, he pushed for it more than anyone, grateful that the mantle wouldn’t pass to him, not having the patience for law and the often slow and tactful art of persuasion. 

The young man had found his passion in engineering, and with an Ivy League degree and a trust fund that had made Obi-Wan choke on a swig of Scotch upon hearing the size of it, Anakin could fund any project he wanted. Or he could do absolutely nothing for the rest of his life and fund other people’s projects, living in the type of splendor that was usually only seen in swanky Hollywood movies. 

But Anakin didn’t like to be idle. It was one of the things Obi-Wan admired about the boy—no, man. At twenty-five, Anakin was very much a man now, and he looked it, too, the way his chest had filled out, the way those long thighs broadened, the way his eyes smoldered, always looking like he was about to take the runway, strike a pose and glare. 

Obi-Wan used to tease him about it, saying things like, “I heard they’re hiring live models for the Versace window display, darling. You should look into it.” 

It would, of course, make Anakin glower even more, prompting the younger man to chase Obi-Wan around the many rooms of their mansion, ready to smother him with a pillow. 

Those were simpler times—before the moment. Before that night in the living room when Obi-Wan was sorting through depositions and Anakin, being the brat that he was, had plopped onto the couch, turned on wrestling, and started chewing on Pringles—loudly. 

“Do you mind,” Obi-Wan had asked, grabbing the remote out from under Anakin and turning off the television. 

“Actually, I do,” said Anakin, attempting to snatch the remote back but failing. “You can work anywhere, Obi-Wan,” he whined. 

“I’m certain you have two televisions in your room, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, holding the remote out of reach behind him. “And one in your bathroom.”

“Yeah, but this is the only room with a TV and a fireplace,” said Anakin, rising to his knees on the couch, attempting to use his height to snatch the remote. 

With one hand pressed firmly against the younger man’s chest, Obi-Wan managed to keep Anakin at bay. 

“You’re such a spoiled brat,” he said, looking up at Anakin with disbelief.  

“Well, you took the only other room with a fireplace, and you don’t believe in having televisions in the bedroom,” Anakin said, mimicking Obi-Wan’s accent.

Distracted by Anakin’s ridiculous attempt at mocking him, Obi-Wan was caught off guard when Anakin lunged at him and pulled the remote from his hand. 

“Ha,” the younger man said triumphantly, turning the television back on. 

On any other day, Obi-Wan would have left it. Would have left the room, let Anakin win, because Anakin almost never gave up on something once he set his sights on it, whether it was a person or getting his way on movie night. 

But that night, Obi-Wan was frustrated—they were falling behind on work, and Anakin, newly graduated from high school, had too much energy. He’d been bouncing through the house all day, and when Obi-Wan finally settled down in a space that Anakin had already torn through, he thought he was safe. 

Not so. And so Anakin, who had already turned his wrestling show back back on, who was reaching for the cylinder of Pringles that had rolled under the couch, didn’t expect Obi-Wan to grab him from behind, didn’t expect his step-brother to hook his arms beneath his armpits, locking the younger man’s arms up in a tight hold. 

Anakin grunted and tried to shake his way out of Obi-Wan’s hold, but it was no use. 

“You forget, I was captain of the wrestling team in college,” said Obi-Wan, huffing the words against the tousled mess that was Anakin’s hair. 

“Community college,” snorted Anakin, and that earned him a sharp tug of the arms, one that brought his body closer to Obi-Wan’s, making it so that Anakin was sitting on Obi-Wan’s lap, squirming in the older man’s lap, and then panting as his movements stilled, as he slid farther into Obi-Wan’s space until his back was pressed up against the other man. 

Neither of them spoke. Neither of them moved, save for the slow heaving of their chests and the soft shuddering breaths coming from Anakin. The fire crackled in the background and cheers sounded from the television, but Anakin stayed perched atop Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan held him there, the young man’s arms still suspended above his head. 

“They call this the Master Lock,” said Obi-Wan softly, relishing the clenching of Anakin’s jaw and the haughty but quiet “I know” that fell from his lips.

At least a full minute passed before Obi-Wan released his hold. Once free, he assumed Anakin would wrench his body away from him, ready to take up the fight again, but Anakin didn’t move. Or at least he didn’t move away. He turned his head, presenting his profile to Obi-Wan. His eyes were downcast, and it made the heavy line of his lashes even more pronounced. Anakin swallowed, and Obi-Wan tracked the slow path of the movement down Anakin’s throat. 

And then Anakin shifted. It was minute, nearly imperceptible, but Obi-Wan most certainly felt it, sitting so still beneath his legal but still very young step-brother. It was a slow rock of Anakin’s hips, not even a rock, but a slight pivot, the weight of Anakin’s hips pressing down then sliding back.

At first, Obi-Wan thought that maybe Anakin was trying to get up, get some momentum before sliding off of him, but then it happened again, the press of Anakin’s cheeks against his thighs and then he was shifting back, sliding closer and closer to his groin. When it happened one more time, the slow grind paired now with a low moan that slipped from Anakin’s pink, parted lips, Obi-Wan shot up from his seat and upended Anakin, too afraid to look back as he fled to his room. 

Obi-Wan had been careful to give Anakin a wide berth since then, not wanting to examine the very un-familial emotions that had coursed through him when he had Anakin on his lap. 

It wasn’t like they were actually brothers. Not by blood at least. But it was still frowned upon, and the other partners at the firm would undoubtedly reconsider appointing Obi-Wan their new managing partner if they knew there was anything untoward going on between him and his step-brother, the current managing partner’s son. 

“I thought you were still in Seville—living it up with Padme,” said Obi-Wan, softening his tone. He felt he might have been a bit too harsh to the younger man when he asked him what he was doing here. 

“I was,” said Anakin, approaching Obi-Wan’s bed and examining the ties alongside the other man. “But I couldn’t miss your big day,” he said, poking Obi-Wan with an elbow.

Obi-Wan glanced at Anakin’s profile. He was tanned, even more so than usual, and, dear god, he looked beautiful. His lashes were dark and his lips extra pouty, as if he had applied some kind of plumper to it. He really should have been a model, he thought, shaking the words away as quickly as they came.

“Perhaps you can help me pick out a tie for the event?” he asked. “Satine sent them, but they look identical to me.”

“Still letting your ex dress you, Obi-Wan?” Anakin teased as he leaned forward to examine the ties more closely. He turned his nose up at each option, then looked up at Obi-Wan, assessing his wardrobe. 

He eyed the dark blue pleated trousers and the fitted white dress shirt, the one Obi-Wan worried he was now sweating through. Anakin stepped closer, a mere foot separating them now. He brought a hand to Obi-Wan’s throat and undid one of the buttons of his collar. He pulled back to consider his work and unbuttoned one more. 

“No tie,” said Anakin with finality. 

“Did I miss that year where you minored in public relations?”

“Satine knows the press, but I know clothes,” said Anakin, unnecessarily readjusting Obi-Wan’s collar. “The partners chose you because they want someone practical to take over—someone pragmatic who’s not fussy. A tie is fussy.”

“And here I thought they chose me because I’ve only had three losses in my fifteen years of practice.”

“We’re all very impressed,” said Anakin, sarcastic. He smoothed out the nonexistent lines at the front of Obi-Wan’s shirt. Also unnecessary, thought Obi-Wan. 

When Anakin seemed satisfied with his efforts, he pulled away, turning towards the door. But he paused for a moment and turned back, biting his bottom lip before approaching Obi-Wan.

“I’m really proud of you, Obi-Wan,” he said, uncharacteristically sincere. 

It made Obi-Wan blink back at him in surprise, but what surprised him even more was when Anakin leaned in close and, after hesitating for a moment, gripped the thickest part of Obi-Wan’s arm and pressed a soft kiss on Obi-Wan’s cheek. 

When Anakin pulled away, his own cheeks were pink, and he glanced at Obi-Wan shyly. 

“You’re gonna be great,” Anakin said, and then he left Obi-Wan on his own, hours away from achieving one of his life-long goals.

Only now, all he would be able to think about was Anakin—Anakin and his impossibly long legs, Anakin and that obscene sheer shirt and the golden warm expanse of skin beneath it, Anakin and those eyes, those eyes that still grew dark when they skirted over Obi-Wan’s shoulders. Anakin and his soft, petal pink lips that were just moments ago pressed against the line where his beard met his cheek. 

Fuck. He was definitely sweating through his shirt now.

- - - -

(Anakin’s outfit)

[adobe-outdesign]

Origami brush review?

Origami was released in 2018 as the third-place winner in a pet poll featuring new colors (surprisingly as a brush—would've expected this to be a Lab Ray colour, but then again Lab Ray colours are a pain so I'm not really complaining). I think the idea behind this colour is solid—paper-craft pets is a unique idea that has both flexibility and consistency. Granted, I don't think most origami pets actually legally qualify as origami due to the clear use of scissors, but hey, that's just me being pedantic.

One big thing about origami as a colour is that it's gone through three distinct visual changes since its release. Originally, origami pets tended to be a single color with drawn-on features, and they tended to look somewhat flat. This was fine, albeit a little bland given that it's just a paper version of a base/simple colour. Then they started to become more three-dimensional, and started having normal eyes and mouths; pets from this stage might also have two colors in their design. I think these pets tended to be the worst looking, in that they neither look like paper nor look all that appealing in general.

Stage 3, however, brought a welcome shift: starting with the origami Korbat, the colour gained a distinct visual identity by including colored paper (usually with more muted/pastel colors, though not always). This was a fantastic move that added some much-needed depth to the color, and it fits perfectly with the theme. This stage also brought back the drawn-on eyes and a slightly more paper-y look. TNT seems to be sticking with this route for the time being, and I'm all for it, as all of the best looking origami pets fall into this category.

Origami was released post-customization, so no need to cover conversion this time.

Favorite Species:

Yurble: The origami Yurble has a lovely muted brown palette with a flower-patterned mane, and I think it looks lovely. The eye is drawn-on and manages to be two-dimensional without looking too flat, and the folds are pretty decent (the mane in particular looks very papercraft-esq.). The shading might be a smidge dark for paper, but that's a nitpick—otherwise, this one's very nice.

Korbat: The first origami pet to use patterned paper, the Korbat really knocks it out of the park. The patterning is kept subtle on the body to not overwhelm the design but is allowed to be more prominent on the accent areas, and the use of three colors works surprisingly well even though the darker blue wings aren't technically needed. I do think the face could've been a smidge more scribbly, but it's not too noticeable here as their eyes are already black.

Koi: I really like how the paper used for the fins here is both incredibly flat looking and also has a wave pattern to it, which makes a lot of sense thematically for a fish. The subtle patterning on the body is also a nice touch, and kind of mimics a Koi's natural markings. My only minor issues are that the eyes feel a bit dark, and I wish the whiskers were both the same pattern as the fins and flatter. Still, it's good overall.

Least Favorite Colour:

Kougra: The Eyrie was also a strong contender here, but I have to give it to the Kougra for not even looking like paper. Instead, between the very normal eyes and the weird flat folds overlaying a very three-dimensional body, it looks more like a regular Kougra wearing paper armor. The design is also just mostly solid orange (technically two different shades, not that there's enough contrast for that to matter), so there's not a whole lot of visual interest. The scribbly stripes are cute, but that's about it.

[lazysoulwriter]

Higher than ever. - Paul Mescal. +18! MDI.

okay thats.... if ur a minor, trust me, read this in another time of your life. feel free to ask me anything!

words: something like 1.3k

╭── ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ──╮

The sun was shining through your curtains, making you wake up from a hot dream with... Your best friend Paul? What the fuck? Your thoughts were confused but your panties are soaked. WHAT THE FUCK? 

Okay... He's hot. You can't help it but your mind leads you to him. To his body. To all the time you guys spend together. The way the touches you, hugs you and do ANYTHING for you. But... You were just friends. That thoughts have to get out of your head. 

You check your phone just to see a message from him. 

"heyo! u up?" 

"yeah yeah" 

"great. coming in 20. gonna bring some breakfast and a FCKNG nice weed that I found"  

You don't even have to answer. He's always like that, coming to your apartment with just a little warning. Never asking. — he doesn't have to, actually. 

You get up and go to the bathroom to push away those dreams, take a fast bath and get ready for the day with comfy clothes – a gym shorts and a white tank top. IT WAS A HOT DAY OKAY. 

You heard him at the door, calling your name instead of ringing the fucking doorbell. 

"Mr Paul Mescal, welcome..." You joke, giving space for him to come in.  

"Hello baby," he places a kiss in your cheek. Always been like that. "All dressed up for me?" He chuckles. 

"Fuck you."  

You guys sit on your couch, and started eating the waffles he brought. You could feel something different in the air.  

"Something happened?" You asked taking a sip from his cup of coffee. 

"No, not actually... Why?" He frowns his eyebrows looking at you.  

"Don't know... You seem... weird." 

"So do you!" He shrugs with a little smile on his face. Looks like HE KNOWS. 

You try to ignore that and keep talking to each other. He takes the things you ate to your kitchen, and come back to you smiling like a child. 

"Oooh you can’t believe what we're gonna smoke right know" He says taking his things out of his pocket. "Can I roll a blunt right now?" 

"Sure! Let's see this shit. 

When he was rolling, you started noticing so much his hands. The way his fingers were doing everything just right... You feel something weird. Again. But when he licks to close it, you felt your core ache. He looked at you immediately, like he fucking knew. "What?"  

"N-Nothing..." You tried to laugh.  

He just shrugged again and light up the blunt. He takes a deep drag and give it to you, that does the same.  

"Okay, okay... that's a good one." 

"I TOLD YOU!" He laughs and bite his lip unconsciously, but it makes you keep reminding of the fucking dream. literally fucking.  

At the end of it, you were both high and laughing at the silliest things you could imagine. His eyes were a little red and he looks so relaxed. He was wearing one of those fucking shorts, showing off his fucking legs.  

"Paul..." you started in a middle of a laugh. "You look really hot in that shorts, you know?"  

He blushes a little, but smile at you. "So do you..." his eyes were on your legs right now. "You look so hot, actually..." he licks his lips and smiles. 

After some minutes of silence, you both knew what's going on and don't even have to verbalize it.  

When you notice, you were on his lap, kissing him desperately. "Hey, hey, hey..." He breaks the kiss to look at you. "Are you okay with this?" 

"Yes, Paul, stop!" You tried to kiss him again, but he won't let you, making you whimper.  

"No... is like..." he stops, trying to find the right words but seems to give up. "I've wanted to fuck you so bad for so long, that if we started, I won't stop."  

Instead of answering him, you just kiss him again, slowly and passionate. You grind on his already hard cock, making both of you moan in each other's mouth. He squeezes your butt just the way you dreamed last night, making you giggle.  

"Are you really laughing? You're such a slut, huh?"  

He takes your right breast on his hand, massaging and then picking your nipple. All in a slow pace, making you crazy. When he's about to do the same with the other, you stood up and look at him. He looks a fucking hot mess. His hard cock against his shorts, his hair... my goodness. Before he can protest, you take off your shirt, showing your pierced nipples that he knew, but never saw. He smirked at the vision, taking one hand to his dick. Looking at you with so much desire in his eyes. You take his shirt off, giving you the perfect vision of that man. He was still giving his dick some strokes before you kneeled in front of him.  

You take his hand away, to replace with yours. He hissed at the sensation. You look at him, with a pure innocent look, receiving a smirk back.  

He opens his legs a little more, giving you more access to him. You caressed his tights and slowly goes to his shorts. "Can you take it a little down for me?" You asked, and he immediately puts his shorts and underwear away, you don't even see where it goes. You never thought he was little, but never thought it was THAT big. You bite your lip while stroking his dick. When you put the tip in your mouth, you could already hear him moaning and taking your hair into his hands. It was so sexy hearing him like this, with his dick in your mouth.  

You could feel your pants soaked with this and you can't help but start massaging your pussy for some friction. You both were already a mess and it was just starting.  

"Get up," he commands with a firmly voice. "Now."  

You obey him, getting up just to be putting on the couch, ass up for him. He slaps your butt so hard you know it was leaving marks for a week. But you don't fucking care. You are a mess in moans when he started to massaging your pussy, that was soaked and ready for a dick like never before. "Can I?" he asks, with his tip on your entrance.  

"Of course, just fuck me already!" 

With those words, the next thing you hear was another slap before his long and thick dick fills you. You both let out a loud moan, it was like heaven. He started slow, but intense. Making you go crazy. You were in a position that you can't see his face, but you exactly how it is. And knowing that is Paul inside of you, after all those years, makes everything better. 

His movements started to get fast, and you feel his strong arms around your waist. The sounds are so erotic. The sound of your wet pussy on his dripping dick, his moans, your moans, everything. 

"Paul... Yes... Like th-OH," You feel your orgasm so close that you can even see anything anymore. "I'm cumming..." You whispered in your breath.  

"I can feel that... That's... Wow.." His pace started to get sloopier, and he turns you around, so you can see each other.  

He still pounding into you, looking right into your eyes. "I'm gonna cum, baby." He said and takes his dick to your stomach, spreading his juice all over your stomach and breasts. 

Before you say anything, he takes you up and take you both to your bedroom, going to your closet and getting a towel to clean you up. Such a gentleman. 

And just then, he lay down your side, still breathing hard.  

He looks at you and smile, taking you to lay down on his chest. 

"Just so you know..." He started. "I've been in love with you since we're teenagers." 

"Yeah... Me too." You said laughing. 

And with some caresses, you both sleep after the sex of your lives. 

[bonne-chanson]

Hello! I’d like to make a request! It would be a fem!reader x Fukuzawa. I’d love something that shows the kind and gentle side of his character when he's with someone important to him. A light smut is fine; I really enjoy it when there's romance. Thank you!

a/n: wahhh thanks for being the first to request! i assume you’re also the other account im my inbox who requested for the same thing? :0 haven’t done this in a really long time (i’m talking years lol) so please bear with me if it’s still a little bland :< hopefully i can continue practicing my writing skills as time goes on! ACKKK i feel like this turned into a mild character study too so pls forgive me if this work isn’t the best :’( this is actually my first time writing for fukuzawa so i hope you still enjoy! ♡

softer steel

✑ character/s: yukichi fukuzawa x fem! reader

✑ short desc: beneath a dense exterior lies a vulnerability he can share only with you.

✑ content includes: fluff ; established relationship ; slight character study(?) ; mild nsfw (making out, MINORS DNI!) ; suggestive themes towards the end (not explicit, implied only) ; no plot, it’s really just reader and fukuzawa being mushy-mushy w/ one another

✑ word count: 1.1k words

Yukichi Fukuzawa is the living embodiment of the very same katana he keeps in the saya attached to his waist.

Much the same way a swordsmith crafts the blade so carefully to aid its master in combat, his upbringing had also molded him to be the warrior he is today — trained finely in one of the best government-funded martial arts schools, honed to perfect both his body on the field and his mind with battle strategies, and eventually layered enough to harden himself against whatever the world decides to throw against him and the armed detective agency that he leads. It is for those reasons that, of course, similar to the tamahagane used to create his sharp blade, he had quite the steely demeanor and personality, a direct result of the circumstances he had grown with.

But too sharp a blade and too pure a hardened steel makes for a brittle sword — one that, over time, when used with the kind of violence it was made for, will quickly shatter. Hence, the katana is also forged specifically to have a softer, much more vulnerable material enveloped by the denser steel, giving it the added strength it needs and rendering it malleable enough to cut through anything with the right precision.

For all that density his façade carries, just like his katana, Fukuzawa still holds onto that softness and vulnerability inside just for you.

You, who he holds so close and dear to himself, because you were the only person who could help him overcome anything by your presence alone; you, who balances out the harder shell he has grown over time with your softer presence; you, whom he looks after like you are the most precious gem he could ever hold in his hands; and you, who is always there to greet him when he comes home, allowing him to let go of everything even just for a while within the comfort of the walls of your home, all because your warmth and your love put his oh-so sharpened mind at ease.

Coming home to you today is no different. Per usual, he slides his haori off his shoulders and folds it neatly, placing it on a nearby table for now, releasing a long-held sigh from his lips, and eventually making his way into the safety of your arms.

That softness beneath his steely demeanor only ever surfaces around you, his beloved, and it’s something you never cease to cherish.

“Yukichi,” you call, his head resting on your chest as you thread your fingers through his hair. The gesture feels so light and loving, a stark contrast to the heavier blows he performs with his blade in battles.

He says nothing, simply responding to your call by pulling his head away (much to his disappointment) to face you, cupping your cheek with a gentle hand, calloused by the many hours of practice he spent in his younger years. For the briefest moment, he soaks in the feeling of your breath mingling with his own before his lips gingerly place themselves on yours and the sound of your breathless sigh is swallowed by him.

Wandering fingers make their way into his hair again, playing with his silvery strands, every so often giving them the kind of tugs you know he likes. No matter how many times you pull away to take in another breath, he comes forward again and again to capture your lips, and his hands eventually roam to hold your hips, drawing you closer to himself. It was almost as if he wanted the heat of the moment to melt you both into each other, unknowing of when breaths are taken and where one action ends and another begins until your breaths are in sync and you both mold together into one.

Those same rough, calloused hands of his that hold you so tenderly guide you along, eventually laying you down on his futon, and when he lifts his head to catch a glimpse of you all flushed and breathless, he makes a silent promise to himself to hold you in his heart forever, to remain vulnerable inside just for you.

A hint of a smile graces your lips as you hold his cheek and he leans into your touch, kissing the palm of your hand.

“You’re a lot more affectionate today than usual,” you muse aloud to your lover, but your voice remains a hushed whisper simply to keep the atmosphere of the scene between you two as serene as it is.

He smiles down at you, holding the hand that cradles his face. “Is it so wrong of me to indulge in my love for you like this?”

To many others, Fukuzawa was a man who held himself with the kind of grace and authority that every fellow leader could acknowledge without hesitation. But right now, on his futon, with you beneath him, the quiet ambience of the rustling leaves, the mellow glow of Yokohama’s sunset through the open window and the breeze caressing your faces, he was simply Yukichi, your Yukichi, the man whose heart was as soft as the steel enveloped by the dense blade of his katana.

“Stay with me like this,” you murmur, eyes hooded as his lips near yours again, “just for a little longer…”

He takes his time with you, making sure your comfort comes first before his own. Feathery light touches combined with peppered kisses along your jaw and the skin of your neck, down to your collarbones with his lips tracing your chest dizzies you, and when his hands slowly pull at the obi wrapped around your waist to loosen your yukata, you are a goner. The gentle caresses of his fingers along every little scar and mark along your body and his honeyed words meant for your ears only make you fall deeper in love, and you can’t help it — your heart is as soft as he is for you, so time becomes nothing more than numbers on a clock when you both allow yourselves to indulge in one another for the evening, to let him take care of you in ways only he knows how.

And as you both melt together in each other’s arms, embraced by the warmth of the setting sunrays, he is reminded yet again of just how valuable it is for him, for any man for that matter, to hold onto his vulnerability under his harsh exterior, for a katana to be forged with milder steel inside its tougher shell.

Yukichi Fukuzawa’s past, the circumstances he had faced then, and the rest of the world may have hardened his demeanor, but the softness that lays inside that steely façade still exists and will continue to exist only for you.

a/n: given the large influence of the samurai on bsd fukuzawa’s character and background in martial arts (considering his real-life counterpart was born into a family of samurai), i thought it would have been fitting to try and incorporate that in this work. :} that being said, i’ve listed down some of the terminology that may be worth explaining / i’ve done a little research for. please correct me if i am wrong!

✑ katana: traditional curved blade. this is the weapon fukuzawa chooses to fight in combat and was a sword used by the samurai. if you want to watch the process of making one (as referenced in this work to explore fukuzawa’s character), click here!

✑ saya: the sheath used to hold the katana.

✑ tamahagane: the steel used to forge a katana.

✑ haori: traditional jacket that fukuzawa wears.

✑ obi: a sash worn with the kimono (in this case, a yukata).

✑ yukata: a lighter, more casual version of the kimono, which fukuzawa also wears.

[rawliverandgoronspice]

Ok, so since you're in gamedev, I'm curious about your perspective on patenting gameplay mechanics, like how the Ascend mechanic was patented prior to ToTK's release. I know Nintendo aren't the only ones doing this, but how common of a practice is that in general? And do you think there's any merit to it or no?

Heyyy sorry I was having a very busy week/weekend, so I kind of left this ask to the side given this is a pretty complicated subject, but here we go!!

So... Basically, my opinion is that it's mostly a bullying method for big corporations, and what seems like a tentative to protect one's work for smaller individuals/entities that they can't realistically enforce anyway. To me, and many devs, it's considered poor etiquette at the very least, especially given the highly iterative nature of gamedev and the extremely specific application of any given idea. The fact that the boundaries of tolerance and how aggressive a company will be at protecting what they feel they own (and here something as nebulous as an intellectual concept and context-less execution) will generally be blurry at best, especially since it's super hard to parse what could be considered inspiration VS what is derivative in a game mechanic, it tends to merely discourage innovation from smaller studios in that specific field, while still having bigger companies perhaps risking a lawsuit because they have already assessed they could cushion the consequences if it does come to that.

As often with copyright laws, but perhaps even moreso here, it dabbles in the corporate justice system, and it is a system that will always disproportionately protect the wealthy, the influencial and the powerful, while leaving people without resources extremely vulnerable. Imagine being a small studio trying to patent your cool mechanic, and then a giant like Riot Games waltz along and decides to steal your mechanic anyway. Can you afford the money to stay lawyered-up for years? Can you tolerate the stress of this David and Goliath situation, or existing in the public eye, or the potential smear campaigns, etc? And if you don't want to enforce your rights due to a lack of resources, your rights may as well not exist.

So I am personnally pretty much against the practice on this basis alone, even discounting how that approach runs counter to the very community-based spirit of game design and game studies. The goal of any self-respecting game designer should be to craft the best possible experience for players. It's good to protect yourself, your living, your place in history of course, but freezing the course of that history for little more than greed... It's not really well considered by a lot of devs that I know.

[chalkscrub]

revisiting my roots as an artist - never sketching, never planning, and going straight to the inks. and also drawing traditionally again. with some digital colours

speaking of my roots as an artist, so many people say my art is cute/storybook/wholesome vibes which is funny cause i started off drawing a lot of bloody evil gorey demon things. 14 y/o me would not be happy with me for going down the route i ended up taking - i wanted to be edgy.

[seawitchkaraoke]

y'all have got to learn the difference between actively harmful malicious shit and imperfect allyship bc i am so tired of the people that actually try to do good getting torn down and yelled at for every even slight perceived misstep while the people who do not give a rat's ass get to just keep doing their thing bc oh well we don't expect them to know any better