#and its fun to work backwards

[loveshacks]

ok when alex hirsch says they worked backwards with stan to fill in what about his childhood made him so lonely and needy, i have to also wonder what happened in fiddleford's childhood to make him the way he is

[moonshynecybin]

7, 12 and 16 for the writers asks !!!

oh and also, if you don’t mind, i know you write AND draw and was wondering if you rather consider yourself a writer who draws or an artist who writes or both equally or nuance etc? but only if you care to answer obvs!

@matchvedev

7. your preferred writing fonts

whatever god gives me... so typically ariel but in academic writing i go and format it immediately into times new roman. idk what if i said papyrus what would yall even do. KILL ME ?

12. a trope youre really into right now

mpreg mthursday... idk i am always turning over ways to Fix the Rosquez Problem and/or things that would make them worse and crazier people. and a baby is BOTH like i HAD to write a fic abt it... you cant avoid each other now geniuses... other than that, i do like to look at the rosquez fanfiction miasma and turn over what sorts of stuff you would classically find in a healthy fandom that hasnt been done yet/hasnt been done in my own style yet, like when i wrote genderbend and time travel and now mpreg. just the classics that can make my brain go brrr and make marc/vale's sound like old gears clanking together, so im thinking over what would be next... im toying w some version of forced proximity curse but idk we'll see

16. fav place to write

recently i've been writing so much on the clock tbh so the second floor of redacted public library has seen so much... after that i like to do it on my couch or in my little corner armchair... cozy...

writer or artist?

immm every womannnn therye allll in meeeeee... idk i dont tie myself too much to an identity as a fandom content creator or whatever bc i think that can get a little transactional! this isnt a job im not an employee theres no niche i have to work to fill... im a writer when i feel it im an artist when i feel it and im a silly joke poster when they pop into my brain. so for MEEE this is something i do to stave off the crush of boredom and talk to cool smart people and have a laff <3 and like for example. ive very purposefully kept away from monetizing my art irl so it doesnt become a chore and remains a passion !!! and i try to do that here

[moominvalley-state-of-mind]

Hey anyone else like making cohesive storyline for media that dosnt really need one

Or am I the only one who has like three or four full Google sheets of headcannons and timelines

[fortecircuit]

Virux verses:

Main verse:Takes place during the main story of wuthering waves,virux works again with the black shores as a bloom bearer under close watch do to the nature of their low resonance stability , as well as the side effects from the experiments they went through with the Fractsidus,they wish to try to understand the world again with a better perspective .

Fractsidus passing:Captured on a mission ,and taken to an unknown location ,virux was experimented on by a few researchers who worked along with the fractsidus (as well as some who used information from old court of savantae) due to the nature of their forte and connections to Tacet discors ,the picked and prodded at them for days,until they found a way to keep virux under a certain control-

Hsr verse: Once human left on the brink of death was only to be seen as food left to keep a small group of sting at bay but something else happened a cocoon appeared....as the days passed and passed "the human" has grown wings,,horns--parts of their body became like a had shell ... they were becoming something completely --different .Destruction -Quantum- (Lorepath- the propagation) Reference

ZZZ verse: TBA

[crystalpallette]

I love making dumb overcomplicated hairbows themed after gacha game alts

[jam-packed]

bwoah

sketch of mm in the thing im writing. at 3k and not even close to the plot yet (i am insane)

[realjem]

Went back and finally started working on the delilah painting I started almost a full fuckin year ago let's go baybee

[magnesiumxp]

k going back to sleep again zzzzzzz (its 3 pm) lalalala

[chronic-conjuring]

Warning: this is a bit of a rant but..

Honestly the fact that anyone tries to argue otherwise is insanely stupid imo. It has ALWAYS been extremely clear that Roddenberry wasn’t only far ahead of his time but also very aware of the time in which he lived.

The only reason TOS didn’t have openly gay characters is because he knew it’d get his show taken off air and felt that he had enough of other very important messages to wait for the right time for that. Honestly I have a personal theory that all that subtext and intense queer undertones between Kirk and Spock were an attempt to covertly portray them as a couple. I haven’t seen anyone talk about that in-depth as of yet but I’m sure someone has done a deep dive on it. The subtext and energy between them feels to well poised to be a completely incidental theme especially since Gene knew people were writing gay fanfic of them and wanted that content.

I cannot express how much I despise Rick Berman’s interference with my favorite Star Trek series. I feel that they could’ve been so much better in so many ways if he could’ve just been kicked to the curb or at least consistently overruled like he deserved. I don’t particularly care that he was there to “ensure” the shows got aired without too much controversy, that man’s very obviously homophobic and pushed back against VERY LOUD AND OBVIOUS INTEREST in there being LGBT characters among the main cast and the audience. Johnathan Frakes ASKED to have Riker be depicted as being at least bisexual by changing his one love interest to identify as a man instead of a woman. Fans ASKED directly for gay characters, practically begged for it with Garak and Bashir, and Roddenberry himself said he wanted to include them BECAUSE IT WAS TIME TO DO SO.

All this is to say, I think Rick Berman might be a major factor in why so many people seem to have this bizarre idea that Star Trek isn’t supposed to be progressive media making commentary on complex social issues. He actively suppressed the voices and depictions of marginalized groups, especially queer representation, and I do genuinely think that was harmful to the show and its fans as well as the progression of LGBT acceptance at large. By trying to appeal to conservatives (why you would even want to with a premise like Star Trek is The Privilege Talking imo) he alienated a large portion of the already existing fan base and then continued to shove us aside in favor of keeping things “palatable enough” or whatever for television. He pandered to an audience that I feel the show wasn’t really meant to speak to, and now that audience seems to insist that older Trek just wasn’t progressive. The fact he succeeded Roddenberry is one of my biggest gripes with the franchise, and I think he actively made those series worse in a lot of ways. Many of which are ABUNDANTLY clear in Voyager imho. Who the Fuck decides to make a character that’s canonically TWO YEARS OLD DATE A 34 YEAR OLD????. I personally don’t really give a fuck that she’s considered an adult and fully grown by her people’s standards, there were better ways to go about that. In fact I found Kes’s relationship with Paris more compelling and less creepy than her relationship with Neelix. The age gap is extremely creepy to me and I personally don’t feel it was ever actually properly addressed (obligatory disclaimer that I have not gotten around to finishing Voyager. It legitimately just isn’t one of my super liked series so far and Chakotay as a character makes me want to throw things at concrete in anger) But it’s stuff like that and the ridiculousness of Seven of Nine’s costume being so tight that Jeri notoriously had problems being able to breathe in it that diminishes some of the intent and core messaging of the show, at least for me personally.

Anyways if you think trek is “too woke” or suddenly progressive you’re kind of stupid as fuck my guy and I’m not convinced we’re ever really paying attention to what media you were consuming. A lot of themes in earlier trek have become more commonly accepted up to present day, of course you’re not gunna look at the episodes that proclaim “Racism Bad” and “Save the Whales” and think of them as being necessarily progressive and radical ideas in our day and age. And guess what!! That’s because the show did its part to normalize that stuff!! Shocker!!

A reminder that Gene Roddenberry's intent of Star Trek was that it was always meant to be a commentary of modern society.

[svnd14ll1ng]

back awake ... working on expanding what i have into a more solid structure. so verse chorus maybe bridge etc . plus also just the start of some lyrics so i can have that vocal melody laid down. got through four out of nine songs so hashtag progress !

[moonsavior]

I have to draw something for Planned Crush im sorry

[jojolimons-arts]

stuff i made for school :]

[mostly-imagines]

Doghouse

dick grayson x afab!reader

aka dick’s in trouble…

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, implied smut, discussion of sex

“Baby…”

You don’t look up from your book as you hum, “Hm?”

“You’re being mean,” he pouts from the end of the couch.

You purse your lips. “If I am, you deserve it.”

His head lulls backwards pathetically, “I don’t deserve this. No one deserves this.”

You ignore him, scanning over the words littering the page with little thought.

He takes your lack of response as an invitation to climb up the couch a bit, just close enough that he can nibble kisses at your neck.

“Come on, I’ll make it up to you,” he promises.

You roll your eyes, flipping to the next page in your book as his hands feel up your waist. He’s apologized a few times already, but you’re not ready to let it go. He’d bailed last minute on your date nights one too many times and you’ve had enough. So if no sex is the only thing that seems to get his attention, no sex it is. You’re not mad, not really, but if you can give him a taste of the neglect you’ve been feeling, well…

He continues despite the lack of acknowledgement, pestering on. “This is deprivation of nourishment.”

All in all, he’s really not putting up his best argument. He could be doing better work, much better work, and you’re certainly not going to let him off so easily.

“I don’t care.” You move the book you’re not really reading up higher, removing him from your line of sight.

Sensing the challenge, he takes the book from your hands, tossing it blindly out of reach. It lands with an unflattering thump on the hardwood. You gawk at him, but he doesn’t notice, too busy minding his own motivating force.

He pulls you further down the couch, so he’s face level with your stomach. The top of his hair tickles you as he kisses below your navel, hands holding you in place firmly by your waist.

“Baby,” he murmurs against your skin, dragging his lips over. “Please, please let me eat you out.”

You cross your arms over your chest, glaring at the wall.

He rests his chin gently over your stomach, peering up at you with puppy dog eyes. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of eye contact.

This pushes him to borderline pouting, huffing, “Come on, you’re not having any fun like this either.”

Yeah, but it’s more torturous for him than it is for you.

His lips edge at the seam of your underwear, and his fingers hook under the elastic as he looks up at you expectantly.

You take a deep breath upon the sight, steeling yourself.

“No.”

He lets out an honest to God groan and drops his forehead against your stomach, whining.

You push him off of you, though he does most of the work of shifting his weight for you. You stand up from the couch and retrieve your book from its place on the floor, flipping through it to refind your page as you move for the bedroom door.

“You’re gonna leave me like this?” he calls out at you, watching you leave.

You shrug, “Take care of it yourself.”

“Myself?” He gapes, like he’s shocked at the audacity of the suggestion.

He stands up quickly, scrambling after you into your room.

He watches as you plop down onto the bed, pretending like you’ve got the concentration to keep on reading.

He pouts in the doorway, both surprised and annoyed with your commitment to making him suffer.

At this point he can take care of you better than he can take care of himself, and God knows he prefers to. So it’s bordering on inconceivable that you could have gotten so mad at him as to take away his privileges to do his very favorite thing in the world.

So he snatches your book straight from your hands again—just as you’d found the right page, too—and holds it up high.

“Dick Grayson!”

You swat at him and try to grab it back, but he’s too quick and too tall.

You kneel on the bed, reaching up in a fruitless effort before you drop your arm at your side, glaring.

He raises his chin, silently imploring you.

“Talk to me.”

You roll your eyes, “I am talking to you. I’m not sleeping with you—”

He shakes his head, “No, you’re still mad.”

“And you think this is what’s gonna help?”

He throws his head back. “You’re killing me,” he whines.

“Good.”

“What’s the plan here? Neither of us get to come ever again?”

You all but throw your head back, “I think it’s pretty fucking bold of you to assume that I rely exclusively on you to come.”

He levels you with a look.

“You do though.”

You gape at him. He says it with such self-assurance, so matter-of-fact that it’s not even a joke. And you know what? Yeah, he’s right you do, but you are nowhere near ready to give him the satisfaction.

So, you did something that you knew would piss him off.

“I—” you pause. “Fine.”

You dip your hand underneath your waistband, prepared to prove your fucking point.

“Don’t—” he bats your hand away. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He gawks at you, keeping an arm between your hand and your body. “That’s my job.”

You push his arm, with minimal real effort. “It’s my body!”

“You really don’t want me to touch you? Really?”

He levels you with that look he knows you can’t rebound from, giving you no room to squirm away.

Your chin lowers out of pure habit and your mouth shuts. He takes the opportunity to drop the book on the bed, scooping up both your wrists in one go. He pulls them up above your head and holds you against the bedroom wall.

“What can I do?” he asks lowly, face only inches from yours.

You glare at him, not trying to escape his hold.

“You can fuck off.”

“I’m serious,” he says with a roll of his eyes.

You raise your eyebrows as to say, ‘yeah, I am too, buddy.’

“I’ll do whatever you want. Just let me have my girl.”

You tug your hands out of his grasp, and he lets you without complaint.

You huff, looking at him.

“You have to take me out on a date tom—a real date—tomorrow night, the whole night, flowers and everything.”

He’s nodding along with your words eagerly, terms he couldn’t be happier to agree to.

“Even if some vigilante shit comes up—”

“Of course, of course.”

“…and do what you said before,” you say, quieter.

“What did I say before?” he asks, like he truly can’t remember.

“Dick,” you warn.

He smiles, perfectly content to let you off easy.

He leans forward, kissing you deeply but with an air of sweetness.

“I’m sorry I missed our date, pretty girl. I’m so sorry.”

Your shoulders noticeably relax and you take a deep breath, nodding.

“Yeah,” he says as he kneels down on the ground. He grins up at you as he hooks your leg over his shoulder. “I’ll take care of my baby, of course I will.”

☀️ i’m worried the sun will go out soon if you don’t start reblogging fics ☀️

[antlereed]

time to punch some bugs

[rainy-day-gracie]

--- turn me to ashes

no-outbreak!joel miller x babysitter!reader

summary: Joel catches you with a cigarette.

warning(s): shameless smut, D/s sexual dynamics, power imbalance due to employment (babysitter), implied age gap (reader in her twenties), pre-established relationship (D/s and fwb), consent is sexy MANDATORY, unprotected piv, rough sex, manhandling, spanking as a punishment, impact play (leather belt), fingering, choking, subspace, SWEET SWEET AFTERCARE, able bodied reader, joel can carry reader because he's a big man, dom!joel miller + soft!joel miller, soft cuddles following rough sex just because

wc: 3.2k

a/n: heyyyyyy... how y'all doin'..... can be read on its own, or can be read after taking care !!

diet mountain dew -> take another drag, turn me to ashes

gracie's masterlist

---

You didn’t mean for Joel to catch you with the cigarette. 

But delight curled in your stomach when he found you in his backyard, the blowing smoke into the warm night. 

He was pissed. That much was obvious. You didn’t even bother hiding the cigarette behind your back, because his eyes fixated on it between your fingertips. 

In truth, the day had been complete shit. Class after class, roommates causing drama, your other job breathing down your neck, putting on a bright smile for Sarah despite the heaviness of anxiety slung across your shoulders… you were desperate for a reprieve. Desperate for a firm hand. Desperate for a reminder of who you belonged to. 

So, the cigarette. And Joel. 

“What the fuck are you doin’,” he drawled, voice low and warning. You’d never seen him this heated. 

You take another drag leisurely, and give him a shy smile. “Didn’t wanna stink up your house.” “Hm.” Joel stalked towards you, still in his work boots and jeans, his white work shirt stained with dust and grime. He looked tough, and dirty, and you wanted to sink to your knees when he cocked his head. “Wanna tell me what that is?”

You flick some ash into the dirt, bringing the cigarette to your lips for a drag. “I think you’ve seen one before, Joel–”

As quick as a snake, Joel’s rough hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling your chest to his with an assured jerk of your arm. 

The cigarette smoldered between you, poised for your lips, but was held firm by Joel’s grip on you. The anger in his eyes made your chest pang with anticipation, and your stomach curled with bratty defiance.  

“Don’t want to be my smoking buddy?” You asked innocently, batting your eyes at him over the burning stub. You smiled, feeling brash. “What about Tommy?”

His eyes flared, and you smirked, knowing you had him. He’d complained about his brother’s bad habit more than once. 

“Think he’d be my smoking buddy?”

In an instant, Joel grabbed the cigarette from between your fingers, stomping it out in the dirt under his dirty boot. He gripped your arm firmly, and dragged you towards the house. 

You made the mistake of giggling as he pushed you through the back door, the cool air conditioning sending chills down your sweaty skin. 

Joel grunted at your amusement. “Laughin’ hard for a girl about to get her face fucked.”

You turned to face him as you walked backward, making a pouty face. “Are you mad at me? It was just a little cigarette, Mr. Miller–” The hand that wrapped around your throat, pinning you to the nearest wall with a thud, didn’t even register until blood rushed to your head. Desire sparked in your core, and you bit your lip to keep from grinning like an idiot.

“Maybe I should call my brother, let him use you for a bit until you’re beggin’ for me to come save you,” Joel growled, his breath hot in your face. “Let him have his fun before we start callin’ dibs on your holes.”

The vulgar thought sent chills down your spine, arousal blooming in your stomach as the fantasy took root. You nearly whined at his words, at the notion of being between two men such as the Miller brothers. At them sharing you. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Joel murmured, peering into your eyes for signs of fear. Instead, he found only want. “Lettin’ two men play with you for a while?”

His free hand dug underneath the waistband of your shorts, the swipe of his fingers at your wet core evidence of your wicked desire for him and his brother. 

Joel chuckled, and brought your arousal to his lips, cleaning off his fingers with a satisfied pop!

Letting go of your neck, Joel ducked to your waist, slinging you over his shoulder with one easy lift. 

Bent at the torso, and gripping Joel’s shirt to steady yourself, there wasn’t a lot you could do as he carried you through his home, and up his stairs. 

It was like you were filled with air, the ease at which he carried you. Through his white shirt, his back muscles clenched and tightened, but he hauled you upstairs with the determination of a man on a mission. 

Your core gushed at the rough handling. 

Joel crossed through his doorway with you over his shoulder in moments, throwing you onto the bed unceremoniously. He gripped the waistband of your shorts with both hands, pulling them down with a fierce yank. 

You moaned as the air conditioning hit your bare cunt, and Joel silenced you with a precise slap to your folds. 

Nearly snarling, Joel flipped you onto your stomach, and gripped your hips to bend you at will. At his handling, your ass and pussy were high in the air, and your upper body pressed into his pillows. You shivered at the exposure, feeling his eyes boring into your skin. 

“Tell me to stop if you need, baby,” he said, his voice low. Not seductive, but serious. “Tell me to stop, and I stop. No questions asked. But until then…”

You nodded into his pillow, still held to the bed by his hand. “I’ll tell you to stop, Joel.”

“Good girl,” he praised. 

The spank that came down onto your ass was punishing, and brutal. You yelped at the initial sting, and sighed as the pain dwindled into burning pleasure. 

“I wasn’t gonna punish you for the cigarette, baby.” Another slap stung your skin. “I’ve had a few in my day, why would I punish you for that?” Another slap. “I was gonna give you a few orgasms, take the box from your purse, be all sweet about it.” Another slap. “But you started mouthin’.” 

Joel landed a spank onto your exposed cunt, and you bit down into the cloth of his pillow to keep from crying out in delicious pain. 

“Good girls don’t mouth off, baby, you know that.” Another slap to your ass. “Askin’ after my brother like he could ever make you feel like this.” Another slap. “No, no, mouthy brats that forget their place don’t get sweet orgasms and easy forgiveness.”

Another spank to your cunt had tears dripping from your eyes, and delighted shrieks absorbed by his mattress. “Aw, you cryin’? That’s good.”

Joel shoved two fingers into your soaked, stinging pussy, pulling a long moan from your lips. It was too much, too tight… but that wasn’t for you to decide. 

“You know what happens to brats, baby?” Joel sneered, hooking his fingers against your g-spot. 

You whined at the rough treatment, what you’ve been craving all day. “Pun…ished. Brats–” he twisted his fingers against your spongy core, and you lose all sense of speech. 

Joel chuckled with wicked condescension. “All it takes, huh? God, you’re easy. What happens to brats again?”

You barely managed to breathe a reply. “Brats… get punished.”

Joel laid a spank to your bare ass in response, and you bit down into his pillow to stifle your cries. “Yes, they do. And you’ve been a fuckin’ brat.”

Joel pulls his fingers from you roughly, and anticipation floods you as you hear him fumble around with his belt, pulling it from his denim loops. 

The light hit of the leather to your ass was painless, but had you flinching at the impact. Joel’s words were quiet, knowing you hung onto every word without even asking. 

“This alright, baby? This punishment…”

“Please, Joel,” you breathed, trembling with want. “Please, I need it so bad, need you…”

Joel hummed in acknowledgement. “Gonna give you five. Count each one, or I start over.”

He didn’t wait to see if you heard him. 

The crack of leather across your ass was stinging, and painful, and had your core flooding with need. You whined into his pillow, tears streaming down your cheeks. “One.”

“Good girl.” The belt came down a second time, right on the fleshiest part of your ass. You cried out in pain, and want, and desperation for more. 

“T-two.” The word was moaned. Joel laid two more strikes in quick succession, making you cock your hips higher into the air as your skin became red and sensitive. The odd mix of pain and pleasure had your pussy dripping. 

As tears leaked from your eyes onto the sheets, a light spank of the belt to your exposed cunt had you nearly shrieking. Joel’s voice was heavy with dominance. “How many, baby?”

“Three and four!” Your voice was high-pitched.

“‘Atta girl, takin’ your punishment so well. One more, and I’ll give you my cock, okay?”

Swallowing, you presented your ass to him openly, taking a deep breath. “Okay.”

The last strike was the hardest, and you bit down into the pillow to stifle the near-scream that ripped from your throat at the impact. Still, your cunt was swollen with desire, and you wondered if there was anything you wouldn’t do to get Joel to put his cock–

His tip traced up and down your wet folds, pulling a guttural moan from your lips as the blunt head nudged your neglected clit. 

“Please, please, please–” you babbled, nearly sobbing. 

“I gotcha, baby,” Joel groaned, and flipped you onto your back with a firm hand on your thigh. 

Between your spread legs, Joel tore off his shirt and jeans, and you spied the precum staining his briefs before he took those off, too. His gaze on you was hungry, like he wanted to sink his teeth into your skin. 

Gently, Joel slipped his rough hands beneath your clammy t-shirt, pulling the fabric from you like your skin was fragile as porcelain. It was such a contrast to his rough handling just a few moments ago, where he punished you with the fuzzy line between pain and pleasure. Now, he was sure in his movements, but entirely softened in demeanor despite his aching length.

Your bra came off a moment later, and Joel’s eyes traced your hardened nipples with heat, but made no move to touch them. 

Instead, he held your legs up against your chest as he positioned his cock against your aching cunt, his dark eyes locking onto yours as he sank into your heat. 

A high pitched moan escaped you as you stretched around him, and he moved slowly, giving you time to adjust. He didn’t pull himself back, knowing you could take it. Knowing you needed to take it. 

“Joel,” you whimpered, and he leaned over you, his fingertips brushing hair from your eyes gently. 

“You can take it,” he assured you, sinking deeper as you arched into him. “You take it so well, everything I give you, because you’re so good for me.”

The praise had your cunt fluttering around his cock, and another inch of him found room inside of you. Joel’s groans of pleasure were like music to your ears, his breath warm against your face. 

A haziness filled you, your body feeling as if it were in a dream. Light, and floating, focused solely on the man that bottomed out with a deep moan of your name, accented by a warm Southern drawl. 

You could only whisper his name as he laid his palm against your throat, holding you still as he moved inside of you. 

“So good for me, always so fuckin’ good,” he breathed against your ear, his thumb pressing against the pulse of your neck. He pulled his hips back slowly, and thrusted forward with dominating strength. 

Your head craned back at the force, and Joel found a steady rhythm, deep and hard, like he valued the joining of your bodies more than a speedy orgasm. 

Joel held to your throat firmly, peering into your face as your eyes rolled back into your skull. A dark smirk crossed his lips, and he pinned your head to the side with a nudge under your jaw. 

With your head tilted, and his cock reaching spots inside of you he’d never found before, Joel licked a long stripe up from your collarbone to your ear, just to savor the taste of you on his tongue. 

Your cunt clenched around him, high-pitched sighs leaving your lips, and he chuckled against your skin. “Gonna come, baby? Gotta ask permission.”

“Please, Joel, please, let me come… I need it so badly, please,” you whimpered, keening into his cock stretching you open, into his hand squeezing your throat. 

Joel placed a soft kiss on your cheek, like a sweet lover. “Come.”

With a gush, your cunt clenched his cock desperately, moans escaping your lips freely as your orgasm flooded over you. Any sound seemed muffled, like you were held underwater, and your vision was blinded with pleasure. Distantly, you felt Joel speeding up his thrusts, nailing into your spent cunt selfishly. It stung against your bruised ass, only heightening the sensation of your core pulsing around him. 

Joel held firm to your throat as he came deep within you, warmth blossoming in your lower belly. His groans cut through the fog that the pleasure clouded you with, satisfaction curling in your chest. A satisfaction that you did what he wanted, and he gave you what you needed. 

For several moments, each of you caught your breath, his cock softening inside of you. As he shifted to pull out, you found yourself gasping, holding tight to him. 

Joel studied you as you whined, needy to be close to him. He caressed your face gently, seeing something in your eyes that seemed to unnerve him. 

“Baby, I think you’re in a subspace right now,” Joel reasoned, tracing his thumb across your cheekbone. “I promise, I’ll be right back. Gonna clean you up, get you something to eat. Ain’t nothin’ you gotta do, alright? You’ve been such a good girl.”

You swallowed, the fog in your head clearing a little bit at his praise. “Okay, just… come back, please.”

Joel smiled contentedly. “I will. Promise.”

You grunted with an edge of pain as he pulled out of you, before exhaustion crept in. The week had been a whirlwind, never allowing you to truly register how tired you were until the warmth of Joel’s bed eased you into a state of dozing. 

Vaguely, footsteps against hardwood registered in your haze of exhaustion and… what did Joel call it? Subspace. 

The sound of someone fumbling around in the kitchen made you smile softly, your eyes closed to the cozy bedroom. 

A quiet call of your name roused you from your dozing. 

Joel leaned over you, a sweet grin on his face. On the night stand beside you, a grilled cheese, apple slices, and a glass of water rested, and your stomach grumbled at the sight. 

“Gonna clean you up, now, okay?” Joel said, a damp washcloth in his hand. You nodded, eyes fixed on the sandwich. With a smile, he handed you the grilled cheese and wiped down your inner thighs, sticky with release. 

Mid bite, Joel cleaned up your sore cunt, making you wince slightly. He paused, letting you swallow the food before continuing. You let out a soft moan at the care, the attention, the fog clearing little by little. 

Joel kissed you on the lips as he finished wiping you down, and you swallowed the last bite of the sandwich. Each of your limbs was nearly limp, pliant to his touch. 

“You gotta go to the bathroom, baby,” Joel insisted, wrapping his arms underneath your waist and legs, lifting you like you weighed nothing. You giggled as he carried you, though you weren’t sure of why. The warmth of his chest was comforting, the closeness of his body against yours. 

He set you gingerly down onto the toilet seat, knowing your ass was tender from his punishment. You groaned lowly, and his brows furrowed. You held to his hand as you did your business, and he knelt beside you as he waited. 

“You don’t have to stay in here, Joel,” you whispered, though leaving was the last thing you wanted him to do. 

His coffee brown eyes were kind, and crinkled as he shook his head. “Right now, all I wanna do is be here with you, baby.”

“In the bathroom as I pee?” you asked, giggling quietly. 

“Absolutely, pretty girl. Who else is gonna bring you back to bed?” Joel replied, his thumb pinching your chin playfully. 

You looked down, heat rising to your cheeks. You weren’t sure why you suddenly felt shy, considering he knew you better than anyone, inside and out… literally. 

Something else occured to you. Your giggy grin, the fog over your sense, the need to be close to him... “Joel, that word you said… subspace?”

Joel’s face fell slightly, but he nodded. His eyes were wholly fixed on you, attentive to every twitch and glance. 

“What… what is it?” you asked, feeling a little foolish. 

Joel cleared his throat. “I’ll get you back to bed, and then I’ll tell you about it, okay?”

You nodded, finishing your business. Joel scooped you up with a kiss to your forehead, tucking you back into his blankets. His hands were careful, precise, like he was handling something precious. He even handfed you a few apple slices, and made you drink the whole glass of water with a little coaxing. The fog clouding your mind dissipated, though the fatigue remained. 

Sliding into bed next to you, Joel’s arms enveloped you immediately, holding you close under the covers, though nothing about it felt sexual. He simply wanted… to have you near. 

He took a deep breath. “Subspace is somethin’ I read about when we first started this…” he fumbled for the word. “Dynamic, I suppose. You trustin’ me to take care of you, trustin’ me with your body, trustin’ me with the control that you guard so closely. Subspace is a state of mind, I guess, that people like you get when your brain releases higher levels of adrenaline and happy chemicals.”

You hummed against his chest, nuzzling closer. “Like a high.”

“Exactly. You get that sorta floaty feelin’, like reality is slightly altered. Supposed to be in response to the balance between pain and pleasure, the sensations sending you into the space.” Joel clenched his jaw, shrugging. “I dunno if that makes sense, or if that even was what–” You pressed a hand against his heart, and he cut himself off, peering at you. “That sounds right. It felt amazing, exactly what I needed… how did you know?”

Joel smiled a little. “I guess… you just make sense to me. It’s how I knew you needed somethin’ different tonight, why you were actin’ up. I looked at you, and I knew. Can’t really explain it.”

Sleep nagged at you, the steady beat of his heart in your ear lulling. “You make sense to me, too, Joel. Why did it worry you at first?”

Joel considered it a moment. “With a high, there’s a drop, too. A low, I guess, because your brain is still gettin’ back to the baseline once the happy chemicals settle. I needed to make sure you felt safe, and satisfied with what we… with what I did.”

You smiled hazily, eyes shutting with exhaustion. “I do, Joel. You make me feel…”

Your voice dropped off to sleep, and Joel could only wonder what you would’ve said.

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. height difference + jjk men — seeing you struggling to initiate a kiss, ft. gojo, nanami, toji, choso

note. super self indulgent once again woopsies

tags. jjk men x female reader (separately). fluff, suggestive themes. size difference obviously: reader is shorter than the characters. little hint of an age gap in toji’s part (you; early 20’s, he early 30’s). reader gets referred to as ‘small, short, adorable’. nicknames used ‘baby, sweetheart, princess, little girl, angel’. includes drabbles for each character.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

“what’s the matter, baby?” satoru easily notices whenever you’re internally debating something. you’d fidget with your clothes, look around and nibble on your bottom lip.

even if you say that it’s nothing, your lover knows that you mean the exact opposite. he walks hand-in-hand with you out of the boutique where he had bought you a pretty dress. his thumb rubs your skin gently, hoping to comfort you with whatever you’re struggling to say.

“it’s uhm,” you finally speak up. satoru halts his steps and tilts his head with a curious pout on his lips. he doesn’t wish to pressure you into anything, so he keeps quiet.

his blue eyes follow your movements from behind his sunglasses. you step closer to him, your small hands travelling up to gently hold onto his jacket. you gulp before balancing your entire body on your toes—creasing your shoes a bit by doing so.

at this point, satoru knows what you’re trying to do. your actions are absolutely adorable and make the sorcerer giggle. he wants nothing more than to squish your cheeks together for being so cute. especially because you’re failing to reach his lips.

“oh, do y’need help maybe?” satoru asks with a smug grin. you frown and try to stand on the tips of your toes, though that didn’t seem enough. your lover needs to lower his head a tad more for you to kiss him.

satoru tilts his head backwards instead. he loves to see you pout and struggle to carry out such an affectionate act. he can’t help it—you’re so fun to tease, “c’mon, you can do it, baby!”

when you give up due to his constant teasing, the white-haired man gasps dramatically. you smack his bicep and turn around with a huff, “forget it.”

before you can take another step away from him—satoru’s hand reaches out to hold your wrist. he pulls you back against his chest, warm palm holding your cheek and tilting your head up so his glossy lips could meet yours.

“sorry,” satoru mutters against your mouth. his tongue sneakily swipes against yours which causes you to squirm. he gives your bottom lip a playful nibble in response, “couldn’t resist teasing you a little.”

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

“welcome home, dear!” you greet kento at the front door as per usual. he sighs in relief and smiles tiredly, appreciating your appearance before him. he seems utterly exhausted from his most recent mission.

“it’s good to see you, sweetheart,” kento shuts the door behind him. he takes off his shoes and places them where they belong before doing the same with his coat. he looks down at you as you help him tidy his belongings, “you’re looking beautiful tonight.”

to say you’re flustered is an understatement. kento always knows just how to get you shy and embarrassed from the casual way he compliments you. you’re in your pyjamas and apron—barefaced with nothing extra going on and yet your lover is completely engrossed by your looks.

“thank you,” you murmur back with a bright smile. kento smiles as well after seeing your happy expression. that’s what he does it for.

you hold kento’s hand and feel its warmth engulf your skin. his palms are a little rough; probably from the hard work he put into those recent missions he did. you look up at the blonde man in front of you and want nothing more than to kiss him—show your gratitude for everything he does for you.

thus, you lean in and stand on your toes, balancing on one foot whilst the other floats a few centimetres above the wooden floor. it’s hard to find a balance, though your attentive partner is quick to lend a hand.

“careful,” kento whispers, his voice so husky that you feel a shiver run down your spine. his big hands settle on your waist and he doesn’t waste a single second after that.

he leans in as well, head lowered to yours and your noses lightly brushing against each other. kento’s lips find your soft ones—interlocking them in a passion filled kiss. you can feel his entire body relax even more. as if he’s waited all day to be back home. to be back to you.

to kiss and hold you close.

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

“over here, princess,” toji calls you over with a subtle wave. he’s leaning against a brick wall, hands in the pockets of his black jacket. you walk over to him with an excited smile—happy to spend some quality time together with him today.

“hey, i missed you,” you comment and wrap your arms around his waist. you nuzzle your face against his chest to which toji reacts by giving you an awkward head pat.

the older man lifts your head up and away from his body by holding onto your chin. his eyes run over your face, letting out a short content hum. he’s missed you a lot too. not that he’d tell you that directly.

“how’s uni for ya?” toji asks. the pad of his thumb rubs your cheek and you lean into his touch. it brings a little smirk to his face—seeing how easily you become putty in his hands is rather amusing.

“been okay for most part,” you shrug and fail to maintain eye contact with your boyfriend. he probably doesn’t do it on purpose, but his half-lidded eyes makes your lower abdomen feel funny.

you’re still so nervous around him, though you’ve got the guts to at least kiss him first. you missed the feeling of his lips against you after all. the constant, soothing rubs of his thumb against your cheek only intensifies your desire.

you lift yourself up on the tips of your shoes. your cold hands cup toji’s face and he immediately gets what you’re trying to do. he snickers at the sight of you struggling to reach him and acts like he doesn’t know what you want.

. . until you whine about how you really want to kiss him. that man is sold the moment he hears your whiny voice.

“fuck. c’mere, little girl,” toji’s veiny hands go around your waist and move down to cup your ass, his lips crashing down onto yours with a desperation he’s never kissed you with before.

𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎

“do i need to add salt? she’s talking too fast,” choso ask whilst scratching his head. he’s watching a youtube video on his phone; specifically a cooking one. he’s attempting to copy a recipe in his kitchen and you’re helping him since he doesn’t know too much about phones. and cooking apparently.

you giggle and grab the phone from the counter. the lady’s words are incomprehensible due to the video being on two times the usual speed. you return the settings to normal with a light hearted chuckle, “yeah, because you’ve sped up the video, silly.”

“oh,” choso smiles sheepishly. he checks the stove and makes sure the food isn’t burning before turning towards you, “thank you. you’re a lifesaver, heh.”

you can’t help but admire the view of choso in front of you. he’s in an apron which is too small on him since it’s yours—his chiseled chest accentuated by the fabric. his black hair is up in a small ponytail and his cheeks are red. probably from embarrassment.

“you’re adorable,” you comment lovingly. choso’s cheeks turn even redder by your compliment and he sputters some words about how he ‘needs to focus on his cooking’.

you interrupt his stammers by getting closer. your lover stops and his lips are parted—giving you the perfect chance to capture them into a kiss. well, you try to at least

choso notices your silent struggles and blinks. it takes him a second to fully grasp the situation before he decides on helping you. he smiles warmly, his beefy arms effortlessly lifting you up to his height, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist.

one hand is on your thigh, the other holding the back of your head to deepen your shared kiss. choso pulls away and attaches his lips to your neck, settling you the counter, “want more, angel. you drive me crazy.”