#/ I can't help it spilling into my characterization

[dernarrleid]

CHARACTER SHEET INFO

Name: Anna Liebert (first real name she associates with herself), Nina Fortner (the name she truly resonates with from her adopted parents)

THREE HEADCANONS YOU’VE NEVER TOLD ANYONE

Nina's something of a sleeper. She doesn't have command phrases or words, but her brother is able to give off a presence that draws her up by a string. In the manga, it's speculated maybe once or twice that Nina's actually the monster and doesn't realize it. That within her in something Johan's actually trying to protect her from, which is like, never mentioned in detail but man. It's definitely present in my characterization (as loose as it may be. idk, she needed more screentime).

Johan's decided he needs to be more involved in her sister's development, unfortunately(?) Nina's had boyfriends. Both of them not exceptional, more like good friends. It's not until Johan gentle nudges her in the direction of an upperclassmen, sometime around her last bachelor semester, that she realizes women are more appealing. Even later she realizes that sex seems more like an activity to enjoy distantly than something she necessarily craves.

Aside from the obvious issues with her mother, Nina finds comfort in dangerous men. She likes that they share that element in common, and doesn't shy away from the knowledge they bestow from time to time. It's funny, because occasionally, they'll look at her and wonder why the hell she's so interested in them and just oh. Like, wow, this girl found me out, hasn't told the police, hasn't change her demeanor once. Who the hell is she? And as soon as they have that private revelation, like clockwork, she's on their tail asking them question after question, lesson after lesson, gathering all sorts of information and techniques to eventually use for herself. And the strange part about most of them is that they'll give her what she wants without much effort. There's always a "you're so young and pretty, why do you need to do this?" Nina gets that look in her eyes and once again, they just know.

THREE THINGS YOUR CHARACTER LIKES DOING IN THEIR FREE TIME:

Read. Classics, the newspaper, web articles. You name it, she's read it.

Making clothes. She studying for a law degree, but she's also super into fashion. It's sort of comforting to her, as most of her brother's antics involve disguises, so when given permission (or orders disguised as requests) to be the distraction, Nina's brought it upon herself to pad them with the most ambitious styles she has knowledge of.

Training. She can fire a gun with 75% accuracy, so they're not her weapon of choice. If she must defend herself, she'd rather use martial arts and integrate a few small knives if the verse demands her to be more physically inclined. (Despite the grit required to make this something to like, she does enjoy it as a way to release pent up resentment. It's almost spiritual. Some techniques she'll get the hang of and be able to turn her brain off, going through the motions.)

SIX PEOPLE YOUR CHARACTER LIKES/LOVES:

She interacts with like, 4 people because her Mun is dysfunctional.

TWO THINGS YOUR CHARACTER REGRETS:

Not fighting for her brother when they were children. It was almost always Johan protecting her, but she couldn't recall ever doing the same for him.

Shooting him too.

TWO PHOBIAS YOUR CHARACTER HAS:

No phobias!

TAGGED BY: @unladielike TAGGING: @mugunghwc ( kim ), @badheart ( futaba/fang ), @furiaei, @zorkaya

[ptn-imagines]

I bloody hope you aren't overwhelmed with numerous requests yet (please take care of yourself and rest well!) but may I please request a one shot telling how Adela wants to help her beloved (female sinner as well) get rid of her unpleasant remembrances via a haircut but the sinner refuses to cut her hair as it now holds the most precious and charming memories as well – the ones about Adela? Thank you very much in advance.

Here you go, anon! This is my very first imagine for this blog, so I hope it was worth the wait! I feel like I fell off towards the end, but eh... You know what they say about being your own worst critic.

THE PRICE OF FORSAKEN MEMORIES [ sinner reader x adela ]

rating. teen and up audiences cws. depictions of ptsd and disassociation, implicit hallucinations (visual and audible) word count. 1,683 words.

Mania, among those afflicted, was primarily characterized by the suffering it wrought. Blood, sweat and tears; these were the things that the illness seemed to feed on, the things it was most skilled at drawing out. Mania would bleed a person's heart dry, and then, and only then, would it allow the withered husk left behind to depart from the world. It was a brutal and sadistic inevitability, and even Sinners knew they simply had more time than the rest. Still, amid all the misery and pain, there were good days; days where the Mania was quiet, and the afflicted could play at being “normal.” Healthy. Uninfected. Something other than the refuse of society.

Today, for you, was not one of those days.

You'd buried yourself underneath every duvet you owned to stave off the frigid chill that seeped into your bones. Now, your skin sweltered, drops of sweat pouring down your forehead; and yet, your teeth continued to chatter as shivers wracked your body, fragile in a way known only to the Mania-ridden.

You could feel your blood sprinting through your veins like it had places to be, your treacherous heart spurred into an overtime frenzy. Reason and past experience told you you weren't going to die here – but oh, it certainly felt as though the last grain of sand in the hourglass had fallen for you.

At least I'm not coughing blood this time. A macabre musing that claws its way to the surface of the muck. It carves a smile onto your lips, half-delirious with pain as you are.

You keep your eyes shut. Nothing can muffle the whispers, then the shouts and the screams – but you can blind yourself to the hazy shadows that lurk in the corners, turn your back to the memories that vie for you to bring them to life. No. Not today.

Your body shudders. A cough spills from your throat. If you spoke, would you know your own voice? Nightmares thread with reality as you lay there, a prisoner with no chains, shackled to that day, both your origin and your ending.

A bell rings through the apartment, sharp enough to cut through the empty haze. A bell, a bell, what did it mean again? Your mind struggles under the weight of your half-buried past as Mania tries to claw you back into its wretched grasp. A bell…

Adela. The thought is a lantern shining through the oppressive gloom. Your eyes snap open, the specters fleeing from the light she has brought to the tiny apartment. Your heart still beats to an uneven tempo, but it's no longer the sickness making you dizzy.

“Dearest, are you in here?” Her voice, sweet and silvery like birdsong, is muffled, but you can hear her footsteps approach. You're still too weak to get up, so you wait, a little smile on your lips. It's been a long day. You can't wait to see her.

The door creaks open – you were supposed to call someone about that, weren't you? – and Adela's beautiful face peers into the bedroom. You offer her a little wave, and she breaks out into a radiant smile.

At least, until she notices your ashen-faced features; her smile melts into a worried frown, and she's at your side in a moment. She feels your forehead for a temperature, fretting like a mother hen. She always does this. It never gets any less adorable.

“Are you alright, dear?” she worries, scanning you for obvious signs of malady. “You have a fever… Are you sick?”

You giggle a bit despite how it scrapes at your raw throat, leaning into her tender touch. You are sick, but not in the way she means. “Just a bad day,” you whisper, reaching to intertwine your fingers, and you see the moment realization dawns on her. Of course, she knows; she's a Sinner too, after all. She cannot remember what trauma triggered her change like you can, but Mania finds its ways to torment her even so.

“Oh, my beloved…” Adela's free hand goes to your cheek, gently caressing your face. “I'm sorry. I should have been here.” She's always like this; always blaming herself for things she couldn't possibly control. You don't think you'll ever change this about her, not for lack of trying.

Still, you don't want to let her dwell on it, so you shake your head, rasping a reply: “You're here now, ‘dela. That's… what matters most to me.” You give her the best smile you can, comforting her in the only way you currently know how.

Adela blinks a few times, as though she's surprised you're not blaming her. She probably is; the silly woman takes so much of others’ burdens onto her own shoulders that she's forgotten what it's like not to be responsible for somebody else's woes. “...Thank you, dearest,” she finally manages to say, giving your hand a little squeeze. “Still, forgive my saying this, but you look truly awful. How can I help?”

Your eyes flutter close as you let out a considering hum. “Tea. Then cuddles.”

A few minutes later, you're sipping at a cup of Adela's special tea blend while sitting in your girlfriend's lap. Her hands stroke through your hair, so gentle and kind, and her warmth combined with the sweet and delicate aroma of the drink banishes the darkness that yet lingers. A contented silence settles over the pair of you, basking in the safety and adoration of one another.

…No, not quite contented. Something's on Adela's mind; you can tell by the way her hands occasionally pause before resuming their stroking. You think about asking her about it, but she beats you to it; a gentle sigh passes her lips, and she speaks.

“It was a very bad day for you, wasn't it?” she asks quietly. You glance at the mirror on the wall and see that Adela is fixated on a particular spot on your back. You can imagine what she's seeing, even if it's only in her mind; tresses of twisted, mangy hair spilling over your shoulders, the embodiment of your stress and your anxiety. You wonder how long it is after today.

You can't deny it, so you give an affirmative hum. Adela leans forward to slowly rest against your back, eyes meeting yours in the mirror as she rubs gentle circles into your shoulders. It's a blissful sensation, and only the prospect of the upcoming conversation keeps you present in the moment.

“I don't know why you don't let me cut it away, my love,” she whispers, her breath tickling your ear. You don't remember quite exactly how you found out about Mad Shears; you suspect Adela tampered with those memories. Nevertheless, you'd remembered enough to find your way back to the hairdresser, even after she fled to another neighborhood. She'd been shocked, but… that was years ago now, and you didn't like to think of it much. It had led to a beautiful love blossoming between the two of you, and that's all you cared to dwell on. 

“You're in so much pain,” Adela continues, and you remain silent, trying to gather together the words to say. Adela takes that as a cue to keep talking. “I could fix it all for you. Dearest, why won't you let me help you?”

You sit up properly, and do your best to ignore the twinge of your heart at Adela's little disappointed sigh. “My pain… It's not just tied to the day I became a Sinner, is it?” you answer, your eyes never leaving those of your most beloved in the mirror. “It's entrenched in my Mania. You'd have to wipe my memory completely to erase it, and even then, there's a chance traces of it could linger, right?”

Adela was silent for a moment, hesitant in the face of the flaws in her ability. Her eyes lowered, gaze once again falling your hallucinatory locks of hair; by the way her fingers twisted around nothing, she was fruitlessly attempting to comb out the mess of worries. “But you'd still feel much better than you do now,” she murmured. “Isn't it worth a try?”

“It's a short-term solution to a long-term problem, Adela.” You finally turned around to face your girlfriend properly; her shocked gaze lifted up to your face, and you reached out to stroke her cheeks, smiling. “Besides, even if I was happier for a little bit… I'd eventually just end up even more miserable. Do you know why?”

Adela is silent for a long while, her gaze on you feeling like flames licking your skin. Eventually, ever so slowly, she shakes her head, looking lost. “I don't know. Please tell me.”

“Because… I'd be losing you, the person I love more than anyone or anything.” Adela's eyes widen with shock; even though you feel this should be plain to see, it's clear that such an answer hadn't ever crossed her mind. “Adela, my love, you're the reason I ultimately get up each morning; you're why I haven't curled up and died yet. Without you… I'd be swallowed by my Mania sooner or later, memories or no.”

The other Sinner stared at you as though she was seeing you in a whole new light. Wonder was the one word to describe her expression. Eventually, she shook herself out of it, features curling into the heartfelt smile you adored so much. “I can't say I understand, but… I do trust you. When you say these things… I can't help but feel they must be true.”

“That's good enough for me.” You hold out your arms, and Adela melts into them. She's deceptively strong, but right now, with her body curled against yours, she reminds you of a weak and fragile baby animal. You hold her closer. “You don't have to understand, love. As long as you don't go all Mad Shears on me in my sleep.”

It's a joke, and Adela must know it, judging by the light giggle she lets out. Still, her reply, almost inaudible, is in earnest.

“I promise, my dearest.”

[5eraphim]

swinging out the gate with pure filth but i recently stumbled upon a scout voice line that made me cream my pants (tumblr doesn't allow links as anon so i'm putting extra parentheses to make sure it doesn't appear as one (https://wiki.teamfortress.com/w/images/4/48/Scout_domination20.wav))

anyways it got me heavy thinking about dom scout because i really truly think this boy is a sadistic motherfucker. huge ego and need to be the best, especially growing up the youngest sibling? having someone stupidly fucked out for him blows his mind.

and i KNOW for a FACT he has a daddy kink, too, and wants a real title to hear the power he has in the moment (plus there's another scout voice line that says "come to daddy" so it's essentially confirmed because i said so).

he's still a little bit of a teenage horndog about it, rolling his eyes back and getting a little nervous when you actually do submit, because he was prepared for a fight.

i would almost say he prefers it, wanting the struggle and the power that comes with quelling the flame in you but never fully, trying to push buttons to get you to give him a shove or a nasty remark so he has an excuse to pounce on you like a predator.

"yeah? you like that? gettin' fucked on daddy's dick?" almost really talking to himself when he drills into you as fast as he physically can, positioned in missionary because he wants to see that pretty face (and tits).

he wants to see overstimulation paint your features, you know that. he also wants to see that feisty side of you just so he can tame it. you push his abdomen the best you can, hands really just shoving his shirt that he didn't bother to take off. it's not working, and all he can do is laugh at your pathetic attempt.

you yank the dog tags that dangle in front of your face, sort of wet because of the sweat he's pouring, not due of the physicality but rather that he's so worked up and thrilled that he's heating up. the chain wrings around the back of his neck a little, not necessarily doing the damage you hoped for. in fact, you can see a switch flip and his eyes darken. uh oh.

his hands slam around your neck, having previously been attached to your waist, and squeeze so hard your vision goes fuzzy at the edges and all the blood rushes from your head. "you wanna choke me? how's it feel ta be fuckin' choked, huh? stupid bitch." he's degrading, harsh because he knows he can be. your eyes well u with tears, threatening to spill, and he grins like a wolf. he loves it.

"oh, what, you gonna cry? you gonna cry now?" he spits at you. that's all it takes before the waterworks start, cooling your warm cheeks and letting him know he's won this round.

there's nothing that stops you from cumming on his cock, completely overwhelmed by feeling and so far gone that it doesn't even matter. scout's overjoyed that he's got a pretty girl so fucking stupid for him that she can't even control her body anymore. he gets so high off the feeling that he can't help but bark out every filthy thought and word he has, a reminder that he is conscious enough to talk and you're so braindead you can't form a word.

"aww" he wipes your tears with the pad of his thumb, "don' cry kid, i'm not even bein' that cruel!" he taps his thumb against your lips, scowling when you turn your head to avoid his digit. he grabs your chin to force your eyes on his. "open up and suck my fuckin' thumb or ill replace it with my cock and fuck your face."

im making my mark as 👽 emoji because i will 100% be back to write more

HELL O?? HELLO 👽!!! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH RIGHT NOW!!! MAKING OUT WITH THE SIDE OF YOUR NECK RIGHT NOW AS WE SPEAK

thank you so much for sending me this, a bit blown awayy right now, i must say. top-tier scout characterization, on GOD. He is MEAN. he is literally a one man bully squad- of course he's gonna overdo it act like a total maniac getting nasty with his obsession.

i love this because i love writing Scout as on the more dominant side, but in a almost playfully sadistic kind of way.

[umiewrites]

Comfort (NSFW, 18+)

02.08.2024

FLUFF/SMUT ❀˖° NSFW ❀˖° Romantic/Sexual ❀˖° Reader is a college student, some characterization for reader. Some HCs for Rei involved (read tags)

Rei Sakuma × GN! Reader (Fluff, to SMUT. no pronouns, gendered terms, clothing, genitals mentioned for reader. Established relationship. (AMAB) Rei with gender neutral terms and they/them/he pronouns. Rei calls you pretty, dear, my sweet thing. Rei gives you a massage.

CW/TW: Reader receiving: Penetrative sex, comfort sex, oral, fingering, praise, soft sex, body worship, protected sex.

Syn: Its been such a hard week for you, hasn't it? Rei noticed the way you'd walk with heavy shoulders, and the way you're even slightly less cheerful. Oh dear, your eyes look tired as well... Now, why don't you tell your sweetest partner about it, and they'll listen to you all night... Actually, why stop there? Rei can help you forget and loosen you up... Won't you let them?

"Why don't you tell me about your week, hm?" Rei put your bag away for you, while you just felt like collapsing on the bed entirely.

They follow after you, laying down with you as they reach a hand out to massage your back. Just some soft kneading on your shoulder blades, some squeezes on your shoulder... But they hope it's enough to relax you. That's what matters.

"That feel good, dear?" They eventually push you till you're laying on your stomach, continuing to caress and massage your worn out muscles. You hum a satisfied yes to them, and they chuckle softly, happy to help you relax. "So dear... What's troubling you?"

You hesitate to even spill it. Knowing how they will go out of their way to help and listen to you, even if it exhausts them. You try to brush it off, telling them it's fine and resolved, but they're not convinced. Or rather, they know you're keeping it from them...

"My sweet thing. Am I not your partner?" Rei asked while gently carding their fingers through your hair. "Am I not meant to hear and help your burden...? Whether that be by helping directly, listening, or offering my advice... Or even if I can't help at all, won't you tell me? I promise, you will not tire me out. I'll always have energy for you, even if I'm exhausted of the world."

Such sweet words falling from their mouth... As usual. As your partner, they never fail to flatter and amaze you with their sincere declarations, as if straight out of a classical romance literature... And can you deny them? Such sincerity, longing for your mutual trust and vulnerability, all they ever want is to be there for you as much as you have for them, and they mean that.

You sigh, your partner's words too persuasive and sweet, and you tell them all about your week. From mishaps and miscellaneous troubles at college, occasional relationship tiffs with your friends, even the petty drama... And they listen intently, wrists never resting as they continue to press against even the sore spots you didn't know you had.

"That's far too many troubles for a single person in one week. You've had it rough through and through..." Rei massaged the area connecting your neck and shoulder. "But you braved through it. You can rest now, and I want to help with that..."

Rei leaned in, softly whispering into your ear, asking permission. "Won't you let me?"

Hearing that always made you shiver. Their voice was far too nice... So smooth, powerful, velvety... You gave them your permission, and they mumbled a little thank you before you felt kisses at the back of your neck.

Soft, thin lips made contact with the skin of your nape. Rei rubbed your shoulders, letting you hug a pillow to allow your comfort. Anything for you.

"My darling has been through a lot this week... Since it's Friday, let's relax, alright? You've done plenty to make it through, so let me pamper you." Rei's hands shifted to holding your hips, making sure you get the hint of what they're suggesting. You gave them your approval.

Knowing Rei, who's often so teasing and smug in bed act this way... It was out of routine, but definitely not weird or unwelcome. In fact... They're good. You're starting to feel a lot of your tension melt... And that's just their touches and kisses.

You could hear small whispers of praise leave Rei's mouth, everything from your skin, your voice, and how you love Rei, nothing goes unnoticed as he worshipped every little thing. They don't leave your moles, marks, or your scars unappreciated, kissing and lightly touching every little one.

Even every little contour, dip, and curve of your skin. Even if they fold as you squirm, he leaves no part untouched. Rei's lips reach your navel and they look at you one more time for your permission to undo your bottoms.

"Let me help you forget. However it may be, I want to help, love."

They're too sweet... Far too loving for you. But who are you to deny them? You allow Rei's hands to take off your clothes as they lower themselves to kiss your inner thigh and unclothed sex. They pull down your underwear entirely, lips softly sucking on your sensitivity. Their fingers trail down to tease your hole, the other holding your thigh in place.

Kissing around everywhere but your sex, he hushed you to be a little more patient for him. Using your precum to lubricate his fingers, he starts prying into your hole, slowly but gently.

Hearing your gasp, a smug chuckle leaves their throat, and Rei's lips start to kiss and softly suck on your leaking sex. Fingers slowly start stretching you open, as soft nibbles and licks press against you. The attention and care they gave had your thighs shaking, although Rei held it in place.

"Sweetheart, you're being so good for me." Lips part briefly just to tell you that, velvety voice praising you while Rei's breath blew against your sensitive skin.

Their fingers pick up, and Rei started to eat out your sex using their tongue like you were dessert— And to his defense, you do taste good. Using their spit to go deeper, Rei added another finger and pressed in to his knuckles. Those joints press your sweet spot like they already knew where they were, keeping the relentless assault while stretching you out.

Rei's tongue lapped at you more feverishly, sex buried in his mouth while the sting of his fingers start turning into pleasure. He's got no intentions of making you wait, but he prolongs the preparation a little with a third finger. Just to see how much he can make you come undone on his fingers alone.

You warn Rei you might finish soon. You're afraid he's a little too good at this...

"Hm? Then come, my love. Nothing's forbidding you from doing so. Besides... You can do another one for me later, no?"

Your thighs shook more, but Rei pays no mind. One more suck on your sex was enough to make you finish, eyes hazy as a shrill moan escaped your mouth. Surprisingly Rei doesn't lick up your release, as their mouth and fingers part from between your thighs.

[kazuyummy]

🌴 POSITIONS - MIYUKI KAZUYA X READER

in which your husband kazuya takes you on a vacation to a five-star tropical resort and fucks you any chance he gets.

tw: alcohol, penetrative sex about: afab!reader, mentions of genitalia. no plot and tbh barely any characterization, just pure smut and tropical vacay vibes!! 🏝

note: anything in blue is a link to an image (the ones in the titles are nsfw so open at your own risk) but not necessary for reading - just something to help imagine the positions you and kazuya are in and show where my inspirations came from.

cover pic: sato_1_11 on danbooru

‎

in the morning

waking up next to miyuki kazuya with an ocean breeze rustling through your windows, the smell of saltwater filling your nose, and rays of sunlight peeking through the curtains are enough to make you think you've died and found paradise. it's as if time has slowed here - no reason not to blink your eyes slowly; take deep breaths; stretch your limbs out past silk covers as if they were moving through water. your lover rouses beside you, instinctively turning over to snuggle closer.

"mmm, you smell like pineapple."

you giggle, "i don't normally use hotel shampoo, but this resort? they're spoiling me even more than you do, kazuya."

"well, well. we can't have that, can we?"

you shriek in laughter as he begins nibbling at your neck and earlobe, covering you in kisses. he hooks a leg over your already nude form to prevent you from avoiding his affections as you roll to your side, arms stretched above your head.

you purr as he reaches around, brushing your clit and snaking down to find you already wet. his other arm finds one of your outstretched ones, locking fingers and giving you a squeeze.

"fuckin' beautiful. i get to wake up to this every morning 'til i die."

he continues his onslaught onto your neck, and you're getting impatient, beginning to rut your hips. it's not that neither of you are into foreplay - usually quite the opposite, actually - but you both just love an early morning sidefuck, to be blunt. the way his body moulds into yours, how your legs tangle, and the way your orgasm feels when half-asleep, waking you up and making you want to fall into slumber in his arms all the same.

"kazuya, i'm close." he shifts his leg so that he's driving into you further, hand supporting the back of your thigh as he fills you with his load, biting and kissing whatever he can as you both recede from your highs, like waves after they crash on the shore.

between peppered kisses and sweet 'i love you's, you take your time getting ready for the rest of the day ahead. ☁︎

‎

in the afternoon

coming back from brunch and drinks at the swim-up bar leaves you wanting a catnap - but not without leaving you and your dearest satisfied, of course. with your swimsuit still on, you decide to take a short dip in your private pool as kazuya eyes you from his towel laid out onto the deck.

you've just emerged from under the water, flipping your hair back mermaid-style, which splashes him a bit in the process. he gives you a playful frown - you know he can't do much since you have the upper hand being in the water. so he resorts to his words and coos,

"gonna get me worked up every time i see you in that bikini, sweetheart."

"oh? and what about without it?"

your line's cliché but it's certainly got his full attention - you begin to strip off in the pool, water dripping down your body as you lift yourself out and begin making your way to where he's lying down.

his eyes sparkle amber in the tropical sun, chestnut hair already dried and framing his boyish, mischievous smile. you love the predatory look he wears, eyeing you shamelessly.

you pick up his glass of champagne - an expensive, fruity blend that came in an ice bucket upon your arrival - sipping it up and leaning down to spill it from your mouth into his. it's messy as he sticks his tongue out, eyes half-lidded with droplets running down his cheeks onto the towel. cold water drips from the ends of your hair onto his body, each touch like a small zap to his skin.

in an instant, he's made his way up, tugging his swim trunks down to reveal his thick, waiting cock under a bit of bronze tanline.

his strong arms hoist you up, not even making it back to the room (which might be a blessing for housekeeping and the state of your bed given how soaked you are from the pool) and sitting you on a nearby plush lounge sofa.

he's quick to dive into your folds, nose brushing your clit as he tastes you. his shoulder pushes one thigh apart and his right hand the other - his left hand is busy spreading you open for him. he's always so patient but commanding when eating you out, forearms flexed and eyes looking up into yours whenever he edges you until finally he lets you come, toes curling and his tongue unrelenting.

he doesn't give you a break after you finish, lifting you once more to seat himself under you. you're straddling his outstretched legs, making out with sun-kissed lips and sending shivers down his spine from the cool water still on your skin. you manoeuvre to take in his cock, both of you remaining sat up, foreheads touching and breath mingling.

kazuya takes the half-full glass of champagne from beside you, pouring it slowly down your neck and lapping it up where it collects on your breasts. he takes a nipple into his mouth, suckling and pulling gently with his teeth.

he has your hips rolling, desperate to milk him. he feels you tighten, his grip around your waist getting stronger as he nears release,

"fuck - fuck, babe. gonna fill your little pussy up, take all of it - fuck!"

his head falls to your shoulder with a groan, pulling back after with a light chuckle when he realizes how sticky you both are - from the sweat, the champagne, and your own emissions.

"guess another dip in the pool is needed - i'm gonna splash you this time, though." ☀︎

‎

in the middle of the night

walking under a starry sky on the beach in a cute little sundress means that kazuya can barely keep his hands off of you, wanting to spank you every time the dress shows the outline of your ass and resisting the urge to mark your bare collarbone that glows under the moonlight.

you giggle, playfully pushing him away and stumbling a bit as you do so. a couple more fancy cocktails after your small nap earlier have you a bit tipsy again.

"we're in public, babe!"

"and? do you see anyone around? besides, i'm sure you'd love people seeing me bend you over and take you right here."

you try to act nonchalant, but heat makes its way to your cheekbones. you sigh exasperatedly,

"you haven't had enough today, kazuya?"

he takes a handful of your ass and squeezes,

"i dunno, have you?"

he knows he's called your bluff when you let out a small moan that goes right to his crotch.

"didn't think so."

you reach your private resort again, the door threatening to fly off its hinges with the force you use to push it open and drag kazuya in behind you. his lips attack yours as he pushes your back up against the wall, one hand going down to circle your clit and the other gripping both wrists and above your head.

"d'you know what you do to me, sweetheart? what this cute little dress on you does?"

he releases your wrists and pulls one down to the front of his pants to feel his bulge pushing against the cloth. you whimper, which only makes him rub at you more frantically.

"please, kazuya... i can't get enough of your cock. i need it."

he's breathing heavily now, dipping two fingers inside you and scissoring them until he pulls them out, making you suck on them.

"careful what you wish for. 'm feeling impatient, y'know?"

his words ring true, because while he'd normally tease you, he takes you to the bed, stripping you both, lying down, and hoisting you up onto those muscular thighs so that your back is on his chest. he reaches around to align himself before plunging into you and hooking his arms around your thighs into a full nelson.

if today's sex so far was passionate and sensual, he's downright animalistic now, pistoning his hips into you, and you're unable to do anything else but take it. you can't quite see him going in and out of you, but you can see the way his balls slap your skin as he stretches you out, and how your tits bounce almost to the point of soreness with how hard he's going.

you can barely manage a sound but a choked gurgle, the pace he's setting sending you into overdrive as your eyes roll back into your head. you feel heat swell up inside you, like a bubble ready to burst - and that it does, your orgasm explosive, soaking sheets as you squirt around him with a garbled moan.

he follows suit shortly, his final thrusts forceful before you feel him fill you up, your walls squeezing him dry. post-orgasm kazuya is always a sight to behold, hair wild and eyes glazed over, nowhere near the composed state he normally carries himself in.

when he lies you down on the bed beside him, he watches as his seed leaks out of you slowly, white dripping with every flutter of your pussy. though exhausted, you bring a finger down to swipe some, bringing it to your tongue and sucking. with wide eyes, he breathes,

"god babe. i love you so much."

you clean each other up, taking one last look at the stars outside before fall asleep with a smile, knowing you get to do this all again tomorrow. ☽

ok some of the positions on the site are downright ridiculous and it was so funny to choose some. i know a part of most fiction in general is imagining the story without pictures... but i really wanted to try this concept of having visual aids. if the links don't work, let me know!

wish i took a bit more time to fully develop these scenes and up the tension but... i wanted this to be a shorter fic and kazuya and reader are horny little demons 😈

lmk which daiya boy i should write for next - i want to continue using the links to positions but would choose a different theme besides vacation! 🧳🧉

[jamisonwritestf2trash]

Unprompted Spy Characterization and SpyDad post because I have it on my mind.

TW: Abuse and mental illness

————————————————————

I feel like a lot of people act like Spy left because he's just cruel and awful, or because he was a spy and spies can't have families.

Now I'm aware that this isn't every take on Spy's character, but it seems to be the ones I see most often and the reason that people generally hate Spy as a character (mostly because he's characterized as an unfeeling asshole and a coward) but like, I think its super weird to just boil him down to that?

So hear me out. I think Spy has bipolar disorder, passed down from his dad. I think Spy left because he saw himself turning into his own father. He saw himself going down the road of becoming abusive, and he never wanted to put Scout or Scout's mom through that.

Like, Spy grew up with a dad who abused him most of the time. Always screaming at him no matter what, hitting him for minor mistakes, etc. And he genuinely thought that after he left home, after he started his life over, found love and raised a son, it was all behind him. It was perfect for that one moment, that picture perfect second. Then, one day, when Scout was maybe, two? It was just them in the house, and Scout was crawling/walking around with a drink and spilled a bit of it on Spy's leg. Nothing major by any means, just a slight inconvenience. But something in Spy's mind snapped, and he found himself screaming at Scout, only being snapped out of his spell of anger when Scout started crying.

He realized in that moment that he was just like his dad. That no, he wasn't any different. He had pushed down the mania. He had just been excusing it. His drinking, drugs, and encounters with women weren't just part of the job. It was mania the entire time. The nights he spent locked away, feeling numb and sobbing, weren't normal either. And the spell of anger really made it click in his head. He cried as he comforted Scout, apologizing again and again. That day was the day he knew he had to leave.

I'd like to think his distant behavior and general smugness is a front. It makes it so people don't want to get close to him or even try to get to know him. It's a lot easier that way. He figures he'll keep everyone away forever and never become his dad. So he sits apart from everyone, his guilt eating him alive as punishment for being so awful and leaving his son, who he now sees every day.

————————————————————

I'll be honest, guys. I might be projecting, but anyway! Also, don't worry too much. He'll get the help he needs, eventually :)

I just love making Spydad more nuanced !

[windienine]

YOU. Kicks my legs like we're at a sleepover. Who was the character u were posting about in the tags.. spill..

kicking my legs back, ready to paint your nails at any time soooooo

okay i already dedicated a whole 2k word post to his partner goddess weird animal who bites him sometimes personal jester friend (?) Ysmé, so this time I'm going to spill about Loïc Ard from Soul of Sovereignty (prelude), an hour-long adult fantasy visual novel preview (< link here) that arrived on itch late last year courtesy of webcomic artist GGDG (if you're familiar with Lady of the Shard or CQ, you know their work)

So. This idiot.

look at this character design. the people hunger for men with strong cheekbones and glasses. look at the robes that attach at the fucking fingertips to draw attention to the position of his hands.

He's very soft-spoken and sweet. He knows a lot about the history of his world, as well as the biology of what lives there. He's staggeringly generous to others, even complete strangers. He's good at cooking. He knows how to sing.

He's the viewpoint character for the lion's share of the story atm, we get to look into his brain a little more often than Ysmé's for reasons that Will Become Rapidly Apparent As You Play.

Loïc is a middle-aged guy (late 30s? early 40s?) who works in an unofficial capacity at an inn in bugfuck nowhere (Tarn, a northerly village miles from anywhere else and regularly frozen solid by blizzards, with a population of Not Enough To Maintain Infrastructure), helping to cook, clean, and care for its mostly non-paying clientele, who his friend Alma, the proprietress, is allowing to stay for free. It's become a glorified sickhouse and shelter. No one is paying to stay in Tarn, but Alma can't turn her back on what she considers her hometown and Loïc can't turn his back on Alma (and he's here for other reasons too) so the inn is just kind of slowly decaying as conditions get less and less profitable. This sucks.

Especially because Tarn was built less than a century ago as an adventurers' hub for treasure hunting squads looking to uncover temples and relics right nearby, and the inn used to be full of good people and good food and fire and light and Alma wants all that back so bad it hurts and she refuses to say it's cooked and move back to the big city (in this case, the Mosaic, an ark-like vertical metropolis that housed humanity for hundreds of years after their world's apocalypse. After the outside was deemed safe again a century back, many people wanted to try and make a living documenting and salvaging stuff... but most of it turned out to be decayed, empty, and/or worthless, after so much time had passed.) The Mosaic is bright and lively, but it's a restrictive place to live for a lot of people-- cultures outside the dominant (very fantasy-Catholic) one are suppressed and the focus on making money to survive is exhausting.

But Loïc makes things a little less miserable. He's got a calm and pleasant bearing, he brightens up the place with flowers and greenery he manages to get growing even in this climate (he's a florist), and he's someone to talk to. He's witty, he's thoughtful, and he's almost a little too willing to dedicate all of his time and energy to helping people, and overall he's this mundane nice fella... with one big caveat you learn real early on.

Loïc is a mage, and a really unique sort.

The floristry bit isn't just his job or a characterization quirk, it's the whole basis of his magic. Species of flowers in this world each hold a unique concept-- fire (pallisia), calm (lavender), light (white dawn's eye), mundanity (dandelion), memory (cloud sage), you name it, there's probably some obscure botanical species that represents something in the ballpark of it. A god of language (Fayim) allegedly imbued a meaning into each, and if you can commune and reflect and experiment around hard enough to unravel the concept of one, you can turn that concept into something real.

Think of it like magical linguistics -- [correct flower] + [expressed meaning] = [physical effect], like [correct phonetics] + [contextual meaning] = [language]. You can even chain a couple of them to make a more complex spell, like turning words into compounds, phrases, and sentences, but you do have to understand what it actually means to do so. You're forming a connection to Fayim's power by talking. This burns up the flower, but Loïc's extreme dedication to botany means that he's got a regular supply of the spells he uses most often.

Loïc can hand you a golden pallisia blossom, start waxing poetic about the nature of warmth, and the firelight kept inside will radiate out and keep you comfortable even in Tarn's frigid weather. It's rare and potent stuff, doubly so because worship of Fayim is dwindling-to-nonexistent in the Mosaic, where the only faith and magic most people are familiar with at all are those revering the Builder, the creator deity who erected the Mosaic and saved humanity from the apocalypse in the first place. Everything else? False gods. Loïc himself doesn't worship Fayim or the Builder; he uses Fayimic magic but is pretty disconnected from his own background + faith in general. He's interested in the theology but doesn't use prayers in his invocation if he can help it.

Magic's not foreign to this world (most people in this world know at least a little artisanry, a more logical and physical approach to magic which lets you stitch together bespoke objects out of thin air, used heavily in both art and industry), but flower reading is a rare and dying language. Loïc's cute little flower shop back in the Mosaic was also a spell broker for people in need of small miracles. Given that the Mosaic worships a creator deity, I guess this implies that magic, generally, is something humans tap into extant divinity to borrow.

So, Loïc is holed up in Tarn studying magic and using mending spells (yellow rose) to cure people of minor injuries, but everything goes to hell when a certain sickly blonde washes up at the inn's doorstep begging for help escorting her to a nearby temple please please you gotta, she'll die from turbo tuberculosis otherwise, god (not the builder, some other guy, don't ask who) said so. Oh my gosh, you will? Thank you so muchhhhhh

[paraphrased very hard]

alma: this is definitely a scam of some kind. please just talk her out of this so she doesn't get eaten by mutant wolves.

loïc: oh for sure but you don't try for scam this obvious unless you're really desperate. idk what she even wants here, let me feel her out. i have nothing worth robbing. maybe this is a trauma thing or a money thing and i can talk to her about it.

alma: loïc, that's literally not your problem. loïc there's this weird pattern where you prioritize the hypothetical wants of strangers over your own proven needs. loïc no.

loïc: loïc yes

So, of course, it ends up coming out that Loïc is in Tarn specifically because he is a single father with a daughter named Lelia who is comatose from an unspecified illness. Her prognosis is extremely grim (low chance of survival that dwindles the longer she stays out, probably terminal.)

Specifically, he's on a hopeless little snipe hunt for a rumored species (the glass bell) that could act as a panacea for any illness, if harnessed correctly in a spell, and it might either be extinct or entirely fictitious.

He knows he can't find it alone. If it even exists, it is a needle in an impossibly massive haystack. He is consumed inside-out with a compulsive need to do something about it, and when that proves impossible, it starts spreading into a compulsive need to do something for anyone. The grief of admitting that Lia is already in a prolonged state of death would eat him alive, so if he can transfer that feeling of purpose onto anything else he can buoy himself. He is spinning his wheels because confronting the fact that he has outlived his own daughter and has to go on without her is impossible.

But like... he's dying slowly, too, in this state. Like Lia. Like Tarn. It's only a matter of time before there's nothing left of himself to give, and at the impetus of the story that's basically what he wants. There's nothing left for him.

... Unless...!!

OTHER THINGS:

would give blessings to his daughter every day before she went to school

apparently has a puppy and a kitty back home

loves lavender and sunflowers most

sometimes casts so hard he passes out

including other people and making his casting into a conversation is a quirk he does and that's just super cute

carries pictures of his daughter around in his spellbook maes hughes style

besides his suspiciously alb-and-chasuble looking mage robes, wears an apron and skirt around the house + gg regularly draws him in cute dresses. this is a known victor's weakness.

the in-game glossary has botany notes from him, usually paired with him waxing poetic about each species' meaning. this nerd shit is a known victor's weakness.

you see his general bearing and a lot of people assume he's kind of this easily-flustered anxious disaster type, but he's actually very serene and difficult to get a rise out of. he'll play along with most jokes you try to throw at him. if he does actually freak out at any point, you know something is up.

we don't know what happened between him and his ex, but there are dialogue clues that point to it being weird and messy. he's played very interestingly as far as divorcee characters go (conflict-avoidant rather than desperate for love, wants to be the better person at every opportunity), what with being a man who has primary custody of his kid (and a good relationship with her!) and taking on a position that the audience would probably identify as more motherly than fatherly, in terms of western gender roles. there's this fun contrast where he's very confident in his looks and presentation and bearing (very charismatic guy!!), but a lot of that is traditionally feminine. he's just very genderous.

(all of this tragically forgoes the meat of his special connection to ysmé, but that is the core premise of the prelude and if i got into that here it would really and truly give away the whole plot. i need you to experience her for yourself. (for ten dollar.) if you do not have ten dollar i will stream the game for you and give GG an additional ten dollar. this is a threat.)

(what i WILL say is that if you read lady of the shard, looked at the "sexualized mind control" tw beforehand and went "well now i want to read it more and not less," there is a delicious taste of that here and it once again intersects heavily with themes of control and coercion over the self, skewed power dynamics, and the emotions that arise from them.)

whatever horseshit this confluence of circumstances makes you assume he will pull, i guarantee you it is not the full picture of what actually happens.

[luffythinker]

OKOKO list

Kirishima/Monoma

- Overtime by OkeyDokeyTodoroki (swimtime) for Bonster - this one is short but it's really cute

Hold Me Tight by Queen_Preferences for EpicKiya722

Sweets and Tents by redinkvibes

Lady nagant & Overhaul not a ship but i thought it was until i read it

- I Hope This Letter Finds You A Broken Husk Of A Man by Jokers_Card_Deck

he has a panic attack several times and she helps him even tho she hates the things he does she isn't gonna be unhuman and leave him

Sero/Iida

- 5-Inch Inseams by Cloudsu - this one is like really nsfw but the characterization of Sero is really funny and it's like crack taken seriously and i think its a funny read but also OH BOY SEROS REALLY GAY

Mina/Camie

- going home by linzbees - this one is really cute like i dont even go here with this ship but its really cute, they play baseball and dont have quirks

BKDK

kacchan's letter by spiketheespiegel

spilling over every side by failbender - nsfw

TDBK

No Strings Attached by menofsweaters - nsfw its very entertaining and i love how they are characterized here

KiriKami

Just Jokes by pretty_werewolf - this one isn't finished and i dont think they are gonna finish it but its still really good 2 chapters

Bro by mismashrory for chibistarlyte - nsfw but like its silly but like Jirou is really funny in this one

BakuIida

one single thread of gold by aloera for turnandburn - its funny how they interact i love them

EraserMic

Can't Help Falling In Love by drunkenCharm - short but lovely

hope you can read some of these cause those are just a few

I'm gonna link it all here and give my short thoughts on it!! the ones in orange are my favorites!

Kirishima / Monoma

Overtime - OkeyDokeyTodoroki (swimtime) - this was short and sweet and it makes me want to read a longer work of them processing their feelings after that kiss

Hold Me Tight - Queen_Preferences - also very very sweet, i love seeing them in love!!

Sweets and Tents - redinkvibes - this one was fun!!! lowkey feel like Monoma would hate to go hiking/camping but he would do it because of Kirishima and then be mad that he actually enjoyed it

Lady nagant & Overhaul

I Hope This Letter Finds You A Broken Husk Of A Man - Jokers_Card_Deck - this was an interesting read, it feels like a character study and it makes me think more about the nuances of lady nagant

Sero / Iida

5-Inch Inseams - Cloudsu - “Why do you insist on flirting with me when you’re drunk and then forgetting I exist when you’re sober?” oh they're so why'd you only call me when you're high coded, I'm screamingggg, this was my favorite so far (no like i wish you guys could see my face rn)

Mina / Camie

going home - linzbees - very cuteeeee, i really enjoyed this couple, love seeing girls thriving

Bakugo Katsuki / Midoriya Izuku

kacchan's letter - spiketheespiegel - “You are so fucking beautiful it pisses me off,” that's basically their whole dynamic in a sentence byeeeejkdfjkfjk i also enjoyed this one, but i also love bkdk with all my heart so who is surprised

spilling over every side - failbender - fun fact i have already read this one a couple of years ago??? it's really good, i love bkdk in quirk accident scenarios (I have recently read one of Izuku hit with a sleeping beauty curse)

Todoroki Shouto / Bakugo Katsuki

No Strings Attached - menofsweaters - this is the only one i didn't read it all cause it's a bit long, but i read the first chapter and it does seem promising!! it's also very well written and I'm lowkey curious about the previous works of the series, so i might get into those first before continuing this

Kirishima / Kaminari

Just Jokes - pretty_werewolf - ok you are very evil for sending me this, cause it's TOO GOOD and UNFINISHED why would you condemn me like this???? now i NEED more and there isn't

Bro - mismashrory - A BROJOBKJDFKJDFK this gotta be the most on-brand thing for them like omg, your honor they have one brain cell left. please i can't stop laughing this is just too gooddfkjdfkjfdkj jirou is such a slay we love her

Bakugo Katsuki / Iida Tenya

one single thread of gold - aloera - this one got me since I read the title cause it's taylor swift lyrics!! i loved bakugo just showing up to his room and demanding iida to stop being weird like honey have u seen yourselfjdflkdf “you tricked me into being friends with you. This is coercion.” THIS IS SO BAKUGO-CORE I CANTJHHKF i really loved this one, the author has a really nice way to portray bakugo and iida, i enjoyed it a lot

Eraserhead / Present Mic

Can't Help Falling In Love - drunkenCharm - this one was also short and sweet, i must say i don't usually read about them but it's very lovely!!

[kaurwreck]

For the song ask game!!! I hope when you shuffle for this ask you get chuuya's character song or wake up call from the dead apple ost or something equally gay

full disclosure: with some semi-rare exceptions, I don't usually add OST or character songs to my playlists because part of why i make character playlists is to tease out my understanding of their characterizations and dynamics by extrapolating my understanding and applying it to noncanonical material. for playlists that are explicitly about a specific dynamic, i also generally avoid single-character songs. every song has to relate to who they are relative to the other character(s) or their relationship with the other character(s).

(i do love bsd's ost and anime sound design though, it's bop after bop)

okay for the ask game!!!!

Real Love Song, Nothing But Thieves

This is a love song, real love Dirty rip out the whole of your soul love I'll hate myself for days love Sitting all alone and listening to Nick Cave love ... This is a dark song, real dark Feral tear off your skin to the bone dark I’ll drink myself to death dark Do anything to feel your breath on my neck dark ... This is a sad song, so sad Aching like it's more than I can take sad I cried so hard I died sad Losing all that's making me human inside sad

in the timeline of their relationship, this song exists in the interim between dazai leaving the port mafia and the guild arc. i fully believe dazai fell first, fell hard, and fell semi-gleefully, but when he left the port mafia, he wanted to leave. his aches and traumas around mori and who he was then are tangled and messy, evidenced by the extent to which the port mafia makes him emotionally erratic and passively self-contradictory (the image he projects starts to glitch as his sincerity and uncertainty trip over themselves) during the guild arc. that suggests to me he hasn't fully processed and struggles to reconcile what was good and golden about his time in the port mafia (including chuuya) with his prey animal fear of it and his inability to become someone other than himself.

from his perspective, he shouldn't be having this problem. he fucking ditched the port mafia; he went no-contact, off the grid, full ego death and death of his prior self. it's something he's used to; it's what he seemed to have done when he found mori. dazai is comfortable ripping out parts of himself and leaving them behind.

however, he can't do it this time. he tried, he really, really tried. but he couldn't. he couldn't let go of who and what he loved in the port mafia, and chuuya brings that into sharp relief. dazai couldn't just leave without first telling chuuya (by setting his car on fire), couldn't just disappear without some assurance to chuuya that he'd gone on his own, by sending a message only chuuya could understand (setting his car on fire). (chuuya says "that was you?!" when dazai references it later, but the feigned ignorance is part of their intricate rituals; how else would chuuya know to open the 1889 Petrus.)

(the omake dazai in which chuuya drunk dials dazai is especially damning: he kept the cellphone he had in the port mafia. not only that, he kept the same number, and he kept it on and charged. he got a new one too, as he tells hirotsu, sure. but he didn't get rid of the old one, and he didn't even turn it off. because, after all, what if chuuya called him?)

and then, of course, as soon as there's the slightest excuse to spill his past into his present (and now that he feels almost secure enough to do so), he can't help but go see chuuya. he didn't need to get captured to get the info he wanted on atsushi's bounty. he wanted to see him. he's wanted to see him for four years, he's thought about him every day, he misses him and his reactivity and who he is and he's both very aware of it and sooooooo mad about it.

i fully believe dazai when he tells chuuya, "I hate everything about you too." because dazai is very self aware, he's fully clocked his inability to let chuuya go. chuuya's roots in him are inextricable and dazai loves him with a ferocity that he doesn't completely believe people can feel or reciprocate, and he hates it because it's exposing and vulnerable and makes him feel like raw meat instead of an intangible, untouchable anomaly. (i.e., human, it makes him feel human, and he can't trust that feeling because he's also convinced humans can't actually love (not with any depth) least of all reciprocate his love, creating a paradoxical spiral that could be resolved if he admitted humans can in fact love how he loves, and they can even love him like that too, indicating that he is also human. but. the mental diseases). he loves everything about chuuya, and because of that, he hates everything about him too.

(whenever love and hate are this entangled, it reminds me of what aphrodite says to helen in the iliad: ‘Wretched girl, do not tease me lest in anger I forsake you and grow to hate you as much as now I terribly love you, lest I encompass you in hard hate, caught between both sides, Danaans and Trojans alike, and you wretchedly perish.’)

Can I sing this to you? Got a thing about you And it won't go away, no It won't go away It won’t go away ... This is a love song, so what? Did it slide into your heart? I guess not I still want your love a whole lot Have you heard a better song? Oh, I hope not ... Can I sing this to you? Got a thing about you And it won't go away It won't go away And I just came to say That it won’t go away It won’t go away

so, dazai loves chuuya and hates him for how much he can't help but love him. but what's so special about the dazai we're introduced to, the current dazai, is how he's beginning to succumb to his love. his attachments to others were a threat, but repeatedly in bsd, he gingerly prods that threat, tentatively hoping it's a promise too. and repeatedly in bsd, he is assured that it is.

it's why he can flit back to tease chuuya, and why it didn't take much at all for him to abandon any attempt to separate who he is from his attachments in the port mafia. he came to chuuya and all but spilled his guts to say that it won't go away. that he wanted to see him, that he can't stop thinking about him, that he won't let chuuya rest either because he can't help it, and that he's stopped trying. so what?

(and no, he can't sing it to chuuya quite so explicitly, he knows what will coax chuuya and what will make chuuya violently demur; it took five flags holding chuuya at proverbial gunpoint to restrain him enough to affirm their affection for him overtly without getting slung through multiple concrete buildings.)

for me, this song encompasses a critical juncture in dazai's growth, the moment dazai began to yield to the anguish of adoring chuuya even though that meant yielding, also, to the reality that he was still himself, even after shedding his prior skin.

[passthroughtime]

coming to your ask box to tell you that what you said about kuwana being protective of yagami is real and true actually. if kuwana weren't so busy trying to keep himself safe, he'd be doing more to try and keep yagami out of this (though he also desperately wants to be with him more). kuwana knows that yagami can handle a few scratches (and an explosion apparently, lmao) but he would take it very personally if anything ever happened to yagami ....i think. perhaps we're having shared delusions

thank you jichan, you're still the only one ever

yeah. though, he knew if he just went and disappeared without letting yagami know where he's going, it would kinda slow his process of getting into shit and endangering himself, even if for a bit. if kuwana actively and purposely involved him into everything, yagami would be in much more trouble i think. killing him was always an afterthought for RK, but if he'd be involved with kuwana more, well... it just paints a target on his back. and yagami wouldn't try to hide. he has ties to other people, he has something to lose.

so pushing yagami away and out of this all was a bit "two birds with one stone" kind of situation

though he also desperately wants to be with him more

yeah lol, i just realized that when kuwana gives him the pendant so he'd help ehara, he says that yagami is the only one he can trust with it, and like, really? you have lots of accomplices whose actions you can literally control, jeez, man xD

and of course kuwana suspected (or anticipated) that yagami would use this against ehara, so there's that also. but. his motivations are a mess, so we can be a little delusional about this as well i think

and an explosion apparently, lmao

explosion is nothing compared to all injuries yagami suffered in the end of JE, kuwana figured, he can survive a little explosion <3 it'd be good for him <3

but he would take it very personally if anything ever happened to yagami

no no, you're right. i mean, he does beat himself up over sawa, as well as mitsuru. he couldn't not feel responsible if this case would lead to yagami's demise as well. if anything, i can't say that kuwana doesn't care about other people. he even cares about his students even knowing that they despise him (i can't stop thinking about the fact that he agreed to meet with yagami so they'd release mamiya... it's not like he was afraid she'd spill everything, i mean, he tells yagami about a lot of things himself)

or maybe i really want to think that kuwana is a better person than he actually is. idk.

tbh i doubt my characterization of them a lot, hence all these disclaimers lol. and i really want to know other's opinions and why i can be wrong in how i view them? i mean, we are a small community. i can see people disagreeing with me, though in silence. but i want to discuss this, because i strive to see all sides of things, and i think it's fun to take their relationship apart again and again

i re-watch quite, uh. let's say, often the cutscenes featuring the two of them, and sometimes the moments where there's only mentions of them. i've started to write an "analysis" of each scene and their (presumed) reactions to their interactions, because it really does make things clearer in my head. i'm replaying the game rn, trying to see anything beyond my insanity lmao, but it's still just one view on things, you know? i really want to have a discussion and see where i can be wrong. and just... it'd be fun to listen other people talking about my favourite characters.

(is this approach insane? of course! but i'm having fun at the very least, and if i can have fun two years after i've finished LJ for the first time, well, i'll take it.)

when i say that i think about them a lot, i really mean it lol. (that's not my first rodeo, so business as usual for me.) but even if i strive to open-minded, and even if i re-visit canon again and again, it's hard to not be biased about lots of things.

and, yeah, i'm really glad to hear that you agree with me on this hc. but even if you, or anyone else, didn't, i'd want to hear all about it

[just-an-enby-lemon]

The reason I enjoy comic books soo much is because there's soo many versions of a characther that in the end most fans - if not all - end up nitpicking the characterizations they like and creating a completely unique version of the characthers that is similar to cannon but also unique and thanks to that comic books become a subjetive experience and creating shared perceptions and exploring it becames a fun bonding activity.

That's to say that while sunshine Dick, coffe Tim and waffles Steph are tropes that mostly don't ressonate with me (same for a lot of fannon Jason) I enjoy some versions of it and I'm fine with people using and liking it and genuinally get a bit annoyed with comic purists trying to blame and insult fannon because their versions are not based on cannon reality. That being said I can't say the same for normal Duke. This trope not only has no basis for interpretation in cannon at all to the point it def wasn't created from a place of love (and more likely it's creators never read a comic with Duke in at all) but because for the batfam fannon Duke only exists in function of other characthers. Things that go this way not only completly mischaracterize Duke but do that so instead of the awesome guy he is he can became a tool for help on the narrative of other characthers. Either by being their moral center or by being the punchline as they teach him the batfamily ways or some other bs. This tropes exist to put Duke on the backseat.

The biggest proof of that is that when people started pointing out Normal Duke made no sense people's reaction was to go to "insert characther THINKS Duke is normal" because is never about Duke. Since Duke isn't the plot device by being either the moral center, the punchline or the new guy who needs help he becomes a plot device as his weirdinnes and bravery becomes a thing that other characthers discover and are shocked by. He only exists on others reactions of him. Normal Duke or Secretly Weird Duke take away Duke's autonomy and makes him merely a prop for other Batfam members stories. And the fact that this is still the case and very popular (other similar tropes sometimes happen with other characthers namely puting woman as armchair psychologists, specially Cass, but never with this intencity) and happened mostly with the only proeminent black characther on the Batfam fandom is pretty telling (just as the fact the Fox Family is completly ignored even when Tam, Luke and Lucius are active members and Jace Fox was Batman).

Disclaimer:

I'm not saying you can't dislike tropes like coffe Tim or waffles Steph, you can and should interact with fandom anyway you want as long as it isn't spilling some harmfull rethoric. What I'm saying is that is not cool to feel superior to fans that use and like this tropes or insult them. The Normal Duke or Secretly Weird Duke tropes are a different story on my personal books and hating the users as much as the trope is totaly valid here (also it is valid to fight and get angry with people that get angry when this tropes aren't used).

[belit0]

Truce and Cancer - MadaIzu

Well well, I found myself writing an angsty little piece for my favorite pair of brothers based on two of my favorite songs. Needed to get this out of my system��️‍🩹

"Could you... get me a drink... of water? My... lips... chapped and faded..." His voice aches in the ears of anyone who knows him, a hint of what little is left of him after days of arduous fighting a deadly infection.

Hikaku can only listen to him and grit his teeth hard, try not to curse the world, the Senjus, how merciless life is for taking another soul brother from him so cruelly. Izuna slowly disappears, each day a little more, since that cursed man dared to pierce him with his sword.

He holds a glass of water near his mouth, and helps him raise his head so as not to spill it on himself. Izuna drinks and coughs violently, body unable to tolerate anything at this point, ready to leave.

He doesn't have much time left.

"Call my... father... help him gather all my things... and... Aniki..."

"My dear Aniki..."

"Bury me in all my favorite colors..."

He speaks to him as if he were Madara, and in Izuna's fevered and consumed mind, Hikaku takes the form of his older brother.

Who a few days ago was joking with everyone and bragging about how he would bring the head of the cursed second Senju in command now withers in his bed, death hovering over him with longing.

His cousin has been sitting beside him for days, replacing the position the clan leader should be taking. No one could talk sense into Madara, unable to bring him out of his denial, to get him to visit his brother before it was too late.

The Uchiha does not leave his room, refusing to eat or see anyone, locked in his own world of suffering. It is impossible to know what is going through his mind, what is preventing him from holding his younger brother's hand for the last time, accompanying him in his last hours of life.

"My sisters and my brothers, still... Aniki..."

Hearing Izuna talk about people long gone, seeing him hallucinate from fever and calling his father, his brothers, as if they could come to see him, attend him, only ends up breaking his heart.

Hikaku has had enough.

He stands up decisively, making sure a doctor stays by his cousin's side as he walks to the leader's room and opens the door without knocking. His eyes are met with a mess of clothes and blood, armor strewn across the floor and weapons in disarray, a clear graphic representation of what Madara's head must be like at the moment.

The clan leader stares at him in shock from behind his desk, wracked by the agony and pain of what is happening, holding a bottle of sake and dressed only in a loose robe. His image speaks for itself, and it pains Hikaku to have to interrupt his duel, but he will not be able to forgive himself if he does not intervene in time.

Madara has one last time to say goodbye, and it is now or never.

The two connect glances and the sadness that his cousin is in charge of transmitting is enough for the leader to stand up, arrange his clothes as best he can, and cross the corridor that separates him from his younger brother. He has avoided that room since they arrived after the battle, like not seeing Izuna would make the problem invisible, as if nothing was happening, everything was unreal.

He crosses the door with his head down, and the doctor in charge of his brother quickly excuses himself to give them privacy. The world ends in that place, on his Izuna's deathbed, the last vision he will ever have of him.

His mind is a mess of suffering and pain, loss and grief, aching in advance as if mourning his younger brother before he disappears will make things easier later. He cannot tolerate the image, cannot see him without the energy that characterizes him, without his venomous and sarcastic remarks, without his terrible and beautiful way of being.

He can't deal with this.

Madara kneels down beside him, and holds his hand. Izuna is surprised at the contact, and looks at him for a good few seconds before his feverish mind realizes this is his Aniki. He gives him a weak, limp smile, before resting his knuckles on his dry lips.

"I will not kiss you... cause... the hardest part of this, is leaving you." He speaks in an almost imperceptible voice, a sound that Madara has trouble recognizing, assimilating with his brother. Seeing Izuna in this state breaks his heart, unable to come to terms with the idea that a part of his soul will soon disappear.

He will take the last of his love with him.

"Turn away Aniki... I'm awful just to see..." His words feel coherent within all the confusion that drives his body, as if he is making a last effort to give him a glimpse of who he used to be, to prevent his older brother from being left with a weak image of him.

Izuna always had the need to protect him as if the roles were reversed, and today he tries to shield him from himself, to guard Madara from the pain he will feel when he finally lets him go.

"All my strenght abandoned my body... my agony... I'm counting down the days to go..." He smiles as always, that grin he usually gives when talking nonsense, but this time his speech presents a sepulchral seriousness. Izuna knows death is dancing over his head, waiting for the perfect moment to steal his last breath, and he is not unaware that it will happen soon.

He does his best to prepare his brother with the last effort he has left.

"This... just ain't livin', and I just hope you know... I will not kiss you" He looks at Madara with conviction, determination in everything he says, and his older brother has no choice but to succumb in front of him, to finally come to terms with what is happening, to shed all the tears he must. Izuna squeezes his hand with what little strength he has left, and it feels like the caress of a small child rather than the action of a grown man.

He is fading.

"Izuna... if you say goodbye today..." He pauses because he can't find a way to speak without breaking down, to put into words all the despair he feels, "I'll ask you to be true... Cause the hardest part of this is leaving you... Yes, the hardest part of this... just stay alive, stay alive for me, please..." He cannot continue talking, the anguish consuming his throat, pressing on his chest, making him sob without restraint. Madara collapses in front of his younger brother's deathbed, helpless at not being able to save him, feeling useless for failing to do anything about it. "If you go, I will fear the night again..."

Not even all the alcohol in the world can silence the pain in his body, the panic that runs in his veins at the thought of losing the last real connection in his life. Izuna will take everything with him, the last glimmers of his sanity and all the love he ever felt as well.

"Stay alive, stay alive for me, please..." He lays his forehead on his brother's chest, praying he can stay there forever, listening to life, a heart beating, lungs swelling, even if it is with too much strain to be okay.

"I will die... but now my life is free, Aniki... Take pride in what is sure to die..."

"Please... please..."

"I will not kiss you... Madara..."

After a few seconds from his last words, Izuna's chest stops swelling with life, his heart stops beating, and his lungs no longer draw in air. His last brother, the only reason to continue living, disappears under his eyes, useless hands trying to hold him and contain those last seconds in him, to make them last forever.

Madara's desperate cries are the ones that announce Izuna's departure.

[your-actual-therapist]

tumblr legalese (or, why it's safer to keep an emotional support dark lord around for emergencies)

sometimes i feel like i have to add legal disclaimers to the things i write on the internet, like those "may experience sudden diarrhea or pet death" disclaimers they have at the end of drug ads. mine would read, "not responsible for not anticipating all the ways you'll deliberately misinterpret and fuck up my advice, thus proving me a villain."

i feel this way because people are so good at playing that weird game where they take something you wrote and put it in the worst possible context to make you sound like an irredeemably terrible person.

feel a mote of self-esteem? only narcissists feel that way, and narcissists have abused me, and therefore you're abusing me now.

eat when you're hungry? some people can't eat and have to be tube-fed. your privilege is showing.

self-compassion? what if there's a bear near you? how can someone have self-compassion when they're being attacked by BEARS. priorities. smh.

trans women are beautiful? AM I, A CISGENDER PERSON WITH A SKIN AS THIN AS WET TOILET PAPER, NOT BEAUTIFUL?!?!

and as you can imagine i'm like:

i'm not relating any of this to "cancel culture" or "snowflakeism" or whatever other buzzword fascists are using to characterize actual harm as valid opinion. i think the truth is weirder.

rules, fear, and extremes

the expectations tumblr-adjacent people have for themselves and others are extreme. they are extreme in the sense that they have taken sensible statements like "be aware of others' feelings" or "remember that not everyone shares your experiences" and turned these reasonable views into unrecognizable, rigid, toxically exaggerated rules.

as a therapist, i have noticed that this tends to happen to people who have done a lot of therapy or self-reflection and continue to struggle with uncertainty. the therapist or self-help book says "have boundaries" or "take responsibility" and they're like, "i like this concept, but i don't want to make any judgment calls about it. my judgment could be wrong. being wrong would be catastrophic. i need solid, unambiguous rules for every situation."

so they morph that advice into something ridiculous. "have boundaries" becomes "have indiscriminately rigid boundaries," and "take responsibility" becomes "take responsibility for everything that results from your behavior, even stuff that you couldn't have anticipated." the only 100% safe situation, if you're not okay making mistakes and being wrong, is one where the rules are inflexible and taken to their logical extreme.

want to write a fanfic featuring a romantic relationship between two characters who are teenagers? you're an evil pedophile.

you think some foods have different nutritional properties than other foods and that people need more than just cheez-its and coffee for their bodies to work? obviously you're a diet fiend and encouraging anorexia.

you're neurodivergent and you're not always 100% jazzed about the challenges your neurodivergence brings to your life? ableist.

cosmic uncertainty and the allure of safety

these "rules" may sound silly, but they're also safe. without rigid rules, you're forced to take risks. you have to use your brain and assess the situation, and you could be wrong. you may then have to admit to other people that you were wrong and engage with them to learn to do better. you may not ever know whether you made the right call.

on a cosmic level, that gets scary.

because what if you can't ever know whether you're doing the right thing? what if you're going to be uncertain about the important things in your life forever? what if it's not possible to be certain? what if your perceptions and judgments are fallible? what if you're alone in your brain and no one can ever reach in there and be like, "that's what you meant"?

behind every inflexible rule is a deep well of fear. you see it in incel communities, where they've spilled millions of gallons of E-Ink© trying to make sense of their world by explaining sexual success by millimeters of difference in eye position. you see it in dogmatic expressions of religion, which can't allow for human fallibility or subtle shades of gray because if they did, their followers would have to risk being uncertain about something. you see it in those baffling self-help articles that turn self-evident statements like "be mindful of your time and energy" into dramatic extremes like "it's always okay to cancel on people at the last minute 'cause, y'know, self-care!"

enter the villain

so—back to tumblr legalese. my hunch is that it feels satisfying to call someone out based on a rule you believe in, even if that rule is profoundly weird and doesn't take human nuances into account. it's satisfying because it allows you to have a villain.

villains are simple. you don't have to think about whether darth vader or nurse ratched are bad people, and you don't have to waste time untangling your own motives for opposing them. there is no moral ambivalence or cosmic uncertainty. you don't even have to defeat a villain to feel good. it's enough just to know you're fighting the good fight, and that as long as you do that, your life is not meaningless. maybe you haven't defeated the villain, but you know what you have defeated? anxiety.

without a villain, you're left to your own fragile human abilities. what's scarier than pennywise? meaninglessness. uncertainty. being alone in your own brain.

i will leave you with the words of the existential psychotherapist ernest becker, who summed it up in one of my favorite books, the denial of death, much better than my terribly congested, snot-filled self can right now:

Beyond ourselves we sense chaos. We can’t really do much about this unbelievable power, except for one thing: we can endow certain persons with it. The child takes natural awe and terror and focuses them on individual beings, which allows him to find the power and the horror all in one place instead of diffused throughout a chaotic universe. Mirabile! The transference object, being endowed with the transcendent powers of the universe, now has in himself the power to control, order, and combat them.

[sepyana]

Jjba Stardust Crusaders ep 16-20 thoughts

Ep. 16 and 17

This one's a two parter. I didn't talk about the portrayal of the countries visited because I don't have much of an opinion on them. I'm not from from those places. I am middle eastern tho so I wanted to talk about some stuff here.

So, Fun fact! Döner and Kebab are two different foods. It's just that joints that sell one usually sell the other. The food is named Döner (Dön meaning spin, -er being the present simple tense or same suffix in English. Meaning It spins OR spinner.) When it spread to Europe and rest of the middle east it got the name "Doner Kebab". I just thought that was cool.

Bargaining bit is pretty funny. Joseph's advice isn't half bad. I've never seen people bargain or overcharge for street food but It's pretty much expected in bazaars. You gotta learn how to do it if you are a tourist because it's expected also you WILL get scammed at some point.

OKAY, now onto the actual episode. The lovers card is not only for romantic/sexual relationships. It encapsulates all relationships and connections. Dan's stand "connects" his target to himself. I thought the lovers would be two people with matching stands or something. This is a fun take on the card though, omitting the romantic/sexual context altogether.

Wow Jotaro is mad. I don't think we have seen him being this brash before. I think it's funny how Polnareff mutters "He just might" when Kakyoin is says "Are you trying to kill your grandfather?!". He never would, but it's funny that Polnareff thinks he would consider it. (The music for this scene slaps btw. if you even care)

This is a nice bit of characterization of Jotaro. He does most of the things Dan says, while also trying to explode him with his mind. The whole time you're watching you're like "Dan's ass will be absolutely destroyed next episode lol"

Stands being able to shrink like that makes sense, Green Hierophant could do it. Not to this extent but still. Having a battle in Joseph's brain is a fun idea either way.

I think Jotaro writing Dan's bs in his notebook was to help him calm his nerves a bit.

I can't believe the jewelers started beating in him up with a bad, telling him to go back to his country and shit. Made worse by the fact that Jotaro is like, 17. I know he doesn't look like it but the characters seem to be aware of it. They call him "that asian kid".

Ep. 18

^ This is probably the most expressive Star Platinum has ben so far.

I have no idea what the fuck is. going on with this episode.

So the first half is really boring. I'd make fun of Jotaro for wearing a black coat in a desert but it's better than not wearing it at all.

I actually thought something bad happened to Kakyoin but no he is fine.

At the end of the episode Joseph was like "Is that it? The end of the episode?" Jotaro just answers "Yeah shut the fuck up old man"

^ They are so normal

Ep. 19-20

I did guess there was gonna be a Kakyoin episode my last post. Well, we get two. I'm not complaining, he is shaping up to be my favourite.

Kakyoin's first instinct when he sees the dog is to pet it, which is the correct response btw. The dog dies in 2 minutes because Araki has something against dogs.

Our stand for today is Death 13! It's a better name than just Death tbh, Death is something you'd call the main villain's stand. It's really strong, like, TOO strong. The crew basically stumbles into victory this time. If the other stands are as strong as this one, they might be in trouble. Making the stand user of death, new beginnings and change a baby was a smart move.

I love that Polnareff sees Kakyoin wake up screaming, hears him say he had a horrible dream and the first.thimg he does is tell him to spill the tea.

I initially thought the Polnareff in the dreamworld was fake. There is no way he is that stupid. Turns out he is that stupid, actually.

Y'know, after the third one you'd think Joseph would get rid of planes as an option. But no

This episode doesn't fall to the same pitfall of being infuriating like other's similar to it. You can see why the crew doesn't trust him. If I saw my friend with letters cut into his arm saying a BABY was a stand user my first thought wouldn't be "Oh, I see. We should kill thr baby then."

It is undeniably funny that the people who thought someone having dusty windows in the middle of the desert made them a stand user didn't think anything of Kakyoin's sudden change. I can't balme them tho. A baby stand user feels like a stretch at best.

Polnareff thinking about apologizing to Kakyoin while he is about to die is strangely wholesome. Their friendship is my favourite part of the show, personally.

Kakyoin is the only one to remember the whole thing. He is so energized by the rush of victory that he makes everyone breakfast. Also makes the baby eat his own shit. He was so wild for this

I'm fighting tooth and nail to get these screencaps from Youtube just.to make this a bit more readable. Typing "jjba death..." on the search bar was like entering a mine field.

Anyways, I wanna make some predictions for my future self to laugh at later. Polnareff is gonna be the first to die, assuming he dies, which I think he will.

[anouri]

if you dont have any advice feel free to ignore this but do you have any tips for getting back into writing after not doing it for a while? recently fell out of a fandom ive been in for ~2 years & i still want to write but i dont know What anymore

hi! i don't have any solid or structured advice, but i can tell you what i've done in the past to get me out of a rut and hopefully it helps!

i think the biggest thing that causes me to kind of get stuck is when i try to plan what i'm writing too much. i know a lot of writing tips say "outline this, outline that, plan your characterization, etc etc" and i (perhaps controversially) say fuck all that! 75% of the stuff i write has no strict plan, because whenever i do that i end up backing myself into a corner. lots of my writing comes from me just throwing down the first thing that comes to my head, even if it doesn't make sense logistically—you can always edit later, but i find just dumping your thoughts no matter how incoherent gives your mind the freedom to be creative and helps when you don't know what to write

so, i guess i would say is to literally write the first thing that comes to your mind and try to word associate from there. idk what fandom you're in, but i'll give a marauders example just bc that's what i write for lol: for some reason, the first thing that came to mind was remus & coffee. okay, so i have two things, a character and a topic or object. so then i have to come up with some sort of conflict or something going wrong, something that'll incite whatever plot i have in the future. the first thing that comes to mind is the coffee getting spilled on him. okay, so what could cause coffee to get spilled? maybe he's already had too much coffee, so his hands were shaky and he dropped it. why has he had too much coffee? he couldn't sleep last night. why couldn't he sleep? he argued with sirius. why would they argue?—

i'm not sure if this is helping at all, but you see what i am doing, yeah? all you need is just one character and one other thing, and just keep asking yourself 'why?'. this gives you a starting point and maybe you'll come up with a more in-depth idea or plot to write about, or maybe you'll just continue to follow that train of thought. i don't think the latter is a bad thing, either. (and if you can't think of a word or scenario, you can google 'random word generator' or you can look up writing prompts on tumblr. i've done both before)

if you do feel the need to plan What, i really think the only plan that is maybe necessary in terms of fics is a beginning, the conflict that happens about 3/4 of the way through, and the end. the rest you can work as you go through it. think about what your favorite thing is to read, and perhaps that'll help. what is your favorite sort of conflict? maybe you enjoy reading interpersonal conflict, or maybe you enjoy a character's primary conflict to be with themselves. how do you like the fics you read to begin and end? do you like fics that jump straight into action or ease you into the plot? i think asking yourself what you like is also another way to get ideas

but yeah! this was rambly, but i really hope it helped at least a little bit!!

OH editing to add: i just realized what you meant by fell out of a fandom. in terms of that, my advice is still the same; if you mean that you want to write original work than fics, i'd say instead of fandom characters you can just insert your own. drawing from your own personality or people you know is a good place to start, and then you can develop a character's idiosyncracies from there as time goes on

[mylevisdontfitanymore]

What’re your thoughts on Pre-war au in which, instead of being skinny, Steve has always been fat? Not just fat, huge? Still short, but wider than he is tall too?

I love the concept 1,000%

Buuuut I unfortunately always have my overthinking turned on and so my annoying little brain goes but what about the depression? They'd never have been able to afford enough food for Steve to be so wonderfully fat and huge. And if they did it would be a Steve and a Bucky who's families are rich and high class which would change so much of Steve's characterization. Plus-

Me, to myself: stop brain. You're too much think-y.

It would be wonderful for such a fat Steve. I love the idea. If we turn off ours brains and ignore canon entirely and just think about fat, pre-serum Steve I have LOTS of thoughts:

Unbeta'd, warnings for fantasy immobility but actual morbid obesity, stuffing, tight clothing/button popping, etc.

Steve's always sitting down on the couch with his chubby hands rubbing his big, fat tummy as it crowds his lap. Actually, he doesn't have a lap left considering how his belly extends all the way to his knees- rounder than he'd ever imagined a human. Swollen.

Steve's always halfway to a food coma too, stuffed and never not in the middle of digesting something sweet because he really does have a sweet tooth the size of Texas. Anyone can tell just by looking at him. Pig. Always rubbing his belly to sooth it and to feel the way all the excess air (he's a major fan of bloating in addition to wanting to be stuffed to the point of pressure and pain and so, so much pleasure. bloating with bread and beer that increases his capacity over time, stretching his stomach to take even more) rumbles around. Although the sensation of bloating is always muted these days, dampened under that thick layer of fat. Blubber as Bucky sometimes calls it. Steve, his little whale... gotta make sure he's able to survive in the coldest of water, packing and packing on the pounds.

Bucky is nearly always tracing Steve's NUMEROUS stretch marks too. He can't help it. There's always new stretch marks appears over his excess flesh anyway. Steve is just exploding out faster than his body can keep up with. Bursting at the seams.

ALSO-

Steve, wider than he is tall, with a stuffy, period appropriate button-up straining around his gurgling, massive gut. The buttons will pop (and shoot off all the way to the other side of the room with all the weight behind them) sooner rather than later. And when they do, his h u g e gut comes spilling out, expanding into the space; pushing the shirt halves apart and rolling his undershirt right up. Exposing the softest part of him. So, so much extra padding there- that massive mound of fat.

Like that, shirt busted open, buttons long gone until Bucky sews them back on and forces Steve back into the shirt again and again just to see proof of how BIG he's grown, Steve's belly is framed by a) his shirt of course and b) his suspenders. Suspenders that cut into his love handles and sides and just... all of his everywhere because he's so fucking fat.

At one point, Steve gets to a level of fatness that means he has red marks from all of his clothes cutting into his soft flesh all the time. Even his biggest clothes leave the marks: the waist band of his pants and trousers, the stained buttons of his shirts holding back all that fat, and the tight stretch of his suspenders at either side of his tummy. His ribbed undershirts leave impressions on his skin too! He's most comfortable naked from then on. Its not fair that he has to wear clothes! He just can't stop growing out of them! Its not his fault that food is so delicious but it is his fault (and Bucky's) that he stuffs ungodly amounts of it into himself until he's whining and moaning, holding his belly like he's personally trying to keep it from splitting at the seams.

As a result of the above ^ (and also as a result of Steve stuffing himself with too much food, giving himself a tummy ache as he often does) Bucky usually ends up spending hours and hours rubbing the marks off of his skin. It takes a long time to get the flush off his pretty pale skin and a long time to cover all of that excess roundness.

After the massaging Steve is usually pretty hot and bothered (hot for it if he isn't out that is. Snoozing because food + warmth + Bucky's hands = one very sleepy Steve). And it's then that Bucky will help Steve roll over (the rolling is not particularly graceful... he's too fat for that, it's a little like a whale on land 😳 but that makes it all the more erotic)...

And Steve?

Steve on all-fours is just rolls on rolls on rolls. So fat that it's stacking up. There's no where for all of that fat to go.

His back has rolls. His love handles are really just a whole spare tire or two. His ass is monstrous, round and dimpled. His thighs have no space between them and instead jiggle and rub against each other unless he really spreads his legs WIDE. His double chin is so substantial that it doesn't even disappear when he peers over his shoulder at Bucky who's kneeling between his legs, opening him up to fuck or just slicking up and fucking some of those deep, thick rolls.

Steve used to get tired on all-fours, when he was between chubby and truly fat because he had to hold up all his own weight but now..? Now that he's truly MASSIVE Steve doesn't have to get tired because he's not holding himself up. His belly is so big that it pressed up tight to the mattress, almost making it so his hands and knees don't touch. His belly spreads out from his body at the sides too, squishing like your thighs when you sit down. 🥴

On all fours, Steve looks well and truly fat.

He looks swollen.

Engorged.

He's truly fucking huge and Bucky can't wait until he's bigger. Until not only is it difficult for him to walk around their apartment, his sides brushing both sides of the door frame as he walks through them (and Jesus, Joseph, and Mary- it sends a perverted shiver down Buckys spine every time, thinking about how he's almost too big to fit through doorways), his lungs strained from the effort of carrying all that fat, his joints complaining, but it's impossible instead.

Bucky wants him fat fat fat.

He wants him so big that he can't get out of bed and if he lays flat on the bed that he can't see over the mountain of his belly. Nothing visible but the tangible evidence of his appetite and pinned in place by his ravenous gluttony.

Bucky wants him bigger.

Swelling.

Growing.

Bucky wants him so well fed, so indulged, that all he can do is sit on his fat ass and get rounder, bigger, fatter. Filling his endless tummy- always stuffing his face. Making pleading eyes at Bucky so he'll feed him or rub his tummy, complaining about food being too far too reach with the former and his tummy being too full with the latter.

🥵