#I know exactly why I messed it up in the first place - I haven't watched the episodes in order since I did the spellbook

[dittomander]

ohh nnnnoooOOOOOOOO

oh my god i fucked it up

I got so caught up in the euphoria of fixing the desk problem that it completely slipped past me that I wrote a chapter with Gabe in it during a time where he ISN'T EVEN IN THE COUNTRY

OH MY GODDDDDDDDDD

[barleyo]

If ur in twd fandom I would loveee a Daryl dixon age gap fic!! Just him being disgusting over taking her first time? Just a major power imbalance between them. Dont do this if ur uncomfy ofc!! Stay safe bookie <33

Men Who Are Older.

Daryl Dixon X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: cried happy tears at this request, i LOVE daryl, he's so yummy. dirty old men foreverrrrr!!! i haven't seen all of twd and it's been a while since i've watched it, so this could be super ooc for all i know!! sorry it's short, i wanted to get all my ideas down quickly :3

Tags: LARGE age gap (18-19 and late 40-ish), power imbalance, coercion, p in v, loss of virginity, allusion to anal, creepy old man behavior (ugh i luv it)

Wordcount: 1.2k

You found yourself often visiting Daryl in his tent later in the night when you couldn't sleep. He tried to act like it annoyed him, like your presence was a nuisance to him, but it wasn't. You weren't the most irritating person he had to deal with day-to-day. You were polite enough for your age, you didn't mess around and snoop through his shit. You didn't judge him.

Most importantly, though, you were attractive. There wasn't much hot, young tail to chase around the camp. He liked to think you were his reward for living through hell every day. Nothing like eye candy at the end of the night to ease a hardened man's stress.

It was like most nights when you entered his tent, not bothering to announce yourself. Daryl looked up from the pocket knife he had been mindlessly flicking to eye you down. 

"Shouldn't you be in bed by now?" 

"Yeah, right," you said, taking a casual seat on his bedroll. "What're you doing?"

He clicked his tongue at you on his bed, but sighed and ignored it. "Nothing. Too damn late to do anythin' important."

"Want to chit-chat, then?" You rested your hands on your knees, hoping he would soothe your boredom.

"Do I wanna 'chit-chat'?" Daryl flicked his knife closed and tucked it in his back pocket. "If you wanna chat, why don't you go do it with someone else? You don't have friends your age?" 

"I used to." He didn't say anything, just flattened his mouth at your rebuttal. "We're friends though, aren't we?"

Crossing his arms, he let out a hum. "Whatever you want, kid. Sure. We're real pals."

You spoke about whatever came to your mind for the next however-many minutes with him. Mostly just you babbling on, but it didn't bother him. You could run off at your mouth all you wanted, gave him all the excuse to stare you down and look a little too closely at places he knew he shouldn't.

Eventually, you got on the topic of things you missed about life before. Things you wished you got to experience, things you were slowly starting to forget about.

"I didn't even get to properly lose my virginity before this shit took over," you complained, now laying on Daryl's bed like it was your own. "It really bites, man." 

His eyes widened a bit, arms falling to his legs from their crossed position. 

"Wait, what'd y'say?" 

"Huh? Oh, I didn't get to have sex with anyone before the outbreak," you repeated, not caring to turn to face him while you spoke. "Sometimes, I wonder if I'll die before I get any." 

So many things rushed through Daryl's head at that moment. A virgin? You? It wasn't exactly surprising, you weren't old enough for it to be a shocking thing to hear, but the thought really intrigued him. Made him wonder.

It gave him an idea, and lord knows dirty, old men have even dirtier ideas stewing in their minds.

"That bother you?" 

You finally turned your head over to look at him, eyes looking conflicted.

"I guess, a little. There are bigger things to worry about, but I feel like I'm missing out," you said while trying your best to sound nonchalant. "It's not much of a priority, under the circumstances, you know."

Oh, how wrong you were. It very much was a priority, an urgent one at that. 

"Never know. Could happen, if y'really wanted. Don't rule it out completely," he advised, wiping his face with the back of his palm. "Maybe some younger man might find his way here. Could be an opportunity." 

"Nah, I couldn't go for that. I don't wanna be inexperienced and have to deal with an equally inexperienced guy too. That'd be like hell," you joked.

"Sounds like you want an older man, then."

He called on every guardian angel he had in that moment, praying for you to take the bait. Just one chance, damn it, he wasn't asking for much.

"Yeah, guess so." You made eye contact with him for a brief second, before flitting your eyes around in embarrassment. "Listen, it's getting late, I should go." You pushed yourself up, ready to head back to your family.

Daryl stood from his seat and grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer to him.

"I don't mind," he said, dancing around the answer to the question you didn't yet ask. "I know my fair share."

"Those don't sound like sounds a virgin'd make," he teased. He loved how you sounded. Straight from a porno, just shameless cries and squeals. "You sure you ain't did this before?"

He watched the back of your head shake 'no' while his hand guided along the arch in your spine. Took you a while to learn to keep your head down and ass up, but damn it if you didn't put the knowledge to work quickly.

"Am I supposed to be dizzy?" you asked, voice muffled by the blankets under you.

Daryl chuckled softly, slamming your hips back on him. "Yeah, if the guy's doin' it right. Feel good?"

Your hands clenched the fabric you were laying on, digging into it roughly.

"I think? I—I dunno, 's just so much."

Being the man he was, Daryl took that as a challenge. He flipped you over on your back, cock still rocking into you. He sped up, letting his movements get sharper. 

"C'mon," he muttered gruffly, trying to urge you to place your legs on his shoulders, "you gonna be this much of a problem for the next guy?"

You gave your weak legs a kick, wrapping them around his neck so the shaking wouldn't roll them off his shoulders. 

"No, no," you whined, groping your tits to keep your hands busy, "don't want another guy. He won't be as good as you, Dar." 

How the hell could a few little words get him ramped up even more? He knew you probably didn't mean it, horny girls said whatever their pussies wanted them to say, but the way he fucked you made you believe your own words.

"Yeah? I ruined ya for other guys already?" 

The stark difference between his now softer tone and rougher thrusts confused your brain in the best ways possible. You couldn't focus on just one aspect of him: Daryl was everywhere. In your brain, in your heart, in the very blood flowing through your veins— and, of course, inside of you. 

It was too much, all of it. 

Your walls clamped tightly over him, sucking him in like a vacuum. The clenching of your walls over his dick sent him over the edge, barely leaving him enough time to pull out. He bit the back of his hand, stifling a moan while he jerked himself the rest of the way off, coating your tired pussy with his cum. 

"You didn't cum inside, did you?" You sat up quickly, scooting back a bit. 

Daryl let out a huff. "I'm not an amateur, I know how to pull out."

"Just checking," you mumbled, lying back down on his bedroll, head nuzzling into the pillow.

You felt his dick push up against your ass, prodding between your cheeks.

"I could show you a way that'll make sure no idiot douchebags get ya knocked up," he offered, head desperately tapping against your asshole, "if you want."

A soft sigh came from your chest as you pushed your ass back on him.

"You're an eager teacher, y'know."

[lymtw]

A continuation of You'll Be Waiting A While

Description: It doesn't matter that you're in love with Toji's son. He can still take care of you in ways that you can only dream Megumi will ever be able to.

(Part one does not need to be read to read on)

"Ugh, I can't see," you reach for the blindfold that is veiled snuggly over your eyes, only to receive a less than soft smack on the back of your hand, ending any attempt to remove it.

"Quit messing with it," Toji's deep voice intrudes.

"Why do you want me to wear this? I can't see your stupid face." You sigh, aiming your face to the ceiling in frustration.

"You can't see me, so follow the sound of my voice, kid. Come on, you're smarter than that." Toji lays on his stomach beside you, watching the way you idly move your head in an attempt to see through the blindfold. He likes the way you look kind of scared and lost.

"I miss Megumi," you mumble, licking your lips afterward. "Just wanted to see his handsome face one last time before the world went dark," you say, dramatically, as if you didn't study with him just yesterday.

Toji snickers, his hand coming up to rest on your stomach. "You really can't go a day without talking about my kid, huh? You know, each time we've met up, you've mentioned him."

You smile, the gesture progressing to a chuckle. Something about it makes Toji's dick twitch. "You jealous, Mr. Fushiguro?"

"Pfft, what of? The kid's got the personality of a wet towel."

"Yeah, I wonder who he got that from..." Your lips curl into a grin. You enjoy the playful banter that comes with being around Toji.

"Whatever you say." He chuckles. His hand slowly starts moving up towards your chest, going under the cup of your bra to palm at your breast.

"So, what's with the getup? You don't want to see my eyes?" You grin, slyly, anticipating his answer. "You wanna picture someone else, don't you?" You ask, enthusiastically.

"Calm down, brat, it's for you." He scoots over until he's laying between your legs and kisses just below your stomach, where the elastic band of your shorts roll down. "Want you to fantasize for a bit."

"About who?" You say, patting around in search of Toji's head.

He grabs your wrist, placing your hand on top of his head. "Anybody." He releases your hand, and rolls your shorts down, allowing you to kick them off once they meet your ankles. "Just don't be surprised when you actually get in bed with them and it's not as good as you imagined. It's my only warning," he murmurs, massaging circles into your hip with his thumb.

It goes quiet for a little, only the sound of your quiet breaths and gasps as he touches you like no one before him. He's not meticulous at all with the places he touches you because he knows that your senses are heightened, and any touch will manage to overwhelm you.

Toji hates to admit that the preference he has to you over other women has to do with your age. You're just so bright and enthusiastic over everything, open to anything because you haven't roamed the earth as long as he has. Yeah, you're not a Mary, but after every session with Toji, it seems like he was the first to deflower you. In your defense, you don't go sleeping around with the first man to call you 'pretty girl'. Strangely, that's exactly how Mr. Fushiguro got you...

"T-Toji?" You call, gasping sharply at the feeling of his tongue lapping between your thighs. You pull lightly at his hair, a response that doesn't faze him.

"Mm?" He hums in response, his mouth very much busy between your thighs, teasing your panty-clad cunt with his warm tongue.

"Do you do the same?" You ask, squirming beneath his touch.

"Gotta give me more, sweetheart. Do the same in what aspect?" He looks up at you, his forearms resting on your thighs.

"Do you close your eyes to fantasize about other women while you fuck me?"

He laughs. It's a strange question given how many times you've expressed disinterest in his private life, but he sees no need to tread around you. You're not his girlfriend. He hasn't cuffed you, nor you him.

"Rarely. It never lasts longer than a few seconds when I do." His lips press against your inner thigh, creating a trail of kisses until he reaches the crease between your pelvis and thigh.

"Why is that?" You ask, running your hand through his locks.

He pauses again. "Is this doing anything for you? Is it getting you off, asking me this?" You can hear the teasing lilt in his tone. "It's like you're trying to get to know me."

"Not really. Just wanna empathize with you, sir." You pull your hand away from his head and allow it to roam along with your other hand over your stomach, gradually raising them towards your chest. He likes the feeling of you pulling his hair when he eats you out so he brings one of your hands back to his head before he continues playing with your panties.

"You're a pretty girl," Toji murmurs, planting kisses on your clothed slit as he massages your thighs with his palms. "There's no need to think about someone else while I fuck you. You're enough of a visual," he assures. Maybe returning the question to you would be crossing the line, but whatever you and Toji do when nobody else is home is way past the line, anyway. "And you?"

"Gotta give me more than that, Mr. Fushiguro," you respond. Your sassiness lures a grin onto Toji's face. He loves that you can take what he dishes out and you can also return it in your own special way.

"Alright, then. Who runs through your mind when we fuck?"

Your lips curl upwards before you let out a bubbly giggle. You don't even have to say anything for Toji to take the hint.

"Don't," he says, in a deadpan tone.

"Don't what?" you ask, your lips twitching with more stifled laughter.

"You know what. Don't play dumb with me, little girl." He bites your thigh as punishment, which lures out a squeal from you.

"Hey, you didn't even let me answer. You just said 'don't', like you were disciplining a dog instead of talking to me."

"So answer," he says. You can hear the smirk in his tone, something that brings an unnecessary load of awareness to what is going on. You lost the timidness towards Toji long ago—the moment you started addressing each other by first names, to be exact, but his voice was really starting to bring back some of those nerves you felt at the start.

"Who do you fantasize about when I touch you?" As if he wants you to say him, he starts playing with you again, thumbing at your slit through your panties. He watches you from between your legs, adding more marks to your thighs as he awaits your unformed response. He can see the way your chest rises and falls with deeper breaths. Your hand goes up towards your face, aiming for the velvety texture that veils your eyes. You want to see him as he touches you, but that thought is swept away when you feel another dash of pain. Toji pinched your outer thigh, which made your body jolt at the sudden sting. It hurt, but it put a halt to your hand's movement.

"What did I tell you about the blindfold, huh?" He rubs the slightly reddened area on your leg with his warm palm.

"Don't... touch it," you respond, your nose slightly scrunched in pain.

"So, don't touch it. What do you need to see, right now? 'Cause I promise there's not much for you to look at here."

"Yeah, sorry. I'll leave it alone." Would he understand if you told him you wanted to see his face? It's not romantic at all. At least that's what you think.

"Good girl. Now, answer the question." He pulls down your panties, having lost the patience to continue teasing you through the spit dampened garment. "Who do you think about when I fuck you?" He asks, again, before running his tongue through your folds. You're as sweet as the sound of your moans.

"N-No one." A breathy moan is ripped from your throat at the feeling of the tip of his tongue focusing on your clit. He lets out a breath before latching his lips onto it, sucking while his middle and index fingers tease your already drooling hole. With a wet pop of his lips, he releases your needy bundle of nerves and looks up, just in time to catch the way your mouth gapes to release the softest moans and how your free hand paws at your chest. It's definitely a sight to behold.

"You're telling me you start off with static in your head and that I'm not the one who brings it on?"

"Yup." You giggle, sweetly, at the tsk that comes from Toji. "I'm joking. I guess..." you start, your tone making it sound like it's a burden to admit what you're about to say. "...my answer would be the same as yours."

"Which is?" He hums, diving right back in to your cunt. The sight of your drooling arousal makes him feel confident that you can handle one of his fingers. He times it perfectly, too. Just as you begin to answer, he starts easing the digit in, the act making you abruptly stop talking. He's in a trance, watching in complete awe as his finger disappears into you. "You were saying, doll face?"

"F-Fuck you," you say, through a broken moan.

"Oh, I plan to, pretty. I'm just getting you all nice and ready for me." He nearly groans at the sight of your slick clinging to his finger, the glossiness further amounting as he glides the digit in and out of you, smoothly. "Shit... look at that. Oh, wait. You can't."

"You're not..." you whimper, feeling the curl of his finger, deep within your walls. "You're... not funny."

"Damn, you're really struggling with just a finger today, huh? Has it been that long?" He smirks, knowing it's only been a few days.

"I can stay away for longer." You laugh at the brief pause in his movement. "Much longer."

"And you say i'm not funny," he says, low, as he leans down to coat his tongue with more of your taste. "You're not funny."

"Fuck, Toji..." you moan, at the low vibration of him humming around your clit.

"Mmm... love it when you say my name like that. None of that 'Mr. Fushiguro' bullshit, like when you acknowledge me after showing up here with my kid."

"M-Makes you feel as old as you are, huh?" You laugh, breathily.

"As if you wanting to jump my old man bones doesn't heal that jab to my ego, silly girl. Now, be a doll and lay still for me, yeah?" He says, taking his own jab at you and your composure. He gives you one more good curl of his finger before pulling it out.

"Toji..." you whine, frustrated by the vacancy in your cunt and loss of stimulation.

"Oh, quit fussing. This isn't just for you," he chides, bringing the digit up to his mouth and sucking it clean of your nectar. "God... I gotta hand it to you, doll. You're the sweetest."

"The sweetest?" You repeat, obliviously, waiting for him to elaborate.

"You can't be serious. You don't really think i'm talking about your attitude when my face is buried between your thighs, do you?"

"Who knows? Maybe i'm growing on you." You smirk, knowing he probably has the most perplexed look on his face.

"Heh, that's cute," he says, eyeing the strings of arousal that connect your sticky folds as he spreads them with his fingers. It wasn't a highly unlikely possibility. He wasn't seeing anyone, and you devoured each other often enough for his sexual needs to be satisfied by you alone. He can't lie and say he doesn't look forward to your illicit meetings. Those bright eyes of yours express so much, even when his view of them blurs with his hastiness as he pulls you into the house and drags you to his room. What he can admit is that this little dynamic you and him have built is tragic. You want his son, and based on the very brief and misleading conversation they had about you, Megumi wants you, too. Even so, he doesn't regret any of the things that have gone on between you two, and clearly he doesn't feel bad enough to stop seeing you.

You're falling apart on two of his fingers, now. Your chest heaves as he collects more and more of your slick with every plunge of his fingers into your walls. "Fuck, doll," he hums, amazed by the way your juices drool out when he drags his fingers out even slightly.

"T-Toji, fuck. Fuck..." you whimper, tugging harder on his hair. Toji knows you're about to cum. He can see the quiver in your stomach, and he can hear the way your breaths double, so he pulls out the soaked digits and allows his mouth to take over.

His tongue quickly catches onto the pace necessary to bring you over the edge. The muscle laps rapidly through your slit, luring more of those pretty sounds from you until they come out sharp and flow nonstop. When you cum, your cries are airy and your voice occasionally breaks from the frequency. Toji groans at the rush of your essence on his tongue and continues eating you out to his heart's content as you ride out the pleasure. He looks up to see your head pushed back into the pillow, your jaw hanging as moans continue to spill from your chewed up lips. You look like hell in all of the best ways. He loves the way your hips lift before rolling against the mattress, like you're trying to grind against his face.

You look and sound adorable when you ask him to stop. Your trembling thighs clamp around his head, and you're letting out the smallest whimpers. His tongue runs through you one last time to coat it with your taste before he lets up on the borderline overstimulation. "There, there. I'm done." He pats your cunt three times, relishing in the small whines and the twitching and jerking of your legs when his fingers make contact with your over sensitive clit.

"I almost kicked you," you say, through a laugh. Your breathing still isn't entirely steadied, but within seconds of hearing you talk again, Toji's hands are on you.

"Wouldn't be the first time. I thought you knew that I can handle your kicking, by now," he says, feeling up your thighs, while pressing kisses to your hips. You wish you could see him.

"That doesn't mean I want to kick you."

He laughs. "I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me. Looks like i'm growing on you, too, huh?"

"Stop..." you groan.

"You really are the sweetest altogether, aren't you?" He teases on when he spots the blush flourishing on your cheeks.

"You don't actually mean that, so the words sound annoying coming from you."

"Aw, does that hurt? Well, stop overthinking it, 'cause no one said anything about me not meaning what I said." He kisses his way up your body until he's face to face with you. "You're a nice..." He kisses your neck, sucking yet another mark onto your sensitive skin. "... and very sweet girl." His tongue comes out to lick the side of your neck, the gesture transitioning to a kiss beneath your ear. He cracks a grin at the sound of you gasping. "Oh? You never told me you got a thing for being praised."

"Everyone likes being told nice things," you respond.

"Don't redirect this. I'm talking about you," he murmurs into your jaw. "You like when I call you a good girl and tell you that you're perfect for my cock?"

You sigh, not able to stand behind your denial when you can feel yourself getting wetter with every word he says.

"If only you could see the way you're blushing, right now." He chuckles when you tilt your head, as if you're debating on whether you should turn away from him or not. "It's all good, pretty girl. There's no room for judgement between us." His hands go beneath your back and reach for the clasps of your bra. He swiftly unclips them and pulls the straps down your arms, smoothly removing the garment. It's tossed aside and forgotten about when he sees your bare chest. He wastes no time in taking one of your breasts into his hand, rolling the bud between his fingers while the other one gets sucked and mouthed on.

You run your fingers through his hair, soft moans and airy sighs leaving you as he licks and sucks on your nipples. You gasp when you feel the unmistakable sensation of him sucking marks onto your chest. You can feel him grinding against you, groans that he doesn't even bother trying to hide, vibrating against your skin. "You wet enough to take me?" He hums, concealing his own desire to be inside you.

"Y-Yeah, I think so."

He finishes off your other breast, latching onto and covering the sensitive bud with spit as he sucks on it. He releases the hardened peak and sits back to work his boxers off. He hisses as his painfully hard, leaking cock springs out and taps against his abdomen a couple times. "It'll be as good as the times before," he utters, spreading the beads of precum over his length to act as more lubricant. "Just relax for me, sweetheart."

Those were his final words before he started gliding his blunt tip between your folds. The contact made your heart beat a little faster, mainly because normally, you would be faced away from him. You're still wearing the blindfold so you can't see him, anyway, but this was off.

He taps your clit a couple times with the tip, smirking at the way you squirm. "What did I just say?"

"R-Relax? I'm relaxed. Just like always."

"Mhm," he hums, spotting the way your fists clench around his sheets. He disregards your sudden awkwardness and begins working his throbbing length into you. "Fuck, doll..." he groans, going really slow for his own sake. "How is it that you're still so tight, even after all the times i've gotten into your guts?" It's a rhetorical question, one that he knows that even if it wasn't, you wouldn't be able to answer. The stretch was as intense as ever, a sensation that you needed a quiet second to yourself for.

Soon enough, his cock is completely buried inside you. "Holy shit." He sighs, and smoothly rides his hands over your waist. He watches your chest rise and fall steadily, quiet labored breaths leaving you as you adjust to him. On the outside it seems like you're taking this better than he is, but on the inside, you're all over the place. You're way too focused on how his fingers, his palms—his hands— dig into your sides when he starts thrusting. You're all too aware of his skin against yours and his body heat and the sounds he makes.

"You like that? This is what you come back for, huh?" He grunts, picking up the pace of his thrusts when he notices your chest losing its calm and collected rhythm. He loves how small you appear in comparison to him and his hands and that all of you is so reactive to him. Despite him not being able to see those expressive eyes of yours, your mouth does plenty to communicate how you feel. From the weightless panting released from your quivering lips and the melodic sound of your moans, to the manner in which you verbally confess to the crime of your recurring return to him.

"Mhm... love how you fuck me, Toji," you babble, twisting the sheets in your hands. They're already messed up and splayed in every direction, so you have the liberty to pull them around.

"Yeah? Nobody satisfies you the same way, huh?"

You shake your head. "Mm-mm, nope."

He leans forward, and plants his forearms beside your head. You can feel his body pressed against yours as he picks up his pace again with this new position. "You know why you're not satisfied by anyone else?" He mutters into your ear. He doesn't even wait for you to respond. "It's 'cause you're a greedy girl, and they can't keep up because you need someone who is just as greedy. Maybe even more." He dons the most wicked smirk, like he's proud of himself for being the one who set the bar so high and ruined you for the rest of them.

He had to see the defeated look on your face. It's got to be priceless. He pulled the blindfold off, and was immediately met with your shut eyes and a small crease between your brows at the sudden brightness behind your eyelids. You didn't expect to be so turned on when you finally opened your eyes. You were met with bright green eyes staring hungrily at you. You looked far from defeated, and he looked like he wasn't going to let you alive.

"What?" You, emptily, question the sudden lack of darkness.

"What?" He returns, groaning at the feeling of your cunt fluttering around him.

You just shake your head and try to stop getting in your head about the situation. Something about it seemed intimate. Very much so with how he wouldn't break eye contact with you as he continued to rail you. Those eyes conveyed desire that was amplified by the pace of his hips and the vulgar sounds that radiated from the moment.

Toji couldn't stop thinking about what was going on. This isn't how it normally went. Normally, there was a lot more dirty talk and ass slapping and marking, but this wasn't that, at all. Did it become strange the minute he decided to keep you in this position? Was he in the wrong for furthering the damage by uncovering your eyes so he could look into them? He had no regrets about what you and him got up to when left alone together, but maybe this was going past the makeshift line designated for people who fuck outside of relationships.

Regardless of those mind plaguing thoughts, he couldn't stop. It was unbelievably good. His eye contact was unwavering, and you looked right back at him. Whether the twinkling in your eyes was on brought on by him or you were just getting teary eyed from how close you were to your climax, didn't matter. He had only done it in this position with you once before, and it was a game. He just wanted to get you back in his bed and you just wanted your bra back.

This was not that.

You had the prettiest look on your face and the sweetest voice as you told him you were about to cum. Normally, he would be an asshole about it and kill your orgasm, but this time it would be at his expense as well, because he was right there with you.

His heart was racing and he felt so, so foolish, but none of it stopped him from leaning down to kiss you. He swallowed your moans and whimpers, and fed you his share of pleasured sounds through the intensity. You don't know what compelled you to pull him in closer, but in the mix of all the heavy breathing and the lewdness and messiness of your combined releases, you found yourself cupping his jaw and kissing him back. He slowed down the movement of his hips until they were steady against yours, but the kissing went on. You were stealing each other's oxygen, going back in for more every time it seemed like the kiss was going to break. With one last brush of your lips, the moment came to a standstill. Neither of you knew what to do or say as you just breathlessly stared at each other with slightly reddened lips and cheeks.

"Sorry," you both say at the same time, which made you chuckle. The sound made some of the tension disappear, which allowed Toji to breathe a little and grin at the way you laughed at the sound of your layered voices. Your hands haven't moved away from his jaw, and he hasn't leaned back to where he started.

Your laughter stopped and once again it went silent, save for the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. He doesn't know what's the matter with him, but within seconds of resolving the tension, his lips are back on yours again. Softer and slower, but equally as good as the first time around. You're the devil for not pushing him off of you and being the voice of reason in this situation. You could be yelling at him, telling him that it's wrong and reminding him that you're in love with Megumi, but no, that's not what you're doing. You're keeping him close with your fingers threaded through his hair and your other hand is on his shoulder blade, and you're kissing him back.

He's moving his hips again, rolling them languidly into yours and eliciting the quietest moans from you until the kissing is one sided.

"T-Toji, Toji- fuck, fuck..." Your nails dig into his shoulder blade, bright red strikes decorating the surface of the top right half of his back.

He groans, his warm breath fanning over your chin as he trails his kisses lower and lower down your face, until he reaches the column of your neck. "Yeah? Gonna cum, already? Gonna make a mess on me, again?"

All you can do is give him a small nod and a needy hum in confirmation, before he's picking up the pace and rocking into you with more force behind his thrusts. He's prodding at that sensitive spot within you with so much precision that your toes are curling and you're positive you've torn the skin on his back from how much you've clawed at it.

"F-Fuck, fuck... come on," he grunts. "You're gonna be a good girl and cum for me, right?"

"Mhm, y-yes! Yes, Toji!"

Within a couple more thrusts, you're trembling as you gush all over his cock, again, arching off the bed as the pleasure courses through every sinew of your being. "Yeah, give it to me, sweetheart," he groans, voice somewhat strained as your cunt violently spasms around him, effectively working to lure another load out of him. His hands go to your hips, pulling them in time to meet his thrusts. You can see the sweat beading on his forehead and his temples, the pinch in his brow as he teeters closer and closer until his cum spurts into you. "Shit..." he pants, as he spills everything inside. "Oh fuck."

He released the iron grip he had on your hips and pulled out of you. He sat back and watched as your chest inflated and deflated through your heavy breathing as he himself also worked to level out his own breathing. You were glowing, a light sheen of sweat layered over your chest and neck and forehead. You were downright ethereal in his eyes and he said this to you. It was coded, but he said it.

"God, you're a mess." He chuckles, breathily, as he stares at his cum oozing out of you. He runs two fingers between your slit and collects enough to show you how it drips down his fingers and onto his knuckles.

"That's mostly your mess," you say, chuckling at the look of disbelief on his face.

"I think it's a fifty-fifty," he counters.

"Mhm, whatever you say." You stretch your arms above your head, getting a good stretch in for your back at that same time. You sit up and start looking for your scattered clothes.

"Megumi won't be home until tomorrow," Toji says, watching as you sit on the edge of the bed and start picking up your clothes. This is how your time together always ended.

"Yeah, he texted me about it yesterday. I figured i'd go home and take a bath since i'm such a mess." You grin at the annoyed click of his tongue.

"I've got a bathtub and all the essentials for a bath."

"That's nice. You should put them to use, you're looking pretty messy yourself."

He's trying to get you to stay longer. Maybe you aren't thinking about those kisses, but he can't get them out of his head, regardless of how juvenile it may seem for a man of his age.

"You don't have to go if you don't want to," he tries, again, watching as you search for one last garment—your bra. It's on the opposite side of the bed where Toji tossed it aside earlier.

"I don't wanna overstay my welcome. Where the hell is..." you trail off, frustratedly rummaging around through places you've already searched for your forgotten bra.

Your focus is redirected when you feel him tracing your spine, from the bottom to the top. "Do it. Overstay your welcome."

You smirk when his hand slides its way up from your shoulder, to your neck, before caressing your cheek. "Don't tell me you're feeling lonely, Toji."

He brushes his knuckles over your cheek, as if the gesture is a method of softening you up. Luckily for him, it was working.

"I'll keep you fed and clean."

You snicker and gently push his hand away. "Once again, you're talking to me like i'm some dog."

"You know that's not how I meant it. Don't twist my intentions, brat."

"Well, is it so hard to say, 'I'll buy you dinner' and 'You can wash up here'?" You smile at him, showing that there is no bite to your words.

He takes in the sweetness of your smile and drops the edge to his words. "I'll buy you dinner and you can wash up here."

You grin and playfully pat his chest, before standing and wrapping yourself up in the sheets so that you can migrate to the bathroom with more modesty. "Yeah, I got it the first time," you say, and Toji swears you'll be the death of him with these little jokes of yours. You drop the sheets when your body gets between the door frame and the door. You peek your head out and watch as Toji organizes your clothes for when you get out. "Hey, uh... do you mind helping me find my bra? It's gone missing. Again."

[shinidamachu]

Sid, why do you think people think Kagome is “so annoying” and “whiny?” How exactly did she earn this reputation among her (rather dumb) haters.

The world is not kind to 15 years old girls, and what is Kagome, if not the perfect representation of one?

People forgot they can dislike a character just because and then move on. They'd rather grasp at straws to try and justify themselves, that way they can pretend they're being rational about the constant hate they're spreading when, truthfully, they're just being miserable.

Kagome specifically is in even greater disadvantage because her critics are, mostly, people who haven't read the source material and are instead basing their takes on a biased adaptation – which they probably watched ages before developping any critical skills – or people who see her as a threat to their ship and therefore are already prone to hate her.

The first group won't ever bother going out of their way to try and get a better grasp of her character by reading a 558 chapters long manga and the second group won't change their minds either way.

That's why they call her out for using the beads of subjugation even if: it wasn't her idea in the first place, it served to balance her relationship with Inuyasha at the beginning – since he was powerful and violent while she wasn't –, the rosary became a symbol of their bond, it saved Inuyasha a couple of times and he was always more annoyed than hurt by it, not to mention Sunrise blowing it out of proportion compared to the manga.

You never see Inuyasha getting bashed for hitting Shippo every other episode or Sango getting any heat for constantly slapping Miroku, because funnily enough people seem to understand it was just dumb, outdated, slapstick comedy, a courtesy they refuse to extend to Kagome.

That's also the reason they call her “annoying” and “whiny”: Kagome’s most important lesson was that it's okay to have feelings, so naturally they twisted that into a bad thing in order to keep hating on her. It's not about how her character was written, it's about people using of bad faith and deliberately mischaracterizing Kagome to pass their internalized misogyny as valid criticism.

I know part of the issue is that audiences nowadays are under the impression that for a female character to be strong, she can't cry or be feminine, but you don't see anyone hating on Sango even though she does cry and she can be as feminine as Kagome depending on the circunstances and on her mood.

The truth is that Kagome is playing a game she can never win, because the refs have decided they want her to lose before the match even starts.

If she stands up and sets boundaries for herself, she's annoying. If she doesn't, she's a doormat. If she feels jealousy, she's a bitch. If she shows kindness, she's boring. If she fights, she's overpowered. If she doesn't, she's useless. If any other character cries, it's heartbreaking. If she cries, she's whiny.

If she goes back to her own world, she's selfish. If she leaves that world behind to live the life she wants for herself, she's a stupid girl who left her family for a boy. If she does something grand, that's only because she's someone else's reincarnation. If she messes something up, the fault is hers and hers alone. She is, somehow, simultaneously a Mary Sue and a toxic abuser.

I've personally seen people slut shaming her because she got hitted on by Koga. I've personally seen people call her a "pick me" girl. Kagome. A pick me girl. Kagome.

And none of this is fair, because she is the kind of character who does her best to see the good in others, to understand the reasons why they act the way they do and to offer them some grace, but she gets very little of that in return, be it in canon, be it in fandom.

They always hold her up to such an impossible standard, but they completely forget to ask themselves: would the characters I stan be able to match the expectations I set for Kagome? Scratch that: would the characters I stan even be able to deal with things the way Kagome managed to do? Would I? The answer is most likely no, so how about cutting her a slack?

You ask me how did she earn this reputation among her rather dumb haters, my answer is: she didn't. They're just incapable of understanding that if a particular nuanced, well written, female character is not their cup of tea, they can simply ignore her and focus their attention on the characters they do like instead of spreading their baseless, misogynistic takes on the internet.

[creampuffqueen]

I wanna hear more avatar headcanons! From the novels or just the avatars themselves! I loved reading your kavik and yangchen hcs 🥹🫶🏻

ahhh thank you!! i'm glad you like my random thoughts lol 🫶

here are a few more random thoughts i've been having that i just haven't quite made into posts yet (mostly yangvik because i love them but some other avatars as well):

yangchen is actually a terrible cook 💀 she's basically always had people taking care of her so she never really needed to learn! she can make a good cup of tea and that's about it. she regularly burns rice. she's also just generally bad at remembering to feed herself. kavik, who is a decent cook, is largely the only reason she remembers to eat

as for the other known avatars: kyoshi is by FAR the best cook. she's genuinely good at it. aang is a very close second. roku, kuruk, and wan are all average at it. korra has been banned from every kitchen in republic city

yangchen and kavik both strike me as people who really enjoy physical touch. they both really enjoy cuddling with each other, even before their relationship turns more romantic. acts of service is also a major love language for them

i also feel very strongly that they never used typical labels for their relationship. they usually referred to each other as their 'partner', occasionally 'lover', but most often just continued to use 'companion'. these vague labels frustrate scholars to no end, and today in the atla universe nobody can agree on the nature of their relationship. which is exactly how they wanted it lol, they were extremely private about their relationship

yangchen does have the iconic crooked smile that all the avatars share, but it only comes out when she's well and truly happy about something

her laugh is the same way. she has a very convincing fake laugh, as her real laugh is kind of 'ugly'. it's some kind of snorting, wheezing sound that kind of sounds like she's dying but is also absolutely adorable. yangchen hates it. kavik adores it, and will make an absolute fool of himself trying to hear it

yangchen is a massive, merciless flirt and takes great pleasure in seeing just how red she can make kavik's face turn. but on the rare occasion kavik gets enough confidence to flirt back, she turns into a total mess

pik and pak's favorite place to sleep is right on top of kavik's face

because of how hard she works herself, yangchen often falls asleep in the strangest places. if she's actually tired, she can fall asleep literally anywhere. it's simultaneously a superpower and a massive annoyance

a somewhat sad/bittersweet headcanon i have is that yangchen dies first. i've seen a lot of people saying that she lives to 150 but i can't find a source for that anywhere so i'm choosing to ignore it. yangchen has already watched too many loved ones die, she doesn't need to see kavik die before her as well. they both live very long lives, but kavik outlives her by a few years. after yangchen's death, he returns home to the northern water tribe

at one point, only a few months before his death, he is out for a walk when a little toddler wanders up to him all alone. he chats with him for a few minutes until the boy's parents find them and thank him for watching over their son. 'kuruk, what have we told you about wandering off like that?' the mother asks. the toddler waves goodbye, and kavik walks home feeling oddly contented. he never meets the boy again, and he dies well before kuruk is revealed as the avatar, but he feels a sense of peace from the interaction, knowing deep down that yangchen has made it safely back into the material world

when kavik dies, he wills his bone necklace to kuruk's family. they don't understand why until kuruk's sixteenth birthday. (SERIOUSLY THEIR NECKLACES LOOK ALMOST IDENTICAL ITS WILD)

that's all the thoughts i can scrape up off the top of my head, but i'm just generally thinking about avatar characters All The Time lmao. thank you for asking!!!

[midnightblues444]

Jaded |

situationship!various x fem!reader

Content warnings: smut and toxic relationship

A/n: Was listening to jaded by drake and thought of this, also been way too busy lately but dont worry things are cominggg

"I miss u"

He stares at the notification intently, after a while he can feel his heart beating steadily again. You haven't spoken in a month or so, mostly because of you, so instead of an apology you decide to text him this shit

Typical

Your relationship was- or is a complicated thing to explain.

It began with a mutual agreement that neither of you are " looking for a relationship at this point" and how you both "just want to keep it casual". To be honest he can't really label what exactly you agreed to, but he just went with it cause the sex is really good.

Usually he's a logical person by nature, never straying from his "no strings attached" rules, he finally crumbled after meeting his match, shreds of logic slipping between those prettily manicured fingers of yours.

You changed everything for him, from how he thought to how he acts. From the first time you fucked, there was something compelling him not to ghost you like the other girls, he was so drawn you, he became whipped.

Your situationship was fun at first, he enjoyed reaping all the rewards of low commitment by having chemistry like no other with you.

That was before jealousy crept in, along with the sudden question of "what are we". That's when the arguments really began. Angry sex, petty acts to make the other jealous, what you had became a mess that you said "you need a break from".

And now youre saying; you miss him

Confusing, that's what this is. He doesn't understand you, he doesn't understand who he is with you, he doesn't understand why he's pulling on his shoes and slipping a condom into his jeans.

When he finds himself at your doorstep he simply knocks, he didnt bother texting back because he knows you well enough. Opening the door, you're half surprised, taking merely a second to process the fact that he was here announced, allowing him in without hesitation.

You hug him, tight. Whispering I missed yous into his chest, he cant help but hug you back wrapping you in his big arms, he missed you too after all. The conversation is a brief breakdown figuring out if you need to be angry at eachother or not. A type of small talk where you both passively check loyalty during your "break" .

He asks you how you've been and hat you been up to fighting the urge to ask who've you been up to, concluding that he doesn't want to fight about it.

He kisses you instead, hot and desperate, big hands tracing the curves of your body. Your hands are in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer, you get lost in the familiarity of it all the heat between you getting hotter. He knows your apartment well, never needing to break the kiss while guiding you to the room.

You don't make it all the way to the bed, finding refuge on your dresser. "God I missed you " he says breathless once your shirts gone, pulling down your shorts.

Such a gentlemen, doing all the work for you,

In one motion his shirt is gone, and hes unbuttoned his pants. His focus is directed at your neck, and tits. Bruises and bites begin to decorate your skin. Placing a condom wrapper between his teeth, he starts to release himself from his boxers.

"Need some help there sweets?" you ask sweetly, mischief stretching across your face. He nods, and let's you take the condom out. Touching him teasingly before slipping it on his length,

"Fuck" he whispers watching intently, as you align him with your entrance, slowly sliding in.

You hum at the sensation, deciding to place your hands on his shoulders. Its a gentle harshness he grips your hips with, firmly pulling you close as he begins rythmically rolling into your spot.

His pace harsh as he breathlessly groans into the crook of your neck, the sound of skin clapping fills the room along with your sinful whimpers and his deep groans

Theres no place he'd rather be than inside you is all he thinks

DABI, Hawks, Aizawa, Rindou, Hanma, RAN, Baji, Draken, Suna, Atsumu, Geto, Gojo, sakuna, TOJI , Eren

[nappingnai]

sweet disaster!

synopsis; you attempt to bake for your boyfriend, but it doesnt exactly go as planned..

notes - gn!reader x satoru gojo :) "hun" used as a pet name once. i am genuinely SO ANXIOUS to post this. if u like it pls reblog or comment or whatever.. if u dont like it just come to my house and shoot me tbh

you had always known your boyfriend liked sweet things. the first time you had met satoru, he was munching on some sort of candy. his friends, students, everyone knew. so.. you wanted to try and be a good partner; attempting to bake something for him.

lord now knows you're terrible at baking, and you won't try again.

because it's your fourth try at baking cookies for him, and so far you've failed by forgetting the flour, not placing them further away on the pan causing them to stick together, burning them- you've done everything you could to fuck up these cookies.

you could just watch a tutorial. easy enough, right? well you've watched the same video over and over again, having the urge to punch your phone at the random males voice instructing you for what feels like the tenth time. you could call megumi? he could help. maybe.

a click at the door makes you freeze at the garbage can, having just thrown out your fourth- fifth batch of cookies? you've lost count. you hurriedly shut the garbage, trying to clean up the kitchen and yourself the most you can in only a few seconds, which isn't a lot, but why not try?

satoru shuffles in, looking around a bit for you, hearing you moving around and clinking stuff in the kitchen. "..hun, what're you doing?" he asks, walking over to the kitchen and staring you down as you stand next to the garbage, a complete mess, probably. you haven't had time to look at yourself, just an assumption from the way he's staring down at you and obviously trying not to laugh.

"..nothing at all!" you say, looking over at your boyfriend with a bubbly smile on your face to attempt to distract him from whatever you just threw out, and the burning smell coursing around the house. "you sure?" he questions, tilting his head a bit to the side. you nod, looking into his eyes- well, blindfold- with that same smile on your face. satoru giggles a bit at you, walking over to you.

"two questions. one, why does it smell like a house fire in here? and two, why are you trying so desperately to hide the trash?" he asks, looking down at you. you look up at him. "tried to bake for you, obviously didn't go as planned," you sigh. "stupid dude who's tutorial i was watching didn't make any sense." satoru lets out a small laugh, smiling down at you with that cheeky grin of his.

"you don't gotta bake me anything, you're enough yourself. plus, i don't want you burning down the house.." he mumbles, making you softly punch his arm. "in all seriousness tho, you could've called megumi. he's a pretty good baker, somewhat good of a cook. if you wanna learn how to bake, give him a call."

you nod, still smiling up at him. he leans down and gives you a small peck on the lips, leaning back up to stare back down at you. "please don't try baking again without someone else. it smelled like there was a fire, i thought you burned the house down. smelled like it, at least." satoru says, still looking down at you. you pout up at him, flicking his forehead.

made by myguumi; please dont alter my work or try and post as your own. reblogs are appreciated, but claiming as your own is not.

@venzlenes

[hiemaldesirae]

Thorn here:

Oh...ohhh!! Vox arrives in hell but instead of legs he just has a Shark's tail! He has a TV head and a Shark's tail and Alastor is instantly smitten.

He gathers this new sinner up, protectively taking him to his house/radio tower and setting up aquarium and putting Vox in it, eyes warm.

Vox isn't amused. Why is this weird stag demon nuzzling him and calling him his muse? Vox is no one's anything!

Alastor adores how his muse attempts to shock him! (He has to buy shock resistant glass and he learns Vox does much better in salt water then fresh-(he brutally killed the Imps at the pet store that told him sharks would do fine in fresh water. His poor mate's gills were messed up for days!)) He is a bit irritated on how His beloved muse prefers only fish (fish sinners, but what his precious mate doesn't know won't hurt him)) but he can get past it.

HAS NO ONE TAUGHT ALASTOR NOT TO PICK UP RANDOM ANIMALS HE SEES ON THE STREET ????????? oh my god . this little FREAK i cannot believe he sees a pretty fish on the street and immediately takes him home. i really want to pry his head open and study him

i might snatch this concept to make mermay oneshots if ur okay w that btw. and im STILL working on the killer au i prommy i just have. wayyy too many wips and work to do irl lmfao. but for now. Snippet of writing because i love you /p(arasocial and platonic) (that first part is a joke. legally)

"You still haven't told me why you decided to keep me," Vox frowns as he hangs over the edge of the tank, watching Alastor steadily as he prepares a cut of sinner meat for the shark demon.

"Frankly, my dear, it was a burst of sudden inspiration on my part," Alastor hums. "It isn't every day you see someone as unique-looking as you, after all!"

"Is this about the TV head?" Vox frowns deeper.

"Well, not exactly--"

"It's about the TV head, isn't it?" Vox ducks underneath the water of his tank when Alastor doesn't reply, taking the others silence as an affirmative answer.

The deer demon sighs as his companion's body slowly becomes too ensconced in the murky depths of the tank for him to properly monitor, focusing his efforts back on making sure the fish sinner's corpse was prepared properly for Vox to ingest easily. Keeping a pet was much harder than Rosie had made it out to be- but in fairness, it was a burden he had decided to take upon himself.

After all, the day that Vox had appeared in Hell, it had been *his* arms that the sinner had fallen into- a stroke of luck, truly, as he had been vicariously gesturing to Rosie the motions he'd made for a recent and more theatrical hunt and been in *just* the right position to catch the poor dear- which was clearly a sign that Vox was meant to be his. And now, with the fascinating darling having been swimming around in the expansive tank of his living room for more than six months now, Alastor could confidently say that he had never made a choice more correct in his life.

Well, maybe not. Killing his father in cold blood had also been a pretty correct choice- maybe he should amend that to *afterlife*? Yes, that would work.

Alastor hums as he finishes the plating of the fish sinner, turning around to the tank with the finished meal in hand. He knocks on the glass wall- not expecting an answer, he goes to place the tray down next to the little window next to the bubble of air, only to be met with a much more- *human* looking face than expected.

Two glowing eyes, one the striking blue of larimar and another the rich brown of axinite, meet Alastor's own. Glowing marks stripe along the remarkably human face, as the shark sinner in front of him grins nervously. "I got rid of the TV. Will you let me go now?"

Alastor blinks.

Once, then twice. In the silence, he can see the nervous hopefulness on the demon's face flicker slightly as he breathes slowly, carefully setting the tray of food aside as he traces the outline of the other's face in the glass.

"Let you go, my dear? ...Oh, dear. I think I've been quite misconstrued. You aren't going anywhere, my lovely siren."

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ „ FIXED

tw. cest, bit of degradation but mainly praise, spit, oral fixation, oral, choking, its kinda soft pffff so tw feelings, corruption, hajime gets off on the guilt wordcount. 4.2k

a/n.  who's surprised about more cest? exactly no one ♡♡♡ but i missed hajime nii, besides i haven't written nearly enough full length big bro iwa fics FIXED /fikst/ 1. predetermined and not subject to or able to be changed. (adj.) 2. mend or repair. (verb)

iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader

You never really knew that much about boys growing up. That’s just how it went. Hajime started playing volleyball before you were old enough to remember different. Your life was constructed around it. Every practice for him meant no free babysit for your parents, so you were dragged with mom to dance class with other moms. And they brought their equally clueless baby girls, which led to you enrolling in girls related things with girls who related.

You wouldn’t have known about boy’s things, apart from the small circle of cultivated friends Hajime allowed into his space, and yours. It wasn’t on purpose, but the outcome was still the same.

Any and all information you had about boys came straight from Hajime’s mouth, who was older. Compared to clueless you; niichan held the wisdom of a sage. You always clung to his every word, even as he grew bigger. Even as he grew more snappy, sick of dealing with his friends who were stupid boys and did stupid high school boy things. Everything you didn’t know went through niichan. Not ever the other boy spending too much time in your house, because Oikawa was a liar, and niichan would make sure you remembered it.

But you knew certain things too when you saw them, and what small amount you did know— was now rearing it’s ugly head and asking questions.

“Wh—what’s this? What are you watching?” As you shuffle out of the hall with a frown, you hold niichan’s phone away from your body with loose fingertips. Boys might not have cooties anymore in your mind, but everyone talks about how gross boys are. You don’t want to risk it. And Hajime freezes in place like he’s guilty, wide-eyed. It’s brand new. Unusual. Like hitting bullseye on the first throw, tickling your brain from within.

See, Hajime was always bigger than most in your town, athletically built, and prone to using that build full of energy and power to his advantage. That to say, he was always quicker than most to squish you into silence or grab you by the collar instead of using his words when it came to accusations. Your parents weren't around much to scold him for it. It’s what his popular best friend loved to call ‘anger issues’, wait for it to blow up.

And silent, thinly veiled panic isn’t — that.

“Why the hell are you on my phone?” Hajime’s face blanks as he puts down the remote, glances over his shoulder for supervision, and puts on his meanest glare as he scrambles up from the couch. He’d been left on little sister duty all afternoon, and now, you’d gone and made a critical error. Your friends joke about no-goes, but you never really got why ‘messing around on a boy’s phone’ was an issue.

Hajime nii clearly doesn’t agree. His biceps bulge as he crosses his arms over his chest with mouth set in a thin line, and you shuffle in place within arms’ reach of him.

“I’m not on your phone, I just found it like this on your bed.” It’s the truth, you hadn’t meant to find anything. Intent doesn’t matter to your big brother though, because he towers you as he does. It’s the best way you can describe the way he glares you down ice cold, close enough to make your skin break out in goosebumps, waiting for retaliation. If you were any of his guy friends, you’re sure they’d get a solid kick to the shin. The little sister treatment is more mean mugging you until you fidget. “I wasn’t even snooping, I just needed to get a charger,” you tack on, swinging your arms behind your back.

“Give it.”

“No,” you quip back, for no particular reason other than to win the back and forth that always starts like this.

“Give me my phone, before I choose to take it.” His hand sticks out, bigger than yours, and you lean back a little. Usually it’s just empty threats. But sometimes you pick the wrong day to argue back, until you end screaming like a banshee under him like it’s life or death. Niichan’s still young enough where it makes him feel strong not to hold back.

The second ‘no’ sticks in your throat as he leans into your space more, and you can basically taste the natural instinct to roll over before he gets there. But you can’t help yourself. You want answers. You don’t deliver the device as quickly as he wants you to. A single eyebrow raises -an I dare you- deciding whether or not to smack you over the head for your transgression.

And you should know better, but the younger sibling in you aches. You suck your bottom lip. “Why are you watching this?” you grimace as you look at the phone again, unlocking it to reveal the video of a naked girl suckling on what the deadly annoying, high-pitched whine of ‘step brother’ loud through the little phone speaker says is her brother’s… parts. It doesn’t look like anything you’ve ever seen, from the few seconds you watched. But niichan always gets into the bath before you, and you don’t peek. Ever. But judging by the groaning and moaning from the guy, it must be-

Hajime goes bright red in his face as he yanks the phone out of your hands. “Don’t play it, are you fucking stupid?” Your father is still just as busy in his office as he’s been all day, but the way he panics to turn it off would almost make you think differently.

“It’s porn, isn’t it? You’re watching porn.” You’ve heard your friends talk about porn enough to know what it is. You just don’t know why he’s watching it. “Why?”

After clicking out of the tab, your big brother makes a face that’s equal parts fed up, and embarrassed, but he doesn’t give you any of the answers you’re looking for. “Shittykawa sent me that, ’s nothing. Just- fuck, don’t touch my shit again. Or I’ll knock the sense into you, y’hear?”

“But why watch it?”

“You’re dumber than you look if you think I’ll talk to you about-” The last word isn’t even spoken, but it feels like it’s heard just as loud. Your brother watches porn. There’s a pit in your stomach. Because your brother isn’t a liar, but he also isn’t a gossip. And he doesn’t offer up important information until you ask, which always ends with you feeling left out. Late. The overly girly pout of the woman moaning rings in your mind over and over. You’ve never done that stuff to your brother. Instead of helping you out, he hoards info. It makes the hairs on your neck stand up, and you don’t know why.

When he goes to brush past you, you wrap your arms around his waist and cling to him, face to stomach as he tries to walk away. “I’m not done,” you drag out the word, “niichan, stahp-uh. St-aw-aww! You’re hurting me!” You’re really to blame for the way you struggle to hold him in place, and he isn’t one to just fold without a fight. “Niisan~ tell me why! Come on, don’t be annoying. Ughh— don- you’re annoying!” Hajime nii doesn’t just give in. You know that as well as he does.

“Get off!!” His hand is big and warm as it wraps around your neck and he shoves his thigh between your legs, lifted off the floor. You cling on, squeezing hard as he huffs and you use your whole body to try and keep him in place. “Let go of me, brat, fuckin’-uhg- you’re—” You manage to fall back halfway into the couch with Hajime’s weight on top of you in the struggle and bite it, butt landing hard on the floor as he knees you in the shoulder and protects your face just in time. “Idiot, you wanna break your nose over this shit?”

“Why are you looking at that stuff, tell me!” you demand again, through welling up tears this time. “I want to know, or else- Else I’ll ask Oikawa.” He moves just enough to cradle your face and watch you for a second, then blows out a deep breath.

“No, you don’t.” His eyes zero in on yours, and his eyebrows flatten out a little. “You’ve made your point, just stop making a scene.” After running a hand through his spiky tufts of hair, he clicks his tongue. “If I tell you, will you shut up about it?”

Your head bobs up and down quickly, always ready to indulge your brother. “Of course! Promise.” Your voice is extra sweet when you say it.

In turn, Hajime sits back down to make some room for your shoulder as you sink down against the furniture, and look up at him. “Get up from the floor, c’mon-”

“Hajime nii~,” you bristle, crossing your arms over your chest, “just say it.”

You can basically see him think about rolling his eyes, but he fights the urge to instead let out a noncommittal huff, and pats his thigh. “Suit yourself.” You swallow down a sniffle, and rest your head onto the couch. And your niichan’s eyes flick to you again, hesitating. “What d’you want me to- I- If you wanna know why I watched it, it’s- because it feels good. I like it.” Your face must give away your confusion, because he glances over his shoulder again before patting your head and running his fingers through your hair in nerves. “And it is easier for guys to… come if we watch stuff.”

“Like it?” Your lashes tickle against the fabric as you look up at him, not yet satisfied. He’s not getting away with a measly little explanation like that. “But what was the girl doing?” Niichan’s chest rumbles softly with the deep breath he takes, pulling his fingers down to squeeze the bridge of your nose instead, like it’ll shut you up. But it doesn’t, only makes you whine and push at the hand. When he speaks again, his voice is very soft, almost too much so. It makes you giddy. It warms your blood. You love when Hajime nii tells you secrets, or things you’re not supposed to know.

The low mumble reaches. “Sucking his dick.”

Sucking it. You pop your lips, and watch as he starts bouncing his leg next to your head. But the lady in the video wasn’t just sucking. You’re not sure how to word it, so just pout for a moment. It’s not like you mean to push it too far. Evidently, you do though. “Can I do that to you, niichan?”

It nails the coffin closed, because he suddenly stands up and narrows his eyes, as heat comes up all the way to his ears. “Oh my god, don’t make it sound fucked up. I’m—”

"What, what, what?" you pout, and cling to him.

"Shut. Your. Trap. Dad's gonna hear." He takes your cheeks between his index finger and thumb, and makes you really look into his eyes. “Don’t ask anyone else that. Ever, okay? I’m not- talking about this with you right now.”

+

The conversation sated you back then, it seems. Because it doesn’t come up again until you’ve totally forgotten about it, much, much later. Late enough for you to be awoken from your sleep with an involuntary yawn. Hajime’s apartment is still pitch black, but you’re not unaware of the shape next to you as it slips into the covers with careful motions. Your chest rises and falls shallowly, before you nose pushes into his chest and he settles. “Sorry.”

“M’n -rom d’airport, miss you,” you slur, and also curl up further into Hajime’s heat, who doesn’t bother to try and understand you. You’re not even sure yourself. Only that you don’t want him to move, and that the gentle soothing motion of his heavy hand on your hip is nice. “Hm?”

“You’re taking up my side,” his voice rattles your skull with how deep and low it feels this close to your brain.

“‘M not leaving, you’re warm. Wanna stay here. Forever.” It’s enough to have him give in, slide an arm under your side and drape you up a little higher onto his pillow to really slide in nice and close next to you. Chest to chest, and your face to his collar. It isn’t the first time you’ve cuddled, or felt his thighs force some room between your legs to slide one of his between.

But it’s weird. You can still feel his eyes on your face, magnetic in the twilight. They trail paths all over, suffocatingly so. When you open your eyes as much as the call of sleep will allow, your lashes almost brush his nose, and it tickles, and your big brother’s breath dusts over your cheeks. “Wanna get more sleep before I have to go back home.” You justify, but Hajime doesn’t nod, doesn’t disagree either. He just looks, too close to your face. Your sleepiness doesn’t matter so much when your heart patters against your ribs. It’s just - like ice sliding down your spine, you can feel how your stomach turns inside you, and how hot the air feels. Why is it weird?

You’re older now. You know better now. There’s a whisper, a soft “niichan,” anything to break the tension. It is breathier than you mean it to come out. You just want to know if he feels nauseous too, sensing the same feeling of hell pressing down on your chest as the room seems to come closer. He seems to come closer too. He’s always so bright, so present in your mind. Whether you’re halfway across the world or kept

in his arms. And then pillowy lips connect with yours, nose brushing along your matching one, and your lips are pushed open by a wet, warm tongue. A hot flash travels down your throat as you try not to skitter away at the feeling. It takes a few seconds for your brain to catch up. Why is it different? Why? Why’s your belly burning with a strange sort of pressure? Tonight’s the last night you’ll be spending in Hajime’s apartment for a while, maybe.

His tongue slides into your mouth and tangles with yours, tasting of watermelon and mint mouthwash, and his heart beats slower against your chest. He’s just so close, and you feel like you’re drifting off into dreamland with how warm you feel melting into him. “M-nii -chan,” your voice comes, and a hand grabs your cheek to pull your face closer to his. You’re instantly reminded… of that high pitched moan of that girl on that video.

“Shh, ‘s okay. I’ve got you,” he noses along your jaw, before pressing a lingering kiss right in the middle of your bobbing throat. You don’t expect him to sit up. You don’t expect him to slide his arm under your knees and move you sideways, and to come back to your face for more warm, sloppy, wrong kisses. “I love you. I love you.” This is… wrong, isn’t it? It’s incest, and wrong. The word that haunted you ever since you learned it’s meaning. He groans your name in the quiet, and you automatically reply with a soft moan. Can’t help it. The kissing turns into deeper, needier, panting and spit on your bottom lip before he slides the calloused tips of his fingers over the exposed sliver of your tummy and up.

Hooking your flimsy cotton onto his fingers and pulling at it until he reaches the swell of your tits, but not revealing anything yet. You shake, and your legs spread apart. There’s a pressure on your bladder, on the lowest part of your belly, where heat collects itself and drips out of you into your panties— and it should be more embarrassing than it is. But your pout is kissed by your devoted, all-knowing big brother, and you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

“Let me- wanna show you somethin’ now.” His breathing against you feels like heaven, sweetening your blood until you can barely think straight over the smacking mouths and dripping of spit and your cunt and the swirling fire in your loins. “You’re so fucking- pretty.” His chest rubs against your tits, and his fingers pinch the skin where your breasts blush with heat, squeezing with a low rumble of his voice. He wants to say something, but doesn’t get the words out, clearly, as he shuts himself up in your lips, then your throat, down to your tits. Your pussy’s glowing, and your mind foggy- something you can’t pinpoint to either sleep or the moment, and is most likely both combined.

Hajime nii’s boxers are barely clinging onto his thighs with the way it’s tented around his cock when he pulls back, taking a long look just like you are. He’s hot, physically burning under your eyes. But also… filled out so much. He was always broad, but now it’s just distracting. Carved from marble and dusted with gold. It’s childish, petulant even, how you take in the sight and moan with your hands pawing at his shirt, but so fucking true. You’re overcome with it, with love for him.

And niichan seems similarly affected as you are, because there’s a furrow between his brows that only relaxes when he stares at your blushy, spit-covered lips, your heaving chest, the sticky patch of your panties as you’re laid spread on his bed.

His hand comes to yours, letting you wrap your fingers around his, but he doesn’t move beyond that. Only breathes deeply, and stares at the way you tangle your fingers between his. “Niichan, please,” you whine, pulling, tugging, demanding him into motion until he places his free hand onto his chubbed cock and squeezes himself through the fabric. The wet patch of his gray boxers clings uncomfortably to his cockhead, and you suck your lip between your teeth. “Show me, niichan. I wa- wan’ you to, please.”

You’re the one sitting up first, grabbing a handful of your own tits to whimper as his fist stays screwed around his cock— and have to lean yourself all the way down to nose at the inside of his thigh before he finally moves again. “Oh- fuck.” His hips jerk as he rubs himself against your cheek once, and when you moan, again. Large hands and long fingers splay out over your head to keep you in place as gently as he can manage as you let your spit-slick tongue rub against him as he fucks into the air and you chase. You only manage a little glance up between your lashes at his heavy petting and desperate few pumps against the softness of your mouth, but it’s plenty.

Plenty to see the blown out pupils and bead of sweat rolling down his neck, his ears and cheeks a dusty pink. Your big brother groans when you brush your thumb over the sticky patch of the fabric and wrap a ring of fingers around him, forcing the covered head to pop into your soft mouth with a loud kissy noise. “I- Fucking hell, get o- oh,” he doesn’t let you stay latched on, tangling his fingers in your hair and holding you away as he shudders, “you wan’it? That makes you feel good, does it?” The pull of your hair feels good though, pussy clenching around nothing again.

“Mhm, being under my big brudder makes me feel good.” You can’t keep yourself from nuzzling into his hand when he releases you to get up onto his knees, and watch as he shoves the boxers down his thick thighs with slower motions than you wish he’d use. It’s a little unfair. Even in the low light, you can see the glossiness of his cockhead, the little trail of hair leading you all the way down to right between muscular legs- and your nails drag down the skin with a needy whine until he rests the heavy tip back onto your lips. Onto your squirming, little tongue.

Hajime’s breathing comes to a halt as you lick up the slit and glance up at him, and move your hand to reach under his cock too. “Mh-niichan? You wanted this, right? for how long?”

His eyes go half lidded as he hums. “Long.”

Another long lick sliding down, your spit coats the bottom of his twitching cock until you’re happily nestled at the base and press kisses down. “Is that why you only watch sister porn?”

He groans your name with a tight grunt, and you can see the way his chest caves. You guess it doesn’t really matter. Worse sins have been committed just tonight than your big brother fondling you in his bed, and pressing you down on his lap. But the way it flushes his neck and makes his eyes narrow is so satisfying, you almost don’t know what to do with yourself when he pushes you away from him to roll you onto your back, long fingers finding your neck. The press scares you for a split second, before the pressure makes way for entirely too much pleasure. “Still a fucking brat.” His olive irises flash as he watches you drop open your mouth again, and pull at his shirt with a moan.

“Take this off~ niichan, please. Please.” His shirt is discarded somewhere next to the bed, before he allows you to place your lips back to the thumping, blood-filled head of his cock and wrap them around it. It feels good, really good— and he tastes like Hajime, slowly starting to rock onto your tongue as his hand tightens in your hair.

“Wan- uhuh, fuck, I want to cum down your throat so bad. Use-m- my little sister’s mouth.” He’s heavy, and thick, and spit gets everywhere as you do your very best to hollow your cheeks around his hard cock each time he pushes a little farther in. But of course you gag when he pushes past your tongue into your tight throat, and grunts out your name. He pulls back to let you take a breath but fucks right back into you, now rocking his hips harder and deeper. You gag, and Hajime hums. “Tch, messy little sister. Good, tho- feels so good-” Your fingers squeeze around the part where you can’t quite reach, other hand on his balls, while spit goes everywhere.

“Fuck, I’m fucking my sister’s mouth, this is- so fucked.” You suck harder, and Hajime’s cock twitches in your mouth. “Uh- love— you, uhuh, that’s a good girl.” Your lips are stretched wide, and your throat burns around the intrusion, but the feeling just makes you so lightheaded. Floating off from the world as he cups your face with two hands and jackhammers into your mouth until you can’t tell up from down. Your muffled, sloppy ‘niichan, niichan’ only makes his shoulders raise higher, abs flexed each time he makes you bottom out around him, each time tears run down your face. Even when you gag and push back against him. “You love your big brother too, right?”

“Mhm,” you’re choking on it and enjoying it, breath flooding your lungs each time he pulls back far enough to let you— before you have to grab his thigh and open your teary eyes to glance up at him. “Niichan, Hajime nii, p-please. Want your cock, i-inside, want to be my big brother’s cockslut, plea~se.”

He hauls you up from him by your shoulders, rolls you onto your back as he stares into your eyes. Pupils blown wide, with the pretty sliver of green, he bites his lip so hard it must hurt. “Why— you keep saying shit like that, thinking I’m not going to react? Stop poking.” His long fingers glide from your shoulder up to your neck again, and squeeze just enough to have you seeing little stars that vanish when you look at them. It feels good. Hajime feels so good. With the light of the moon dusting along his edges, you slowly spread your legs on both sides of his body, and blink.

“Mean it. Mn-gh, nii~chan. Want your cock to fill me up, I wan’it so bad. Want you.” He looks rabid as he dips down to shove a thumb between your lips for you to suck, lingering in that heady feeling. More. You moan it around his finger as he pushes on your tongue, but he’s already distracted with the way you’re peeling your own panties down your legs, and how the stings of slick stretch from the fabric all the way to your gushing cunt. “Pl-uh-ese, nii-dan.” Your lewd sucking of his finger and the way you pull your lower legs around his glutes seems to be too much for him.

“Love ya, Hajime niichan.”

You feel his lips crash to yours before his cock is shoved into you, but it’s the latter that instantly has your arms wrap around his muscular back to cling on. Because he’s thick, heavy, and burning hot inside you. Wetness clicks and squelches as he slides all the way in and swallows up your moan. He pulls out, and slams back in hard enough to make your legs jerk. You feel him in your belly. You feel him in your throat. You feel him in your soul too, as he sucks your tongue and cups your cheek and palms your tits all at once. As he pulls out and hits a spot inside you you didn’t even know about, and fucks you so good it makes your toes curl.

“‘S our secret, okay?” he pants when he pulls back, lifting your legs to your chest. And you’re already nodding your head up and down before he has to ask more, letting out the shakiest whimper.

Your voice is extra sweet when you hum. “Of course. Promise~.”

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2022. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[brain-usurped-by-bug]

My Curated Turbo/King Candy playlist!

These 22 songs were selected for their lyrical connection first and vibes second, although the playlist mostly consists of rock and electronic music. I have arranged the playlist roughly in narrative order for maximum vibes.

Tracklist (as of Sept 14, 2024), along with choice lyrics and overly deep explanations on why these songs fit.

"The End" - My Chemical Romance. Serves as an introduction to the playlist, and a warning of the downfall that is to come. "Save me! Save me! You Can't! Take me!"

"The Main Character" - Will Wood. A sharp transition away from the introduction, taking you back to a happier time. Despite the bright tone, the lyrics introduce a self centered character who feels he deserves love and attention. "I'm the main character, and you have to like me."

"I'm Gonna Win" - Rob Cantor. A Rock music. The lyrics speak of winning at all costs and a refusal to give up. "I'll never loose, I'll never die. You've seen me before, you'll see me again."

"Kickstart My Heart" - Motley Crue. Energetic rock music, representing confidence and the excitement of a race.

"Freak of the Week" - Freak Kitchen. Harsher rock music, the lyrics speak of a willingness to do anything for attention, including self mutilation. "Like me, like me, won't you like me?"

"Final Transmision" - The Living Tombstone. Electronic music, and the transition into the road blasters era. "Pushing off the payload, no cable to rewind him." "Eyelids getting heavy, sleep it off now kid, everyone knows now exactly what you did."

"Bloodstains" - Agent Orange. Angry rock, falling into mental illness. Considering homicide as a solution to his problems. "Ah things seems so much different now, the scene has died away. I haven't got a steady job, and I've got no place to stay."

"Alien Blues" - Vundabar. More mental illness rock. Disillusioned and disconnected to the people around him, popularity fading. "My teeth are yellow, hello world. Would you like me a little better if they were white like yours?"

"Toba the Tura" - Forgive Durden. Post-Roadblasters regret. lots of great lyrics here. "I watched the lamps fall, You pushed them over. They say you're gifted, Well I just see a scared kid." "The raw scorched Earth, It's a trophy of your worth." "Your cold wicked soul boasts a foul scent." "This mess that you made, it's a six-foot grave, It's a home for your lonesome bones that remain. We'll disappear you'll stay here, To rot as the king of the dark and forgot." "(Oh what have you done, disobedient son) What have I become? (You've broken the trust) Destroyed all I loved."

"My Crt" - Dream Puzzles. Moody electronic music about being hunted by a yellow eyed man inside a computer. Is he haunting himself, or is it an external force?

"Awoken" - Wooden Toster. He lives in pain and regret, but he has awoken from the monotony and is prepared to make a change. "Pushed by desire to change the way my stream will frow. now I've awoken and I'm taking back control."

"Sirens" - Bear Ghost. A drift into headcanon territory. He he's sick of hiding, so he goes out to have fun and let off steam, but he's terrified of being caught, and nearly is.

"A Mask of My Own Face" - Lemon Demon. A turn to the playful and sinister. A mask is put on, he goes around in disguise, and is proud of himself. "I'd wear it on Thanksgiving and I'd laugh in the parade at all the people hissing, knowing I'm the one they hate."

"Cabinet Man" - Lemon Demon. THE Turbo song. He reflects on his past and decides to take over Sugar Rush. Perfect vibes, to many fitting lyrics to list. Someone sinister is lurking in a game cabinet, assumed dead, existing unseen, unbeatable, breaking in. Half Human and Half Machine.

"My Ordinary Life" - The Living Tombstone. He's a king on top of the world, surrounded by admirers. He's on a high. He loves the glitz and glamour, but it's all a farse. "People blend together but I would be lost without their love. Can you heal me have I gained too much?" "Is there a real me? Pop the camphane."

"Ruler of Everything" - Tally Hall. He is playfully in control of everything, but his inner darkness still lurks. "Your facade is a scam, you know you're making me cry this is the way that I am. I've been living a lie, a metamorphical scheme."

"Dear Dictator" - Saint Motell. A return to rock music. The point of no return has long been passed. Judgment is on the horizon. "Nobody has ever seen his face, but fear his smile." "And at the trial they'll be no jury, and all the dead are gonna play witness. It's not too late to say you're sorry, but it's to late to truly mean it."

"Wolf in Sheep's Clothing" - Set it Off. A return to rage. He's lying and hurting people to keep his position. "So, tell me how you're sleeping easy, how you're only thinking of yourself. Show me how you justify, telling all your lies like second nature."

"House of Wolves" - My Chemical Romance. He knows he faces eternal damnation, but it's way too late to turn back, so instead he embraces it. "Take this to my grave." "Tell me I'm a bad, bad, bad, bad man."

"Unconditional Love" - Against Me!. Cybug Transformation. He is doomed, and not even unconditional love can save him now. "Half digested and eternal, somewhere lost in the ephemeral."

"Dead!" - My Chemical Romance. Death. “Did you get what you deserve? The ending of your life." "Have you head the news that you're dead? No one ever had much nice to say, I think they never liked you anyway."

.

"Puzzle Pieces" - Saint Motell. Bonus track! y/n sings about how Turbo/King Candy has designed himself, and is made up of all these pieces that don't fit together. "I can hardly move, I can barely breath, near your features."

[depravitycentral]

Lee this toooootally isnt inspired by your latest Oikawa post because I feel like he's a closet prude but who in HQ do you think holds on to their virginity the longest based on their canon characteristics? Glad to see you writing again, make sure to stay hydrated! <3

(Because I don't mention Oikawa in the rest of the post - I agree! I think he actually does lose his virginity fairly early on (it's a drunken night and he's a bit regretful after), but I think he likes the concept of keeping himself "clean" and his body count not high just because he is a bit prudish. He'd never admit that he hasn't slept with the number of women you'd guess based off of his status and personality, but he isn't a pure saint himself. A bit hypocritical, to be honest.)

Oooh!! Something about virgin men just feels right - that shuddering little gasp they make when you first take them in your mouth, their hands clenching at the sheets or edge of the chair so tightly their knuckles turn white because it feels so damn good and they can't quite figure out where to put their hands.

(They want to put them in your hair, maybe force your head down a bit like he sees in porn - he only watches videos with actresses that resemble you, of course - but he's not sure if that's a porn-only thing, and the last thing he wants to do is mess up this perfect moment.)

Men who've never fingered anyone before, and so their movements are clumsy and awkward but eager, almost palpably so, their eyes always darting between your cunt and your face. He's listening for each and every noise you make, hoping for any kind of direction of where to touch and how, because it's just sensory overload to be feeling you like this - and suddenly now he knows why most guys don't last long in bed.

(He doesn't want to think about how fast he'll come the first time he actually gets to fuck you.)

And of course, the men who immediately have to bury their face against your neck or back when the tip pops inside of you, every muscle in their body clenching up and this soft, whiny oh leaving their knees buckling. You just feel incredible - he's imaged you often, even going so far as to crafting some sort of stand-in for your own body, be it a toy or a homemade pocket pussy, but neither come even close to the real thing. He just can't get over how warm it all is - he wore the stupid condom like you'd requested, but even through the latex he can feel the wetness, the schlicking noise driving him mad as his hips buck and snap into yours without any real rhythm or aim. He'll push in as far as possible, his balls pressed as tightly against the cleft of your ass as possible, and then he'll just breath, these labored breaths that sound like a moan at the end while wide eyes stare down at you and his fingers grasp onto your hips and thighs and breasts and oh, god when you clench like that it's too much, he can't control himself and he can't stop it and oh, oh god, oh fuck he's coming inside of you just like he's been dreaming about for fucking months -

Of course, everyone's born a virgin, but some keep that status much longer than others. Let's discuss!!

Some men are in no rush to get between someone's legs - they're taking their time, whether for a specific reason or just as a byproduct of other circumstances. This is great news for them, though, because now you get to be their first - an honor that feels both fitting and somehow much, much too good to be real.

Kageyama and Ushijima aren't explicitly waiting, but careers and their lack of social graces haven't exactly made finding a girl a priority. Besides, they aren't ones for hookups, and it takes a long time for romantic feelings to form in the first place for them - they won't sleep with just anyone, it has to be you. (They're the one-and-only type - you're they're first partner, and likely their last. At least if they have any say.)

Sugawara and Kita aren't prudes, but they can't deny the slight allure of waiting until marriage, just because they buy a bit into the construct of virginity being something sacred you're giving away. They don't judge others for sleeping with someone out of wedlock, but it makes their cheeks turn a bit pink to think about giving that part of themselves to someone special - someone like you. (Both also have thinly veiled breeding kinks that make them subconsciously feel like they have to finish inside whoever they're fucking, and while the concept of knocking their sweetheart up gets their palms sweating and their throat bobbing, they're both realistic enough to know that an aversion to condoms equates to unwanted pregnancy.)

Kenma and Kunimi both want partners. Neither are especially sexually driven, and they'd both much rather less overt affection and contact in most situations. And frankly, neither is especially great with relationships - past girlfriends have never lasted long enough to get to the sex stage, so they're virgins by default. (Though both harbor a bit of a nasty addiction to porn, even if they'd rather die than admit it.)

Akaashi and Kuroo have both had ample opportunities to lose it - they're gorgeous, respectively sweet and funny, and every girl's dream, after all. But they're picky and secretly quite shy with their feelings and romance, so letting themselves be vulnerable to intimacy is a big step that they often chicken out of. It's just scary, and while neither is particularly insecure, there's something real and raw and terrifying about sharing themselves with another person like that. (They've each fingered a girl, though, so at least they've got a bit of experience. It makes Kuroo feel better, at least.)

Others are more eager to learn what all the hype is about, to see if sex is really as good as it's fabled to be - they lose their virginity pretty early on. They're sad when they realize you won't be their first (and likely they aren't your first either, though some are more fixated on that fact than others), but they don't mind too terribly much - plus, something about sex with you feels different from all the past times. It feels better, more intimate, more meaningful, like it's actually a way of expressing their love rather than just a fun perk of dating someone. Besides, they're so shocked and elated to be with you naked that they're practically virgins - their cocks aren't working correctly (performance anxiety driven by the yearning for you to approve of their bodies, of the pleasure they can give you), their rhythms are all off compared to their normal pace, some of them even forget how to kiss because they're so damn nervous.

Semi and Bokuto have had their fair share of partners, simply because their professions make adoring female fans a dime a dozen. Both make it a rule to not sleep with fans, but there's always one that manages to catch their eye, that tempts them into breaking that moral code because maybe this is that one in a million story of the fan and the star actually ending up together. But then you step into their lives and suddenly every other woman is nonexistent, every past partner erased from their mind because all that matters is you and that perfect body of yours. (Semi has a penchant for recording when he has sex, and while rewatching the tapes leaves a bit of a sour taste in his mouth because it just feels wrong to watch his cock pounding into a cunt that isn't yours, it's easy to imagine the girl's face is you, to imagine those moans are yours, to imagine the way she clutches onto him is how you'll clutch onto him, too. Bokuto just masturbates to you constantly, to the point where it's a wonder how his body can produce enough cum to have something coming out with his every orgasm.)

Tendou's early twenties brought with it a boost of confidence, and with that confidence came women. He's by no means a ladies' man, but he's slept with a small number of women and had a few girlfriends. His obsession takes a while to form but it affects him hard, to the point where he's certainly the most likely to suffer from serious anxiety and nervousness surrounding intimacy with you, even though he's never had a problem in the past. (He's convinced you'll think his cock is too small - it's not, the solid six inches is plenty - or that his cum tastes horrible - it's not great, sure, but there's a very faint aftertaste reminiscent of chocolate from all the test-tasting he has to do - or that you'll just think he's bad. The first time he makes you come he just sits there for a moment, staring with a dropped jaw, unable to believe that he just gave you an orgasm, all because of him and him alone.)

Hinata and Nishinoya don't purposefully plow through women, but they're the type to bring a girl home every night they go to the bar or club with some buddies. Often they'll reach out about a more permanent relationship rather than just a one-night stand, but often a good fuck is all the women are looking for, anyways. And so, while they have a good amount of experience, the vast majority of it is while being inebriated - and so, the first time they fuck you (stone cold sober, unwilling to not be fully present for possibly the best moment of their lives), it's almost like a new experience all over again, simply because there's all these details and parts they don't remember doing all those nights. (It's not that they don't remember - they just never cared enough to pay so much attention to their hookup's nipples or finger them with such precision.)

Osamu and Hanamaki don't have a huge amount of experience, but they've each had a very serious girlfriend before you, and so they have extensive experience with the same woman. But you - you're different. You're prettier, smarter, sweeter, softer, lovelier, just better in every way, and they feel this sort of pressure to make sure that the sex is better, too. They're the type to ask you every few minutes if everything is still feeling good, just because sex feels so damn good for them, and they want to make sure it feels good for you, too. (If only so that you'll keep doing it, keep letting them touch and kiss and fuck you - all with that lovesick look in their eye, a blush on their cheeks, and an insistence on making sure you're coming until you're literally crying.)

There's a large variety, but these are the ones that wait the longest or the least - but regardless, sex with you is still something that excites them like they're some horny teenage boy, their pants always feeling uncomfortably tight when you're around, no matter how hard they try to will it away. You're just too perfect and pretty and sexy, and can they really be blamed? Besides, isn't it nice to have a man so eager for you, so ready to get on their knees and beg you to just give them a single chance to please you?

If anything, the persistence is endearing.

You only mentioned haikyuu, lovely anon, but I feel compelled to at least mention some of the late and early bloomers for the other fandoms I write for!

Those that wait the longest:

Kny: most of the cast because of their occupation and the time period, but especially Giyuu, Shinobu, Sanemi, Kokushibou, Akaza

Hxh: Kurapika, Knuckle, Machi, Feitan, Franklin, Illumi

Bnha: Aizawa, Enji, Stain, Shigaraki, Spinner, Hawks, All Might

Those that lose it pretty early on:

Kny: Uzui, Douma, Muzan

Hxh: Phinks, Uvogin, Morel, Shizuku, Nobunaga, Shalnark

Bnha: Hizashi, Dabi, Fatgum, Midnight

[enhashoutout]

Seiji, Arata, and Noboru

Sooo I'm rewatching High&Low the Worst as one does, and my brain started running again; so here is a comparison post of Seiji, Arata, and Noboru.

Seiji and Arata are to Fujio what Noboru is to Cobra and Yamato.

(Also I'm really sorry the Arata photo isn't centered. I tried fixing it but due to the picture dimensions I couldn't get his picture to center)

The One Who Can't Mess Up

When we meet Noboru for the first time, he is introduced as the friend who has a bright future. Even from their childhood, it is highlighted that Noboru is different from Cobra and Yamato. Noboru has dreams of becoming a lawyer, he does better in school, he doesn't get into fights.

Cobra and Yamato even say it themselves multiple times that Noboru isn't like them; that even though he came from a run-down area he had dreams and a better future than anyone else from there. In the Story of S.W.O.R.D series, Cobra even states that Noboru went to college, which was a completely different world that Cobra and Yamato could not understand. We also get a scene where Yamato tells Noboru that he is their star, encouraging him to keep going toward his dream of being a lawyer.

This early version of Noboru we see is exactly who Seiji is.

When we are first introduced to Fujio's childhood friends in the H&L The Worst movie (I haven't watched the Worst spin-off shows so I'm speaking solely based on the movie) Madoka informs the group that Seiji is the top of his class, making him the smartest person their age. To this, the friends celebrate and call him "The hope of the Hopeless Housing Estates".

Later when the group meets up again after the Oya High and Housen fight, Madoka points out that Seiji has a bruise on his lip which is unusual for him. Right away, Fujio tells Seiji that he can't be getting into fights. I'm sure Fujio knows what the costs are for Seiji, that's why he never encourages fighting with him like he does when he talks to Shinya and Masaya. We also see this when they meet up in the morning before school. Seiji asks Fujio if he is going to Hope Hill, and Fujio tells him that he'll be the one to bring Arata back and that Seiji doesn't need to worry about a thing and to stick to his books.

When Seiji gets into an altercation with his classmate who is speaking badly about the Oya students, he is confronted by one of the authoritative figures at school. This man points out to Seiji that all the teachers at school have high expectations of him. The teacher also tells him that with his grades he could get into any college of his choice in the country and that it would be best not to act in ways that would jeopardize his future.

We see that both Noboru and Seiji are constantly held up to higher expectations by the people around them simply because they were different than their peers growing up.

How Seiji and Noboru must've felt

I have not finished Story of S.W.O.R.D yet so Noboru's feelings are purely my own theory/speculation.

We get Seiji's feelings/perspective on the matter in the movie. When the man who I assume is one of the teachers or even is the principal is confronting Seiji about his actions, he also says that he heard that Seiji hangs out with boys who attend Oya High. He goes on to tell Seiji how he shouldn't be seen around them to which Seiji confronts him with the question about cucumbers.

Seiji points out that cucumbers do not naturally grow straight, we as humans put them into a mold that makes them grow straight and only allow those ones to be sold at markets. He relates this back to himself vs his brothers.

"My friends, my brothers, they aren't hoodlums or twisted. Among my friends, there's not a single loser, scumbag, or lowlife! They just grew up naturally bent! Sometimes, I envy them. I wish I were... I'm fine sir. I will become straighter than anyone else. I will be placed in the best position in the best market. For their sake."

Seiji knows that his capabilities are higher than the other boys and takes advantage of that and seizes every opportunity he can academically. He understands that he is being molded into an image of someone who is "successful" or "acceptable" in the eyes of society. However, sometimes he is envious of the fact his brothers do not have to do the same. But Seiji understands that for the sake of everyone, he has to be the one who strives to do better and take a different path in life than one where physical fighting is prominent. The lying undertone of this being that Seiji is working towards a better life so he can take care of everyone makes my twisted, bitter, little heart happy.

So how exactly does this relate back to Noboru? It's because I think that Noboru must've felt the same way.

From my understanding of the movies, we don't see much of how growing up with different behavior affected Noboru other than the fact he focused on his academics and had big future plans. He falls off course after his time in prison though. When Noboru and Cobra are talking outside of the gas station, Noboru tells Cobra how he had lost his way in life and could no longer see the future plans he had for himself. This plays a large part in how Noboru is similar to Arata, but let's back up a bit.

I assume that there were multiple times when Noboru had felt the same way Seiji did. In the show, we see that Cobra got his name because he had been Cobra twisting everyone since they were kids. This alludes to the fact that even at a young age, Cobra and Yamato fought with the other kids while Noboru didn't. We see that Noboru went to high school and took his college entrance exam which Yamato dropped him off for. We also see the scene where Noboru tells the two that his college acceptance is just the beginning, he has to also pass the bar exam. All while this is happening, Noboru is still friends with Cobra and Yamato. He hangs out with them, Naomi, and the other Mugen members at Itokan when he isn't studying. This leads me to believe that Noboru had to have felt the same way as Seiji multiple times throughout his life. He must have been struggling by himself with his academics and was envious of his brothers who didn't have to do the same, but understood that for the sake of everyone he had to be the one that "does better".

Little Parallel I noticed: Being friends with the people they are, these characters know how to fight even if they don't actively use these skills.

During the Mugen era, Sannoh's Pre-debut era if you will, Noboru doesn't get into fights with anyone. However, we do see him beat the shit out of the guys who harmed Miho. He doesn't actively fight until Sannoh era but I assume that being friends with Cobra, Yamato, Kohaku, and Tatsuya they taught him some stuff.

This also rings true for Seiji. Let's bring it back to the morning of the Kidra fight. After Seiji and Fujio meet up and Fujio tells Seiji not to worry, he walks in while his classmates are talking smack about Oya and Housen. When he's had enough of their yapping he swings at one of his classmates. Based off of everyone else's body language, it doesn't seem that the guy he punched would be able to fight back or that any of their other classmates would be able to step in and stop the fight. None of them seem like they know how to fight or even knew Seiji could throw a punch like that. I assume being friends with guys as strong as Fujio, Masaya, and Shinya teaches you a thing or two though.

The One Who Tried to Purge His Past

When H&L the Worst opens, we are introduced to Arata when Madoka tells Fujio that Arata has been hanging around some bad people and there are bad rumors revolving around him. We meet his character when he is caught on the construction site selling RedRum to some guys who work with Masaya and Shinya. Throughout the film we see that Arata is simply working with Kidra for money, he's not friends with any of these people or shares the same morals as them. This is the first point of comparison for Arata and Noboru.

Arata is working with Kidra because he needs money to take care of the house bills and his mother's hospital bills. Noboru only took up Nikaido's offer to join Iemura because he felt that it was the best way to continue from there when he felt like he had lost everything. Both took a path they thought would be best for them even if it was morally wrong or they were engaging with the wrong people because they needed something from these people.

When Arata is confronted by Fujio, he tells Fujio that he has his own way of doing things and that he wishes everyone would just leave him alone; to which Fujio tells him that he knows what he's doing is wrong, and that's why he showed up to Grandma Sada's resting place in the night by himself. Fujio tells Arata to throw the dirty money away. The night before when Madoka tells the group that Arata's mom has cancer and is worried for Arata because he has been working so hard to pay for everything, Fujio comes to understand why Arata is working for Kidra but also points out that what he is doing is wrong. Fujio tells the group that he doesn't know how to explain it, but he knows the way that Arata is going about the problem is wrong. Fujio tells Arata that his problems are also Fujio's problems because they grew up together and got in trouble together, so why shouldn't Arata's problems also be his? This is the equivalent of Cobra and Noboru's scene when Noboru is aiming the gun at Sannoh. Cobra tells Noboru he understands why he did what he did. Noboru's actions are to keep Sannoh safe from Kuryu, but that he went about it the wrong way just like how Arata is making money for his family but he went about it the wrong way.

Both are much smarter than the people around them, not in an academic sense

Noboru and Arata are both smart, much smarter than the people surrounding them even if it's not in an academic sense.

Noboru is seen as the brain in Sannoh. This is prevalent when we see the Amamiya brothers come back to him for help in breaking through the USB firewalls to reveal the Casino Project. This is also seen when Noboru was still working with Iemura. The other Iemura members are hot-headed and act recklessly whereas Noboru always treaded with caution and logic. It definitely wasn't one of his best moments but I have to give it to him because using Chiharu and Shion to push RedRum and cause chaos within S.W.O.R.D was pretty smart of him. I'll give credit where it is due lol.

After the Oya and Housen fight, we are brought back to Hope Hill where all the Kidra members and RedRum pushers are partying because they think that Housen and Oya can no longer get in their way. Not only are they talking about Oya and House, they are talking down on the S.W.O.R.D gangs as well. To which Arata speaks up, saying that the S.W.O.R.D gangs are not dumb, and that if Kidra wants to continue their business they need to move faster. Growing up in this area, Arata knows vaguely how the S.W.O.R.D gangs run and how everything works in the S.W.O.R.D area, whereas the Kidra guys do not considering they got beat by Murayama twice and think they can do whatever they want with no consequences. The other pushers clearly don't use their brains as much as Arata either. All the scenes we see of these characters together, it seems like those guys are just there to be there while Arata does the actual work of selling RedRum.

Grace Periods and Protecting Your Friends

Every time we see Arata, he's avoiding his friends. He avoids talking to Masaya and Shinya on the construction site, he avoids Seiji's messages and calls, he avoids Seiji when they both show up to Grandma Sada's resting place, and he tries to avoid Fujio in Hope Hill. Arata avoiding his friends and not talking to them is the equivalent of Noboru giving Sannoh so many grace periods to disband for their own safety.

After his run-in with the Oochi brothers on the construction site, Arata keeps quiet and doesn't tell the other pushers who Masaya and Shinya are. He avoids Seiji and Fujio until he can't. I feel that in a way this was to protect everyone. He knows what he is doing and the people he is involved with are dangerous. Ignoring them was partially so they wouldn't stop him but, part of it must have been to keep everyone else out of it because as he states while he fights with Fujio, this is his problem.

Both characters are trying to protect their friends while engaging with people who could harm the people they care about.

Purging one's past

Arata in order to work for Kidra is doing what Noboru tried to do and tries to purge his past (he is unsuccessful obviously).

Noboru multiple times throughout the series and Road to High&Low movie is telling his friends that he is different now. He tells them that people change and that he is no longer the same person he used to be. Nikaido gives him a gun, essentially telling him to either kill himself or kill his past (Sannoh). When he pulls the trigger, we find out that the gun is actually not loaded and the guy is just shooting blanks. The symbolism to this is that he can not purge his past even if he wanted to because your past is a part of you. Without your past, there is no present or future. You can't make the present or future better if you don't have your past to look back on.

Arata is doing the same when he tells Seiji he isn't the same as he used to be and when he tells Fujio that he's changed now. Fujio tells him that he can continue to punch Fujio, but his fists don't hurt one bit, not as much as his disappearance hurts their hearts. Arata and Fujio are both crying by the time Fujio is about to send another punch Arata's way, only for Masaya and Shinya to stop them. When they bring Arata back, Seiji and Madoka are there to greet him and welcome him home. Arata looks at the market and you can see the look in his eyes change. He never changed, he missed this place just as much as he missed his friends. He wasn't able to purge his past. His past is actually what helps him in the present and future, considering the group works together to give him money to help with his mother's treatments.

A Home to Come Back to

In High&Low the Movie, we see Kohaku's monologue about being a home to return to. Cobra and Yamato decide they want to go after the guys that got Noboru in jail and they tell Kohaku that it should've been them that got arrested because Noboru had a bright future and they didn't. To this, Kohaku asks them how either of those actions would help Noboru; Cobra and Yamato don't have an answer. Kohaku tells them that they can't change what happened, but that they can wait for Noboru because if Noboru has no home to return to, he'll never come back. At the end of Road to High&Low, this is exactly what we see. Sannoh was built so that Noboru would have a home to return to. Yamato even says that they can disband Sannoh Hoodlum Squad if Noboru doesn't need it anymore, that is fine, but he just wants his friend back. Once Noboru realizes that he doesn't want to purge his past, he asks Cobra and Yamato if he can come back, to which they gladly accept and welcome him back with open arms.

Fujio, Seiji, Madoka, Masaya, Shinya, and the market are Arata's home and place to come back to just like Sannoh was for Noboru. Had the group left Arata alone or chosen to exclude him because of the rumors that started to surround him, Arata probably would've never come back. But it's the fact that everyone was constantly trying to reach out throughout the course of the movie and Fujio, Masaya, and Shinya literally jumped into Hope Hill to fight and physically drag him back out that Arata comes home. He had a family to return to who would accept him even after his mistakes.

How Arata and Noboru must've felt

Again, this is pure theory and speculation because it isn't directly stated in any of the films I have watched.

Noboru must've felt alone not being able to tell anyone what he was really going through, it might even tie back to how he's the friend who couldn't mess up. Having such high expectations for himself, Noboru probably felt like a failure landing himself in jail even when he felt he wasn't in the wrong because those guys hurt Miho. On top of that, he never really tells Cobra and Yamato how he's feeling whenever they visit him in jail. When he worked for Iemura, he also had no one to confide in either. The only person who was really within his vicinity while he worked for Iemura was Nikaido, but Nikaido was the hardest on him and was violent with him because, to Nikaido, Noboru was like looking in a mirror. Nikaido aka Cain used to come from Nameless City and he truly wants to purge his past and forget ever being a part of Rude Boys and wants Noboru to do the same with Sannoh. Being so alone was probably affecting him in a lot of ways.

Arata was the same. None of the group knows that Arata is actually working with Kidra for his mother's hospital bills until Madoka tells them after she visits Arata's mom. He didn't confide in his friends for this matter, and never really talked about his feelings in general. Fujio reminds him that Grandma Sada was always worried about Arata because he never spoke up about his feelings, always bottling them up. Arata must've felt that he should take care of his own problems instead of troubling others which led him to be lonely.

Something random I noticed: The scene at Grandma Sada's grave when Seiji confronts Arata and Arata punches him, can be seen as symbolism of how Noboru felt inside during the show and Road to High&Low. Visualize Seiji and Arata as two parts of Noboru who are battling and struggling to co-exist. Seiji is his past, telling him that it's alright to come back to his home and his family while Arata, his present, is trying to tell his past that he isn't the same anymore.

It's definitely not that deep, it's just how I interpreted it.

You made it to the end! These are probably nothing new and very obvious points that everyone saw in the movies I just wanted to write about it so here we are lol. This post is not proof-read and is a little messy and all over the place but thank you for reading it anyways.

Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. Feel free to add your thoughts in the comments and reblogs. Please don't take my work and repost it anywhere or take credit for it, if you would like to build off of my work please tag me for credit and tag me because I would love to see your thoughts :)

[needsdean]

Okay here's my opinion about this story: i don't want a Merlin sequel. Lemme explain why.

This show is perfect. It has its plot holes. It has its problems. But it's still beautiful from the very first episode to the very last.

Lately, it happend that almost all my favorite tv shows have been messed up and ruined (supernatural is sadly an example), and i couldn't bare it if this happened to Merlin too.

Don't even make me talk about a possible reboot cause NEVER, I could never watch Merlin with different actors.

I think I could only accept a sequel if it felt exactly like the five seasons I know. If it was written just as well as before.

No modern age; still middle ages, 'cause that's where the show I know takes place.

Scripts and dialogues? Same style as before. Plots? Same style as before. Soundtrack? Same we always heard during the series. Merthur? Maybe canon this time, thanks.

The reason why we (and I think i can talk for many people), want Merlin back, is because we want to see again all those things we loved so dearly about the show. So it should feel exactly like the show never ended, like things haven't changed so much, because if they did, it wouldn't be Merlin anymore.

I'm just too scared they would ruin it. Maybe writing a bad plot, changing things too much, changing the characters too much. We don't need anything to change, we just need it to go on. And if we have to risk so much, I would rather keep reading fanfictions and pretend Arthur never died.

[artistsfuneral]

The Road to Kaer Morhen - p. 7

(There's coloring pages for this fic in my ko-fi shop now!)

Jaskier sighed, his face softening. “I am your friend, Aiden. I know we haven't been traveling together for long, so it might not mean that much to you yet, but I am your friend and I protect my friends, Aiden. That's the only important thing right now.” The Cat stared at him with a horrified frown on his pretty face. But unable to accept the bard's sketchy reply, he started to argue, “That is not an answer! Look at you, fucking- look at what you've done! I have never met any creature with such destructive power!”

“I am not a monster, Aiden!” Jaskier gasped, suddenly feeling just as frightened as the witcher in front of him. “I'm not some creature from your bestiary that you're hired to kill because I go about eating children for breakfast!”

Almost immediately after realizing the words that had left his mouth, Aiden wanted to apologize for them. Just how many times had he been on the other end of this exact same conversation? How many times did he have to justify his mere existence, simply because he was a witcher, a Cat Witcher of all things? How many times had people turned on him after they'd seen him fight, after they'd seen him fall into a haze of blood lust? How many times had friends betrayed him before?

And what kind of monster had tears in their eyes after being accused of such things? Aiden felt like an awful person. “I- I'm sorry, Jaskier, you're right, it's just-” he couldn't help but to take a glance at their surroundings; the destruction and chaos left behind. Next to him Jaskier sniffled and willed his tears away. “I know. It can be a lot, I'm sorry if I scared you, sunshine, but I promise- I would never hurt you. I'm a protector, not a fighter.” Aiden sighed before rubbing at his tired eye to further ease the stinging. “Alright, dandelion, I will trust you to protect me then,” he said, certainly not expecting Jaskier to fall around his neck and hug him tightly. “Thank you.”

Later, Aiden watched with a mix of apprehension and curios fascination as the bard walked around the soldiers' campsite and cleaned up a big portion of the mess he had made, to prevent attracting necrophages and the like. The Cat was entirely intrigued by the fact that Jaskier, who was more than a head smaller than him and had the slim physique one would expect from a traveling bard, seemed to posses the strength of a full grown, healthy witcher. Though, he wouldn't doubt Jaskier being even stronger than that. “Can you carry a horse?” Aiden blurted out, without really thinking about it too much. The bard froze on the spot, both hands full of several heavy metal pieces that were part of the redanian armor. He looked at Aiden, then at the four horses that were now calmly resting a bit further away from their initial spot, then back at Aiden. “Why would I carry a horse?”

The witcher snorted, “It's not about the why, it's about the ifs and coulds.” Jaskier blinked at him once, twice, before shaking his head and returning to his task. “If I ever feel the desire to carry a horse around for fun, you will be the first to know.”

“That's all I ask for,” Aiden grinned, for now satisfied with simply watching Jaskier flutter around the camp like a little bird. Every now and then the bard would find something worthwhile and place it either near their packs or right into Aiden's lap, like the sword he had mentioned earlier, a new, clean tunic, or a pair of sturdy leather boots that fit him surprisingly well. It didn't take long until the bard had them both cleaned up and wearing two new outfits. Although Aiden wasn't exactly comfortable with the distinctive lack of armor, the bard was quick to reassure him that that was taken care of as well, he just wanted Aiden's injuries to fully heal this time around, before making him carry any extra weight. Which made sense, even if it left Aiden feeling weirdly exposed.

Not that Jaskier was looking any different. Somehow the bard was wearing even less than him. Whereas Aiden's short sleeved honey colored tunic could still be worn in town without leading to some sort of kerfuffle caused by public indecency, Jaskier had somehow managed to squeeze himself in a sleeveless, skin tight garment that would have Aiden drooling, had it been his lover Lambert in front of him. Though, he admitted he had stared at Jaskier for quite a bit, when the bard had walked back towards his resting place. When he asked the bard about it, Jaskier proudly declared that it was his own design. Of course it was, Aiden thought with fond exasperation.

“Now, I don't think you'll object to us heading further east into the forest before we make camp, given the whole,” Jaskier waved his hands in a way that indicated the entirety of their surroundings, “situation.” Aiden chuckled, “Can't say I'm fond of the idea of cuddling.”

“Oh gods, no,” the bard shuddered before extending his hand to help Aiden up. He accepted without hesitating. “Alright then, now we just have to decide which horses we will take with us.”

Jaskier gasped, looking at the witcher in shock. “Which ones? Aiden, no.”

Somehow the witcher had a bad feeling about this.

“Aiden, they're friends. We can't separate friends, that would be cruel.”

“You can't be serious about this.”

“They'd make a nice present for Vesemir, don't you think?”

“Jaskier.”

or: how many horses will the author have to draw? (why am I doing this again😳)

please like and reblog if you voted

✨🌿🌼✨

"But they're friends Aiden", Jaskier said with the biggest, most adorable puppydog eyes, knowing full well that Aiden still felt guilty about earlier. (Such an evil little man ❤)

If you have any ideas on what J might've looted in camp lmk!

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[rummigumi]

Excerpt from Vanitas Part 4 draft (Yes I'm writing it out before Part 3, I don't control my brain):

Jason stared at the old god, hands clenched as he fought down the repulsion curling in his stomach.

“You wanted to talk?” The voice echoed around Jason. He swallowed down his fear as he replied, “I…what did you do to me?”

The god's head cocked to the side. “I brought you back to life, as the deal required.”

Jason had read enough ancient myths and stories around deals with gods to know it was never that simple. They'd exploit every loophole, use half truths to trick the mortals involved - anything to remind everyone who was in charge. To put those seen as beneath them in their place. The anger he was growing used to was quickly replacing the fear in his chest.

“So you screwed me over, huh? The deal was to bring me back, but you thought it'd be funny to mess me up first? Make sure I came back wrong?”

“You didn't come back wrong.” The god said it so matter-of-fact it threw Jason off. Of course he came back wrong, why else would he feel the way he did? Why else would he feel so wrong? Like a piece had been ripped out and replaced with something that wasn't him?

“No…no I did. I…I wasn't like…like this before.”

“Like what?”

“So…so…,” angry, “emotional.”

The god was silent for a moment.

“Souls that have died often feel emotions more intensely than those that haven't.”

Stronger emotions didn't explain the burning pit that had made itself at home in Jason's stomach. They didn't explain why all he wanted to do was scream and fight and pound his fists against things until his knuckles bled and his bones creaked. They didn't explain why he'd look at Bruce and feel like he was dying all over again. Stronger emotions didn't explain that.

“But why…why do I feel this way? Why is it that all I can feel is hatred and rage?” He begged the god to explain why he was feeling what he was, because he needed someone to tell him. (He needed the god to tell him what he was feeling was reasonable, that he wasn't going insane.)

And the god just stared at him with its creepy unblinking eyes and dark expressionless face. When it finally spoke, its voice was soft in a way that only occurs when one is explaining death to a child. “You're angry because you are mourning, and in pain. You have lost who you were and the life you had before you died, and it's hurting you.”

That didn't sound right. Jason hadn’t lost anything; his life hadn't changed between pre- and post-death. He'd woken up, and aside from the worried glances and even more awkward hovering from Bruce, it had been easy to forget he had even died. How could he have lost anything when everything was exactly the same as before he died?

(Before he was killed.)

But Jason had changed. While living with Bruce he had grown soft, forgot what the world was really like, forgot that just because he wore a cape and believed in justice and doing the right thing and helping others it didn’t mean shit when push came to shove. He had forgotten what he had learned long ago while watching his mother spiral deeper and deeper into her addiction and he had to do anything to survive. Awful things happened, and the world kept on turning and the universe kept expanding and it didn't matter how good you were or if you did everything right, unless you won the karmic lottery you were screwed.

But dying had removed the naive beliefs that he had allowed to fill his head, had removed the rose-colored glasses Bruce had put over his eyes. Dying had changed him, but he hadn't lost who he was. If anything, it made him more of who he was before Bruce.

(Before stability and peace and enjoying being alive and allowing himself to be a kid-)

“No,” Jason's voice was choked and harsh, “you're wrong.”

And the god didn't smite him for daring to imply he knew better than it. It didn't even scold him. It simply asked, “Then what is causing your pain?”

[bugsbenefit]

It’s because some of us can’t stand fanon mike he’s not will or el at the end of the day it’s not our fault the duffers already messed up his character arc long ago. some of us aren’t really interested in mike like that and to be frank I hate how much trauma people are putting on him as if he isn’t a privileged middle class *maybe cis maybe not* kid with insecurities cause he can’t play hero anymore like he used to. Fanon mike is retaliation to whatever we got the last two season from the character and I get it, but why are we keep acting like he’s important to vecna or the plot like that he’s just els boyfriend and wills crush at this point.

You don’t agree with this most likely but idc I’m just here to let this out for those who sympathize with mike. He’s genuinely not a interesting character and if Will wasn’t in love with him I wouldn’t look his way.

Hello? Will solo stan that doesn't get the show in My asks? more likely than you think

i'm sorry but you clearly sent this knowing i wouldn't agree with you and you don't sound like you want a conversation so... why did you send this? was it just to tell me there's people that don't care about Mike? because shockingly, i know that already, the influx in open Mike hate was why everyone doubled down on his character being important and purposeful last week in the first place

i'm genuinely confused on how you're watching the show, though. i mean, at least you're admitting you're only in it for Will so i guess you're aware of your bias and shortcomings?

also lmao sorry but *maybe cis maybe not*?? are you trying to say being queer in the midwest 80s in a small town with a conservative environment wasn't that bad or damaging or worth elaborating on because he's "probably cis" and the family is middle class? hello? newsflash just in, the queers need to stop complaining about how scared they are of coming out and potential consequences of it, if you're cis you're basically getting cishet privileges anyway. i'm really not sure what you meant to say here, you okay? also, aren't All the characters cis??

the vendetta you have against "fanon Mike" is fascinating tbh. what exactly is "fanon Mike" to you, bc the ask suggests it's just Mike with any motivations and 3dimensional writing orrrr? also thank you for telling me that Mike El and Will are separate characters! i almost forgot! i really needed the reminder that these extremely different characters aren't actually the same person or re-skins. thanks for your service, you really showed the evil Mike-sympathizers today o7

but you know what, sure, i'll indulge this a bit, i like talking about the show after all, you don't have to read this ofc, i feel like we're both aware we won't find common ground here

saying that Mike isn't important to the plot is batshit crazy sorry not sorry. not even talking about s5, it's just plain wrong in general and i'm assuming you haven't seen the show in ages

even right from the beginning Mike is established as the first MC and then proceeds to be the main pov for the entirety of s1. in universe Mike is the parties dm unofficial leader and according to Will "heart of the party", out of universe Mike is the only character that has established relationships and evolving conflicts with every single party member and even most adults like Hopper and Joyce. i don't know how you're watching the show to take away that Mike is unimportant and a support character

ST is an ensemble show and Mike is one of the characters, alongside El, Joyce and Will that consistently fills an MC role. (while also being one of the only ones to outright get referred to as one of the mains by actors and writers) where you got the idea from that Mike is a useless character people are stupid to care about is beyond me

if you're genuinely going into s5 hoping for Mike to be as unimportant and off-your-screen as possible i feel like you're setting yourself up for the disappointment of the century. i feel stupid just listing the reasons for why Mike is clearly going to be an important player in s5 because of how obvious they are but oh well

Mike is the first protagonist ever introduced and the final season that wants to go "full circle" Has to finish his arc satisfyingly for it to work

Mike is Will's love interest, a character that's already confirmed to be more of a main on screen again, so focusing on both parties of the ship is necessary to get them together

also Mike is still in a relationship? if he's supposed to go from dating El to suddenly dating a guy that's also his childhood bff you need to elaborate on his feelings. otherwise Will's romance is also going to fall flat and i'm sure you don't want that anon

Mike is part of the people that only came back to town after everything in s4 went down already and part of the group that seems to be the main focus in s5 (see the hill shot)

also just regarding the hill shot, Mike is center stage here (and also between his two "love interests"), totally accidental i'm sure

also the only character Will told about Vecna being alive in s4 and already swore to kill him with Will, also totally not a s5 set up don't worry

and before i go on here, aside from the writers themselves mentioning Mike as a main in multiple interviews David talked about the s5 mains a few days ago and Obviously Mike is up there along with El, Will and Joyce, exactly the people you'd expect

i don't understand how people are trying so hard to claim that there's nothing interesting about Mike to get into, as if even just s4 itself doesn't go out of it's way to set up an excess of potential conflict for s5

obvious relationship drama with El left hanging after an "i love you" monologue which we didn't see a response to yet

feelings for his best friend while he's still dating his gf

the unresolved painting lie

also the sexuality issue that comes with being queer/gay, that's been going back to s1. also made more severe by the show going out of it's way to repeatedly hammer home that the Wheelers are conservative and don't have close relationships with their kids

"you're the heart", speech about leading the party and bringing everyone together. he can't just face into the bg after Will gave him that talk, there needs to be payoff

the whole hellfire thing that's set up with the members names and faces being broadcast as "satanists" and the potential reason for everything that's been going on ON TV, sure that won't have any consequences am i right?

the Vecna plot itself, s4 makes it a point to have Will tell Mike and only Mike about Vecna being alive and the two of them agree to kill him right before the season ends

and that's just the obvious set ups s4 leaves us with, not even touching on the fact that Mike's pov has been withheld for essentially 2 seasons. which is something you can do and ignore, but only if the characters don't have anything going on during that time. Mike meanwhile changes drastically in these two seasons and we never get to learn what actually happened, why he's suddenly so set on growing up and getting gfs in s3, why he's suddenly such an uninterested bf in s4, why he suddenly feels weird about kissing El in the s3 finale after already having made out with her. there's a lot happening and we only see the fall out of it, we don't get Mike's pov. you call it "bad writing" but that's a picture book writing 101 set up, if you don't see that i don't know what to tell you

but i feel like you said everything already, i'm just rambling because i like talking. we probably won't find any common ground here. you only tolerate Mike because you like Will and that's that. not everyone has to care about every aspect of a show, however, i don't get why you're going to other blogs to tell them about your personal preference and about how you don't like one of the MCs. this is an ensemble show, it's not the El-show, and it's not the Will-show either, both of these takes are equally wrong

i don't know what the ideal s5 would look like to you, but if it turned out Will was the only important thing and the only character we focused on it would be absolute ass and horrible writing

Lucas just lost Max and left him with a shit ton of trauma, also Erica's gone through so much too. Max is still lost in a coma. El is distraught over not being able to save Max and now not find her anymore. Dustin just lost Eddie right in front of him too. there's a military presence in Hawkins now, the hellfire club fallout still hasn't happened, and so on and on. (also things like the "Nancy love triangle" still need time to be resolved too)

there's a lot s5 has to focus on to be a good wrap up for all these arcs. and yes, handling Mike's arc well is also part of that, shockingly

also ending this with a: you know people are allowed to like and care about character even if you don't give a shit about that character, right? claiming a central character with a ton of conflict set up isn't interesting is well withing your right and i won't change your mind on that, i'm aware, but going after people for actually caring about the conflicts the show is setting up isn't the move either. not everyone is obligated to share your views, especially when they're this far out there. and i feel like you knew that going in here