#all of them are just objects to move the plot

[zwartexxroos]

[📼] Headcanons of Marvel Men when you dragged them to watch horror movies together.

(including Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker, Loki Laufeyson, Stephen Strange, Logan Howlett, Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr, Steven Grant, Joaquin Torres, and Johnny Storm)

Tony Stark

"Horror? You mean, like, fake horror or 'this is gonna traumatize me' horror?"

Jokes the entire time.

Throws popcorn when jumpscares hit—at the screen.

Lowkey startled multiple times but pretends he’s not.

“I wasn’t scared, I was just reacting for your entertainment."

Ends up clinging to you when he thinks you won’t notice.

Steve Rogers

"Sure, I can handle a horror movie."

Lies.

Eyes go wide during creepy music build-ups.

Gasps quietly when something jumps out, then looks embarrassed.

Subtly scoots closer.

Probably ends the night saying, "Let’s balance that out with a comedy next time…"

Bucky Barnes

"No. Absolutely not. I’ve been through enough horror already."

Yet… ends up watching it.

Stone-faced the whole time, like nothing phases him—until a ghost crawls on the ceiling.

“I'm done. That’s some unnatural shit.”

Secretly enjoys how you clutch his arm.

May or may not use the excuse to keep his arm around you all night.

Peter Parker

"Uhh—like horror-horror? Like, paranormal or slasher? Wait—is it gory?"

Nervous bouncing leg.

Grips the popcorn bucket like it's a lifeline.

Hides behind a pillow but still peeks through.

Ends up holding onto your hand like it’s his lifeline.

“Next time can we watch Pixar instead?”

Loki Laufeyson

"Pathetic mortals and their idea of horror. I could do far worse with a flick of my hand."

Unbothered… until the atmosphere gets too real.

Quietly mumbles, “That spirit’s possessing the wrong vessel…”

Smirks, but you catch the tension in his shoulders.

“I am not afraid. But if you are… you may cling to me.”

Ends up clinging to you later when a exorcism scene goes wrong.

Stephen Strange

"I’ve literally fought creatures from beyond time and dimensions, this is nothing."

Fully confident. (at first)

Then something moves in the corner of the screen and he pauses like: “…Okay, that was well done.”

Watches with arms crossed and half-judging the plot.

Casually throws his cape over your shoulders when you get scared.

Will not admit it if he flinched even once.

Logan Howlett

"Tch. Waste of time. Horror ain’t scary when you’ve lived through it."

Sits grumpily.

Grumbles at characters making dumb decisions.

Until the chainsaw scene starts. Then he tenses.

Might slip an arm behind you like it’s no big deal.

“If anything touches you, I’ll gut it. Even if it’s fictional.”

Charles Xavier

"As long as I don’t accidentally pick up on your panic, this should be enjoyable."

Calm and collected.

Then you jump, and it makes him jolt too.

Chuckles softly, brushes your hair aside, whispers: "You’re more entertaining than the film, my dear."

If you already watch it once, would definitely reading your mind halfway through just to know when the scares are coming (he cheats!).

Erik Lehnsherr

"I don’t see the appeal of fear-based entertainment.

Sits through it quietly… at first.

Then absolutely tenses when something crawls across the ceiling backward.

Narrows his eyes like he’s about to metalbend the ghost.

"Why would you enjoy this?"

Kinda loves the way you press yourself against him.

Steven Grant

Super enthusiastic—loves horror lore.

“This one’s got great reviews! You’re gonna love it!”

Halfway through: whispers history of the haunted object on screen “Y’know, in ancient Egypt, they used to believe—”

Will totally grip your hand during scary bits though.

After? “Brilliant film! Fancy another one? Or should I… walk you home?”

Joaquin Torres

“Horror night? I’m in!”

Brings snacks, cozy blankets, a positive vibe.

Ends up screaming once and then laughing at himself.

Constant commentary like: “Nooope. Couldn’t be me. I’d be OUTTA there.”

Sneaks an arm around your shoulders “for comfort.”

Afterwards? “You should totally sleep over—uh—so you’re not scared, of course.”

Johnny Storm

Grinning when you tell him. “Pfft. Horror? Babe, I’m flame-proof.”

Smug at first, loudly mocking the movie.

Then a REALLY good scare hits and he yells and popcorn goes flying.

“I’m still not scared! Just startled!”

Whispers in your ear, “We should do scarier things after this, yeah?”

[xenodile]

Honestly, I don't think I can say that it's just some characters in Nikke that have transfem vibes, fighting against transmisogyny and its effects on society is an integral part of Nikke's story on a fundamental level.

The story is, at its core, about a demographic of women who are othered, discriminated, hated, and objectified just because of who they are. A point is made that only women make up this group. They are simultaneously expected to perform both femininity and masculinity, yet their efforts are not recognized, ignored, or attributed to others. Most of them are immediately "clockable" for what they are, with only a select few able to "pass" as "real" humans. Society at large views them as repulsive and disgusting, but also as sex objects that exist to be used and discarded.

The women in this othered group are treated as machines, objects, and tools, yet are undeniably still human beings with all the same feelings and needs. Like it's emphasized that, for all intents and purposes, they are indistinguishable from normal people but are nonetheless recognized as "the other" simply for their nature. There are in universe slurs for them, there are major plot beats about the hate crimes committed against them.

These women are viewed as disposable, and their independence and rights are seen as inherently violent. Systems are in place to force them into obedience and compliance, and society at large sees any threat to those systems as impending doom. The state labels anyone that advocates for the rights of these othered women as a criminal.

Their lives are colorful and varied, each one unique and beautiful, but all have one thing in common: they were all someone else before becoming the person they are now. Their accounts and feelings about this vary, from seeing their "old self" as an extension of who they are now, recounting the exact moment they made the decision to be the woman they are now and are happy and proud of themselves for it, to seeing whoever they were before as a stranger, someone depressed and suicidal before she finally found purpose and pride after "the change". Others don't bother remembering their past, the person they used to be simply not mattering because who they are now, the name they use now, that is what matters.

The main character of the story is a man who sees what is happening to these women and is told by the status quo that he is not only encouraged but expected to participate in this systemic violence, and is so horrified by the experience that he devotes his entire being to fighting for their rights and trying to support them, to the point that he's willing to dehumanize and sacrifice himself if it means even one of them can be happy. Despite being described multiple times as nigh superhuman and the ideal man, he is functionally powerless and his primary role is to provide emotional support, friendship, and advocacy for the women that actually move the plot and make things happen, because the only way society will take them seriously is if a man vouches for them. One of his and his allies' main goals is to overturn the government and reform society so that these women will not be subject to this objectification and discrimination, and the main method through which this is accomplished is by showing solidarity with those the government deems undesirable, refusing to engage in the systemic discrimination the government enforces on society. Also he gets force femmed, instant lossed, pegged, beat up for being a "robot fucker", dom'd by lesbians, roofied, and much more.

And then we go into the individual character stories, some of which are very bluntly and transparently allegories for real life issues faced by transwomen. Things like parental abandonment after coming out, autism and dysphoria resulting in crippling depression, passing in a transphobic workplace, struggling to have your accomplishments as an athlete recognized, just to name a few. The ShiftUp writing team either has transwomen in it, or have a lot of transfem friends.

[adragonsfriend]

Hey serious talk for a second ok? some of you do this thing where you go “and yeah so the Jedi often take in kids from parents who are too poor to take care of them” as some kind of trump card against antis and I think your need to “defend” the Jedi has outweighed your good sense. Like I fully understand the urge, but you need to take a step back from that argument and think about what you are saying.

“They don’t kidnap kids they take in kids from parents in vulnerable, desperate situations” is not the argument you think it is.

Presenting a strategy and/or habit of taking in kids from desperate people in desperate situations as like some super high charitable trump card thing is some incredibly Christian missionary logic there ok. It is taking advantage of desperation and fear in order to acquire child.

There are so many alternative ways to write the Jedi dealing with situations of finding Force sensitive kids in desperate situations that do not suck!

Jedi who work with communities for an extended period of time, coming to know and be trusted by those communities before being offered a child born after their arrival

Jedi who encounter families with Force sensitive children work to improve the entire families’ circumstances to provide stability before offering to take in the children

Jedi encountering a desperate parent who was already trying to find a way to get a child out of their care before the Jedi arrived for some specific reason (maybe someone who always planned to give up the child for adoption but can’t trust either their family members or the system?)

Jedi actively delaying the guardians giving up a child to make sure they’ve fully considered why they’re doing it, if they’re really sure, to varying final results

In The Living Force, it’s emphasised that upon encountering a force sensitive child in a neglectful orphanage situation, a Jedi should have assessed the whole situation and helped all the children there, rather than just whisking away the Force-sensitive one (and thereby created a situation where the child had a reasonable choice about whether to go or not)

And if you’re thinking “but those seem soo lucky and too good to be true often enough to sustain the order’s population...” then it’s possible that what you actually belive is that the Jedi need to prey on desperation to acquire sufficient children, and if so, you should not be defending that as moral. That is the opposite of a defence of the Jedi.

Personally, I think the Jedi just stumble across and/or work to create the types of situations above—where the guardians actually do enter circumstances where they can consent out of something other than desperation—with greater than average frequency. It’s the will of the Force, destiny, whatever. Simple as that.

Even in the prequels with Anakin, while I do not think it goes far enough in the direction I’m pushing for here, we see Shmi be the one to ask if Qui-Gon can help Anakin after Qui-Gon leaves a conversational opening for it, and then we see Qui-Gon attempt to free Shmi at the same time as Anakin. Even after she implies she might accept Anakin becoming a Jedi if it will save him from the life in slavery, it is still important that she be helped and freed. In her language when Shmi finally sees Anakin again as she’s dying, “now I am complete,” I think it’s reasonable to assume she’s stating that she’s glad the gamble she took letting him go paid off—ergo, she knew she was taking a gamble, not that she was some pathetically grateful recipient of Jedi aid.

If Star Wars were capable of having scenes that intentionally did more than one thing at a time, maybe we could’ve had a scene that did a half decent job of making the improvement of Shmi’s situation essential to the whole interaction on a cultural level (literally just move the “Qui-Gon gave her a valuable object to sell with the understanding she would know what to do from there” plot line someone invented in a comic into the movie itself—use one of Padmé’s dresses lol) rather than using it as something to raise up Qui-Gon’s individual moral status without actually helping Shmi at all.

Helping everyone in the situation so they can actually consent to giving away care of a child has to be essential to the Jedi on a cultural level—not just individual—in order for this to work. I think it is essential to them, and so I try to write that into my stories.

Do you think about what Jedi could actually be, or do you just respond to antis’ talking points with the first idea you can grasp onto? Because the latter can apparently make you say shit like “poor people should give up their kids to other cultures when they can’t take care of them” rather than “everyone should have the resources to be able to take good care of their children.”

And that’s important.

(And just to get ahead of the curve, yes I know that what I’m saying is “some variation of Star Wars would be so good if it was good.” Star Wars fanfic/discourse would also be good if it was good, and unlike the movies, fandom is always in the process of remaking itself. So maybe we could make it good, sometime)

[izzyhandsonthosetiddies]

Here's my take on this. I agree. 10000% But the reason i agree is not entirely related to anything OP said. (Its just by chance i do agree with what they said.) I agree because QUIT LOOKING TO ACTORS AND WRITERS FOR CONFIRMATION OR VALIDATION OF YOUR HEADCANON. Fucking hell i hate this aspect of social media so much. Headcanon is headcanon for a reason. It's meant to be fun. It's not depicted on screen. Just because an actor says something, does not mean that its true to the story. I dont care. Sure, they spent the time learning and becoming the character, but you know what they didn't do? Write the story. I personally dont know what remarks OP is even talking about Con and Rhys are saying, and i love them both, theyre great at what they do, but they dont decide what happened in the show. Death of the author exists for a reason. Once a story is released, what the author or writer or creator says no longer matters. Because art is up to interpretation...and there can be some very wild interpretations that dont even graze the broadside of a barn when they take a shot at it...but it's still their interpretation. The creators and actors dont get to decide for you what the show is about, if you like what they say, fine. Just know it is very unlikely that it is true to the text and is just once again, someone's interpretation. I get it, it can be fun ig to hear the people who played the character support your fun ideas about the character, but at the end of the day, its still a headcanon. Im sorry i couldn't word this a bit more eloquently, but i just...please dont take everything someone who worked on a project says at face value. Art is subjective.

The Erasing of Ed’s Personhood (again).

Some interpretations of Stede and Izzy during the Rhys and Con Q&A at SFROP didn’t sit well with me.

There’s sexual frisson between Stede and Izzy in the candle scene

What canon shows: That Stede flatters Izzy into mentoring him in a similar way Ed uses flattery in 104 when telling Izzy he could be the Captain of the Revenge. It’s knowing your audience and what motivates them. But this isn’t flirting on Stede’s part. It’s emotionally intelligent leadership.

This alleged sexual frisson takes place immediately after Stede has found Ed, the love of his life, whom he has been desperately trying to find for months. For whom he has willingly given everything up. Stede cannot see another man for Ed. Stede’s whole love and sexual awakening is built around Ed. He’s Ed-emotional, Ed-sexual.

And we’re meant to believe the moment Stede is out of Ed’s presence - Ed, who has massive trust issues - that there’s a mutual homoerotic moment between Stede and Izzy, because Izzy has his shirt off and Stede says some dubiously flattering things? It’s reductive towards Ed and mocking of his character. It’s actually an incredibly cruel interpretation. It isn’t the show. It. just. isn’t. the. show.

Izzy is a good mentor to Stede

What canon shows: Stede ‘being the captain’ by asking Izzy to mentor him. Stede is putting into practice ‘keep your friends close and enemies closer’ by trying to give Izzy a role. The devil makes work for idle Izzy Hands, so keep him busy. But punching someone in the stomach, yelling at them, and telling them they have such a total lack of skills you don’t know how they’re still alive… when they rescued your sorry ass two nights previous!…does not a mentor make. And Stede doesn’t learn anything useful really. I mean at least he learned something that saved his life with Ed even if it was through flirting. The fact Stede also seems to enjoy some of Izzy’s approval doesn’t make Izzy a good mentor either. It makes Stede someone who is still wrestling with his identity, and reconciling differing aspects of his masculinity. Stede’s parental trauma causes him to attach too much significance to it.

That Stede and Izzy caused Ed’s decline and have equal responsibility for fixing the man they both love (this one boiled my piss).

What canon shows: Ed is devastated by Stede not turning up at the dock. Ed then processes some of this in a reasonably healthy way — curling up under blankets, eating marmalade, writing doggerel, talking to a friend, crying, showing pain publicly, exploring shared feelings, making a plan to feel better through art (singing), and tidying up his room. Ed is attempting to put into practice Stede’s philosophy: beauty, aestheticism, art as therapy, open emotions, talking it through.

We can’t know what would’ve happened next because the narrative doesn’t bend that way, but without Izzy’s intervention, what Ed doesn’t do is fall into the Kraken spiral. Ed is pretty much forced to a shuddering emotional halt, mid-catharsis - that in itself causes further trauma. Many therapists will tell you that stopping emotional work suddenly can be worse than never beginning at all. On top of that suppression, Ed now fears harm might be done to him should he appear weak. To say Stede and Izzy are equally responsible for Ed’s Kraken spiral is just not true.

Second, Ed isn’t an object to be fixed. Ed isn’t something to be moulded or unfolded. Ed isn’t the exotic plaything of two white men. Ed isn’t a toy or cipher or prize to be won between a bourgeois hero and some proletariat antagonist. Ed really just needs to be left the fuck alone so he can develop some self-actualisation. Let him try his innkeeper dream and fail. Let him see the world doesn’t end when he does. I truly believe Stede is the only individual who can give Ed the room and psychological safety to explore a range of human emotion and identities, as well as providing that soft place to fall when Ed inevitably needs it. And it isn’t even that Ed needs to fix himself. He just needs to be allowed to breathe and be and exist in all his human messiness, judgment-free, fear-free.

That Stede’s crying as Izzy dies shows how much he has grown to care about Izzy, that there is mutual respect, and Stede is left devastated.

What canon shows: That Stede CRIES! He cries all of the time. And I have championed this over and over. He cries in 13/18 episodes. He makes it safe for others to cry. Crying is Stede’s superpower. It helps him process emotions healthily. Stede, I believe, is crying when Izzy dies for the following reasons:

Because he’s Stede

Because he’s the Captain and he didn’t get everyone out alive (doesn’t matter the great Israel Hands can’t check a pocket for weapons).

Because Ed is devastated, and Stede loves Ed

Because Stede isn’t a colossal prick. He says ‘poor bugger’ towards Chauncey moments after escaping execution. Stede’s an empath. Stede understands the pity of it all. Stede can see the intrinsic value in most people, even Izzy. That doesn’t tell me anything about Izzy, but everything about Stede. And it doesn’t make Izzy special to Stede. It makes humans special to Stede.

Why these misinterpretations upset me so much is what it does to the validity of Ed’s characterisation. The idea there’s a sexual ‘knowing’ behind Ed’s back between the two white guys which they choose not to act upon because they decide to work together to objectify and ‘fix Ed’ instead. The idea that Izzy is a better mentor and influence than Ed. The objectification of Ed as a thing to be fixed then won. The appropriation of Ed’s emotional confusion over Izzy’s death being overlaid onto Stede also. Because Ed can’t have his own unique character arc in anything it seems. I just want Ed’s characterisation and personhood to stop being erased.

I’m still sleep-deprived so I hope this makes sense. It’s taken me a while to process.

[cent-scratchnsniff]

something bad did indeed happen to that man. spent abt 25 minutes trying to find a better picture of that one (1) offical piece with his eyes open that wasnt compressed or tiny

[vibrantstarfire]

in terms of skimpy clothes and hypersexualized movements, the hypersexual movements bother me way more. constant boobs and ass poses are so much weirder than fighting in underwear. like, starfire's outfit doesnt actually bother me on its own. it only bothers me if she's drawn moving in a way that doesn't make sense. i care when her movement itself starts to parrot sex and sexuality.

anything can become sexy if you move a certain way in it, and that sexuality will ring true because you're trying to be sexy with certain movements, that's your body and you're far more connected to your body than clothes. but even if you wear straight up lingerie, not every single movement is going to be a hip swinging 2000% cleavage please fuck me pose unless you are literally trying to seduce someone.

you can wear lingerie to a fist fight, but you should still move like you're in a goddamn fist fight.

[narcjsistx]

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐈𝐄𝐖... | sae, kaiser, rin

plot: you get mentioned in one of their interviews, and he's sooo in love with you <3

✶ 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

— sae itoshi

That Sae didn't like interviews was a well known thing, even the journalists were a little worried when they discovered they had to interview him: although he was a prodigy, a talent never seen in years and years of soccer, he was objectively a thorn in the side, acidic and lethal in words as he was with his shots in the penalty area. All the journalists who had dealt with the Japanese prodigy could say, with absolute certainty, that a slap or being fired was less annoying

And today was no exception. ReAl had just won a very important Spanish cup, but one that Sae didn't actually know much about. They simply told him to be himself, and so he did: the result was a landslide victory against the Venezuelan team, 7-1. The match had been over for less than half an hour and he had already been surrounded by journalists, whom he had pushed away with little courtesy as he headed towards the locker room. But one journalist had insisted more than the others, and with a sigh, the boy had dedicated 5 minutes of his time to him

"Exciting victory today, isn't it? Spain had been aiming for this cup for years but they only won it when you had a place in the team" says the journalist, microphone pointed towards Sae. A man, a little further away, held a video camera on his shoulder, pointed towards them. Sae nods, turning away when he swears he hears someone call out to him in a familiar voice. The reporter continues talking, but Sae pays no attention: that voice sounded so familiar

"So that's a yes?" the reporter says, the microphone still pointed towards him. Sae doesn't even know what question he asked him, but the mere fact that he's still here trying to get information out of him bothers him. "What?" he asks raising an eyebrow, and before the reporter even says it, Sae knows it's about you

“Your girlfriend isn't here today, which is strange considering she's always present at your games, even when they're out of town” the reporter says, probably repeating the words he asked him earlier. Sae isn't even surprised by the question, he already knows what he wants to ask him and mentally thanks himself for not answering with 'yes' at the previous question "Is this a sign that you've broken up? There have been rumors for a while that the feeling between you two is over-"

"No. We have not broken up and at the moment, and even in the future, the option is not in mind for either of us" says the boy without thinking for two seconds, taking the edge of the microphone with one hand, so that his words they arrive very straight. The journalist is surprised

Today, for the first time since you've been together, you couldn't come to his game. You actually haven't seen each other in a while, at least a month, and all the speculation that you had broken up had reached Sae's ears. Everything seemed to fit, the perfect breakup after years of a perfect relationship and a wedding ring on the line that Sae had offered you months ago. Everything seemed to coincide with the end of one of the most talked about relationships of the moment

But the reality is that simply, for university reasons, you had to move to Italy for a few months. Sae often came to you, but couldn't stay for whole days due to training... and so, for just over a month, you hadn't seen each other. If the truth wasn't known, you would actually look like a couple who hated each other by now

“Would you tell us more about all the evidence that has been circulating for over a month?” asks the journalist, and the boy already knows in his mind that the interview will not end well if this damned journalist continues to be so interested in something that does not concern him

Sae sighs. He knows that, from your temporary home in Italy, you are watching him. He knows well that every word he is saying you are listening to him. And it's time to make things clear once and for all,or he thinks he's going crazy

"Y/n and I haven't broken up, it's not on our minds and wedding preparations are currently underway. I hate when people seem so interested in something that actually has nothing to do with them, but I understand that it's your job and that's why I'm holding back from going harder on it" says Sae in one breath "My future wife and I don't have anything remotely negative in mind for our relationship, so if you would do me the favor of mentioning her only when there really is a reason, I would be happy" says Sae, and the journalist is suddenly understanding why all his colleagues had told him to stay away from the Japanese prodigy "So, if you really have questions for me about my performance today, I'll try to answer. Otherwise, bye" he says, handing the microphone back to the man, who takes it completely speechless

The camera shows him leaving, hiding the journalist who is still speechless. The camera zoom focuses on the background of Sae's phone, which appears for a few seconds when the boy takes the phone while heading towards the locker room. A photo of you and him cheek to cheek stands out, a small smile breaking across the boy's face as you laugh. With only this proof alone, literally everybody could definitively say that you didn't break up

— micheal kaiser

Micheal was now used to interviews. Since he had actually become someone, someone relegated to Germany's biggest soccer club, interviews had become an everyday thing, like brushing his teeth or kicking the ball as hard as he could during training. He was good looking, he had charisma, he was definitely one of the most pleasant to interview on his team. If the interviewer was a woman he would crack a few jokes, something to make things more interesting. It was objectively flirting with them, but since you had officially become his girlfriend, he had put a stop to these things, out of respect for you

The room was well furnished, he was sitting on a sofa placed in front of the large windows, which gave a view of the great metropolis of Hamburg. You were with him, sitting behind the cameras on a chair placed there at random. He had insisted to the producers that you appear next to him during the interview, but it wasn't possible. His nose was still a little crooked knowing that they got you that beat up chair by sheer luck. You were his empress, the respect they had for him they had to give to you too, and it hadn't happened

He knew that you didn't really care that much, but your respect was something that, at least in front of him, they couldn't miss. But making a fuss just for this didn't seem right at the moment, at most he would have done it after finishing the interview

A woman enters the room, probably only a few years older than him, in her thirties. She looked familiar, and he wasn't sure why he had a bad feeling. The woman approaches, sitting on one of the armchairs next to him. They could have changed your chair for that armchair, why hadn't they done it?

"It's a real pleasure for me to interview you again. It's been a long time since the first time!" the woman says smiling, and from there Micheal finally understands why he felt like he knew her: a few years ago, before he even met you, he did an interview with this woman. The video had gone viral not for the questions, but for the way it was obvious the two of them were flirting with each other. Not that Micheal was really interested, it was just a habit before he met you

Before he can even say anything, a producer announces the start of the interview. The woman smiles at the camera, giving a brief introduction before moving on to a few questions: they are all things related to soccer, Bastard Munchen and the next match against Italy, which will take place in a few weeks. Micheal relaxes his nerves a little to see that nothing has to do with his private life, and turns around to see you from time to time. You smile softly at him, nodding as a sign that he's going well, really everything is going well

But Kaiser relaxed too soon, unfortunately. "Sooo, the internet world has been wondering this for a while... and now seems like the right opportunity to ask it! We're done with soccer questions anyway, right?" the woman says, chuckling, placing a stack of notes on a nearby table, picking up another. Kaiser tilts his head, and for a moment, he thinks these are the usual questions related to his relationship. Nothing new

"Our first interview was four years ago, when you weren't even dating yet. The internet world wondered for a long time if we were together!" the woman says, with a look that Kaiser recognizes: hoe. He turns to you and for a moment he reads some confusion on your face "The interview went so viral that everyone really thought it was a way to reveal our relationship to the world. But it didn't go that way, unfortunately" says the woman

If he wasn't live nationally and if the interviewer wasn't a woman, he would have already crushed her face with his fist. With what logic does she talk about something like that in front of you, his girlfriend? Where's the fucking respect they're supposed to give you but are lacking in every possible way? Everything is going wrong

“It sure would have been a fun thing to do and-” the woman says speaking casually, but the guy interrupts her “Schatz, could you come over here for a sec?” Kaiser says, shifting his attention solely to you, who finds yourself perplexed for a moment. He's breaking every rule possible, but he doesn't care. If he wants you next to him on national live broadcast, the producers will make you stand next to him on national live broadcast

You get up from the chair a little scared, walking among the producers who mentally and not curse Kaiser. You pass the woman who, with an annoyed look, stares at you. With slightly shaky legs you sit next to Micheal, who immediately grabs you putting his arm around your shoulders, pushing your hip against his. You try to smile as best you can in front of the camera, which records everything. Kaiser squeezes your shoulder slightly, and then turns his face back towards the camera "I don't rule out that that interview made me go viral everywhere for months and months, increasing my fame" says the boy "But my behavior was a bit wrong at the time, I was definitely giving attention to people who shouldn't have been..." says Micheal, and while you try to hold back a laugh, the interviewer opens her paralyzed mouth

Kaiser chuckles at the situation, then continues "The attention that I used to give to random people is now received by her, who deserves it all. The mere fact that she accompanies me everywhere is a valid reason to love her, right?" the boy says, squeezing your shoulder again, and you smile in love "She is simply better. It's not even a competition, because she would win before even starting. Maybe if my girlfriend had been the interviewer that time I would say differently now! Maybe I would have already married her, who knows" Kaiser says, and you tilt your head against his shoulder, leaning on him like you always do. You're so damn in love with him

If the producers and interviewer failed to give you respect behind the scenes and also with annoyance, Kaiser will make sure to prove your worth in front of the whole Germany

— itoshi rin

If there was one thing that distinguished Rin from his teammates, it was the ability to turn each of his interviews into a future edit that would become popular on all social media. He was famous, damn famous, every scene of his was edited by millions of people every day. His interviews, for his fans, were the best opportunity to make scenes about him

And since you had been dating, for a few years now, you had suffered more or less the same treatment as Rin. You often appeared in his interviews, you were loved by his fan base, and the edits about you that went as viral as those of your beloved boyfriend

"...the Australian defense this time had to face a much better prepared Japan than last match" says the interviewer, the microphone held out towards Rin. A match has just ended, obviously won by Japan: Rin is still sweaty, his legs slightly weak from running for practically the entire duration of the match. But he's not sick, he's simply tired and he just wants to kiss you

Of course you came to his game, taking a seat in the VIP section of the players' families. It's a habit that, as soon as the match is over, he comes to the VIP section to kiss you, but this time he couldn't: the journalists completely captured him, making it impossible to even move a few meters

"Yes. We decided to change the defense to prepare for Australia's top scorer, who couldn't do anything this time compared to previous matches" Rin replies disinterestedly, looking for you. There are just so many people, so many players or interviewers, but where the hell are you? Didn't something happen to you?

"It must also be said that Japan no longer has any problems in terms of strikers since you joined as an honorary member of the team" says the interviewer, and Rin nods without actually thinking much about what they told him. He just has a strange feeling, he doesn't understand why he isn't seeing you when it's never been difficult for him to find you in a crowd of people

"Any projects in mind at the moment? On a soccer level or on a personal level?" the interviewer asks, but Rin stops hearing him when, a few meters away from him, he sees you: you're a little lost, your gaze curious while you were probably looking for him too. It makes him somewhat tender to see you like this, but he is happy to know that all his doubts about whether something had happened to you are false

"Mr. Itoshi?" the man asks, but Rin takes a few steps forward, not enough to disappear from the camera lens, to signal to you that he's there. It doesn't take you long to notice, running like a little girl in his direction, hugging him as you wrap your arms around his neck, while he places his hands on your hips. "I couldn't find you!" you say laughing, holding onto your boyfriend who holds you close to him "It's the journalists' fault" Rin whispers, leaving a kiss on your cheek before remembering that he's in the middle of an interview. He turns just enough to see that the camera is now perfectly directed towards you, immortalizing the romantic moment between Japan's number one striker and his beautiful girlfriend. The edits will be crazy this time

You notice that the camera is pointed towards you, and a little embarrassed you try to smile without revealing the hint of discomfort "I'll be back later?" you say to your boyfriend, who before you can even finish the sentence, shakes his head as he grabs your wrist "No. You're coming too" he says walking back towards the station, squeezing your wrist affectionately. You follow him, a little embarrassed but it wasn't the first time it happened, so you had gotten used to it

Rin returns to his seat, his arm around your waist ignoring the fact that he almost slipped out of an interview. You stand next to him, your arm behind his back, smiling at the man who now knows both of them "Were you saying?" Rin asks, returning to the interview questions

"Oh, yeah yeah... any projects in mind at the moment? On a soccer level or on a personal level?" the interviewer asks again

Rin thinks about it for a moment. The plans are actually there. He must still become the best of the best, climb to the top and lead Japan to be the strongest team in the world. It simply has yet to break some of its limitations

But there are also other projects. He has to decide when to use that ring he bought more than a few months ago. He must understand when to kneel down and definitely ask you to become Miss Itoshi, his wife. These are mainly his most important projects at the moment

"I still have a lot to do, Japan has to become the most important and strongest team in the world, and maybe I will take on the role of team captain. On a personal level though... I don't know, I just want to continue what I already doing for a while… making her happy every day” Rin says, and you can swear you feel your heart explode

Your boyfriend isn't a big talker, you knew this even before we got together. But the facts speak, and he is doing exactly what he says: every day he makes you happy, and you couldn't be more grateful. His words may seem like nothing, but they mean a lot to you. You simply love him. The interviewer smiles. You turn to Rin and he leans down slightly to kiss you on the nose, making you giggle while the cameras film you

Maybe Rin could use that ring tonight, maybe?

[valeisaslut]

Ellie fucking you with her gun…👅👅👅

loaded worship ₊ ⊹

𖥠 word count: 1.9k 𖥔 ݁ ˖

𖥠 content warnings: top!ellie x sub!reader, porn w no plot, gunplay (r!receiving, consensual, unloaded, treated as a kink object), oral fixation (licking/sucking gun), AFAB!reader, cursing, pet names, spit kink, mild choking, degradation + praise, overstimulation, power dynamics, brat taming, MEN AND MINORS DNI, likes and reblogs are deeply appreciated 𖥔 ݁ ˖

it starts, like it always does, with you mouthing off.

ellie’s at the edge of the bed, legs spread, perched in a chair that’s more throne than furniture. the window’s cracked open behind her. the clouds blur into the moonlight.

she’s cleaning her gun again—not for protection, not for purpose, but for the meditative rhythm of it. something ancient in her hands, like a priest with a chalice.

and you—bratty, barely clothed in a paper-thin tank and those sleep shorts she loathes and loves at the same time— are sprawled across the sheets, soft skin glowing under the bedside lamp.

“gonna spend more time with that thing than me tonight?”

your voice is honey-laced venom. flirtatious, syrupy, barbed. she hears the dare in it. she always does.

ellie doesn’t answer right away. she slides the barrel back into place. presses the magazine in, safety flicks on with a soft click. there’s a smile on her lips that doesn’t quite meet her eyes. the kind that says she’s deciding whether to be sweet. or cruel.

“you jealous, baby?”

that voice. low and warm and mocking, but still so tender it hurts.

“maybe.” you stretch, belly tight, spine arching in a way that’s downright pornographic. “it’s prettier than me.”

her head lifts. one eyebrow raises. her gaze cuts you in half.

“nothing’s prettier than you.”

you roll your eyes.

and that’s it. the eye-roll, the little sigh, the careless way you flop onto your back like you’re bored. like she doesn’t have her trigger finger twitching. like she doesn’t wake up every morning already wet just from the thought of shutting you up.

she sets the gun down.

softly.

like it's not the most dangerous thing in the room.

“come here.”

there’s a change in the air. you feel it like a shift in pressure. her voice is velvet-wrapped steel—low, calm, lethal. not angry, but simmering. inevitable.

“ellie,” you murmur, but you’re already moving.

“no,” she says again. “come. here.”

she’s spread out in that chair like she owns even the air you're breathing. tattooed arm draped over her thigh. pupils blown wide. the slow smirk of someone who’s been waiting all day for an excuse.

“you got a lot to say tonight,” she murmurs when you get close. “real mouthy for someone who couldn’t stop begging ten minutes ago.”

“wasn’t begging,” you whisper, breathless. fake confident.

she tilts her head. hums low in her throat.

“nah. you were whining.”

her hand curls around your wrist and tugs you into her lap. you’re not even sure how you end up there — her fingers are hot against your skin, her thigh spreads you open instinctively. she kisses you once, deep and slow, like she’s claiming her prize. then she leans back.

“take your clothes off.”

you blink.

her voice is soft, but the command in it cuts like glass.

“why?”

she smiles.

and picks the gun back up.

“ellie—”

“relax.” her voice is velvet now, coaxing, almost sweet. “you trust me?”

you nod. instantly.

“you like being a brat, huh?” she murmurs. “you like pushing me.”

your heart’s in your throat. “maybe.”

“you want me to show you who you fucking belong to?”

a shaky breath. a nod.

and when you comply, you do it slow. ceremoniously. like you’re undressing for god — or something much, much worse. your fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts and panties, peeling them down your thighs with shaky grace. your breath hitches at the chill in the room, the way it grazes over your freshly bare skin. you kick them aside, standing exposed from the waist down — but ellie’s still watching. still waiting.

your hands reach for the hem of your tank. soft cotton, now clinging with sweat. you pull it up, slow enough to feel her eyes follow the motion. over your ribs, your chest, your shoulders. when it finally leaves your body, you’re stripped to nothing — and that’s when it hits.

you feel it.

the weight of her stare. like a spotlight. like heat crawling over every inch of you. ellie’s not just looking, she’s devouring. the kind of look that makes you feel like prey, like art, like her favorite sin all at once. it makes your skin burn. your pulse skip. your thighs press together on instinct, already aching.

she doesn’t speak.

she just spins the gun in her hand with the ease of long practice—as if she was born with it, the ritual of cleaning and handling the only thing that steadies her. it twirls in her palm once, twice, catching the light as it flips , and then lands barrel-down in her open hand. her thumb brushes the safety. her fingers curl around the grip.

she’s still watching you.

you’re completely bare. she’s fully clothed. legs spread, eyes dark. the contrast makes you feel tiny. and impossibly turned on.

"you look like a dream,” she murmurs, her gaze pinning you in place like a knife to the throat. there’s a smirk playing on her lips — cocky, slow-burning — but her eyes are pure fire.

she spins the gun in her hand again and lets the barrel rest on her open palm.

“spit.”

“ellie—”

“spit on it.”

she doesn’t blink. and you —shaking now, lips parted— obey.

saliva hits the black metal, slick and hot. it glides down the barrel in the most obsene, wicked way imaginable.

ellie groans, quiet. pleased.

“fuck. good girl.”

she uses her thumb to smear it in. sensual, fucking indulgent.

“turn around.”

and you do. breath hitched. you straddle her lap with your back to her chest, thighs spread wide, cunt wet and aching. every inch of you is electric.

she nudges the barrel between your legs. just a tease. the steel is cold and slippery now, coated in spit and tension.

“still think she’s prettier than you?”

“n-no.”

“you gonna behave now?”

“i’ll try.”

she laughs against your neck.

“cute. too bad i don’t want ‘try.’ i want a 'yes'.”

and then she presses the barrel inside you.

your body jolts like it’s been shocked, the cold metal punching the breath from your lungs. it’s an unnatural stretch, one you've never felt before — not wide, but so precise. so smooth. it doesn’t flex. it doesn’t give. it fills you with the weight of power, the absolute certainty that you are being claimed, not fucked. your muscles clench instinctively, helplessly. the coolness burns as it warms inside you, the safety ridge dragging ever-so-slightly against your entrance, sending jolts up your spine.

ellie’s eyes are locked on your face, watching the transformation. the way your expression flickers from shock to lust to devotion.

she pushes in deeper, not rough, just deliberate. your thighs quiver around her lap. your cunt is already dripping, coating the slick metal in heat and want.

“jesus,” you gasp, nearly choking on it.

ellie grins, her voice a dark ribbon in your ear.

“nah, baby. not him.”

she begins to move. slow, sinful thrusts. the steel slides in and out, obscene and perfect. your slick is making it glide now, every drag sending aftershocks through your belly. it’s mechanical and intimate all at once. humiliating and holy. you’re spread wide on her lap, completely open, held still by her arm wrapped tight around your waist.

“this what you wanted?” she whispers. “you like being used like this?”

you moan. “yes—”

“like my little toy? like a wet fuckin’ hole?”

“yes—yes—”

your hips are rocking now, chasing it. chasing her.

“needy thing,” she breathes. “so fucking desperate. you gonna come like this? on my gun?”

“please, ellie—please—”

she lets out a groan. fucks it into you a little deeper. her free hand wraps around your throat, pulling you upright against her chest. your head falls back and your breath breaks.

“you hear yourself?” she murmurs. “you gonna remember this next time you wanna mouth off.”

she fucks you harder, a little rough now. precise. measured. like she knows every angle of your body, built it with her calloused hands just to use it like this.

you’re shaking.

“say it,” she growls.

“i’m yours,” you sob.

“again.”

“i’m yours—i’m yours—”

and then it hits you — a high so sharp it feels like lightning cracking down your spine. your body spasms. thighs clamp, back arches, a broken sob escaping your lips as you shatter. it’s not just release — it’s surrender. full-body, soul-deep, trembling surrender. you’re crying, and you don’t even realize it. your voice breaks open in a moan that borders on a whimper, like the pleasure was too much for you to carry.

ellie doesn’t stop. she fucks you through it — slow, possessive thrusts, making you feel every inch of the steel inside you, every twitch of your cunt around it, every aftershock that ripples through your core. her mouth is hot on your neck, mouthing filth against your skin like prayers.

“that’s it, baby,” she breathes. “that’s my girl. coming on my fucking gun like you were made for it.”

your body slumps against her, boneless. still twitching. still clenching around nothing when she finally eases the barrel out of you. the drag is slow —so slow— and the loss leaves you whimpering, your cunt fluttering around emptiness, dripping with slick and spit and the remnants of your orgasm.

ellie looks down at you like she’s just unearthed a masterpiece.

“fuck,” she mutters, reverent. “look at this mess.”

your thighs are soaked. your stomach rising and falling like you’ve run for your life. your cheeks are damp, lips parted, eyes barely focused.

she slides the gun slowly along your stomach, your chest, your neck, painting your release on your skin like a signature. deliberate, crude, worshipful.

then she leans in and presses a kiss to your neck — soft, warm, tender in the aftermath.

“mine,” she murmurs.

you nod, dazed. dizzy. your body’s humming. you don’t think you could move if you tried.

and then —slow as a ritual— she lifts the gun to her mouth.

you watch, hypnotized, as her tongue parts her lips. she licks a long, filthy stripe up the length of the barrel, tasting your slick like it’s a holy thing, worshipping the altar of your body even after she’s already made you come undone. her eyes flutter shut for half a second, lashes trembling. she hums low in her throat, a sound that vibrates through your chest like a second orgasm blooming.

and then she parts her lips wider — and takes the barrel into her mouth.

your breath catches. your knees almost give out.

she doesn’t break eye contact. not once.

it slides past her tongue, slow and obscene. her lips wrap around the metal like it’s your cunt she’s sucking. she moans around it, and it’s not just a show—it’s real, messy, shameless want. her spit mixes with your slick, glistening at the corners of her mouth. the sight is nothing short of devastating. your stomach twists.

her free hand slides between your legs, presses two fingers inside you without warning.

you cry out, overstimulated, needy.

“shit.” she says around the barrel, pulling it out with a soft wet pop. “sweetest fucking thing in the world.”

she sets it aside like it’s holy. it’s much more sacred now that it’s been inside you.

then she grips your chin. firm but gentle. tilts your face back so your eyes meet hers — pupils blown, lashes damp, lips trembling.

“get on the bed. gonna fuck you for real now.”

⭒ perm taglist (tysm for supporting, hope you enjoy <3): @talyaisvalslutsoldier @miajooz @andiemiaswife @mayfldss @sewithinsouls @coastalwilliams @hotpinkskitties @ssijht @pleasejoel @pariiissssssss @liddy333 @beeisscaredofbees @d1catwhisperer @the-sick-habit @elliescoquettegirl @elliewilliams-wife @yueluv3rrrr @your-eternal-muse @ellies-real-wife @katherinesmirnova @ellies-moth-to-a-flame @thxtmarvelchick @natscloset @lesbiansreverywhere @2against3 @wwefan2002 @ilahrawr @harmonib @piastorys @azteriarizz @starincarnated @natssgf @ukissmyfaceinacrowdedroom @iadorefineshyt @claudiajacobs @urmomssideh0e @kingofeyeliner @womenlover0 @ferxanda @imunpunishable @elliewilliamsloverrrrrrrr @bambi-luvs @maru0uu @mikellie @gold-dustwomxn @nramv

࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ PURE. FILTH. IM SHOKED WITH MYSELF. THE PARTS OF A GUN TAB IS STARING AT ME. AND JUDGING. huge HUGE HUGE love and tysm to my gorg mootie who sent this amazing request before i even started collide—you live in my brain rent free forever bby!

i might play around with a few more fics + requests before launching the next big series i’ve been outlining (👀), so stay tuned babes. ily all dearly ♡

credits for divider: @kodaswrld <3 – images from pinterest - edited by me

[hollyoongs]

𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐓 ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡's 𝗩𝗘𝗥 !

prólogo You never thought that seeing your boyfriend in a sleeveless denim outfit, his shiny skin from the sweat and the cocky smile he made in each performance could generate a single thought. "What would it look like on the floor of your room?" [MASTERLIST]

elenco yang jungwon x f!reader

género smut with plot

antes de leer slightly mean dom!jungwon and submissive reader (they are so fucking horny) unprotected sex (reader is on the pill but there's no party without a birthday hat!), fingering, oral (both), riding, spit, choking (use of an object: bandana), dirty talk (mixed with praise), degradation at it's peak, petnames (baby, princess, slut, whore), daddy kink, breeding, squirting.

# palabras +2.9k

You have never wanted more for Jungwon to get off the stage, take you backstage, and fuck you senseless just like you are right now.

All the members were putting one hundred and one percent of their energy into the performance. You couldn't believe all this was happening, and you could make sure that even they themselves still didn't believe they were performing at Coachella, but they did. After so much effort and dedication achieved, you can say that they finally reached one of the many goals that they set for themselves.

But watching your boyfriend from the first row was something else; he got a slight modification on his outfit that made his arms visible, but he shone more than any garment he could wear. His sleeveless jacket clung to his skin in all the right places, giving the perfect view of his flexed arms every single time he had to dance, shiny due to the sweat.

Oh, and he fucking knew you were watching him. Otherwise, why would he have that cocky smile on his face?

Every time Jungwon passed by your side of the stage, his gaze would flicker to you—brief yet teasing. You felt your throat sore from all the screaming, your arms practically begging to rest from holding your phone up high for so long, and your body just wanted to lie down.

The only correct answer? There was no way in hell you'd stop. The set was almost over. You could tell by the way the members were pushing themselves even harder for 'Brought the Heat Back.' Jungwon's jaw was clenched when his solo was up, his hair damp and messy, strands sticking to his forehead and temples, looking wrecked in the most beautiful way.

The proud smile on your face was obvious as the lights dimmed and you left the stage quickly, even more so after hearing positive things from locals behind you that were watching them for the first time. You had to wait a moment before moving in the wave of people to the side entrance, hiding yourself from sasaengs that were near and eyeing everything.

After showing the security your pass, he nodded as he let you through. You were guided to the backstage and watched all seven members thanking all their staff for a successful first show. Jungwon was giving you his back, and Jay noticed you, tapping Jungwon's shoulder to get his attention and pointing you out.

The smile was now soft, eyes shining the moment he saw yours tearing up. Jungwon didn't even bother pretending to be chill about it—his feet quickly made their way towards you, his arms wrapping around you tightly.

"You were insane out there," you whispered in his ear, receiving a nod from him. You could hear his sigh, something he used to do when he wanted to prevent himself from crying. He broke the hug, his hands remaining on your waist as he leaned closer to finally kiss you, receiving whistles and screams from the rest.

You couldn't help but smile in the middle of the kiss, Jungwon's lips curving against yours as he pulled away just enough to see his shy smile.

"Jungwon, we are about to record for the 'EN-EPISODE'; be careful." said the manager with a kind smile, and Jungwon took your hand to go to a more private place. It was outside the big tent, but it was enough.

"Now, real question. How long would you take to go to my place?" You asked, your hands on his triceps to squeeze them slightly. He gave you a small smile as his hands went back to your waist, just a little lower this time.

"Honestly? Two hours, they want to do some interviews and videos, and we are doing a Weverse live after Coachella." You pout a little; you knew it would happen, but deep down you believe you had time with him. His fingers lifted your face by your chin and gave a quick peck. "Why the question?"

"Wanted to reward you."

He blinked at you—just once—before raising one of his eyebrows and tilting his head to the side. You could feel how the fingers on your waist tightened slightly.

"Oh yeah? What kind?"

"Can't tell, baby." Jungwon exhaled sharply through his nose, hands slipping just a little lower again, fingertips grazing over the waistband of your denim shorts. Your view went to the bandana around his arm, your fingertip poking it softly. "Just make sure you bring this with you."

"You're evil," he muttered, the smirk still plastered on his face as you laughed a little.

"Learned from the best." It was very short. The moment before Jungwon cut the distance between the two of you, his hand was firmly on the back of your head, the kiss was passionate and a little messy, and his other hand finally arrived at your ass before smacking it lightly. You couldn't hold the whine that escaped from your throat, your mouth open, and Jungwon took that sign to suction your tongue.

His lips finally parted from yours with a soft, wet pop, and he looked at his phone that was vibrating in his jeans. A message from Heeseung to say the final 'goodbye' for the video and start the other activities. "Fuck."

You laughed again as you cleaned the corner of his mouth, both of your lips swollen. "I have to go," he said.

"I know," you breathed, still clinging to him just a little. "I will be waiting."

He gave your cheeks a few kisses before he went back inside the tent, a staff member appeared again and guide you to the exist carefully. Now you had to kill time, two hours to be more specific.

You were amazed at how your neck didn't hurt, considering how many times you had turned your head to check the clock on the wall. Two hours never felt so long—but at least you sent a suggestive picture to your boyfriend after leaving the shower.

You had changed into something a little more comfortable, a baby blue satin slip dress that he bought you, when your phone notified you of a message from him. "On my way."

You tried to distract yourself in every way possible, cleaning up imaginary messes, fixing your hair and adding some gloss on your lips, even spraying a little more of the perfume he always loved to bury his face in.

When the knock finally came, you barely let him finish before opening the door. A black hoodie, grey sweatpants, hair still slightly damp from a quick shower, and the bandana—that was the first thing you noticed—wrapped around his wrist.

The door had barely shut before his hands were on you, your back pressing against the door to shut it completely, lips crashing into yours. You could feel the urgency in it, urgency that you also had.

His hands were south, his long, dainty fingers gripping your ass, a clear signal for you to jump and wrap your legs around his waist, his strong arms under your thighs for support. You were starting to become a moaning mess; maybe it was the heat of his mouth, or it could be the not-so-gentle scrape of his teeth when he sucked your bottom lip like he missed the taste of you—but it made your entrance wetter by the second.

"No underwear? Fuck you."

"I'm trying," you said breathlessly, winning a laugh from him in the middle of it. With one hand, he made sure your door was fully closed before he carried you effortlessly, mouth back on yours, the kiss turning way more messy than before.

Your fingers tugged the bandana from his wrist, letting it fall to the bed as you buried your hands in his hair. He laid you down on the bed like something precious, but the hunger in his eyes said otherwise.

You supported yourself with your elbows as you watched him take off his shirt and hoodie at the same time; his "V" line caught your attention while he was tossing the clothes somewhere behind him. Lean muscle, a sculpted chest, and a face that someone would actually think he doesn't even kill a fly.

"You're staring." Your eyes went to his; you didn't break eye contact when your hands traveled to the waistband of his pants. You lowered it enough to catch two things: the fact that he was also not wearing underwear and how his cock was already leaking pre-cum.

"Somebody missed me…" you teased, gaining a small eyeroll from him. His left hand went to his cock, and his tip met your lips, tapping on them.

"Open up." You did as he said, tongue out, waiting peacefully to have it in your mouth. Once the tip of his cock met your mouth, you started to suck on it, hollowing your cheeks a little as your tongue swirled around his head. The salty and warm flavor had you moaning softly, the sound vibrating against him and making his breath hitch.

"Fuck," he muttered, one hand gripping the back of your head, not to force, but to steady himself properly. His hips gave a small, involuntary thrust forward, and you let him. Your eyes flicking up to meet his again as you took him deeper.

His parted lips, brows furrowed as he was consumed in pleasure, and chest rising fast to control his own orgasm made him look beautifully wrecked.

"You look so pretty like this," he rasped. "Taking my cock so well."

Your hand instantly wrapped around the base of it, stroking in time with the way your mouth moved on him. You could feel the tension in his thighs before he pulled out slowly, a string of saliva and pre-cum connecting your red, swollen lips to his tip, and you licked it away with a grin.

"You are such a tease," he said before his mouth crashed into yours again. You could feel the need to taste him on your tongue that made you whine and close your legs, your clit aching almost painfully. You didn't notice his fingers gliding through your soaked folds until he gave a small pinch to your sensitive bud.

You startled, and he simply smiled. "God, you're dripping," he said against your lips. "I barely touched you."

Your breath hitched as two of his fingers slipped inside you, curling perfectly and touching that sweet spot that made you throw your head back in delight, your hands now gripping the mattress below you two for dear life.

Your legs were already trembling as he worked you open, lips moving down your jaw, your neck, and then to your cleavage—kissing, licking, and gracefully sucking at the sensitive skin until you were gasping his name.

Then his fingers were gone, and you whimpered at the loss, but he was lying on the bed after taking off his pants and shoes. Since you knew what it meant, you put your legs at each side of his head, slowly taking the dress off your body, watching how he licked his lips the moment your dripping pussy was on top of him, clenching around nothing.

His hands gripped your thighs immediately, holding you in place with his eyes locked on your swollen center.

"Look at this," he muttered, almost to himself. "This pretty pussy wants my attention."

"Come on, baby. You earned this." Your hand found the headboard to steady yourself after your said that, but all control that you thought you had left your body the second his tongue flattened against your folds. Your loud and shameless moan combined with the groan he did.

He licked again, a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, repeating the motion again—this time focusing on flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves until your thighs were practically shaking on either side of his head, and he noticed it.

"You like riding my face, baby?" His voice sent vibrations right through your core, and you could swear that your knuckles were white from all the strength you used to hold yourself. "Then do it. Fuck yourself on my tongue. Don't stop unless I say so, princess."

Your stomach clenched at the command, and you simply obeyed—carefully grinding down, hips rolling over his mouth as he groaned once again like a man starved. You could feel his firm hands on your thighs doing everything but letting you loose—just on the edge of bruising.

He sucked your clit into his mouth without a warning, and your hips bucked, a broken cry falling from your lips.

"Yes—daddy!"

The nickname gained you a spank, one that also made you moan.

"Too much?" he asked, still working you. "Then get off. Go on."

You didn't move. You actually couldn't. You were a disaster, shaking, panting, legs like jello as the heat built faster than you could handle.

"That's what I thought," he smirked. His hands went to your hips to push you up just enough for him to sit, his back touching the headboard, and he slowly made his way down. It was embarrassing how easily he got his dick inside you.

"Fuck, I was about to cum."

"Then cum on my dick, princess." One of his hands took a strand of your hair to put it behind your ear. He then put both of his hands behind his head, a resting position to enjoy the moment. Cocky bastard. "You said I earned it, right?"

"You did such a good job on stage." Your hips start slowly going back and forth at the thought of him hours before. "You looked so hot."

"Did I?" You closed your eyes and nodded eagerly.

"I want you to pick me from the crowd and fuck me there." Your hands went to his shoulder to start a pace. He moaned louder; that filthy sentence rolling off your tongue so easily made his dick twitch inside you.

"Fuck, you are such a messy little slut for Daddy." His hands were again on your hips, helping you ride him. His fingers were digging into your flesh as he started guiding your hips into a rougher rhythm, making your nails sink into his shoulders. "Say it again,"

He demanded, eyes locked on yours. "Say what you want Daddy to do."

You could barely manage a whimper, your mind fuzzy from how full you felt.

"I want you to pull me from the crowd, bend me over the nearest surface, and fuck me in front of everyone." He suddenly pulled you out, manhandling you into being on all fours.

From the corner of your eye, you saw how he took the bandana, putting it around your neck, your back completely arched as he once again slammed his dick inside you, a broken moan at the feeling of the delicious intromission.

"Bend like this? You want to be used like that?" he growled against your ear. "Want everyone to see how I fuck you so good?"

"Yes, Daddy!" you cried out, the minimum lack of oxygen increasing the pleasure you were seeing". He used the new angle to fuck you even deeper—every snap of his hips making your moans rise in pitch every single time.

After a few minutes, the grip of the bandana left your neck, making you gasp for air, only to change your position. Now you were facing him from beneath, his hand gently wrapping around your throat—not squeezing, just letting you feel the pressure of it. "You look so pretty wrapping me around your tight little pussy, baby."

Each thrust he made, his pelvis grinded against your clit just right. You were starting to feel that familiar knot that was about to snap in any second. "Open your mouth again, baby. You earned something too for being so good to me today."

Your mouth opened, and you saw his saliva slowly going down to your tongue. He couldn't control how filthy you looked swallowing that, and then he kissed you, his hips non-stop. Your mouth opened, drool coming from the corner of your mouth, and your eyes fluttered shut.

“Are you going to cum just from getting fucked like this?”

Your body jerked beneath him as he drove into you again, angling even more perfectly to hit that spot inside you that made your back arch. You could barely form words anymore—just gasps and broken moans.

“That tight little pussy’s begging for it. Do it. Cum all over Daddy’s cock.”

Your body obeyed, breaking apart as your climax crashed through you alongside him—loud and messy. You shook in his arms, crying out his name, your walls milking him.

Despite your orgasms, he still kept going. He flipped you on all fours again without warning, cock still buried inside you, and slammed back in with a growl. His mouth was giving kisses on your shoulder in a possessive manner.

“I’m going to fill you up,” he growled. “I’m going to make sure you’re dripping with me for days.”

Unlike the first orgasm, this one felt a little too familiar. You were crying again, head spinning as you felt the second orgasm and a big wave of overstimulation. It took you a final, deep thrust to squirt all over his dick, his whole body tensing as he continued to spill inside you, hips twitching through the aftershocks.

He got off of you, watching how his cum was dripping down your thighs alongside your squirt. "Good fucking girl, princess."

Both of you were breathless, drenched in sweat, but it was completely worth it. Because once again, he earned it so well.

TAGLIST (OPEN): @heesexual74 @vixialuvs @riqomi @beomgyus11 @starry-eyed-bimbo @rawrrxan @veilstqr @k1ttyjwon @fancypeacepersona @kittympirty (COMMENT TO BE ADDED)

─── HAPPY ENCHELLA WEEK ngl, i have never wrote something this freaky in a WHILE, but I hope you enjoy reading it, see you tomorrow for Heeseung's one <3

THIS ONE IS DEDICATED TO MY BIRTHDAY GIRL @intromortal happiest birthday love 💗‼️

[chocolilies]

─── messy sheets. ꒱

( ୨ৎ. roronoa zoro x fem!reader. . .ᐟ

one of zoro's many favourite things about dating you is how you pick up on each other's mannerisms.

◟ꪆ୧ nsfw (afab!reader, thigh riding, groping, fingering) porn with a tiny bit of plot, though the plot is mostly fluffy! based on this request! spreading my titty fiend!zoro agenda... reblogs and comments are appreciated a lot!! (⁠ʃ⁠ƪ⁠＾∇⁠＾) !

w.c : 3.2k.

also on ao3 + op masterlist !

“don’t ever come back here again!”

“you don't own the ship, asshole! I'll go wherever I want!”

dodging a kitchen knife, zoro slammed the door to the galley shut, stomping down the corridor as anger seethed through him. 

“can’t even get a drink in peace,” zoro growled as he clutched at one of his swords, pushing open the door to your room, having half the mind to turn back around and slice the cook up a bit until he set eyes on your bed. 

he found you sprawled out horizontally over the covers, one of his too-big-for-you shirts pulled over your sleeping body, head falling off of one of the pillows, while you hugged the other tight against your chest. 

now, one thing zoro loved about dating you was seeing just how much you influenced each other. 

when you’d both first joined luffy’s crew, you’d snap and whine at him for napping at the most random intervals of time, kicking him awake or simply complaining very loudly with nami about how he used his free time, driving the swordsman up the walls. 

yet after all that time spent grumbling about his sleeping habits before you’d gotten together (and maybe a bit more after that), here you were. messily spread out on your shared bed with drool running down your chin, taking one of those naps you once objected so much against. 

he held in a laugh, his tiff with the cook fizzling away in his mind as he took in your sleeping figure, the light from the afternoon sun shining into the room and hitting you in an almost angelic way, which for zoro, you were nothing but. 

he carefully propped up his swords against the wall, shaking his shoes off before silently moving towards what you’d both silently agreed on was his side of the bed, though thanks to the way you had moved around in your bed, were now occupied by your bare legs. 

zoro had once heard about how you moved around a lot during your sleep, having heard nami’s complaints about your sleepy kicks or slaps back when you used to share a bed with her, always laughing loudly at the way you would shy away from her in embarrassment, unaware of how squirmy you were asleep. 

surprisingly enough, though, the moment you started to sleep alongside zoro, you stopped moving. maybe it was because of his incredible pain tolerance (since one slap from you would hardly register as painful) that your movements didn’t stir him awake, or maybe it was because of the unyielding grip he had on you the moment his arms found your wriggly body. 

he found it hilarious that it was the latter. 

zoro carefully took both of your ankles in one hand, pushing your legs and subsequently moving your body so you were lying in a more “appropriate” manner, though considering the many times he’d ended up horizontal on a bed, he shouldn't really be judging. 

once he’d made enough space for himself, he let go, kneeling on the mattress before pulling his shirt and haramaki off, polloping himself down on the bed as soon as he’d flung them across the room (something he knew he’d get reprimanded for later).

a grunt left him as he tried to get comfortable, arms immediately spread out instinctively to find your body, wrapping them around your waist and dragging you across the already messy covers into his chest. 

you let out a whine as the rough movements forced you to let go of the pillow you’d been cuddling, though seemed to immediately calm down once you subconsciously realised whose arms you were now in. 

“messy girl,” zoro murmured as he looked around the state your bed’s covers were in after what he assumed had been less than an hour (he clearly recalled you screaming at luffy for something or other a bit before he’d wandered into the kitchen), craning his head so he could press a sloppy kiss against your cheek. “mean, too. napping without me…”

he adjusted the arm underneath you so it was right against your neck, not wanting for you to grow uncomfortable with it digging into your waist, watching as you immediately rested your head against his warm bicep, letting out a soft noise of content. 

his other arm, though, had completely other plans. he moved it from its place around your waist, dragging his hand underneath the oversized shirt of his you’d stolen, placing his warm palm right above the elastic band of your panties, chuckling as your body shivered in response. 

one thing you'd quickly learned about zoro the moment you'd started dating was that he loved your tits. 

he'd once “joked” about throwing all of your bras overboard one day in which you'd walked out of your room without one, eyes trained to your chest each time you walked by, not shying away from showing his attraction to you in that state, though you (and everyone else who had heard his proclamation) knew he was fully capable of doing it. 

zoro's hands were on you every chance you got, taking your tits into his hands and squeezing like they were stress balls, thumb and index slowly working on your pebbling nipples, chin perched on your shoulder and just watching, never making a sound except for the sighs or grunts that would leave him in response to your own whimpering noises. 

sometimes it wasn't even sexual. sometimes he just found comfort in groping you, playing with the flesh as you say in his lap working on something or as a stress reliever after a particularly gruelling battle. 

this, he thought as slid one of his legs between yours, was not one of those times. 

zoro leaned down to press kisses to the exposed skin of your shoulder, leading a trail right up to the spot behind your ear, smirking as you shivered in response to the soft blow of air from his breathing. 

“...’ro.” you mumbled sleepily, hand moving to cover the one that had started playing with your tummy, stirring awake due to his movements, completely different to how zoro could sleep through wars if he wished to. 

“mornin’,” he joked breathlessly into your ear, deciding to continue teasing as he nibbled at your ear lobe, making you squeak and try to move away. “hey, hey, stop moving.” 

“stop bitin’!” you slurred out tiredly, swatting at his face with a huff, knowing it was probably pulled into an annoyingly smug look. 

“can't… ‘specially not when you look this cute in my shirt, all sleepy…” 

“you get turned on by the weirdest things…” you groaned, already feeling his hand start to move up your abdomen, going directly towards his two favourite things. 

his teeth immediately sunk into your neck in response to your little insult, taking advantage of your body's natural reaction to the pain to finally grab at your tits, tugging at your nipple almost immediately, his other arm moving from the position he'd previously put it in to grab at your other tit, not wanting to leave out any of your two girls.

“you’re so pervy, zo… y’re no better than-” your words were cut off as you moaned out in surprise at the immediate attack on your slowly pebbling nipples, the action sending shockwaves through your body, arms lying stiff at your side as you tried to decide what do with your hands, teasing words fizzling away in your mind, too busy enjoying the way your boyfriend was massaging your chest. 

“don't.” zoro growled into your ear with a pinch to your nipples, a high pitched whine leaving your mouth at the little retaliation, knowing full well what was about to leave your mouth, not wanting to think about the perv-cook when he was in the middle of playing with his girl's tits. 

“m-meanie…” you gasped, back arching at the slight pain that accompanied the pleasure that rushed through your body at his actions, feeling the leg that he'd slipped between your own start to move, the coarse material of his trousers along with the pressure of his thigh pressing tight against your panty-clad core. 

“yeah? ‘m just a big meanie?” zoro grunted, licking at the spot he'd previously sunk his teeth in, slowly but surely moving his thigh back and forth, loving the way your tiny frame jumped and shivered at every stimulation he gave. 

“y-yeah-” breathlessly, you started to move down to meet the movements of his stiff thigh, muscles rippling between your legs despite the little effort it took for him to move like this in comparison to you, who was already growing tired from the constant movements without the help like you usually had. 

“this is me being nice,” he licked a stripe up your neck to the spot behind your ear, where he pressed a very uncharacteristically sweet kiss to, your mind flowing with confusion as to how he could focus on kissing, groping and grinding into you all at once. 

well, considering you were dealing with a man who fought with three swords, you shouldn't be surprised at his dexterity. 

each movement of his thigh against where you needed him most sent waves of pleasure through your tired body, and you could anxiously tell that you were leaving a damp spot on his trousers by the way you were dripping, your boyfriend's ministrations enough to get your pussy soaked. 

it also didn't help that each time he pulled his leg forward, his knee would bump against your already throbbing clit, sending shockwaves up your spine and forcing whines out of your wet lips, saliva pooling in your mouth and threatening to slide down your chin like it previously had been doing during your nap. 

“y’really don't want me to be mean,” he taunted, leaving more kisses across the expanse of skin his too-big shirt exposed for him to touch, fingers letting go of your already abused nipples, a sigh of relief leaving your parted lips at that, focusing instead on groping at the rest.

at your lack of response, zoro grinned, basking in the sounds you were making before he slid his leg out of yours, not missing the way they immediately tried to press down onto it, a horrified sound leaving you at the sudden lack of pleasure. 

“z-zo!” you exclaimed, trying to turn around to look at him, but by the way he had you pressed tightly against, you found that movement to be impossible. “wh-what was that for?” 

your whines were music to his ears, ignoring the way you were squirming in his arms, though his hands continued to play with your tits. “what was what for?” 

he acted like he hadn't just put a pin in your pleasure, instead moving to grind his front against your backside, evidence of his growing pleasure pressing into your ass. 

“mean enough for you now?” 

you whined at his taunt, a gasp escaping you as one of his hands let go of your tits, confusion filling you as to what that lonely hand would be getting up to. 

“‘m sorry!” you whined, finding it slightly ridiculous that you were apologising for simply implying that your boyfriend was being mean, though you would've done anything to get that beautiful pleasure back. “please- please…” 

“please what?” you could hear the smirk in his voice, though by the way his hand was already trailing down your stomach towards your soaked cunt, you knew you wouldn't have to do any more begging except to please him. 

“touch- touch me, pleaseee…” you begged, even though his index and middle finger were already teasing the spot right above your clit, tracing the soft texture of your panties, trying to discern which pair you'd worn that day. 

“there's my girl.” he grinned, pride filling him up as he finally got that initial brattiness out of you, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek as his fingers went up to the elastic band of your underwear, reaching his hand under it and running over your pubic hair, fingers sliding right between your soppy folds. 

your breath hitched in your throat as he immediately found your tiny bundle of nerves, already an expert on how your body worked and what you needed from him, rubbing slow circles into it like he knew you liked, a sharp contrast to the way he'd previously been grinding his leg against it. 

your legs twitched with every movement, your pleasure picking up from where he'd left off, tummy growing warm as he toyed with you, and though you could feel yourself slowly making your way up to your orgasm, you knew zoro wouldn't let you cum just like that. 

“shit, she's a messy girl, jus’ listen to her…” he murmured, referring to the sounds your cunt was making with every move of his finger, adding a second one in hopes that the cacophony of sounds would increase. 

“don't teaseee…” you drawled out, lolling your head back against his shoulder as he peppered kisses all over you, sliding his fingers around the erogenous zones around your clit, sparking pleasure all over you. 

“‘m not teasing.” he grunted, his hips jerking slightly to make contact with your ass, rubbing his erection against you in tandem with his own fingers, though still completely zeroed in on your pleasure. “I jus’ know what she wants.” 

you puffed out your cheeks, though whatever you were about to snap back died in your throat as he finally slid his fingers down to your soaked entrance, teasingly running his fingers around the ring of muscles. 

“fuck, y’feel tight.” zoro groaned, the heel of his palm pressing right into your clit, stimulating your little nub with each twitch of his fingers. 

“gonna fuck me open?” you jeered, out of breath at the continuous amount of pleasure being forced onto your sleepy body, another wave of slick leaving your cunt at the thought of getting fucked. 

“fuck, I wish…” zoro rasped, cock twitching against your back at the shared idea, shaking his head slightly, too comfortable in this position to move around. “not today, though. ‘m just enjoying playing with your little cunt for now.”

he slipped his middle finger into your hole before you could even reply, though he knew you had no qualms with his reply, always admiring his hands and exclaiming how much you loved having them on your pussy. 

his finger immediately found your g-spot, arching it to rub against the spongy spot that made your toes curl, palm still grinding against your clit deliciously. 

“s-so good!” you cried out, one of your hands grabbing at the arm he'd shoved down your panties, nails digging into his tanned skin in pleasure, though no pain registered, too busy playing with your cunt to focus on it. 

“yeah? ‘course it is, it's me.” he said, ego inflating at his own words as you twitched in his arms, slipping another finger into your tight heat to join the attack on your g-spot, his other hand still playing with your tit, warm pleasure building up in your tummy as he worked you out. “‘know you better than anyone.” 

fuck, it almost pissed you off how right he was. 

“no one like me, right?” 

“no one!” you cried out on instinct, moving your hips in tandem with his hand, amplifying the rising pleasure and grinding back on his stiff cock at the same time. “only one for me, zo!”

“atta fucking girl.” he spat out, breathless from the possessive talk and the own pleasure that was rushing through his body, pre leaking from his tip and forming a wet patch against his trousers. “y’close?” 

“mhm!” you shook your head up and down aggressively, moans and whines tumbling out of your mouth as you neared your peak, hand pulling at zoro's arm to alert him of it and ask that- 

“I got you, don't worry.” he sighed, knowing what you wanted before you even said it out loud, pulling his fingers out of you with a loud squelch, pressing his wet fingers against your clit like you wanted and rubbing quick circles onto it, your legs shaking as your hips tried to keep up with the sudden switch in stimulation, though thankful for the help, as it was what you needed to get where you wanted to the most. 

“fu-fuck, zoro! m’so close!” 

zoro knew what that meant. already too familiar with your body and your needs, he knew that that meant to continue whatever he was doing. not to speed up, not to slow down, not to switch techniques, just keep doing what was making his girl scream. 

“it's okay, I got you,” he almost purred, grip tightening on your tit as his hips jutted out to search for stimulation on his leaking cock, although he knew he'd probably be able to cum just by witnessing your orgasm alone. 

“oh god, oh god-” zoro grunted at your words, knowing that he'd usually let out a teasing ‘god’s not fucking you this good, baby’, at your whiny words, smirking as you immediately changed your tune. “zoro! oh, zoro, zoro!

your mouth flew open in a silent scream as you finally reached your peak, riding out your orgasm with help of zoro's fingers, that were quickly covered in slick by the way you'd came, soaking both his hand and your panties, probably even leaking onto the already messy covers. 

you whined as the hand that had been groping you moved to grab at your neck, moving your head painfully to a side so zoro could slot his lips against yours, drinking up your moans and whimpers as you swapped spit, eyes wide open and taking in the way you were falling apart on his fingers. 

you quickly found yourself twitching in overestimation once your orgasm washed away, whining into zoro's mouth, a telltale sign to slowly stop his ministrations. 

“hey, hey…” he shushed you as he leaned back, letting you lie down properly as he propped himself up on the bed, watching you shiver in the aftershocks of your orgasm as he pulled his fingers back from your perky clit, leaning back down quickly to press a kiss between your furrowed brows. “y’okay?” 

you hummed in response, cracking your eyes open to take a look at your grinning boyfriend, his face flushed and sweaty as his chest rose and fell with each quick breath, almost like he'd- 

“zo, just by-?”

“just by seeing you, yeah.” he exhaled, eyes flicking down to his bulge, cock softening against his trousers as he himself came down from his high, bringing the fingers he'd used on you up to his mouth and licking them clean, eyes darting around the room as if he wasn't in the middle of licking your juices off his fingers. 

“don't goooooo…” you whined, knowing he was probably looking for the closest thing he could use to clean you up, much rather preferring cuddles with your boyfriend to a dry cunt. 

you outstretched your arms out to him and made grabby hands, watching as he grinned in response to your need actions, landing on top of you with a grunt and resting his head right on the tits he'd previously been attacking. 

“brute!” you gasped, hands finding solace in his hair and running through his green strands, pouting down at your boyfriend. 

“mmm… next time don't let me suck your tits, unless you wanna see a real brute.” 

[byoldervine]

Types Of Writer’s Block (And How To Fix Them)

1. High inspiration, low motivation. You have so many ideas to write, but you just don’t have the motivation to actually get them down, and even if you can make yourself start writing it you’ll often find yourself getting distracted or disengaged in favour of imagining everything playing out

Try just bullet pointing the ideas you have instead of writing them properly, especially if you won’t remember it afterwards if you don’t. At least you’ll have the ideas ready to use when you have the motivation later on

2. Low inspiration, high motivation. You’re all prepared, you’re so pumped to write, you open your document aaaaand… three hours later, that cursor is still blinking at the top of a blank page

RIP pantsers but this is where plotting wins out; refer back to your plans and figure out where to go from here. You can also use your bullet points from the last point if this is applicable

3. No inspiration, no motivation. You don’t have any ideas, you don’t feel like writing, all in all everything is just sucky when you think about it

Make a deal with yourself; usually when I’m feeling this way I can tell myself “Okay, just write anyway for ten minutes and after that, if you really want to stop, you can stop” and then once my ten minutes is up I’ve often found my flow. Just remember that, if you still don’t want to keep writing after your ten minutes is up, don’t keep writing anyway and break your deal - it’ll be harder to make deals with yourself in future if your brain knows you don’t honour them

4. Can’t bridge the gap. When you’re stuck on this one sentence/paragraph that you just don’t know how to progress through. Until you figure it out, productivity has slowed to a halt

Mark it up, bullet point what you want to happen here, then move on. A lot of people don’t know how to keep writing after skipping a part because they don’t know exactly what happened to lead up to this moment - but you have a general idea just like you do for everything else you’re writing, and that’s enough. Just keep it generic and know you can go back to edit later, at the same time as when you’re filling in the blank. It’ll give editing you a clear purpose, if nothing else

5. Perfectionism and self-doubt. You don’t think your writing is perfect first time, so you struggle to accept that it’s anything better than a total failure. Whether or not you’re aware of the fact that this is an unrealistic standard makes no difference

Perfection is stagnant. If you write the perfect story, which would require you to turn a good story into something objective rather than subjective, then after that you’d never write again, because nothing will ever meet that standard again. That or you would only ever write the same kind of stories over and over, never growing or developing as a writer. If you’re looking back on your writing and saying “This is so bad, I hate it”, that’s generally a good thing; it means you’ve grown and improved. Maybe your current writing isn’t bad, if just matched your skill level at the time, and since then you’re able to maintain a higher standard since you’ve learned more about your craft as time went on

[gffa]

Another "oh SHIT" moment I had while watching Revenge of the Sith in the theaters was that I always had trouble with Palpatine revealing himself to Anakin like that, it felt so clunky and awkward and I just chalked it up to George Lucas saying so himself, that he writes scenes to move the story along. I love his work, but he's not always the smoothest writer. "But why would Palpatine reveal himself like that? Just blurt it out, knowing that Anakin wants to kill him? Because Anakin very much did want to kill the Sith Lord they'd been searching for! Knowing that Anakin might very well go tell the Jedi about him and they'd have an excuse to fight him directly?? He's usually so much more careful than that! This is just silly!" But thinking about Palpatine's masterful manipulation of Anakin in the other scenes (his story about Plagueis being designed to crack Anakin's moral foundation, his forcing the Jedi to put Anakin on the Council knowing they would object and use it to spy on him because he's aware they don't trust him, he says right to Anakin that he knows they're plotting against him and asked Anakin to spy on him, he knew that was what was going to happen, his suggesting Anakin be the one to go to Utapau knowing that they would choose someone better suited to it, etc.) I had a sudden brick to the face moment. Oh, shit, wait, no, he wanted Anakin to go to the Jedi! He wanted them to try to arrest him and then fight him, so he could say they were planning a coup and to force Anakin into a chaotic moment where he had no time to think, only to react, knowing that he would side with Palpatine out of fear of losing Padme. EVERYTHING Palpatine does with Anakin in that movie is a manipulation to get him right where Darth Sidious wants him. Even the parts that seem like he's suddenly overplaying his hand, no, he's doing that on purpose because he's setting up the dominoes so he can knock them down. And he needs Anakin to at least not be against him because, as he says, Anakin will be more powerful than all of them one day. No one can stand against him if Anakin is either with him or off the board by staying behind at the Temple. Because Palpatine has to get rid of the Jedi, it's not just revenge, it's because they're the only ones who can actually rival him. He may be one of the strongest Force users in the galaxy, but even he couldn't stand against 10,000 of them, especially not if Mace may very well have actually won that fight without Anakin's interference. Whatever happened, he needed to force that confrontation and he did it in the way that appealed to Anakin to save him, because he knew the Jedi wouldn't let him live, and Anakin might fight him, but he wouldn't do so whole-heartedly if Palpatine was making sad grandpa eyes at him and saying, "I beg you, use my knowledge to save Padme." That reveal isn't a scene written just to move the movie along, it's another chess move by Palpatine to force the situation into the end game, now that Dooku and Grievous were dead and he wanted his Empire to rise now.

[specshroom]

•The Queen of Curses•

Part 1 / Part 2

(Ok So think of this as like a Sukuna wins and everyone dies AU lol. True form! Sukuna. Added the cursed blood bath for no reason. Suggestive, titty stuff but that's it, MDNI, She/her reader, no use of Y/N)

Sukuna didn't rein over the Heian Era alone. It was always him and his lover, burning and slaughtering together. Their love for eachother was well known across the land. People knew not to be fooled by her less intimidating looks (in comparison to her husband) for she was just as brutal and heartless as he. 

All that changed when sorcerers from the era used all they're combined might to seal the Curse Queen inside a small cursed object, formed only from the combined sacrificed corpses of their comrades. 

They knew that the only way to defeat the King and Queen was to separate them and they succeeded. After hearing of the fate of his lover Sukuna flew into a blind rage leading to his own defeat at the hands of the same sorcerers.

One thousand years of relative peace passed with the two lovers separated but still yearning for each other. 

Luckily for the lovers, the ever devoted Uraume never stopped looking for a way to set their masters free. After centuries of searching and begrudgingly accepting a little help from Kenjaku, they finally found the cursed object that their Queen had been trapped in, a simple orb a little bigger than a tennis ball. It made Uraume's stomach turn thinking of such a powerful force being shoved into such a small thing. They carried the black orb with them everywhere while continuing the plot to releasing Sukuna. They found themselves whispering to it, compelled by the obsidian globe. They didn't know if their master could hear but they felt like it was right, like they could almost sense their masters overwhelming aura, compelling them to spill out everything they know. So Uraume spoke to it quite a lot, telling the dark orb and the beast inside about Sukuna's fate, about the new world, about Kenjaku and the plan to free her and her lover. 

The plan that finally comes to fruition. Sukuna is freed, his true form is restored in all its glory and hes wreaked havoc on most of Shibuya just as a warm up.  Uraume kneels before him.

"Master Sukuna."

 They say bowing their head.

 "Hmm?" 

Sukuna hums an acknowledgement, eyeing them with contempt. 

Uraume brings the dark crystal like ball out of their loose robes and holds it up, presenting it to their king. "Now, with your power fully restored we can release the Queen from her containment."

Sukuna stares at the ball in the sorcerers hand and gestures for Uraume to give it to him. He holds it as gently as his colossal hand is able to. It seems to get hotter in his hand, so hot it would surely sear the skin of a mortal. He pears into the orb only seeing his reflection in it, the Curse king nods to Uraume. He places it on the ground and they both step back, arms reaching out towards the orb on the ground.

In unison they both let out powerful blasts of cursed energy aiming right at the cursed seal. Strong streams of power, one white hot and the other pearcing cold, the orb starts to crack emitting a glowing white light. "It's breaking! Don't stop!" Sukuna orders and Uraume grunts but dutifully follows orders. The cracks grow wider and the light shines brighter before it's too blinding and they both cover their eyes as a powerful blast pierces the air.

In the settling dust stands a figure that's all too familiar to the both of them. They both watch as the figure shifts, leaning back and stretching their arms above their head, releasing a groan that is appropriate for someone who hasn't been able to move much in a thousand years. When the woman finally turns to Sukuna she sighs and smiles, letting out a relieved huff. Sukuna grins triumphantly and opens all four of his arms expecting a tide of thankful affection from his lover. When she takes the first few steps towards him her smile starts to waver until it's down to a grimace. Sukuna tenses as her eyes darken. He opens his mouth to ask what's the matter as she walks up to him and-

*SLAP*

Silence envelops the already desolate atmosphere. Sukuna's head is turned to the side, his eyes wide. He blinks before glaring at the offender with a look that could kill. She stares up at him with eyes just as deadly. 

"HOW COULD YOU LEAVE ME IN THAT FUCKING BALL FOR SO LONG!!?"

Sukuna stares with his mouth open for a second genuinely shocked into silence until that second is over and he responds with equal vitriol. 

" HUH?! THAT WAS YOUR OWN FAULT WOMEN! DONT BE UNGRATEFUL!" 

The two fiery curses glare at each other with such violent intent, the very air around them heats up. 

"WHAT KIND OF SHITTY HUSBAND ALLOWS HIS OWN WIFE TO GET SEALED!"

"YOU CAN'T BLAME ME FOR THAT! DIDN'T I JUST SET YOU FREE?"

"DONT TAKE ALL THE CREDIT YOU BASTARD! URAUME'S THE ONE WHO-" 

As if the women just remembered that the other sorcerer exists, she turns around and there her loyal subject is, kneeling in her presence. 

" Welcome back master, it's good to see you" 

The woman's face brightens up immediately, "Uraume~" She sings running up to the sorcerer and lifting them into a bone crushing hug that would've killed a lesser being. "Oh, Thank you Uraume. My dutiful subject, you did so good." The Curse Queen coos at the sorcerer, squishing their face into her chest and stroking their duel coloured hair. Uraume doesn't hug back as to be respectful of their superior but they don't push back either, just letting their master man-handle (woman-handle?) them. 

Sukuna clicks his tongue at the show of affection and crosses two of his massive arms over his chest. No doubt in disbelief that HIS wife doesn't embrace HIM first after a thousand years spent apart.

The wife in question turns to him with Uraume still in her arms, an irritated look on her face. 

"What's your problem?" 

"My problem is that MY wife is being an ungrateful bitch." 

The benevolent woman stills and Uraume peers up at her from their place, nestled into the cleavage of her loose fitting kimono. The woman sets Uraume down onto the ground gently. She breathes a heavy sigh and in less that a second she's on Sukuna throwing a mass of red hot cursed energy right into his face. He blocks it in time and is able to keep blocking her continuous fast attacks. She gets frustrated and lets out a powerful blast that shakes the earth and forces him to jump back to avoid the blast.

She laughs with relief, finally being able to let out all that pent up cursed energy feels amazing. Her tattoos (similar to Sukuna's but not quite the same) almost seem to glow with the immense energy output being let off from her body. Only the tattoos on her face, neck and wrists are visible but Sukuna knows very well what the rest looks like, having traced every inch of ink with his fingers.

Sukuna takes the opportunity while she's distracted by the pure euphoria of letting her energy loose and comes barreling towards her, she can't react before he tackles her to the ground. He pins her hands down with two of his hands and another goes to roughly grab her jaw.

"Does it feel good to finally let off some steam, Baby?" 

The king of curses teasingly remarks from above her.

"Baby? That's new." She questions with a teasing grin. Her words are a bit slurred from the way her husband is holding her jaw.

"Might as well get with the times." He bites back with an even more cocksure grin. She scratches and kicks at him and bites at his hand. With all her concentration she channels the sheer amount of pent up cursed energy in her body and lets it burst out in a deafening blast that knocks Sukuna off of her. Static reverberates in the air.

In the few seconds it takes for him to recover she takes the opportunity to pounce on him pinning him to the ground. Grinning from her place above him her heavy breaths and beating heart match his. Her crazy, alert eyes meet four others with the same sentiment.

"I missed you so fucking much." Sukuna says before he pulls her by her robes into a deep kiss. The kiss is somehow aggressive and sensual.

Two of Sukuna's massive hands go to her waist and thigh holding her body to his as he sits up. The third hand is on the floor for balance and the last is tangled in her hair pressing her further into the kiss, as if that's even possible. Both Cursed beings are glad that they don't need to breath or else they surely would have suffocated each other by now. 

The queen of curses has never been more pleased by the fact that her husband doesn't seem to know what a shirt is. Sukuna has voiced many times that he wished his wife shared the same sentiments only for her to scoff at the suggestion, although, now she thinks the idea is one of the best he's ever had.

They fight for dominance with their tongues. Still locked in the passionate sloppy kiss the woman unlatches her hands from his hair to slip off the robes she was wearing over a loose fitting kimono. She unwraps the black accented white Kimono, rather slowly in sukunas opinion to let her breasts fall free to the warm air. 

Sukuna releases his mouth from hers, licking his spit slicked lips to stare down at his beautiful wife's beautiful tits.

"Yeah, remember these are mine. Only mine." Sukuna grumbles lowly before smooshing his face right between them, sighing deeply like a thousand year old itch has finally been scratched.

"Aww, is Ryō a little jealous?" The woman preens in a patronising manner while lightly stroking his fluffy hair.

"Poor baby~" She coos, repeating the pet name he used for her. Her teasing only gets a glare and a growl from the beast of a man currently buried in her tits, holding her impossibly closer to his face.

She chuckles down at him, a loving yet menacing look in her eyes.

"Well maybe I should let Uraume- where did they go?"

She looks around the scorched city landscape looking for her white haired subordinate and as if they heard her words summoning them they appear with a respectful bow.

"I have made the preparations for your bath."

"Thank you, Uraume~"

The woman beams and turns to the man who is still occupied with her tits, he's now picked a tit to suckle on, fondling the other in his rough hand.

"come now Ryo, it's time for our bath." She says curtly and the man groans with his mouth full, absolutely dreading even the idea of his tongue leaving the hardened nipple he's been sucking on. If the two objects poking her ass are any indication if it was up to him they would never get to the blood bath Uraume so kindly set up for them.

She tries standing up and pulling away but the man is latched on tightly, all four arms clutching around her as if they never want to be an inch apart from her again. The more she struggles the bigger the two chubs in his pants grow. She sighs and struggles once more.

"Uraume planned this out very nicely for us, Ryomen. Just do what I say Damnit!"

She pulls at his hair and he bites down on her tit in response, earning a yelp and a harsh smack on the head from her. He laughs, not with the mouth on her tit but with the mouth on his stomach. She peers down at it, as if she just remembered it's there. Without wasting more time she grabs the large tongue crushing it with her grip and tugging on it hard.

Sukuna releases her tit to yell out in pain.

"OW, WOMAN! You should be grateful for every ounce of attention I give you! OW!"

As Sukuna rages, she snorts and jumps out of his now loosened arms. Turning her back to him, she approaches the other sorcerer who's head is still bowed.

"Uraume, would you kindly show me to my bath?"

"Of course, Master"

Uraume stands and bows their head. Holding out their arm for their Queen.

She holds onto Uraume's arm, purposely squishing her still exposed breasts into the sorcerer's side as she smiles down at them.

"I guess we'll have the bath all to ourselves then, Uraume~"

Uraume closes their eyes with a knowing smile and nods in response, very accustomed to the games the two lovers would play with each other, often forcing them right in the middle. Their Queen would often promise that she'd one day make Uraume flustered, something that to this day has yet to occur.

The sorcerer doesn't even flinch at their powerful master fawning over them, stroking their arm and pressing her now marked up tits closer into them as the two walk off towards the bath Uraume prepared.

"HEY!! WHAT THE HELL!?? URAUME!"

Sukuna sits in disbelief at his wife's antics. As if he's only now remembering what a tease she is and has always been.

His wife looks back at him over her shoulder, she shrugs her kimono off her shoulder, exposing her tattooed shoulder to him before turning back to Uraume snickering.

Sukuna huffs and grins, shaking his head. He's so fucking happy to have his wife back.

(AN: I was originally planning to make this smut but... It just got away from me😭😭 sooo... Maybe in a part two? 👀👀)

[sleep-0-deprived]

Viserys I x ftm male reader one-shot~! (,,>﹏<,,)

WC:. 2.0K

Tags: breeding, impregnating, consummating marriage, afab anatomy, after aemma died Viserys married you au, age gap, reader is nineteen, ftm reader, soft sex, praises, dub con, sex with little plot, oral (Reader receiving), cw slight blood<33

A/N: S’ been a minute an N’body asked but M’ back with ah hotd obbsessiion

Taglist: @miyaisastar @asher-is-hotxp @silvern1006 @unstab1eperson2 @yyuinaa @dewday1 @blond3ang3l @creepy141dollie @m4r13ll @ihavezeropancreas @sooobiinn @just-ignore-them @fuckingmxonlight @nightwinglover101 @chasingknives @littlelilithsposts

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦

The room was loud and the air was heavy, this wasn’t what you wanted at all, the last thing you wanted was to be married off and yet that’s exactly what just happened. It was evidently clear when you stared around at the other lords and ladies enjoying the feast- a moment to celebrate your new marriage to the king of the iron throne, Viserys. You couldn’t seem to muster up a happy thought about it- you just sat in your too tight robes holding a golden goblet of wine in your hand knowing what was to come for you at the end of the night.

Your eyes followed around the ballroom while you take a sip of the wine, you didn’t touch the food that everyone else seemed to be enjoying, you just sat silently feeling the weight of the Targaryen empire already weighed down onto your shoulders despite you only being a new addition to the dynasty.

All you could hear around you were the sounds of laughter and chatter from other Targaryen’s and high court members, your husbands daughter Rhaenyra sat talking away with your brother in law Daemon at the other side of your husband Viserys.

When your newly husband wasn’t looking you stood up walking out of the ball room and making your way to your bed chambers, your heels click to the floor of the old castle, every knight you passed simply nodded and gave a small bow, oh how you hated all of this especially the bejeweled crown that sat a-top your “h/t” hair the crown was heavy and felt like just another object to show the world you were just another man bound to the throne.

When you open the door to the now shared bedchambers it almost felt like a peak at the future life that you would have with Viserys, a picture of what was to come for you in the near years. A lavish canopy bed with cream colored silk for sheets having dim candle light around the room with a vanity sitting against the wall, old perfumes and a brush sat there.

“That must’ve been queen Aemma’s..”

“It was, I couldn’t bring myself to rid it just yet, sweetling”

A voice speaks up from behind you making you turn seeing your husband standing looking at the vanity with a weary look on his aged face, it was clear as day he was still mourning the loss of his wife and it almost made your heart ache for him.

“I’m sorry your highness—“

“Viserys, just call me that when we’re alone”

“Viserys it is then”

You never let your eyes stray from him, waiting to see the next move being unsure still, you start to undo your necklace taking the pearls off then your earrings laying them down on the vanity. Still in your deep green wedding robes, the color dark as the evergreen forests and smooth from the rich velvet fabric it was made from.

“I shouldn’t be so gloom and ruin our night, it’s not everyday a boy gets married is it?”

A pair of hands find their way to your hips clasping them feeling him pressed right up behind you making your mind go blank having a fuzzy feeling in the pit of your stomach having only one thought ‘it’s happening’ those words sunk into your head but you didn’t have the strength or will to push the king away, even if you stopped it tonight then it would inevitably happen..after all this was your duty, to provide him with a male heir.

“You feel so nice sweetling, I have no doubt you’ll give me great babes”

You could feel his beard pressed into the side of your neck, he starts lifting your robes up pulling them over your upper thighs, his palms pressed warm to your inner thigh working its way between your legs slipping into your panties pressuring flush against your cunt, he could feel the swelled labia down under only making him hum and guid you over to the bed. His crown falls off in the matress and his face slips from your neck going lower kissing over the clothed swells of your chest before kissing his way to your stomach only going lower.

His breath was hot on your core- you felt it even with your panties between his mouth and your lips, his hands slid your panties down your ankles taking your heels off and throwing them to the floor while his violet eyes look up at you pressing kisses to the area between your thighs and cunt. His kisses were wet and sticky on your skin making you look up at the top of the canopy just accepting your fate.

“I wish to make your night a beautiful one, you deserve all of the best pleasures my dear”

His voice was deep, you could feel the vibrations of his mouth when he reached your lips pressing kisses from the top of your cunt where your clit peaked from the folds making his way to the tender hole that clenched and puckered at the air fully empty and waiting. All Viserys could think of was getting his seed inside your womb- he just had to knock you up soon and your young fertile womb would be perfect.

The rings on his stubby fingers pinch against the s/c skin of your legs leaving them with small flushed marks, your slick starting building up with every flick of his tongue having your hips half lifted off the bed trying to grind into his face while you fist the sheets letting out small cry’s when his tongue glides over your tender nub.

“Please, be merciful please”

“I am being merciful sweetling, just tell me what you wish for and I’ll give it all to you”

His words were sincere and that was undeniable but your thoughts were cut short when his tongue found its way into your tight cavern spreading your gummy walls and letting them wrap tightly on his tongue. Your hand found its way back down to his hair. You grab a handful of the silver locks and bend your back upwards feeling a hot sensation in the bottom of your stomach.

“I don’t know Viserys-“

You croak your words out having a tremble in your thighs with your head up on the pillows of the bed, your walls fluttering all spread around his tongue feeling on edge while he works your body. hands gripping flesh leaving a tingle on your thighs when he keeps them from wrapping around his head. His facial hair rubs against your skin leaving little irritating marks behind only adding to the pleasure you feel.

“You taste so sweet, how’s it feel darling?”

“Feels nice, I feel close”

You squirm under his mouth feeling the need to get off but before you reach your climax his mouth pulls off of your pussy leaving it all glossed in his spit feeling cool against the air. His hands slip up and hold your robes pushed high, his other hand getting yours out of his hair. Viserys sits on his knees between your thighs holding a desperation to get inside you while he sits with an ache in his pants.

“I’m sure you haven’t been deflowered yet, so I’ll make sure to be gentle with you”

Purity was something deemed so sacred to have that if you didn’t you may as well work at a brothel, you just nod up at him watching his hands undoing his belt and pulling his breeches down, his cock springing forwards having a pudgy tip with silver hair around the base, you knew it was happening right when he mounted you with his face in your clothed chest. Viserys moves his arm up to the side of his face pressing his tip between your lips and rubbing the mixed fluids on his length as lube.

“Hm-“

“Shh, just be still for me sweetling”

His thumb slides over your bottom lip having your eyes wide wanting to cry when he pushes inside you stretching your inner walls open wide around him leaving you to feel every vein of his length while he lays on top of you. The ceiling blurs from your vision when your eyes swell up with tears and yet you still stay quiet. You knew the day would come when this would happen to you even if it wasn’t by Viserys then it would be some other noble lord.

Your folds spread like petals on either side of his cock swallowing it, blood mixes with your fluids from your now torn hymen showing your cherry popping. Your stomach rises and falls fast feeling his cock rubbing your deepest parts massaging yours insides leaving you to adapt to the shape of him. Your moans are silent and muffled against his hand, your womb ached and throbbed, you knew he’d knot you up when you felt his tip leaking a mess inside you.

“You’re doing so very good for me, my dearest boy”

“Ah- ha”

The only words that left your lips were just simple gasps for air, your ears ring taking in his praises feeling him loving up and down your body with his free hand holding your hip to pull you back on his cock letting you take it all while his pelvis rubs your clit with each gentle stroke. Viserys was true to his words at least, he was gentle and sweet with his words giving rolls of his hips that could nearly be said to be a little affectionate or loving.

“You’re close, I can feel it-“

His pace picks up removing his hand from your mouth and onto your covered breasts gripping at the mounds of flesh feeling your nipple pucker under the velvet. Your insides squelch from being fucked open having a slight string of blood on his cock seeping into his pale pubes while he grounds his hips upwards into you like he was trying to plant himself as deep as he could push his tip. A sharp pain brushes inside you when he hits your cervix making you grip the sheets tighter bitting your lip and scrunching your face up.

A hot rush soon spreads over your body leaving tingles on the skin. He was coming inside you, his seed spewed from his tip leaving you gasping feeling your throat tighten when he works your body leaving you a mess under him while he continues to grope your chest, making love to your pussy.

“A-h there you go, take it all for me darling”

He croons out with his beard all damp from your previous juices. Your pussy starts fluttering around his manhood making a ring of come around the base, he grinds his hips forwards making sure his seed is planted deep as he can get it— the goal was to have you with a babe by the end of the night and he was gonna do it. You look down from the top of the canopy with your glass like eyes staring at him, your orgasm rushing over you when his pelvis squishes against your clit leaving your vision starry, your walls tighten and pulse feeling a throb in your clit nearly jumping when you finish around him.

“O-h so full”

Your face was flushed when the older male slips his hand off your breast and up to your cheek to clasp it, Viserys holds your hip steady, not yet pulling out of you as he lays still between your thighs cradling your body gently.

“You’re so good to me sweetling”

“..thank you Viserys”

You’re still in a state of shock only whispering out the words you know should be said to him in return for the compliment, this was now your life wasn’t it? This was what your future will be, sex- heirs- repeat all over again for him..you could handle it couldn’t you? It was too late because you didn’t have a choice and Viserys wasn’t letting you out of his grasp anytime soon.

[sunseed-fandump]

owo! Now i wanna know what the bad batch think about the ancients individually, (mostly dad vanilla, he’s gonna be so stressed)

Hollyberry Cookie The kids had actually plotted to try stealing her Soul Jam first, as her son and daughter-in-law had already gathered a good portion of the Soul Jam’s fragments. Thus, Wild Strawberry Cookie reluctantly entered the Princess Contest in an attempt to get close to the shield and snatch it during the ball. (She actually got really far!) Unfortunately, the Dragon went berserk and the Lost Queen-mother returned to her Kingdom and took up her shield once more.

While Gingerbrave enjoys the general rowdiness of the country itself, he can’t help but wonder why the royal family even bothers ruling if the Queen-mother and its fair princess are never around. King Royal Berry Cookie is a total pushover and Queen Jungleberry Cookie is competent, but even she can’t hold an entire country together by herself. From the kids’ outlook, the Hollyberry Royal Family value their power over others and take it and their subjects for granted. Clearly, a family can’t be that good if they’re always abandoning each other, and a ruler can’t be that good if they’re constantly leaving their kingdom behind. Wild Strawberry especially does not appreciate the seeming lack of loyalty.

Dark Cacao Cookie He’s definitely the biggest tyrant in the kids’ opinions, due to his country’s strict traditions and laws. They saw how he was letting his country wither in favor of bolstering the Wall, and weren’t impressed with the many ruined villages they saw. Combine that with his habit of social exclusivity towards outsiders, Dark Cacao hasn’t exactly painted the best picture of himself.

Even though he’s since taken up his sword once again and has rid himself of Affogato’s influence, the kids still don’t regard him highly. After all, what kind of king restricts his own soldiers from eating sweets?! He’s depriving his people!!! And he calls THEM evil? Ridiculous. Unfortunately, their plan to steal the Soul Jam was sabotaged by Licorice Cookie and Pomegranate Cookie’s interference, what with calling forth the horrors of the Licorice Sea and Pomegranate cursing the King. However, Dark Choco earned a few points with them by leaving Dark Enchantress behind.

Golden Cheese Cookie It doesn’t matter if greed is considered a good thing in her kingdom, Golden Cheese Cookie is so terribly selfish! Their trip to this Kingdom infuriated Gingerbrave, who views her actions as no better than his Witch. He’s been broken to pieces and brought back over and over, and sees the Golden City as a twisted version of what happened to him on a massive scale. How dare she not allow the dead to rest. How dare they have to be subjected to a fake reality at the whim of a self-proclaimed goddess, just because she’s too childish to mourn and move on.

And what would she do to those who acted against her? Reprogram them? Erase them? Well the kids definitely saw how well Smoked Cheese’s attempt at a coup went. Even now, she refuses to let “her” cookies go as her Kingdom sleeps in Soulcheeses. Golden Cheese sees her subjects as objects, something to hoard and do with however she pleases; even to deny them the peace of death. Gingerbrave can’t stand her as a result.

White Lily Cookie As the only Ancient to not have an established Kingdom (at least up until the events of Beast-Yeast), the kids didn’t really know what to make of her. At least, that’s until Wild Strawberry informed the boys of who White Lily Cookie eventually became in other timelines, Dark Enchantress Cookie. The so called Hero of Freedom, becoming the very tyrant they’re rivaling within the race to obtain the Soul Jam.

The kids see White Lily Cookie as a weakling and hypocrite as a result, though they remain ignorant as to how she fell to Darkness in the first place. She must have decided the world didn’t deserve true freedom, and turned into a controlling maniac as a result. Thus, they don’t trust her as far as they can throw her.

Pure Vanilla Cookie Hooooo boy PV. The kids are especially prickly with him. Gingerbrave doesn’t like the fact that a single healing spell from the vanilla king could turn him to ashes. Azure Wizard doesn’t like that his Light magic and high skill level allows PV to dispel a lot of his dark spells. Wild Strawberry doesn’t like his gentle demeanor and kind personality, as she thinks it's just a farce.

They had sought out the Vanilla Kingdom to learn its secrets and advanced magical knowledge, and wound up inadvertently mixed up in the Waffle Bot attacks. It was Healer Cookie who had saved them and brought them back to the Raisin Village for treatment. Despite the villagers’ clear distrust and distaste for the kids, it was Healer who defended them and allowed them to stay. It wasn’t until he was revealed to be Pure Vanilla Cookie that the kids grew hostile, as it was his actions during the War that caused a lot of problems.

He strives for “truth” and “happiness” for all cookies. Well, too little too late, in the kids’ opinions. The truth is the world is a deeply hurtful and terrible place, and Pure Vanilla is willingly blind to it. 

Everyone is so quick to sing the Heroes praises, to show them kindness, understanding, and love. Well where was “kindness” when Gingerbrave was treated like a freak? Where was “understanding” when Wizard had to resort to dark magic to save his own life? Where was “love” when Strawberry was abandoned to rot in a random timeline with no way of returning? Where were ANY heroes when the kids called for help?

There’s no such thing as heroes. Just really good liars propped up on pedestals of fool’s gold.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Magic Systems

Magic - change wrought through unnatural means

Most fantasy can be placed along a spectrum where there are 3 main points: soft magic at one end, hard magic at the other, and a middle ground between the two.

Soft Magic

Magic that is not well-defined for the reader.

Generally, we don’t understand where the magic comes from, who can use it, or what its limitations are.

Readers can see this type of magic being used.

But they can never anticipate when magic will be used in the plot because they can’t begin to guess how it works.

You can’t break a rule if the rules don’t exist!

Most stories that feature this system will have the magic users be secondary characters, allowing them to avoid explaining exactly how the magic works.

It’s also argued that without knowing everything about the magic, it tends to hold more wonder and excitement for readers.

Hard Magic

Has very rigid boundaries.

Readers know where the magic comes from, how it’s used, who uses it, and what its boundaries and limitations are.

We know the limitations of the characters and can understand why they can’t simply magic themselves out of any particular challenge.

Stories with hard magic systems do not need to avoid the main character being a magic-wielder, as they have the capacity to explain to the reader what is going on.

A lot of writers this system because it gives them very explicit guidelines to follow in their plot and creates some more satisfying pay-offs for readers.

The Middle Ground

The meeting point between the soft and hard systems.

We might understand a bit about the way the magic works, but not all our questions are answered.

While most of the content adheres to rules, these rules aren’t fully explored.

This system relies on the reader’s suspension of disbelief.

The main character can be a magic-wielder or not, and it’s up to the writer to determine when magic will be used in terms of plot.

How to Choose a System

You can and should use these guiding principles to build your magic system. Remember that you don’t have to choose one or the other. Your system can draw from aspects of both. Just stay aware of the weaknesses of the path you choose, and ensure you utilize its strengths.

Use a hard magic system if:

You are going to use magic to solve problems

Your audience is accustomed to the tropes of hard magic

You are okay with jumping through hoops to expand your system

Your magic doesn’t convey a theme

Use a soft magic system if:

You want to convey a theme through magic

You want to create a sense of wonder

You want the ability to expand easily

You want to be accessible to a broader audience

Your magic won’t regularly be used to solve problems

Branches of Magic

Like most writing processes, there isn’t really a correct place to begin designing a magic system. A common, and efficient, place to start, however, is by choosing what type of magic system(s) you wish to employ, such as:

Nature-based magic: water, earth, fire, air, and everything in between

Divination magic: see beyond sight and peer through time and space

Conjuring magic: move objects through space over any distance

Psychic magic: master the world of the mind

Life and death magic: tap into the very forces of life, death, and un-death with this surprisingly versatile collection

Animal- or creature-exclusive magic: some creatures just do it better

Magitech systems: the blurring lines of sorcery and science give magic a next-gen, high-tech flair

Eclectic magic: it doesn’t have to be “real” magic to have a real effect

Uncommon magic systems: the unsung heroes of fantasy magic

AALC Method

How to create your own magic system using the AALC (Appearance, Abilities, Limits & Cost) Method

Appearance

What the magic looks like

Makes the world feel more exotic

Can cause problems for characters but cannot solve them

Usually tied to a character arc

Abilities

What the magic does

Points calculated based on magical effect, range, number of people affected, and duration

Characters have a finite amount of fuel (mana) to use abilities

More powerful abilities require more fuel

The fuel does not have to be overt for the audience to understand

If points not overt, cannot solve conflicts unless a cost system is added

Limits

Unlimited uses of magical abilities

Abilities stratified in codified levels defined by their limits

The more the levels' abilities and limits are known by the audience, the more they can be used to solve conflicts

Focused on clever uses of abilities against stronger foes

Cost system can be added to enhance dramatic moments

Cost

Costs must be greater than or equal to abilities to make them dramatically satisfying

Costs can include time, exhaustion, materials, sanity, morality, etc.

Adds dilemma to magic by forcing characters to make choices

The greater the character's sacrifice, the more audience satisfaction at conflict resolution

Each system builds on the previous ones, so that Cost Systems use all four, while Point Systems only care about Abilities and Appearance.

Multiple systems can exist within the same story, and systems can harden over the course of the story.

The Force, for instance, has been a Soft, Point, Level, and Cost System depending on who wrote it at the time.

SOFT SYSTEMS (Appearance Only)

Window Dressing - magic for secondary characters; can instigate conflict but cannot solve it; e.g., Gandalf

Soft Villain - No explanation or upper limits needed; makes villains more powerful to make heroes greater underdogs; e.g., The Emperor

Chosen One - Unknown power keeps hero safe throughout story; can be considered plot armor unless earned through character arc

Sort Hero Incomplete - Curse or positive ability the character cannot control; hero still learning limits of ability at story's end; powers and arc continued in next adventure

Soft Hero Complete - Hero embraces ability to complete arc and solve main conflict; magic must become harder in subsequent adventures

POINT SYSTEMS (Appearance + Abilities)

Points Opaque - Non-explicit reservoir of energy fuels powers; cannot solve main problems without cost option because characters finding hidden energy reserve feels like deus ex machina

Points Hard - Both abiliites and points system must be explicit like in video games; becomes about resource management; easy to understand but takes sense of wonder out of magic

LEVEL SYSTEMS (Appearance + Abilities + Limits)

Soft Level Static - Unchanging power without upper limits; cannot solve conflicts because feels repetitive; power must be used cleverly; e.g., Wolverine's healing factor

Soft Level Advancing - Increased powers or new powers with unknown limits; cannot solve conflicts unless tied to a character arc like Soft Hero Complete, at which point "unlocks" new abilities

Hard Level Static - Unchanging abilities with clear-cut limits; can solve conflicts so long as setup is properly seeded, usually resulting in sacrifice; e.g., Genie

Hard Level Advancing - Well-established abilities with limits; can solve conflicts based upon clever uses of abilities, usually against stronger foes; e.g., Airbender

COST SYSTEMS (Appearance + Abilities + Limits + Cost)

Static Cost - Well-established cost remains consistent for each use of ability; can solve conflicts since based on personal sacrifice

Cost Fluctuating - Costs change based upon dramatic need; costs must be greater than or equal to ability; possible costs include lost time, money, sanity, health, memory, life, morality, etc.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 ⚜ Writing Notes ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs Writing Notes: Magic System ⚜ Fictional Items; Poisons ⚜ Fantasy