#and fuck it I'm taking this meeting (and so many other wonderful things) as a sign that I'm back on the right track

[aayakashii]

I'm going through the Sinostra chapter right now and I can't stop making theories omg there might be spoilers below so be careful, although I'm just enumerating my questions tbh lol

According to one of Taiga's home screen dialogs, there might be some sort of time loop happening which he's KINDA aware of? Or maybe just aware when triggered somehow.

He said "long time no see! You decide to ditch this future too? Sorry I'm not dead yet" which is INCREDIBLY ooc as to how he behaves during the story which leads me to

His extreme memory loss, which apparently lasts less than 24 hours. Why is that? Did he go through so many time loops that it started affecting his memory? There was one small moment in which he remembered Ritsu because he saw the MC face though...

The Clash. What the fuck was it

What's Taiga relationship to Haru? Haru sounds eerily nonchalant regarding Taiga even though the man keeps on threatening Peekaboo. And aftewards, Rui briefly mentions that Taiga has a "destroying what others hold dear" schtick, which leads me to believe that Taiga is seeking revenge for losing something important maybe???? Is the fanfic brainrot too big rn

WHY DOES HE HATE LIKE DOVES??????? I dont wanna go full romantic mode, but is he just resentful of seeing a bird that is the physical representation of someone else's feelings or something......

The spy. Honestly no idea. There's some theories floating around that Haku is the spy, but I would rather see him during the Hotarubi episode before jumping to conclusions, but it's understandable how people might think that I guess...? He IS very nice and helpful and randomly finding the MC fleeing by train was way too much of a coincidence... he does seem to always tie the MC to Darkwick somehow, firstly by KIDNAPPING her and then by talking her into staying. If the MC is the trigger to a bigger event, then one could see that as suspicious. But I would like a bit more evidence first lol

Back to Taiga, why is he. Like why

Okay no but seriously. If we take the timeloop thing seriously + Haku being a spy, here's the theory:

Taiga knows the MC is the trigger for an awful event and tried killing them back in the Prologue in order to cut the problem on its roots. Haku, if we consider him as the spy, WANTS the event to happen (considering he could also be aware of the loop), which is why he saved us and took us to Darkwick, therefore letting it all play out once again.

If Haku isn't the spy, then we would have to chalk it up as Taiga knowing and trying to kill us, but destiny (???) being a bitch, therefore putting Haku there as a pawn to make things play out again

Maybe the spy can control other ghouls? Who know tbh

Finally, what is going on during the first scene we see in the game? Darkwick on fire and the first character we choose jumping off of the building? I wonder what would happen if we choose Taiga as our first card....... maybe I should create a sub acc

Anyway if anyone has more questions/theories PLEASE SEND THEM MY WAY IM OBSESSED WITH THIS GAME I NEED TO THINK ABT IT

There is also a good theory on reddit made by u/imonlybr16 that states this:

"Before the prologue, when you open the game for the first time, you're greeted with the opening scene involving MC running through the halls of a ruined Darkwick. The question is asked "When the world is collapsing around you, whose hand will you take?"

There you're taken to your character choice screen. The guy you choose is later shown on the railing of a balcony, about to jump off.

Now I think I have a very far fetched and vague idea as to what is going on.

In chapter 2, we learn that the person that Alan killed was Dante or at least he thought he did. But we meet Dante and he's very much alive.

This comes theory number one.

***You can't actually die on campus.***

Note the use of actually here. You can 100% still die, you just end up coming back to life.

If Rui is your home screen he talks about accidentally killing someone else in his dorm and being annoyed with having to lift them back to Obscuary. This struck me as a particularly odd dialogue because Rui's curse causes people to die.

Unless, you can't die on campus.

This would explain Dante pretty much instantly. Yes Alan killed him but yes he's alive.

The campus itself is an anomaly, stopping people from dying doesn't sound too far fetched. I expect this to be revealed with the other two members of Obscuary, as that dorm seems to have a connection to death. One of the things that always pops up is that ghouls aren't immortal, no matter how quickly they heal.

Also explains how Calamari didn't die in chapter 3. Ren ran from the dorm > the caves > the jetty and Calamari was already pretty dehydrated in the beginning.

But OP you might say, aren't all the guys talking like they believe they're going to die.

Luckily, that brings us to vauge and far fetched theory number two.

***The campus is on fire due to a rebellion***

In the very last chapter of the prologue we get to see Kaito's wickhive. There we see three pretty interesting threads.

. There's gonna be an uprising soon

. One of you is a demon

. There's a guy who could see the future

Kaito is surprised at something he sees in this scene but we don't learn what it is. This chapter's 'preview' is one of the scenes we see in the very beginning. Blood and a Lily.

I believe that the first thread is foreshadowing and will . After you meet your chosen guy standing on the railing you get a line of dialogue (or not if you picked Towa) that changes depending on who you picked. Some imply that what they're doing is going to save you(Jiro, Zenji and Sho), some apologize stating that they could protect what they cared about until the very end (Luca,Kaito,Haru and Yuri) but three characters caught my attention

Leo: Life sucks and then you die,right? I just want to make the assholes responsible regret it.

Ren: This is exactly why I didn't to do this! I knew this was how it was going to end.

Subaru: This is all my fault. I don't expect you to forgive me, but this is the least I can do. Please take this as my final act of good faith.

Especially Subaru's and Ren's, that seemingly imply either the MC's (Ren's) or their (Subaru) involvement in the current situation. Now what does this has to do with a potential uprising?

One of the things we learn from the very beginning is the inter-politics of the houses and by extension the ghouls. Especially after the fallout of the clash. Things are pretty tense and an uprising or rebellion seems to be the most likely thing.

As to what happened and why? I have no clue. Though one thing to note is that according to the prophecy, as long as the ghouls are in Darkwick, they prevent a disaster from coming. If Darkwick is destroyed however, the prophecy can't be fulfilled, or can it?"

This is such a good theory too, I really think u/imonlybr16 has probably gotten a lot of things right.

Although it's weird that death is such a big threat to us specifically, but maybe the Academy can't prevent death by curses, much like the Mesmer Matches dont work on someone who's cursed. Hhmm...

[kurosstuff]

What aboutttt protective!bunny!lute x soft!bunny!female!reader ✨

Like ppl look down on the relationship cuz why would 2 "weak" bunny's be together. Lute's angry that she's prey because she has so many traits of a predator, like strength, protectiveness, and aggressiveness. So she is always trying to prove to the reader that she is enough to protect them, so reader doesn't leave her for a predator and so she always feels safe.

OMG Y3QH-

God lute would be pissed just throwing a tantrum. Her a bunny? He'll no-

Warning(s): fighting, Lute being lute, idk it's fluff, slight angst?

Bunny!lute x Bunny!F!reader: perfect mates

Sighing, you looked out the window, yet another courter outside your cabin confessing to you- like it is everyday. A predator courting a prey.

"My darling bunny~ I swear if you pick me I will protect you with my whole life~"

The wolf declared. On their knees, arms stretched out, fully expecting you to jump into them in awe touched.

"Not happening," staring deadpan uninterested as you gave the answer to the wolf as always. "I'm happily mated to Lute." Your ear twitched in hopes she's near- your beloved mate should be near soon. Should-

A laugh cut you off. The wolf covered their mouth once they heard who tou were mated to. Sighing you heard the same phrases you always heard 'another bunny? How could you be protected?' Whats so odd about having a mate of the same kind as you?

Never heard complaints with two predators but. Two preys? Mated? Oh that's wrong apparently.

"Now what the fuck. Are you doing?' A new voice called from behind you the familiar thumping from her foot. Signaling to you- Lute is pissed "flirt with my mate? Insult her? Insult me? Do you KNOW who the fuck I am?" Walking to the window her spear in hand

You sighed, knowing the exact outcome that's about to happen. Like all other times. With a blink, Lute jumped from the window, cursing up a storm challenging the wolf to a battle - who foolishly accepted. Turning, you went inside, not wanting to see yet another blood bath. Of your mate wining as always.

It didn't take long for Lute to come back inside. Her bloodied weapon thrown to the side as she rushed to you- "I'm fine, my mate," you whispered, watching her snarling ears twitching in irritating. If you didn't know she was a bunny- you'd assume she was a predator herself.

Like your first meeting. Her in her armor you assumed she was a wolf from how she behaved as ironic as you rethink now. "Your my mate. Who gives a damn what we are? She scuffed pacing around the room cleaning up the blood on her. Knowing how ir bugs you- after all you did just repaint the walls and redecorate after.. another fighting incident

"Your MY mate. I can keep you safe. Happy. No one else can! No one can keep up with my fucking speed!" She yelled out barking in rage

"Lute"

"LIKE. YEAH IM A PREY TO BUT-"

"Lute," you spoke, interrupting her rant, knowing if you didn't know she wouldn't have stopped. She'd continue the rest of the day. Getting more mad. More temper tantrums as all the other times before instead of getting angrier. She sighed sitting on the couch covering her face with her hands her ears drooping. "..my mate.. please.. what's going on?" You whispered softly following her close but keeping their distance

"I'm your mate.. bur. I'm a poor excuse of one. No one takes us seriously! If I wasn't a fucking bunny of all things. Maybe, " she sighed, trailing off for a moment to recollect her thoughts "maybe if I was another prey they would like.. I don't fucking know like a fucking deer. Those are acceptable." She snarled out sighing looking up at you sadly "I want to be the best mate for you. Who you'd want-"

"But you are," you cut off, cradling her face smiling "your everything I ever wanted in a mate.. and more. Your caring. Protective. Kind. Considerate all the things that make up a wonderful mate. That's you" you spoke softly

Holding her close as you could kissing her softly- you hummed smiling hearing the familiar thump. Not the same as the ones when she's mad. The thumps when she's happy - when she gets so unbelievably overwhelmed with herself, she thumps to show her gratitude. "I love you. I will only ever choose you. No other prey or predator will ever catch my eye. They can try, and they will. But you have my eyes. My heart. Everything.' You spoke softly, seeing her smile softly. "There's my girl ~"

With a deep, she sighed, grumbled, laying against your chest "..same here" she huffed out hiding in your neck her tail wagging happily smiling you held her- knowing that's the closest to her speaking of her feelings to much outwardly. Spoken allowed. Much less let you hear her.

The predators can try to court either of you. But you both knew they'd fail. Especially if they could see how you both stared at one another. How only you and her excited at a time the second you locked eyes. She hummed closing her eyes smiling. She truly loved you- and she's glad to hesr you state the same.

[ashenburst]

Don't let them fool you. You can find your twin flame at the club

[boxingcleverrr]

Popular Hades & Persephone "retellings" are, rightly, getting dunked on all over the socials right now and, as a Pagan who has an altar to the Queen, I could not be happier. But also, I feel like a lot of people miss WHY they're bad - aside from just plain bad writing and lazy tropes. Which are, yeah, also REALLY bad.

Pretty much all retellings try to wave away, or excuse, or twist the whole kidnapping bit. And I actually do have sympathy and understanding for why, when speaking from a modern perspective.

But honestly...you gotta get over it. There are other stories to play fix-it with, not this one.

The Abduction is The Thing.

Were I a little more sober I could bring up chapter and verse of the Hymn to Demeter but frankly, if you know even the middle school mythology curriculum version of the story, you SHOULD know the themes. The story of Persephone was one mothers and daughters in the ancient world held dear, because it was a reality: you will, one day, be swept away from your home to go cleave to a man you most likely know nothing about. You will miss your mother, but chances are very good that he will be a good husband, once you get to know him, certainly better than Zeus or Ares, and he will make you a queen of his home.

Leaving home to marry was often scary, and violent (look up the history of the tradition of Bridesmaids, if you don't already know it - they were originally decoys on the marriage road). Centuries later we'd have tales like Beauty & The Beast serving the same function: comfort, hope, you are leaving your safe loving home to figure life out with a (often older, powerful) stranger. Your trauma over this sudden ending of your childhood made manifest in a Beast, or a God of The Underworld.

It's wonderful that we don't NEED stories like this anymore to comfort us (here, at least, in this culture). But if you try to force them into modern vernacular it just will not work, not really, because you're gutting out the whole point just to have a more tidy romantic male hero.

I have read MANY very good ...novelizations? fanfic(? however you would frame them, but they're certainly not "retellings"), etc. that simply take advantage of the blank spaces in the myth, and there are many!

It's not explicit that sexual assault happens - "The Rape of Persephone" as a title was coined in much earlier eras, when the word was just as often used to simply refer to abduction.

"She was starving!" the gods didn't need to eat. So it's easy to read her eating the Pom seeds as a deliberate choice on her part. Like, shit, people, scholars have written whole papers on the symbolism of this moment, between marriage rites and even yeah, Seph choosing both worlds with her husband's knowing consent.

And that, I think, is the real heart of the thing. People want an utterly mundane, spelled-out story here, as opposed to what it really is, has always been, just like any other myth or religious parable: IT'S A METAPHOOOOOOR.

They don't need to be destined, or meet at a goddamned BALL and then CONSPIRE to fake her kidnapping, or shit, I once saw one where Hades got MIND CONTROLLED by Zeus?! Jesus.

Persephone was yoinked into the Underworld against her will.

That's how it went.

I don't mean this in a "stay out of my belief system!" way, shit I'm a white American chick with delusions of witchery. I mean this in a "stop stressing yourself out trying to make things palatable" way:

This is a very real, very precious myth to many people, BECAUSE for at least that one event, Persephone had no autonomy, BECAUSE for thousands of years most women had no autonomy. Erasing that, sanitizing the fact that a girl is ripped out of the spring, from her mother's arms, is erasing the thing that gave comfort to women for centuries. And people can and should still find power and healing in it now!

Fill in the blanks the story leaves in whatever manner seems fit to you, there's plenty of room, but. Come the fuck on.

[revasserium]

Okay okay hear me out Rain: reader watching Sanji cook, just sitting, waiting, maybe reading a book but catching glances at him every so often and he knows they're looking at him and just smiles....sorry I love that man

accidentally in love

opla!sanji; 2,569 words; fluff, banter so much banter, flirting, flustered!sanji, whipped!sanji, no "y/n", confessions, "sweetheart", fem!reader, straw hat"!reader

summary: in which sanji is trying to cook dinner but you're very, very distracting. or, sanji finally meets his match.

a/n: i know i said i might not write for anyone other than zoro but i lied. i guess i'm a sanji bitch now too. fuck.

Sanji’s always liked to say that he can cook anywhere, anytime, given that he’s got something that resembles heat and a smattering of ingredients — like any great artist, he knows how to make do. But, he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t enjoy this — the quiet of a ship’s kitchen, the gentle sway of the ocean, the simmer and pop of fat on a pan, the soft bubbling of boiling water — and you.

You, perched on the counter with your legs hanging off the side, hair piled up and pinned with a chopstick, a book in your hands or on your lap, the early afternoon sun spilling in to caress your skin like so many loving fingers. Sometimes, he’ll glance over while chopping onions or mincing garlic to catch a glimpse of you, and he’d find himself stilling, his fingers slowing, his breath suspended in his chest, caught like an insect in amber: held weightless and perfect.

“You’re staring,” you say, flipping a page without looking up, a smile twitching at your lips.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve found that admiring beautiful things helps me in my creative process,” he says, his grin going lopsided as he lowers his eyes to the ingredients on the cutting board — tiny, plump cherry tomatoes ripe to bursting. He resumes slicing each in half with swift, decisive cuts and relishes in the sound of your laughter.

“Careful with that mouth of yours — someone might accidentally fall in love with you,” you flip another page.

Sanji slides the cut tomatoes into a bowl and wipes a hand on the towel slung over his shoulder.

“Accidentally? C’mon, you gotta gimme some more credit. But if anyone’s fallin’ in love, it’s gonna be with you.”

Another page. Sanji plucks a few zucchini from a large bag and starts to julienne them into thin strips.

“What are you making?” you ask, finally setting the book down in favor of peering at all the ingredients he’s got laid out. He quirks an eyebrow, glancing up.

“What, finished with that book already?”

“Nope — just found something more interesting to look at, that’s all.”

Sanji blushes.

Let it never be said that Vinsmoke Sanji can’t take as good as he gives but by all the gods and monsters and sea kings — you’re a damn good flirt. Almost as good as he is, he used to think. Now, as he covers up his rapidly darkening cheeks with a chuckle, turning away to grab a potato for skinning, he wonders if you might just be better.

“You never answered my question, y’know.”

He looks up again, his tongue feeling strangely swollen and uncoordinated in his mouth. You’re grinning at him, your legs still swinging, but in the few seconds he’d looked away, you’ve inched closer, your outer thigh now almost pressing against the edge of his cutting board.

The first time he’d found you perched up on his long work table with a book in your lap, he’d blinked, crossed his arms, and debated on asking what on earth you thought you were doing. Chefs generally do not take kindly to their prep spaces being treated like free real estate for sitting, but he’d never been able to say no to a beautiful woman, now has he? And least of all you.

“Thought you could use the company,” was your answer to his then-unasked question. He’d laughed, nodded, and gotten on with his breakfast prep. But that was months ago and since then, it’s become something of a habit; a ritual, almost.

“What question was that? I was —” he asks, clearing his throat, his fingers almost slipping on the freshly peeled potato, “distracted by your —”

“What are you making?”

“Oh —” Sanji returns his gaze to the cutting board, now acutely aware of the smell of your skin, creamy and warm. He swallows, trying to focus on slicing the potato.

“Just a cherry tomato and zucchini noodle pasta — not often that we get such fresh produce. But Luffy’d asked if I can make chips from scratch the other day so that’s what this bad boy’s for,” he says, holding up half the potato.

“You sure one potato’s gonna be enough?” you shift your leg to cross one above the other, and Sanji has to swallow passed the thickness building up in the back of his throat at the sight of your soft, smooth thighs.

“Good point,” he says, laughing as he bends down to grab a few more.

You fall into a companionable silence, the quiet only punctuated by the tack-tack-tack of his knife on the cutting board and the occasionally shunk-thump of ingredients being swept into a metal prep bowl.

“You’re staring,” he says. And this time, it’s Sanji who grins, keeping his eyes fixed on the remainder of the herb mix he’s chopping up.

“Yeah, I know. I’m making a habit of admiring beautiful things. I’ve heard that it’s good for me.”

Heat bursts in Sanji’s chest as if he’d swallowed a shot of whiskey or gin or perhaps something even more potent. His head spins, but he steadies himself before letting out a soft, low whistle. He fights the urge to look up just to check if you’re as affected as he is.

“Keep talkin’ like that and falling in love with you’s not gonna be an accident.”

When he finally looks up to shoot you a flirty smile, he finds himself faltering as he meets your eyes.

“Who said I wanted it to be an accident?”

The knife in Sanji’s hand slips and he swears as it knicks the skin of his forefinger.

“Ah, shit —”

“Oops.” You have the decency to look sheepish as he shoots you a mildly reproachful look. But you shift your legs and tug open a drawer that had been tucked beneath where your knee had been, pulling out a small bandage.

“Come here,” you offer, reaching out as he stares at you for a second before moving forward to give you his hand. You gently wipe away the blood before pressing the bandage to the small cut, running a thumb over the edges to make sure it’s sealed.

The air hangs between you like dust motes trapped in sunlight, like first snow caught in the silvery breaths of awestruck children.

“There,” you say, the word no more than a whisper. Your hands linger over his, his skin burning where you’d touched him. Shivers skitter down the length of his spine as he gulps in a breath of air that tastes faintly of fairytale endings and happily-ever-afters.

“Thanks.”

He doesn't pull away. Neither do you.

Like this, he can count every single lash that frames your doe-wide eyes. Like this, he can feel the static thrum of electricity threatening to jump from his body to yours, and all at once, he understands why lightning always tries to reach for the closest thing to its storm-ridden skies.

Perhaps it, too, yearns for closeness — for that infinitesimal moment of connection.

He wants to reach for you.

Your lips hover a kiss’s-breadth away.

An alarm goes off.

“Oh fuck —”

He jerks away from you, the world clanging rudely back into focus as he reaches for the lid of a large pot, his heart hammering something fierce inside his ribcage. He nearly burns himself on the thick fog of steam rising from inside the pot to reveal six flat-face crabs, freshly caught that morning.

Behind him, he hears the distinct sounds of you slipping from the long work table.

“Leaving already?” he asks as he turns back around with a stab at his usual light-hearted cheek.

You lick your lips, grinning, “I feel like I’ve caused enough damage for one dinner service. If I keep hanging around, you might lose a finger next.”

“Small price to pay for the company of a beautiful woman,” but there’s a gravel and grit to his voice that wasn’t there before, and he looks away first when this time your eyes catch. He tries to busy himself with prepping the pan sauce for the crabs.

“I’ll let Nami know that the next time she wants to peek in on you cooking.”

“Hey —”

You pause at the sound of his voice just as you reach the door. You turn.

Sanji’s expression flickers between caution and anticipation as he opens his mouth, his eyes somehow sharper and darker than they usually are.

“We’re not done talking about this.”

You cock your head, “About what?”

But there’s a smile teasing at the corner of your lips and Sanji lets out a good-humored sigh.

“Alright, go. Or else I might lose more than a finger.”

Like a heart, he thinks as you close the door behind you with a soft click.

Dinner is an appetizer of cold zucchini pasta followed by a warm, tangy tomato veloute. Then come the crabs — freshly steamed over a bed of risotto and served with a lemon and rosemary pan sauce so delicious it has even Zoro sighing with satisfaction.

“Wow, special occasion?” Nami asks, looking up as Sanji comes around with a tray full of cocktails, complete with blood orange slices garnishing the lip of each glass.

“Ain’t every day a special one with this crew?” he asks, winking at Nami as she takes her drink.

Everyone laughs, but as he sets down your drink, you notice a tiny note tucked beneath the base of your glass.

You take a sip of your drink, glancing down at the note. It has three simple words written in Sanji’s unmistakable, slanted handwriting:

Kitchen — after dinner.

You tuck the note away in your pocket with a secret grin, taking another long sip of the cold, refreshing drink.

The final course is a heaping pile of home-made potato chips with garlic and cheese dip, and Luffy wastes no time in shoveling half the batch into his mouth, crunching loudly over a series of vague, animalistic hums and grunts that all seem to denote happiness.

You finish your drink and slip away under the guise of going for another.

When you get to the kitchen, it's to find Sanji already cleaning up.

“Need a hand?” you ask, setting your empty glass on the counter before lightly hoisting yourself up onto it.

Sanji shakes his head, turning off the water and wiping down his hands. He pours you another drink from a large pitcher before setting it down and pursing his lips.

“This afternoon —”

“I meant what I said —” you say, cutting him off as you look away, eyes fixed on your knees as you swing your feet away from the table’s edge, “if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sanji clears his throat, reaching into his pocket to grab a cigarette and a lighter, if only to keep his hands busy. The thing in his chest that he’d been so convinced was his heart for most of his life now feels very much like a ticking time bomb. Or perhaps a hand grenade, with the pin held precariously between your teeth.

One word from you and —

“So? What about you?” you ask.

Sanji sucks in a long breath of smoke, holding it in his lungs before letting it out. The familiar sting grounds him as he looks at you and wonders if you know all the things he’d do for you. All the things he’s already done.

“Me?” he asks.

“Yeah — did you mean it?” And for the first time since he’s known you, you sound uncertain, “All… all those things you said? All the things you’ve been saying?”

He takes a few steps forward, finally allowing himself to breach the delicate circle of your personal space, his free hand coming to rest on the counter next to your thigh, his palm pressing flat to keep himself from going too far, too fast.

“Three guesses,” he says, letting his eyes flicker down to your lips and linger there, “You guess right… and there might be a prize involved, hm?”

A small, knowing grin spreads across your lips even as you quirk an eyebrow.

“Three guesses to a yes or no question? C’mon, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re losing your touch.”

Sanji leans in and you can almost taste the smoke on your tongue.

“But you do know better, don’t you, sweetheart?”

You suck in a breath, reaching up to tug the cigarette from his lips.

“Yes.”

You catch a flash of his smile a second before his lips find yours. He tastes of salt and tobacco and lemon-rosemary sauce.

“That’s one,” he says as the pair of you break apart. The cigarette lies forgotten on the counter.

Somehow, his hands have found their way to the bend of your waist, settling there as naturally as the tide might settle against its favorite stretch of forgotten beach.

You smile as you reach up to tug him closer, “Yes.”

Another kiss.

Sanji notes with a satisfied grin that your cheeks are just as flushed as his feels when he pulls away this time. He nods, trailing long fingers up your side, one hand reaching up to cup your cheek, the other pressing at the small of your back.

“That’s two.”

You nudge his nose with yours and he feels his hand-grenade heart leap into his throat.

“And…” you hum, letting your head lilt to one side as you ghost your lips over his, “Hm, lemme think about this one…”

Sanji rolls his eyes, tugging you forward by the back of your neck, crushing your mouth to his. It’s more insistent this time — the kiss, the breath, his fingers, your hands — more desperate and fumbling, fueled by the ever-growing heat bubbling at the base of his spine.

“Yes —” you hiss, panting as the pair of you pull apart, your pupils blown wide and dark in the dim kitchen light.

“And that’s all three,” he says, his smile going wide with warmth, “See? You’ve got it. Knew you’d get there.”

“Did you ever doubt?”

Sanji shrugs, taking half a step back to admire the sight of you, with kiss-swollen lips and heat-flushed skin. Perfect might not be strong enough a word.

“There was a moment here or there,” he says, to which you respond with a light shove to his shoulder as you hop off the table.

“Oh, I meant to ask you — what’s for dessert?”

Sanji laughs, “What? Did my garlic-cheddar chips not satisfy?”

“Really? Chips for dessert? And here I was hoping for something sweet.”

You make to leave the kitchen but Sanji reaches forward, pulling you back all too easily, spinning you around and pinning you against the door. His eyes are soft with mirth but as he leans down, you can’t help but shiver at the promise of something more lingering beneath the smoke of his breath.

“Well then, sweetheart, I think I’ve got my dessert picked out already now, don’t I?”

recs r technically closed, but... if you have an opla!sanji one... send it here.

[sutorus]

✰ HC: BEING IN A SITUATIONSHIP WITH THE JJK F*CKBOYS

DESCRIPTION: my hcs on what it’d be like to be in a situationship/fwb situation with the jjk men hehe

FEATURED: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. fem + afab reader, this is fully self indulgent i'm just taking my own shiddy experiences and coping via hot anime men, suggestive content/smut, pretty standard manwhore behavior, slightly toxic, not wholesome, kinda crack tbh, some mentions of degradation as a kink, objectifying women, just like the real thing lol!

A/N: LONG BUT READ! this will Not have an ending where you get together at least not rn these are just my hcs all in good fun ur just having fun ok ur not heartbroken everything is okay. they are not good boys here they are normal regular boys

GOJO SATORU

has way too many hoes. way too many

so much so that he gave up on remembering their names and just saves their numbers like “osaka w the hand kink”, “big tits shibari”, “slut from trig”, “hostess best bjs”

has someone’s boobs with his name written on them in sharpie as his wallpaper

says i love you when he cums inside and you never know if you should believe it

throws you off when he agrees to meet your friends only for him to flirt with them in front of you

takes you to the best clubs with bottle service, lets the girls sit on his lap and laughs when you get mad

pays for your ubers everywhere every time

into the weirdest shit like wearing your underwear laughing like a lunatic the whole time he’s fucking you then after he cums gets sulky and embarrassed

lays it on thick with the pet names, gives zero fucks if that confuses you even further

very public with you and it makes you wonder how many other girls put themselves through this humiliation just for the d

gets jealous about you being with other people and needs to prove himself by eating it from the back or something

fwb with gojo is just a huge mindfuck honestly he doesn’t take anything seriously and this is no different sorry! it’s fun tho!

GETO SUGURU

keeps it extremely platonic because he likes to tell himself he has a conscience

too busy for regular chit chat ignores your texts all day then hits you up when he wants to fuck

even more of a whore than gojo is which is why he makes sure not to lead anyone on he just does not need the trouble

answers all your personal questions about him with one word answers

he lets you choose the movie for netflix and chill at least! but will never remember it or the fact that it’s your favorite :(

cleans you up after sex and brings you water

has female hygiene products in his bathroom which is both a red and a green flag

lets you stay after sex and you just lay there on his bed watching him do stuff on his computer but he will not be talking to you

never calls you baby or anything when he’s fucking you just goes oh fuck yeah right there fuuuuck your pussy

genuinely respects you and has nice decent sex with you unless you tell him that you’re kinky

in which case he fucks you just how you want it and gets off on how turned on you are

not one of those guys who gets jealous of sex toys and holds the wand on your clit for you

likes to make you cum over and over and over again

fwb with geto makes your heart clench because he’s just such a gentleman but you got way too much competition to even think about it

NANAMI KENTO

a professional in every sense of the word

uses sex as stress relief

thinks he's too old for this shit but you make him feel alive so he fucks you like he can empty all of his frustrations into you

invites you to his apartment serves you expensive liquor and lets you initiate things most times unless he’s too pent up

can actually have very nice conversations with you

never has the “what are we talk” because he makes it clear he’s too busy for a relationship

lets you spend the night if it’s too late but solely for your safety/logistics

does your taxes for you but will not call you anything beyond an “acquaintance”

texts you happy holidays but does not know when your birthday is

gets tested consistently even though he’s not fucking anyone else and always uses a condom unless you beg him not to

eats you out because he thinks it’s relaxing and spends hours prepping you

the sexual tension is soooo thick when you two fuck all you can hear is grunts and growls and moans and wet slapping sounds and it’s so hot

has some random turn ons like gets bricked up when you’re wearing lipstick or stockings

fwb with nanami is very enjoyable and easy it’ll get complicated if you develop feelings because he does not want to date but who cares yolo am i right

FUSHIGURO TOJI

broke ass deadbeat dad why are you into him

absolutely nasty sex

you know if he had a girlfriend he’d respect her too much to do the things he does to you

dick game so bomb that you’re scared he’s gonna give you a child even when he’s wearing a condom

wants to fuck you every way he possibly can on every fuckable surface with zero regard for your physical integrity

eats his cum right out of you

ego is so big, grins so wide and fucks you so hard when you stroke his muscles

loves to eat pussy but only after he’s fucked you because he likes it tight and hot with minimal prep

doesn’t follow you on any social media but jerks off to your instagram pics

has like 3 different phone numbers and you don’t know why

has only let you come over once, didn’t let you shower after

no pet names but calls you a dirty whore and other degrading shit

loves it if you cry on his dick

doesn’t give a fuck about your safety sorry you’re on your own

has never told you his last name

one time you asked to see a picture of his son and he didn’t speak for 3 whole minutes

fwb with toji is the nastiest sex you’ve ever had truly it’s just sinful and everyone’s dark hidden fantasy half of it you couldn’t tell your closest friends because it’s just too much

a/n sorry

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

Okay, so... I had this thought earlier... but what would Vox think.. if a reader.... had a breeding kink? They get off to the idea that Vox fills them up after a hot and heavy pounding. Would something awaken in him, or would he just simply indulge in their fantasy after some thought?

My god you'd definitely awaken something in him.

That being said, if you were to start begging him to breed you in the middle of a session, it would give him just enough pause to make you wonder if you fucked up before he goes absolutely fucking feral.

If You Insist [Vox x Reader] NSFW

(NSFW writing under the cut. Minors stay away <3)

It had been a long fucking day. Vox's schedule had been booked to the second with back-to-back meetings regarding products, partnerships, and new streaming services that would be released in the upcoming year. To say he was ready to tear someone apart by the end of it all would be an understatement. Having to sit through so many boring meetings had been mind-numbingly dull and he wanted nothing more than to unwind and blow off some steam.

You were lying on the couch in his penthouse when you heard the familiar electric charge building up from one of the cameras installed in the corner. The room flashes with bright cyan light as you look up from your phone and you perk up at the sight of your favorite overlord.

"There you are," you say as you pocket your phone and get up. Your eyebrows furrow as you see the mental exhaustion clear in his expression. You open your arms and Vox groans as he falls into them, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder as he takes a deep breath.

"Long day?" You ask as you rub his back.

Vox simply grunts, his arms tightening around you. "Fucking idiots. Every last one of them, I swear."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "They can be, yeah. What can I do to help? There's still leftovers in the fridge or we could watch reruns of that shitty series you like or-"

Your trailing list of suggestions is cut off as Vox's claws dig into the back of your shirt, his hot breath fanning over the side of your neck. You shiver as he begins marking a trail of heated nips and kisses on your skin.

"T-That answers that," you sigh as you tilt your head to give him better access. After dating Vox for as long as you had been, you know better than to let him get too carried away without redirecting him to a more comfortable location. He was impatient and once he got going, he didn't tend to give much mercy or consideration to any potential aching joints after the fact.

You pull on his bow tie as you take a step back, then another. He growls as you make him follow you to the couch, his claws drifting down to your hips. You smirk as you keep ahold of the accessory and pull him down onto the couch. He straddles your lap as he hungrily presses his lips against yours.

"Coming home to this was the only thing that got me through all that bullshit," he muttered against your lips as his hands sneak under your shirt. You take the hint and help him pull off the offending garment. It gets tossed to the side and you grin as he bends down and immediately captures one of your breasts between his teeth while cupping the other.

You let out a pleased hum as your fingers find the back of his collar and dig into the fabric. "You know I'm always more than happy to help you unwind," you purr.

It wasn't long before all clothing was abandoned altogether and he had maneuvered you onto his lap while he lay on the couch beneath you. His hips stuttered against yours as you ground your slick heat against him. Every time he tried to pull you down, you smacked his hands. He growled in frustration, his claws digging into your skin hard enough to break the surface. You hiss at the pain, but grin as you look down at him and continue to tease him with your ministrations. "Patience, Vee," you chastise him.

"I've been patient," Vox growled with frustration. "All fucking day!" You had planned on teasing him for longer but were caught off guard as he flipped your positions and pinned you underneath him with a scowl.

"Vox, wait- Ah!" Your hand shoots above you, clutching onto a pillow as he slips two of his fingers into your heat. His grin is cruel as he doesn't bother taking much time before he slips in a third and moves faster.

"No, I don't think I'll be playing your games this time, Dollface," he smirks as he plunges deeper within you. He scissors his fingers and curls them cruelly as you gasp and writhe beneath him. He leans in, pressing down as he lowers his face to yours. "I'm going to do what I want to you, and you're going to let me. Isn't that right?"

You moan as he curls his fingers against your G-spot. He strokes slowly over the sensitive area with a sadistic grin. His free hand shoots out and clamps down around your throat. You gasp, clutching his wrist as he tightens his grip. "When I ask a question, you answer."

He lets you struggle for air for just a little longer, still teasing you with gentle strokes despite his cruelty before he relaxes his grip just enough for you to find your voice.

"Y-Yes," you gasp. "Whatever you want. I'll take it. I'll take it all."

"Good," Vow growled as he released you. He pulled his fingers from your needy cunt and looked at the slick collected between his fingers. "Now then," he sighed before shoving them into your mouth.

You gag as his claws press dangerously against the back of your throat. "Be good and clean up the mess you made."

Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you swirl your tongue carefully around him. His sadistic grin only grows at the sight of your pathetic obedience. "That's better," he purred as he reached down and pumped himself slowly at the sight.

He lined himself up against your entrance, rubbing the head of his cock against you teasingly as you rolled your hips against him. He groans, unable to hold himself back for much longer. "Show me," he orders.

You open your mouth, letting your tongue hang out as he retracts his clean fingers. He inspects them and nods. "Good," he says simply before his eye flashes and he shoves himself inside you without warning.

Your back arches and you let out a strangled scream as he snaps his hips into you cruelly. "Now take it all."

His claws dig into your hips as he holds them up and pounds into you mercilessly. You cry and grasp desperately at the couch beneath you as he lets out his frustrations. "That's fucking it," he groans. "You're such a perfect little fucking cocksleeve. Fuck! Your body was made for taking this dick."

You nod, babbling with tears in your eyes, "Yes, fuck, yes! I'm yours to use, all fucking yours. Please!"

Vox chuckled as his sharp, cruel thrusts slowed to a stop. You whine, feeling the desperate need in you begging to be released. "No, no, no, please don't stop!" You sob.

"I don't know," Vox smirked. "You were playing pretty damn coy earlier. I don't know if you deserve it." As much as he wanted to ruin you, he loved watching you suffer for it. For him, it was just as good as actually finishing.

You wrap your arms around his neck and roll your hips up into him desperately. "Please Vox, I'm sorry. I'll be good. I promise."

"Hmm," Vox grins as he considers it. "You promise, huh?"

You nod furiously, "Yes, yes, I promise, so please for the love of god, fuck me."

He growls as he captures your lips and starts pounding into you hard. You shake, hanging on for dear life as you moan around his tongue in your mouth. When he releases your lips, you throw your head back as you lose yourself in the bliss of it all. "Fuck, thank you, thank you, thank you," you say as you moan unabashedly.

"T-That's it," Vox said as his screen started to glitch. "There's my good fucking w̴̘͇͆͋̕̕h̷͇̦̪̺̯͋̄̂͝͠o̸̼̝̼̬͑͌͜r̵̡̻͋͛́̾è̷̹̻͎̼̹. Take it."

"Please, fuck, I'll take it, I'll take it! Fucking fill me up," you babble as the knot in your core tightens. "Pump me full of your cum. I want to take every last drop, please!"

Vox's eyes widen and he slows to a stop as he catches his breath. You whine, throwing your head back as the peak you had been so close to reaching slipped from your grasp. "Nooo, why?!"

"Did you mean that?" Vox asked, his tone unreadable and quiet.

You pant, your expression furrowing in frustrated confusion as you look up at him. "What?"

"You just-," Vox huffed, dropping his head as he continued to catch his breath. "You just fucking told me to cum inside of you, dumbass."

You blink slowly before the words of passion catch up with you. Your heart is pounding as you bring your hands up to the sides of Vox's face and lift his screen so he's looking at you.

"Vox?" you say softly as you look him deep in the eyes. "Breed me."

"Ohoho, fuck," Vox grins. You feel him twitch hard inside of you and squeal in delight as you feel him lift your legs and fold you into a mating press.

"Don't have to tell me twice," he growled with a feral grin. The familiar black rings in his eye sent a shock of excitement through you as he held you down and slowly slid back inside of your glistening cunt.

You both moan and Vox's eyes screw shut in concentration as he steadies his breathing. He crouches over you, his body pressing your legs further against your own body, and starts fucking slowly. His entire body shakes with excitement as he presses into you and holds himself for just a moment. "Just remember," he says hoarsely. "You asked for this."

His cock slid in and out of you with ease as he started his relentless assault. You moaned and babbled absolute gibberish as the obscene sounds of his grunting and balls slapping against your pussy filled the room. Every thrust felt impossibly deep as he pounded into you without restraint.

"F-Fuck," he grunted as his face started to glitch. "I'm gonna make you take every. Last. Fucking. D̴͕̂r̵̛̳̺̽̽o̷̦͘p̶̢͕̈ͅ.̷̜̤͈̿̒͌"

The rekindled need inside of you snapped as you felt him shove his cock as deep in you as he could as he came with a strangled shout. He pressed you into the couch and stars exploded across your vision as you felt him pour into you until you were impossibly full.

"We are absolutely fucking doing that again."

Vox collapsed on top of you, his cock buried inside of of you, keeping his cum plugged inside of you. The weight made you groan weakly and he chuckled as he looked down at your wrecked expression. He gently dragged his claws across your forehead, pulling the hair that stuck to your skin out of your face. He pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to your cheek as he committed the sight of you to memory.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Knight König who, after bravelly defending the castle alone and saving all the beautiful young maidens, is now *gasp* alone with them!! You and the rest of the young ladies are not even married yet and this whole horror of a siege came :(( you had to be locked inside the maiden tower with the other ladies, praying to the gods that someone strong would defend you, and here he was!! The giant knight from the north from whom you were always herded away 'because a brute like him has no business with fine young ladies like yourselves' :((

Imagine König who is for the time being the only male in the small castle, the foe has been defeated but any kind of help will take days to arrive :( During the fighting his mind was on slaying all the enemies to defend the flock of the frightened ladies but now...??

He's the only male among a dozen of maidens!! And these poor does are so scared in their tower on comfy beds of furs with all the supplies...so many warm, soft bodies to keep him warm and 'aid him to help his wounds', so many broad hips and breasts to grab and squeeze for comfort...oh and they are so ready to share all the supplies with him!!

I mean...who's to say that a war hero doesn't deserve something good too? :D

GFDFSSSS first I was like "gangbang medieval style yeehaw let's gooo" but then I had another quick idea (in all honesty writing gangbangs make me blush furiously lmao I'm weak!)

CW: Fear of SA, mention of blood, boners galore, dubcon groping, period typical attitudes, gender roles etc.

Knight!König asking you to wash him (because he was seated next to you at this one feast and now he's obsessed...)

König, who never had time for women because he was always on duty, whose best chances for a wife were an old widow or some soiled woman, whatever that meant... Probably some lowly lady, for a lowly knight like him. His family must hate him because they keep him from having even that: instead, he gets shipped off to this outpost of a castle that houses hundreds of soldiers and only a few women. Even they are kept under lock and key most of the time, and it's no wonder... A man like him shouldn't even be dreaming of dipping his dick in the pretty soft things of the Maiden’s tower.

König, who even to his own surprise, finds himself victorious after weeks of siege. Who's left completely unchecked and alone with a flock of scared fawns, poor does who are now gathering together for warmth and safety. They only have tiny daggers and iron scissors as their weapons against an armed knight, knowing they’re not always safe even from their own men – especially after a battle.

Even the strongest, most valiant knights get tired during a siege, turning into starved animals after a few weeks. A soldier fresh from war is the worst thing, having his cock up after bloodying his sword, they usually need to have a woman as soon as possible. A victorious knight, finding himself winning against all the odds, would surely prefer to fuck every single one of the soft cunts locked up in the women's tower...

So König, who batters the door and orders the frightened women to lift the baulk, only gets screams as an answer. They finally open it when he says he's tired after a fight and only wants to rest for a bit, puts on his most charming smile as the huge wooden door creaks open, and meets the ladies with a wide grin despite having blood all over him, stands proudly in his full height with his sword still drawn, a path of entrails and cut limbs behind him – why are they still screaming? He saved them! He should be given a royal welcome!

König, who finally gets the women to calm down a little when they notice he is not about to rape them on sight, who wipes his sword with one of their finest, freshly dyed wools (rude!). Who sheathes his weapon and smiles again, suggesting that they help him out of his plate and give him a wash – he’s earned that much, no?

König, who eats from their bowls as if he has never even seen food, who gawks at their tapestries with curiosity, who tries to stare down their necklines and catch a sight of those beautiful, round, plush tits. Most women quickly rush to heat the water to escape the possible groping about to ensue, while you are left with the task of getting him out of his armor.

The straps are small and endless, the armor consists of dozens of different parts, and he just keeps on grinning widely while you’re at it, giving you odd compliments and passages of courtly love with his mouth full of food. Some of his ramblings are straight out of a troubadour’s song, but you don’t believe a word he says, especially when his heated stare is fixed on your exposed neck, the collarbones so frail, the cascading wool that reveals your wrists as you try to pry your way under the heavy, bloodied pauldron.

Of course he remembers you, down to the minutest detail because he got to feed and take care of you at last winter's great feast... Someone had fucked up and seated you next to him in their error, and he heedily took advantage of the situation. He even managed to have a grope at you when the lords and ladies weren’t watching because they were so drunk.

He was drunk too, intoxicated by the strong ale and the shy stares you granted him. You didn’t do a thing when he pulled you closer and practically fed you some deer off your shared plate, tried if you'd fancy a date or a sip of wine while keeping you tightly tucked in his lap. He couldn’t get enough of you: your tiny gasp when you felt him grow hard, your whimper when he stole a soft squeeze of your tit… Your shy ghost of a smile as you demurely called him “Sir” and told him to stop before he gets you both into trouble. 

Ever since that night, he has dreamed of you when pulling out his leaking cock. Sinned until he felt embarrassed to go to the chapel and yet again confess that he has defiled himself with his hand and thoughts of you. Ever since that night, he has wondered whether you are giving those whimpers to someone else nowadays…

But here you are, in the tower, taking off his plates and using all your strength to get him out of his chainmail. Why haven’t you been married off yet? Why aren't you making blankets and throws at some fancy lord's castle by now? You have the perfect hips for delivery, it's practically a sin to keep a woman like you locked up in a military fortress…

And polite curtsies and shy, downcast eyes won't save you now, you know that.

How can you say no to a knight, ordering you to give him a wash? “Do him the honor,” he says, while anyone can see he’s already hard.

There’s nothing the others can do but put up a curtain and leave you two to your featherlight privacy. He doesn’t even bother to undress behind it, simply flaunts that monstrous thing between his legs for everyone to see before giving you the honor of strolling to the steaming bath. A soft silence fills the tower as the knight, tall as a legend, hairy as a beast, climbs into the small wooden tub with a grunted sigh.

You, the maiden he picked, can only look in horror as he grows even harder under the hot water. The thick erection soon juts above the surface, the dark curls framing the base of his cock now floating lusciously underwater, the dark hair covering his full balls, too. Either he's just big everywhere or then he's been too busy during the weeks of the siege... The amount of times you've seen him abstain from meat in this castle is ridiculous, and you always wondered if he ate fish because he liked it or because he had defiled himself in his lust.

He's an animal, but having a woman is not a sin as foul as throwing his seed on the ground... And here he is, strong thighs spreading as far as they can go to give room to the astounding erection he’s having just from the prospect of your touch.

The knight leans back in the tub, looks at you with a drowsy, soft smile, and tells you not to be afraid. The thick, throaty voice leaves your knees completely weak.

“Ach so... Have you ever touched one of these before?”

[etheries1015]

Did you know that hair-pulling helps blood flow? /idk

Did you know that I’m grinding my thighs for Lilia rough(beeping) us?

Kids stay away from me for at least 5 miles away

Did you know that I really want Lilia to go vampire mode and yank us by our hair while he’s ramming us from behind, our neck exposed from his motion and ~~~ ^0^ (won't detail much since I'm not sure if ur comfortable with Blood)

Lilia X reader - Living out a fantasy

18+ MINORS DNI.

General warnings: Gender neutral reader, hair pulling, biting, rough fucking...I haven't written many "full" smuts so...sorry if its rushed or not particularly good, I'm open to advice and learning new things 💜✨

TW: None? Maybe some mentions of blood tho. Tell me if I missed anything, I'll update this section accordingly.

Lilia yearned for this moment. The moment you fully submitted to him as he had fantasized over and over again, with his filthy thoughts of defiling you flashing in his mind from the very second you placed yourself in his life. From bumping into each other in the halls to seeing you in the cafeteria talking it up with another student, he could feel this burning desire from the deepest parts of him.

Lilia didn't particularly enjoy this part of himself. He felt in a way with his dirty thoughts, he was making you dirty, too. With every moment he zoned out during class to imagine himself taking you against one of the desks, he found himself forcing a smile in front of you and hiding the bulge throbbing in his pants with his coat, almost unable to look you in the eyes. He would later find himself in his bedroom, groaning your name before staring shamelessly down at his hands after his release.

Yet he couldn't help but wonder those times when he spoke to you, was that blush upon your cheeks and glances simply a fragment of his imagination? Perhaps you felt the same, he would notice the way your thighs rubbed together after your eyes locked with his for a certain period. He was either going senile, or you truly had the same viciously naughty thoughts about him.

The Fae soon had his answer.

There you were, his hand full of your hair pushing your head into the pillow as his hips roughly snapped against yours. Slapping filled the air of the room along with your feeble high-pitched cries of pleasure mixed with whines of pain, Lilias hand roughly handling your hair and showing no mercy. The mischievous Fae would often pull out to where only his tip barely remained inside your swollen hole, and In one fast movement, he snapped his hips to meet your ass, which was now bright red and stinging with every new thrust.

"can't," you panted, "can't ..cum anymore...hah.." The sticky residue of cum and sweat pulled apart with every time he would pull back and thrust back inside of you from the previous hour of the sexual act, you felt your body unable to keep yourself up go limp and fall to the mattress while he continued with reckless abandon.

"Not- yet," Lilia groaned, taking the fist full of hair and pulling your head back mercilessly much to your dismay yet also pleasure. You let out a yelp of surprise at the instantaneous action and sharply sucked in air as Lilia removed his hands from your hair in order to forcibly grab you by the hips and lift you back upwards toward his eager body.

"Tsk tsk...you're not done until I say you are, little bat..." The way your hair fell exposed your bare neck, Lilia took the initiative the lean forward taking slower and more impactful thrusts as his tongue outlined his intended target upon your soft and mark-free skin.

"You're doing amazing, precious," He purred into your ear, "You can take more for me, right?" Grinding his hips into yours, Lilia took the slight nod of your head permission to continue. His teeth grazed the crook of your neck, revealing his teeth. Using his sharpened Canines to pierce your skin, you hissed in discomfort, feeling some sort of liquid trickling down your neck before Lilia used his tongue to sensually clean up the blood that drew from the wound he left. The fae pressed a gentle kiss against it, almost as if to apologize. The gesture was left short-lived, Lilia smirking against the skin of your neck, he took another bite before ramming his hips against your own. This time, Lilia grabbed your hands and pulled them back as he abused your tired, sopping-wet hole, groaning as the fae pressed his hips intimately against yours climaxing. Your legs trembled as his cock twitched releasing ropes of creamy white cum inside of you for the nth' time. He pulled out, letting go of your arms and allowing your body to fully succumb to the comfort of the mattress. he watched as his seed trickled out of your puffy hole, a satisfied grin on his lips.

His shit eating grin remained even after you turned to face him with a scowl and eyes of daggers. You were weak, your body covered in bruises and love marks from hours of intimacy, yet it didnt stop you from bonking the top of Lilias head. He only laughed at your feeble attempt to attack him.

"I told you I couldn't cum anymore," you pouted, grabbing a blanket and wrapping your naked body. Lilia hugged you through your new little blanket home, and although you were not looking at him, you could envision the puppy eyes he had.

"But you did so well for me, little bat! Won't you look at me, please?" He pouted, poking at you. You peaked through the blanket with an angry stare, narrowing your eyes at Lilia.

"Are you gonna take care of me now? You made this mess." Lilia smiled brightly at this, excitedly planting a kiss on your now exposed forehead.

"Of course~ I'll go draw you a warm bath and prepare some ointment, do not move a muscle, my dear!" You watched as the fae made his way to the bathroom, hearing running water you smiled to yourself, re playing the events over and over in your head with a light blush and a giddy giggle.

You had to admit, despite the aching of your body and the sticky mess between your legs... You wouldn't mind doing it again, sooner than later.

[weebsinstash]

Hi I’ve been watching Hazbin Hotel and I found your blog which is amazing by the way , and I was wondering what are your thoughts on yandere Alastor ?

Thanks babe! ^^ so i was discussing this with someone recently and, to avoid doing that thing where I have too any concepts on the same post, I'm going to stick with a specific idea I've had of him recently which I will call "canon accurate yandere Alastor"

imma be honest and say this version would fucking suck depending on your preferences because he

-doesn't love you romantically and doesn't let YOU date

-doesn't wanna fuck you either AND DOESN'T LET YOU FUCK ANYONE ELSE EITHER

-probably does not consider you an equal by any means, like he considers you a good friend and you're charming and lovely and whatever, but he sees you like.... you'd be puking into a trashcan and he's the one holding your hair back, "now see my dear, this is why you shouldn't go out drinking without a proper escort~" like there's a vague layer of condescension and there's a huge massive power balance and experience balance between you two

Like. He's. He's kind of condescendingly cunty to you, he's vaguely looking at you with the energy of "MacKenzie oh my gosh MacKenzie you're so drunk, you're wasted, oh my god let me drive you home, no girl I'm taking your keys, you're too--" like do you get what I mean? He's a traditional gentleman and he comes along and uh, he thinks he sees this raw potential and charm inside of you that he thinks is being wasted by your modern lifestyle which can literally include

- your diet

-your tech use or what you use from day to day

- how you dress

-how you TALK

-how you spend your time

-who you hang out with

Just picture he meets you, you catch his eye, maybe you're at the hotel, and he's entertained by your sarcastic witty replies to his antics that maybe even get a chuckle out of him. You're a spitfire and he likes that!

.... and then the next time he sees you you're like vaping weed from a pen, looking at him with half lidded eyes, playing a game on your phone, too scattered to fully hold a conversation with him, to focus, to be as entertaining to him as before, and he's grinding the teeth in his smile, "oh no, this won't do at all", especially when he sees negative affects such maybe you're watching things he doesn't approve of or you're being harassed idk

I feel like since Alastor canonically drinks and is quite a heavyweight apparently, he wouldn't mind his darling drinking, but he would definitely control how much after a while. If you get too wasted in front of him too many times, he'll completely cut you off. Folks are you aware that getting too drunk can cause an alcohol induced panic attack that can literally take away your ability to move your hands and arms and make your mouth numb. I found this out recently :) whoops. And I feel like Alastor sees that shit and you'd have to EARN HIS TRUST for him to let you drink again and uh, I don't think that's possible

You're kind of like a bestie but you're also like a toy he's playing with and he doesn't like to share. He'll drag you away from doing other things with other people, especially if he doesn't approve of what you're doing and or with whom. He basically views you dating other people as lowering yourself to people who are beneath you and would only want you to give yourself to someone who deserves you, and he doesn't think ANYONE deserves you except him, and he DOESNT LIKE YOU THAT WAY so the man is just like FORCING CELIBACY ON YOU. Like have you ever seen videos of people taking their domesticated lovely groomed pets outdoors and like a stray or even wild animal version of it comes along to. Hump. And the owner is freaking out, "get the fuck AWAY I don't know where you've been" or at least Should? THAT'S Alastor watching 'other people trying to predate upon you' aka YOU trying to get laid or date

You'll be cooking something and he'll come up and try some without asking, "Hah! This is terrible!" and either watch you so he can tell you what he thinks you did wrong once the dish is finished or he takes over and asserts that he wants to show you to do it "the proper way!" and if you're female he potentially inserts a comment about how as a lovely lady you should know your way around a kitchen (in like a positive "I'll show you so you can know for yourself" way but like the underlying misogyny is there lol)

He'll take you out drinking and dancing but don't you dare let him catch you throwing it back or being mildly sexual, or he'll immediately tell you you've had too much to drink and take you home and you two spend the rest of the night like drinking tea listening to the radio, reading books, or watching old timey TV.

Lastly... I can absolutely see Alastor making some kind of deal with his darling for their soul. He CAN do that (and I think technically anyone in Hell can deal with souls, it's apparently part of the becoming an Overlord process). But I can just see him taking his darling's soul in exchange for anything, it might be really small, it might be really important, but he sees it as safeguarding your beautiful lovely little soul from anyone else who might take it. It truly is like THE HIGHEST FORM OF OWNING YOU, CONTROLLING YOU. It's all according to whatever is in the deal, but I'm sure there's other basic caveats you get... like him being able to summon you at will if you agree to it so he's randomly yanking you away from other people or tracking you when he doesn't know when you are.... or restraining you so you stop running away from him and running out on the town to act so... vulgar

[taffywabbit]

idk if i'm way off the mark on this, but the way some people are responding to that Guillermo del Toro interview about the decline of studio animation is a bit frustrating to me. specifically the bit where he talks about "emoji animation" and how everything is over-animated and pushed too far and things are rarely allowed to not be ultra-cartoony (y'know, because animation always needs to be marketable to children who are never trusted to have attention spans, right?). like, i think he's generally correct about it! but some folks are taking the wrong message away from that.

i've seen people going off about how "soulless" and "corporate" various recent examples are, and talking about these pieces of media as though they're the result of some kind of personal failing or lack of skill/range on the part of the animators, and it's just like. do people realize that's the only animation you're usually allowed to DO in the industry, unless you get incredibly lucky and land yourself on a project/studio that's unusually cool?

when i was in college for animation it was literally drilled into us nonstop that everything had to be pushed more, that exaggeration was not a guideline or a sometimes-treat but a hard rule that always had to be applied regardless of what was going on, because the viewer couldn't be trusted to pick up on subtlety and we sure as hell couldn't be trusted to convey it. you ever wonder why there's such a specific vibe to a lot of self-directed student films, particularly ones that are focused on character acting/interaction or deep emotions and introspection (especially when there's minimal/no dialogue)? it's because for a lot of young animators, they haven't had the freedom to experiment with realism and subtlety up to that point and they're likely not going to have it again for a while (or at all, unless their career path leads to higher positions where they might have more creative direction over the things they work on. which also becomes a lot less likely if they're anything other than a cishet white dude, for what it's worth).

i would LOVE to see more nuanced, realistic, understated motion and acting in animation. i WANT more characters to be able to express what they're feeling through natural body language and facial cues and for scenes to allow me to breathe instead of spelling everything out in giant bold flashing text all the time. what del Toro wants to see changed in the animation industry sounds great, and i hope others join him in seeking to revamp what modern animation is allowed to be.

but as things currently stand, and as they've stood for a long while now, most artists doing the grunt work on the shows and movies you see are completely at the mercy of corporations and networks who have a vested interest in producing a very specific kind of marketable and cost-efficient media all the time. (and by extension that style is ALSO what's taught in most animation schools, because their job more than anything is to grind you down into a perfect little sweatshop worker who will bend over backwards to meet quotas and get your work approved and not question the higher-ups, even if you have little to no personal investment in the projects you're working on, so that the studios who employ you can maintain their good reputations or whatever)

anyways idk what my point was here, this really just sorta became a rant and my views have undoubtedly been coloured by my own personal experiences (this kinda shit is largely why i dropped out before my last year of animation school, for the record).

i guess just be kind to folks in the animation industry? they've had it fucking rough nonstop for well over a century (the majority of them are still not unionized and there's HUGE pushback against doing so in many places). i assure you they are doing their best to infuse the latest uninspired illumination flick or weird spinoff kids' show with literally any amount of soul they can. you don't have to like the stuff that gets produced by any means! be a hater! i'm certainly not gonna stop you. just remember where these creative decisions come from and why these conditions exist, and consider that when YOU watched something and thought "hmm that could've been done better", you can bet your ass someone actually working on it probably thought the same thing but couldn't do anything about it. these things WILL change as the industry itself improves, but in the meantime folks have to pay their rent, and that usually means doing what they're told and working in a way that will minimize revisions and meet quotas so they can keep their jobs. it sucks, but it is what it is.

[exhaslo]

Would you ever consider doing anything for Miguel/Fem!Deadpool reader?

One who's honestly just kind of tease which makes it impossible for Miguel to figure out *why* he hates her flirting with other spidermen so much until the penny hits.

Bonus points for recklessness and brat energy from DP we all know they aint got no self control. Needs Miguel to definitely put her in her place.

Ohhhh, I have seen so much fan art of just regular Deadpool being a menace to Miguel, Dr. Strange and the TVA. It gets me excited to see the new movie coming out!

But yea, let's give into the chaos!

Warning: MINORS DNI, Smut, bondage, angry sex?, p in v, language

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"For fuck's sake, why is there so many anomaly's popping up in different universes?" Miguel barked, tapping against his screens as he sent numerous Spiderman and women out to the field.

"Actually, based on the energy signatures, it seems to be the same anomaly."

"Impossible, one person jumping around all of these?" Miguel cussed lowly, trying to identify the new anomaly.

This new frustration was giving Miguel a reason to want to drink tonight. The speed he was working to try and understand this problem was honestly amazing. This was probably the fastest he has ever worked.

"Wow! No wonder why all of the Spiders I met say great things about you!" You gasped.

"Que?! (What)" Miguel hissed, seeing both a new intruder alert and anomaly alert appear at the same time, "Who-"

"Haiiiiiii! Pleasure to meet you, sexy ass, my name is (Y/N), I'm like the hottest version of me there is-"

"I. Don't. Care." Miguel hissed, jumping down from his platform and approaching you, "This attire...fuck-"

"Yeeeeep! I'mma Deadpool!" You chirped.

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose before taking long, deep breathes. Once he regained a portion of his composure, he proceeded to grab you by the collar and drag you to the 'Go Home' Machine.

At least one of his problems were solved today. Hopefully you will stay in your dimension. Trying to ignore your chatter, Miguel couldn't help but notice some of the other Spiders avoiding eye contact. This annoyed Miguel. How many of them ran into you before saying anything?

"Hm? Oh like half of them." You replied. Miguel groaned loudly,

"Wasn't even a thought bubble," He muttered under his breathe before arriving in the room, "I don't want to see you here again. Stay in your world."

"Awe, but isn't fun! Not when I found such a squeezable ass-"

"Send. Her. Home!" Miguel spat.

It only took a second, but you were sent home immediately. Miguel took another deep breathe before returning to his office to hopefully relax.

----------

"Hehe, he gets so mad when he finds me wandering around this place. It totally isn't my fault that all of you guys think of taking a break here and I just-hop into those thoughts and end up here!" You huffed, talking to Peter B. Parker and Jessica.

"Yeah, yeah, we still don't understand the whole hopping into thought bubbles thing you say you do. It's so confusing." Peter huffed.

"Oh, it's pretty easy. I'd like to describe it as a comic book, but you guys won't understaaaaand, the readers will though!"

"Readers?" Jessica groaned softly. You just laughed,

"Oh yeah! The readers reading this now! So like, normally it's a comic I hop around or thought bubbles or I just rip through the screen, but this time...It's the readers who bring me here!"

"I think I'm more confused than when I started," Peter whined and turned to Jessica who tossed you into the 'Go Home' machine, "Look, just...don't come back before Miguel gets bad again."

"Hpmh! I just said it isn't my fault I keep coming back!" You whined loudly, "The readers and writer keeps bringing me here! I am meant to share my wisdom to Miguel!"

"Why do I hear that Deadpool's voice?" Miguel grumbled, holding a cup of coffee as he walked by, "Again?"

"See! He neeeeeeds me! That has to be why the writer keeps putting me here!"

"What the hell is she babbling about now?"

"Please, don't ask. I don't think my brain can handle anymore." Peter whimpered. Jessica waved him aside,

"She's going home now, Miguel."

Just as the machine turned on, you immediately got sent home. Miguel let out a sigh of relief and right when he was going to drink his coffee, you appeared behind him.

"Fuck!" Miguel yelled as he noticed you. You just casually waved,

"Believe in the spirits beyond."

"I want her gone!"

"Miguel, we've tried so many times. I think...we just need to accept her appearing here." Jessica whispered. You grabbed Miguel's cup, taking a sip,

"Oof, so bitter. So now that I can stay here under the writer decides to let me go home, wanna show me around, big boy?"

Miguel felt his eye twitch as he followed you, mainly just wanting his coffee back.

------------

It has been a few weeks since you've stayed at the-

"Whoa, whoa. Really writer? You gonna make here stay here for weeks without going home?" You huffed.

Okay, sorry, um, it has been a few weeks since you started to willingly appear at the Spider Society.

"Thank you!"

....

Uh, anyway, Miguel has finally started to tolerate you to a certain degree. You still couldn't understand why you kept appearing there, but you were making the most of it. Miguel on the other hand, was starting to find something new to irritate him.

"It's just so fascinating how different each of you are~ Can I touch those wonderful large boobs of yours?" You whispered in awe towards a Spiderman. Yes a Spiderman.

"They're not boobs."

"It's okay to not want to admit your flaws. I buried mine with my neighbor." You whispered, slowly reaching out to the boob.

"Enough." Miguel hissed, grabbing the back of your collar and dragging you to his office.

"Hey! I was about to grab something that could have been the most magically experience of my life!"

Miguel chose to ignore you, growing annoyed at your bratty and quite ignorant behavior. Honestly, he was more annoyed by the amount of flirting you've been doing with the other Spiders. You just didn't know when to stop.

"I can't help it. A natural icon I am," You chuckled and grabbed Miguel's ass, "But this...is a multiverse icon."

Miguel's eyes lit up as he locked his door and tossed you on his platform. In an instant, he webbed you in place, making sure that you couldn't move to try to free yourself.

"Ohhhh~ This is kinky~" You cooed, rolling around like a worm. Miguel pinned you to the floor, his blood red eyes piercing into yours,

"Do you know how frustrated you make me?"

"So...you aren't happy to see me?" You grinned, your knee poking at his growing erection, "I made you horny!"

"Silence," Miguel covered your mouth, "Shit, you're so annoying. No one has been able to put you in your place. Do I need to be the one to do that?" He said with a huff.

You licked his hand in response, "Awe, not sure if a fucking will stop me, but you are so willing to try~" You hummed.

Miguel felt his eye twitch as he captured your lips in a kiss, wanting to shut you up. You couldn't help yourself and smirked, enjoying this moment. Parting your lips, you hummed as Miguel forced his tongue into your mouth, his hands roaming your body.

"Mhm~ Gim....sq..." You tried to say. Miguel broke the kiss, glaring towards your,

"What?" He grumbled, biting and sucking against your neck. You chuckled as his hands reached your breasts,

"Give em a squeeze~ You know you wanna~"

"Do I have to shut your mouth again?" Miguel grumbled, kissing you again.

You tried your best to behave, you truly did. You couldn't help but try to grind against his hips, press your chest to his, or even kiss his neck. Miguel was ready to web your mouth, at least until he started to rub your-

"Whoa, whoa, writer, now I don't mind a good sex scene, but lemme have some privacy here!" You huffed.

Uh, I kind of wrote smut in the warning...so I'm giving the readers what they want, a sex scene.

"Well, I want this man to myself right now! You write other smuts! Let them read those!"

But they wanted this...I can't just-

"Consent!" You huffed, literally spreading your legs towards a feral Miguel who had you pinned, "This is different! I'm totally into this freaky shit!"

"Who are you talking too?" Miguel grumbled, ripping your suit. You shushed towards him,

"The writer! Wait juuuuust a second before shoving that monster of a cock inside me!"

I need to give them a sex scene here. You're already helping me write it.

"No, no! You are trying to write it. I'm trying to enjoy the moment. So be a good writer and juuuuuuuust-"

---------

"Thank you~"

What just happened?

"Oh, I totally skipped the part where Miguel fucked me so good that I actually did shut up. Hell, I think I still feel weak in the knees. Who would have known the stamina and strength that man had. Fucking hot, can't wait to-"

You skipped my story?! I'm the writer here!

"Yeaaaaaah, but like, you can always write more smut. Let me just enjoy that moment to me~. I'm sure you understand~" You cooed.

...

"Hehe, go on. End the story. I'm sure you have other smut to write."

I just- Whatever.

Let's just say, you made yourself a permanent member of the Spider Society. You made sure to annoy Miguel just enough so that he could keep teaching you a lesson. Hopefully, we'll get to see one of those lessons one of these days.

"Maybe~ If I decide to show the goods."

Freaking Deadpools.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hahaha, hope you enjoyed! I always loved it when Deadpool would just talk to the narrator or hop comic pages sometimes. It was great.

@tojishugetiddies

[cupcakesmoothie]

I did all three backstories for Touchstarved (I have 12 hours on this thing and it's only the demo)

Kuras and Vere don't seem to have red options, but Vere does have a secret ending and Kuras... I don't know, holds you for a bit longer?

For Mhin, it really is just picking The Alchemist backstory. You can call them short or whatever and you'll still get it.

For Leander, you have to take the flowers and keep touching him. It's okay if you hold back the first time even.

For Ais, you gotta tell him fuck you and pet the soulless, and after that red option pretty much all yours.

Differences I found between the three backstories:

It is pretty much like how they tell you, Oracle gets premonitions, Hound has experience with people and survival, and Alchemist has knowledge about magic and science, so there's different things you find out with each one.

The Alchemist:

I may be a little bit biased, but think The Alchemist is the most informative (It's also the first one I picked). There's the expected info of noticing that Vere's collar is enchanted, or knowing about how strong Leander really is when it comes to magic, but it's got the added bonus of MC's mentor having been in the Senobium in the past.

Compared to the others, The Alchemist is more familiar with Senobium, albeit through word of mouth. It's interesting how many times the MC says something similar to "I didn't know the Senobium did that." It calls into question whether MC's teacher was lying, or more interestingly (and what I think might be the case), the Senobium has changed a lot recently. It's talked about, even without the Alchemist backstory, that the Senobium used to be somewhere you could go to for help, but now most of the characters you meet do not like the Senobium, so what changed?

The Hound:

The Hound (the least popular option, apparently) was pretty fun. The Hound notices more about Ais, specifically that he's very suited to be a leader, and that the number of scars he has (one) seems suspicious for his temperament (or "how seasoned he acts", as the MC puts it).

One thing that I found very fun was doing Mhin's route as the Hound. They're somewhat able to keep up! They can (or tried to) recognize tells, and noted that Mhin was one of the few people who was able to sneak up on them. They also weren't sure how Vere managed to get their key. They were also prepared to steal to survive.

The Oracle:

While The Hound notices physical things, the Oracle notices... how do you say, otherworldly things. The Seaspring seems to be hiding a lot (of course it is), but the MC notices a heartbeat. A presence. They feel something from Ais. The name Ocudeus means something, they can feel it. They feel like they can see Ais' tattoo move.

Also, the MC feels something from Mhin and Kuras (in his clinic at least), which is interesting!

If I had to decide which love interest was better with which backstory...

Vere: The fact that the Alchemist thought that they could tell what enchantments were on his collar if only they could touch it feels promising! And both their connections (though I mean connection in the loosest term for MC here) to the Senobium makes it feel like you might very well find something.

The Hound might be one of the few who can actually survive this guy if I'm gonna be honest. (I mean you can still get killed by him but. You know.)

Ais: The Oracle's sixth sense makes going to the Seaspring a lot more interesting compared to the others, and the way they can feel something from Ais is very cool.

The Hound can tell his character better than the others, and I wonder how that will come into play later on.

Kuras: The Alchemist knows their way around spell-crafting and alchemy (When I picked this I wondered if they would be able to help Kuras around the clinic, which doesn't happen, but hey it might).

The Oracle seems to also feel something from him.

Mhin: First things first, their red option literally requires you to have the Alchemist backstory. Mhin's precision is noticed by the other MCs sure, but not to that detail.

Watching the Hound observe where they could be was so fun to watch. It feels like this MC will be able to keep up.

The Oracle feels something from Mhin, something inhuman.

Leander: The Alchemist was able to tell that the flash of magic was a barrier spell, and that most magic (or at least the ones they're familiar with) uses an incantation or spell circle. His didn't.

But either way, there will be things to find no matter the backstory you choose, and all of the character's stories are intertwined, so don't let this dissuade you from a specific backstory! There will always be things to find, you just need to look.

Extra: I found it pretty cool how each MC has a different way of knowing what a Groupmind is. Story-wise this makes sense of course, but each of their reactions to it are slightly different, from I heard this from rumours of people in cults (Hound), to I used to be told I could put people in a groupmind (Oracle), to legends suggest it was possible with a strong enough catalyst but it's never been done before (Alchemist).

Also, it's interesting to know what they each think of surroundings (specifically the Amaryllis district). They all have different opinions from I used to be told bizarre things about this place and now I kinda get it (Alchemist), to it's not that different from the place I grew up in (Hound), to it's VERY different from where I grew up in (Oracle).

And if I'm not mistaken, the reason Vere gives for your desperation is different for all of them!

You can find gameplay from me on my Youtube channel, or watch me getting all the red options and secret ending here:

I didn't read it out loud cause my mic sorta sucks and sometimes it peaks and gets a bit shrill. Also you see how my mouse moves sometimes? It means I'm screaming. I don't think I'd have been able to keep calm enough for this. Also my reading kinda sucks anyway hope you like it lol

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Little Emerald: Meet Mia

Chaggie Single Mom AU

I have a soft spot for Single Mom AUs, okay?

Vaggie: (pulls up in her work truck with lumber in the back) Holy shit.... this house is fancy. (double-check her pen pad) Did I write down the right address?

Charlie: (rushes around the corner wearing a white and pink floral sundress) Hi! You must be Vaggie!

Vaggie: Uh.... yeah... You must be Mrs. Morningstar.

(Mentally: Holy fuck! She's gorgeous!)

Charlie: Oh! No. No, Mrs. Just Ms. Morningstar. But you can call me Charlie!

Vaggie: Alright, Ms. Morningstar... Where do you want me to build this playhouse?

Charlie: (tucks hair behind her ear with one hand while the other points around the back of the house)

(Mentally: Oh...wow...she's so pretty~)

Just in the backyard. There's a flag sticking in the ground where you can build. Is there anything you need from me?

Vaggie: (Mentally: Besides a date this Friday?)

(clears her throat and shakes her head) No, not at all. I'll just get started.

Charlie: (smiles brightly with a slight blush that could be natural or from being in the sun too long) Alright! Sounds good. Let me know if there's anything you need. I'll just be inside.

Vaggie: (simply nods as she walks to the backyard) Gorgeous AND cute??? Well, fuck!

Charlie: (enters the house and rushes over to the kitchen window that oversees the backyard) Shit! She's so handsome and pretty! I wonder if I should have swayed my hips a little.... (smacks her forehead with a loud SLAP) Way to stereotype the lady carpenter as a lesbian. She might not be into women!

(plasters her hands to her cheeks)

Wait... Why do I care if she likes girls? I don't like girls! ......Right? (sees Vaggie stretching out her arms and shoulders as she takes off her plaid over shirt to the tanktop underneath) ............I'm bisexual.....

Vaggie: (huffs) It's too fucking hot today... but at least it's a little more tolerable now. (starts assembling a base for the floor of the playhouse and looks up after having the base assembled to work on the walls and A-frame)

Mia: (standing and watching as she swirls the skirt of her pink dress with her hands behind her back) Hello!

Vaggie: Huh? (Looks back as she sees a little girl that looks like a younger copy of Charlie with bright green eyes) Uh.... Hi? .....I'm assuming that this playhouse is for you?

Mia: (nods excitedly) Mm-hmm! My name's Mia! What's yours?

Vaggie: .....Vaggie.

Mia: It's nice to meet you, Ms. Vaggie! (Gives a little curtsy) Thank you for taking the time to build my play house!

Vaggie: Uh, sure... But I'm getting paid for this, so... not much of a point in thanking me. (turns away as she continues to assemble a wall)

(Mentally: Great... I wasn't expecting to have a kid sitting around and distracting me. Why are kids so awkward?)

Mia: I know, but I can still say "thank you" because I'm really happy you agreed to build it!

Vaggie: Uh-huh.... uh, you're welcome then.

Mia: (continues watching) You have a lot of muscles.

Vaggie: Mm-hmm.... (continues nail gunning the beams together before raising the wall and nailing it in place)

Mia: How did you get so many??? They're so cool!

Vaggie: I work out.

Mia: Work out?

Vaggie:....I lift heavy things

Mia: Oh! So.... it's not like Mommy's Zumba classes?

Vaggie: No.

(Mentally: Holy fuck, Kid, let me work!-)

Charlie: (rushing outside from the back patio whike carrying a pitcher of iced tea) Mia! Sweetie! Why don't you leave Ms. Vaggie alone so she can work, my little emerald. Why don't you go inside and get out of the sun. You're starting to get a little pink on your ears.

Mia: Okay, Mommy. (runs back into the house)

Charlie: I'm so sorry about that. She's such a friendly and curious little girl. Did she bother you too much?

Vaggie: (blinks back a blush as she watches the sun illuminate Charlie's blonde hair like a golden halo) No, not really. She's just a kid being a kid.

Charlie: (sighs in relief and tries tonnot stare at Vaggie's already sweating muscles) T-That's good! Here. It's really getting hot out, so I brought you something cold to drink. (places the jug of iced tea on a small table she brought with her)

Vaggie: Uh.... thanks. I appreciate it.

Charlie: You're welcome! (continues standing and shuffling awkwardly as her eyes flit around the yard in a desperate attempt not to stare) Right! Well, I'll be inside if you need me! (Rushes inside)

(Mentally: STUPID!!! STUPID!!! STUPID!!!)

Mia: (coloring on her table) Ms. Vaggie works out.

Charlie: (trying to look out the window again without getting caught) Yes... Yes, she does....

[sky-is-the-limit]

+18/ AFAB!reader x Captain John Price.

Disclaimer: I'm not a writer, if you are, feel free to write this!

If there's one manspreader amongst the CoD characters, that is Captain John Price and I take no other answers. This man walks like it's heavy, the confidence that he oozes? The years of experience? I don't care what big masked man you have in mind, the second Price walks into a room, everyone shuts the fuck up and waits for him to talk first.

///

Even the sight of him makes your thighs press together in a failed attempt to calm yourself down, feeling your folds soak up, the new pair of undies that you picked this morning already ruined to solely the sound of his voice.

You can't help but wonder if he knows or if he at least suspects the undeniable attraction you feel for him, everyone else sees it. The curious looks you get every time they all leave the room but you always have to stay behind, confirm it. Sometimes you feel like it's mutual, the way he always asks for you to stay a little longer so you can go over the paperwork together, wanting to know how your weekend was.

He always wants to know the details, could it be the sound of your voice or curiosity eating him alive that you could have someone waiting for you when you're not wearing this uniform. It has come to the point where it's unbearable to even be so close to him. Whenever he hands you over the documents, his fingers lingering a bit longer as they touch yours, eyes observing you closely, trailing from your eyes to your neckline and back.

He has to know, right? Is it your desperate delusions or the fact that he asks for you to read out loud the last reports so you stay a little longer with him. It could be loneliness, you know how a man like him gets to spend most of his nights, alone in the cold room here at the base or getting drunk at the nearest pub, watching people come and go yet never building up the courage to leave with someone. Why is it always you he asks for? If it's just a dumb coincidence that your mind turns into suspicion, why is it always your name coming out of his lips like a desperate need?

Maybe it's the way he purposely asks of you to repeat the same sentence, sometimes twice cause he knows that you'll obey no questions asked. No matter how many reports you have learned by heart at this point cause you know you have his undivided attention, eyes stuck on your lips as meaningless words come out of it, only unspoken desires between the two of you.

The way he sits on that wooden chair, his muscular thighs open wide as he leans back, arms crossed over he chest like he has zero responsibilities in the world, nothing else that matters other than you in that moment. Is it your imagination or does he always pull the chair far away from the desk so you can have the full picture? He's not the most expressive man when it comes to his personal feelings, especially when dealing with someone under his command but the way his stoic manner shifts when he catches your eyes linger a little longer on his thighs.. That's when it changes.

That's when he knows he's fully in control. That a single word from his lips could make you do all the inappropriate thoughts clouding up his mind every time you stand in front of him. He has to know.

"Come closer private, you're barely just mumbling and I can't hear a damn thing." Excuses. Your voice is loud and clear. It's like the cat playing with the mouse, a predator messing with it's prey before it grabs it between it's teeth and swallows it whole. John Price is a patient man. With every mission, every colleague, every obstacle in his way. He knows how to form the best strategy, how to win the enemy, how to complete a mission but right now his well-known patience is running thin.

You can tell from the way his lip part when you nod to his overused command, never asking why, never complaining or even daring to raise your gaze to meet his. Pure submission to his every instruction that makes his imagination run wild. The way his fingers tightly grip onto his biceps when you step closer to his desk, barely blinking like he doesn't want to miss a second from the way your hips sway, your teeth sinking down onto your bottom lip as you hesitantly approach him. Yeah he's a patient man but not a saint.

"Again, private." A slight smirk forms onto his lips when he asks you once again to repeat the last sentence you were reading out. God, it must be a pathetic sight, the way you would never accept this type of sadistic behavior from anyone else but would spend hours and hours repeating the same words if it meant that you'd feel his presence so close.

The smell of his cologne mixed with the scent of smoke intoxicating your brain as you take a moment to take it all in. How would he react if he knew that this familiar scent is your only companion at night when you lay naked in your bed, fingers caressing your clit softly while thinking intensely of your Captain. How his repetitive commands obtain a different meaning when you bring your other hand up to your mouth, sucking on your own fingers before trailing them down to your nipples, feeling the sensation taking over your body while his voice is playing over and over again in your head. "Again, private." Wishing it was his fingers slowly making their way down to your entrance, covered in the outcome of his bare existence. "Again, again, again."

"Eyes up here, sweetheart." Fuck. The recall of your lonely memories cut short as you come back to reality, blinking a few times before you realise that your eyes were stuck on his thighs the entire time. You slowly gulp the saliva that gathered into your mouth from your filthy thoughts, hesitantly trailing your eyes back to meet his. You feel your skin on fire, the blood rushing up to your cheeks as your heart is pounding rapidly in your chest. If it was anyone else, you'd feel ashamed, embarrassed that you were caught staring so desperately at your superior but not him. Not to the sight in front of you.

His head is titled to the side, his form unchanged as if he was waiting for this to happen, waiting for when your eyes would finally drift from that unimportant paper to him. The gaze of a touched starved man who has finally run out of patience making you freeze into place. The prey was finally caught and.. Oh, he definitely knows.

[whokilledjared]

the sluttiest thing a man can do is be himself. (& takes on social media)

Hi.

I'm lonely.

The moment I got "two weeks off school" in sophomore year, life went to 4x speed & I can't turn it off no matter how hard I try.

Maybe COVID-19 adolescence did numbers on me. Somewhere between the iPhone 5c and ChatGPT, 14-hour screen times have live-streamed to me a steady, homogenous death of culture.

Nothing is cool anymore. Nothing is sacred. Every movement is a trend, and every cult classic a sequel.

The value we place on things being beautiful, on being "cool," and our gatekept appreciation of how hard these things were to find: it's been co-opted, or perhaps stolen. It's been stolen by the new merchant class. "Disruptors" and "innovators" turning our lives into a burgeoning black mirror prequel. Soon, we'll graduate too, and we'll wring every morsel of value in each others' lives dry for cash.

Plain and simple, I think we're being manipulated.

Your dates are an algorithm. Your music is a social signal. And Zuck knows when you sleep.*

God. What the fuck are we doing???

“Individuation is becoming the thing which is not the ego, and that is very strange.” — Carl Jung

Recently, I deleted Instagram. My first impulse was to post a story or something, announcing my departure. But then, I thought that would be lame.

I got rid of my account, too. Kinda. Over 1 year, over 800 followers removed, and what remains of me is a little grey icon, and "JM_0000000010" where my name and face used to be.

yay.

There were many people I wish I could have been friends with, but I wonder, too, why I find myself so drawn to the validation of others. Does social media affect me worse, or do we all just choose to ignore it, languishing in private?

At any rate, this last year has almost felt like re-learning how to be a human being.

Personally, I think one of the biggest markers for maturity is when you become willing to disappoint the people you know in favor of what feels right to you, when you start to unravel the stories you’ve told yourself (or been told) about who you are and what you should be. In short, the sluttiest thing a man can do is be himself.

And sometimes, I think about every college student that has ever lived. My grandmother, my dad, and so on. Just consider for a moment all kids who graduated before 2010:

What was it like for the ones in 1940? To walk around, before a campus had computers? In 2006: To meet someone pretty, but forget their number? In 1999: To cram into dorms, and watch Seinfeld live on-air?

Would I, like my dad in 1988, have braved cold night, brisk wind, & landline phone-call just to knock and see if my friends were too busy to hang?

What stories could I tell if there was even the slightest chance of getting lost on the way home from a party?

Humans are social creatures. We crave our friends like water. To me, the clearest difference between Dasani and Instagram is that one of them comes in a bottle.

Yet despite these distractions and comforts we have in 2024, somehow, we still have engineering students. People who carve out time in their day to sit down, look at paper, and solve differential equations. But then, that's not so hard, is it? It just takes time. Precious, fucking, time.

At Meta, leagues and leagues of these engineers power behavioral scientists, who are competing for the highest salary. Their benchmarks? Your FOMO. Guilt. Anxiety. Obsession. The worse you feel, the more you engage with their content. The more you engage with their content, well, you're starting to get the point.

Try something for me: Open up Instagram, but don't tap anything. What happens? How many little animations? How many tiny nudges prompting you to get lost? Our home-pages are billion-dollar diving boards, hoisting us over engineered catacombs of subconscious quicksand.

My homepage is my FOMO, my envy, and my crushes. The pain and struggle of trying to be someone who I am not. My little existential crises, bundled-up, packaged, and shipped with a like button.

To abandon your social networks entirely, however, requires a safety net of close friends. After all, your friends are online, and you'd be miserable without them.

This is the problem with our monkey brains. Millennia of sociological natural-selection have made us quite great at feeling terrible. We're damn good at making tribal status games to play with, too.

Seeking refuge in quirked up septum piercings and boygenius listeners, my time in counter-cultural, alternative "scenes" between St. Louis and Tampa has shown me that even the weirdest of folks and the most removed can accidentally find themselves reduced to nothing more than high-school popularity contests. Even if I love them. Even if they're amazing people. We're human.

We can't "quit social media" as much as we can't "quit bottled water" Sure, we can, but it's inconvenient. And even without a bottle, we're still drinking water.

So I lost touch with my friends. I got no new updates on their lives. I forced myself into the inconvenience of not having a phone to reach for in fleeting moments of boredom. Suddenly, I was out of the loop. Suddenly, I was bored. And suddenly, nobody missed me. My only friends were the ones I had the time to text. Everyone else ... does not exist.

Weekends have become more valuable than ever. Without the empty social calories of seeing my friends' pictures, I find myself planning hangouts as often as my schedule allows. I have more lunches, more study sessions, and more is done in the company of less.

And I have the time to breathe.

And in this calm, I think I found my answer: it's my misplaced ambition. These fears of anxiety and people I thought I would miss, they seem represent something I want to see more of within myself. Something I want to develop, lean into more deeply, as an individual. And I think that's quite normal; to look out into the world and feel attracted to things we want to see more of. This is, I think, how everyone develops their own definition of beauty — and of coolness. It's largely the intersection of what we find most interesting, and what we want to see more of in the world. Because beauty and coolness, by definition, are rare and hard to find. If they were everywhere, nothing be beautiful, nor would anything be cool.

When we all turn into wrinkles and cataracts, bad backs and heart attacks, for a brief, glorious moment, our lives are going to flash before our eyes. In this moment, you'll see your story. The ultimate progression of you.

How much of that will be skibidi toilet and reaction clips? How much of that will be arguing on the internet? Can you tell me, just how much of your life will you have skipped over to pacify your intentionally-lowered attention span?

That girl whose number you couldn't find Those passing questions over coffee that you couldn't search on Google The boredom of a subway ride

Those are not inconveniences, they're what the older generations refer to as "life."

* (oh, but if you can't sleep, consider this aside: Google knows the angle you walk at, how fast you're walking, and they've got crowdsourced pictures of everywhere around you at all times of the day. fun bedtime thoughts <3)