#and i am just adding some thoughts on that'

[balleater]

something i've already posted about in the past but am thinking about again because of the conversations in this episode is that i still truly do not understand bells hells'(well, particularly ashton's) view on what is going to happen if the information about aeor gets sent out to the people of exandria. obviously, i'm not an average person living in that world and am instead a viewer of the media with fairly extensive knowledge of the lore, so i could definitely just be missing what the impact would actually be! but the insistence that it would be a world shattering revelation that completely turns everyone against the odds just... doesn't make sense to me?

unless ludinus has a way of editing the information he presents and can take away the context, which would basically make the "footage" even more strange, what they're going to be seeing is... the gods saving themselves from people with the active ability to murder them all and having a rather humanizing crisis of what they should do about it? i guess the working with the betrayer gods part could be considered the controversial aspect of it, but overall, considering everything else that was destroyed in the calamity, aeor really was the one instance that was closest to being "justified". i don't think anyone who cares enough about the gods for this to cause any sort of big disruption of faith would have as big of a problem with it as they are assuming, nor do i really think it's something that would cause mass revolts against the gods in people who aren't devout.

[loggiepj]

illicit affairs

part 2 | part 3

YOU'D be a fool trying to convince yourself that Wanda was just some old hag sleeping on your bed that night. But god, she had never looked so peaceful and gorgeous than that very moment, as she was ten years ago. You didn't even know it was possible for someone to look so beautiful, it looked like a crime. As if the gods above blessed only those who were cruel. And cursed those who worshipped them.

Her creamy white legs were exposed from the blanket wrapped around her body. Her tiny soft snores filled the room as she buried herself deep into the pillows. It would take days before her scent would be gone from your sanctuary.

It tore you apart to look at her and feel these forbidden emotions, mad at yourself for feeling this way towards the old woman. You should hate her. You should have kicked her out for what she did.

You decided to go to the kitchen and make something for breakfast instead, preoccupying yourself from worrying too much, that the one nightmare you had always have had come true.

Even your hands were shaking as you beat down the eggs into a bowl, it was a miracle you had managed to cook food. The bacon almost ended up burnt when you jumped from her sudden presence in the kitchen.

"You're awake," you said, ignoring Wanda's gaze on you, her eyes glistening with a recognizable look. You knew that look. She used to look at you that way when you were wearing nothing but her white button down shirt as you made her a quick midnight snack whenever the twins weren't around. But that was ten years ago.

You don't feel anything for the woman anymore, right?

"I made us breakfast," you said before she opened her mouth to speak, stopping her. "You should eat first before you leave."

Wanda took small steps towards the dining table, looking at the food you made her. You wondered if she was touched, remembering how Wanda preferred scrambled eggs more than sunny side ups. But you convinced yourself you didn't do it for her. Because that would make you a martyr.

"This is good," Wanda softly said as you two began to eat in silence. You forced a small smile her way and went back eating.

"I haven't had breakfast like this for ages," she admitted, chuckling. "The boys mostly want cereals for breakfast, I ended up liking them, especially those colorful sweet ones, the . . . I forgot what they were called."

"Froot Loops?"

The skin around her eyes crinkled when she smiled. "Yes, Froot Loops. I swear I'd end up having diabetes one day."

You nodded, chugging down what remained of your coffee as you avoided the woman's gaze.

"What are your plans today? It's a Saturday," the brunette added. "The twins are planning to shop around Chinatown before the classes start. You might even have ideas where to-"

"I can't," you answered, "sorry, I am meeting someone today."

"Oh," she went on, a teasing smirk on her face, "a girlfriend?"

Your fork made a noise as you let it fall down your plate. "What do you want, Miss Maximoff?"

Wanda's smile immediately vanished as she stopped eating. "I . . . I'm sorry if I said something wrong. I didn't mean to pry if you have someone special-"

"No, I mean, what do you want? Why are you here? What were you thinking looking for me, for you to end up inside a sketchy bar?"

Wanda bit back a sob as she looked at you, her hand slipping to hold yours across the table. You tensed and abruptly took it away, ended up with her curling hers into a fist.

"I am so sorry, Y/n," she began, "I'm so sorry for what I did all those years ago, for what I said to you, for being so cruel. I . . . I have to live everyday regretting everything I have said to you. You didn't deserve those things. You were nothing but good to me, and I took you for granted. I . . . I just . . . miss you. I miss you, Y/n. There isn't a day in my life since you left that I haven't thought of you."

You scoffed, standing up as you began cleaning the dishes.

You heard the scraping of her chair against the floor as she stood. "I looked for you. After your graduation, I looked for you. I wanted to take back everything I said. I didn't mean those things. If I could only turn back time, I'd go back to that very day and I should've kissed you and chose you-"

"But you can't," you butted in as you turned to glance at the hysteric woman before you, "turn back the time, I mean."

Wanda was panting softly as her teary eyes stared right at you. She shook her head as she said, "No, I can't."

"That's unfortunate, then," you said back coldly.

Wanda swallowed, still frozen on her spot, and before she'd burst into more tears in your apartment, you went towards the doorway, grabbed your coat and keys. "I'm just gonna grab some coffee. Your clothes are freshly laundered in the bathroom if you want to freshen up before leaving. Please don't forget to lock the door when you leave."

"Y/n—" But you haven't heard the end of it as you closed the door.

Luckily, Wanda wasn't there when you went back home two hours after. But once you had ensured the whole apartment was empty, you broke down and cried.

TIME and absence would surely heal a wound. A couple of months had passed since that dreary encounter and you swore there were a few days when you had completely forgotten about Wanda. That was until you received a call late Friday night when you had only just arrived in your apartment.

It was a nurse from a nearby private hospital, saying that Tommy got into an accident. Before you argued why you were in his contacts in the first place, you drove to the hospital to visit.

Apparently, Tommy got into a fight in one of the fraternity parties he and his friends attended. With broken nose, cut lip and fractured arm, Tommy almost looked unrecognizable.

"Sorry, Y/n," Tommy said when he saw you enter the emergency room, "I didn't know who else to call. And I don't want to worry Mom-"

"It's okay, Tommy. Are you okay? What happened?"

And as you listened to Tommy and the nurse who attended to him, your breathing quickened, your hand hovering over the phone in your jean's pocket. Hesitant to call his mother, even if you knew you had to. Seeing the brunette was the last thing you wanted to do. But this was her son. Your feelings should come last.

Instead of calling the woman, you ended up sending her a short text message, to which she replied instantly, saying that she was already on her way.

You were getting a cup of coffee from a vending machine outside the hospital when Wanda arrived, hearing her voice inside the emergency room.

You decided to sit on the bench by the waiting area, thinking whether you should leave them or stay. You must have fallen asleep on your seat for a few minutes when you felt someone sit beside you.

"Thank you for being there for him," Wanda said.

"How's Tommy?"

"He's under some meds right now for the pain, but the doctor says he's going to be fine."

"That's good," you said.

"There's no available private room at the moment, so he has no choice but to stay in a ward with other patients," she went on, massaging her head. "Doctor said he'll likely be discharged tomorrow or the day after that."

"If you want, you can sleep in my apartment, take a bath or such, while waiting for him to get discharged," you offered. And you had no idea where such sympathy came from.

There was even a short moment where her eyes were at your mouth before she looked back at you.

"I don't want to impose—"

"Wanda, it's fine," you insisted. "For Tommy."

She nodded. "Thank you."

YOU VISITED Tommy in the ward first before leaving, while waiting for Wanda to finish filling up the papers in the hospital's admission room.

"You going to be fine alone?"

"I can manage," he replied, chuckling, showing off his cast.

"Will your father visit?"

The smile on his face disappeared, his fingers playing on the tape around his wrist. "Dad does not visit us often anymore. And I hardly believe he cared for us anyway, now that he has another family of his own."

That was news to you.

"I always tell Mom to find someone so she wouldn't end up alone," he went on, his eyes at the window where you two could see Wanda busy writing. "But she never remarried after Dad, maybe it was because she never trusts men like Dad anymore. But it's been years, you know. I know she's too scared to admit it, but I know she's lonely at home now that me and Billy are in college."

Your eyes were on Wanda as she talked to the Doctor. "I'm sure she'll find someone in the right time."

He laughed softly, making you look at him. "Come to think of it, they got divorced years ago, months after we didn't see you at the house anymore. There was one time Billy thought you were the other woman Dad has been cheating with. But I know you're not that bad of a person."

You stiffened. "You mean, they'd been divorced that long?"

Tommy hummed. "Yes, ten years ago, I guess. We eventually found out who the other woman was. Good thing we didn't curse you by mistake."

You forced to laugh at his joke, but your mind was running in deep circles wondering if the divorce really had something to do with you.

"COME on, don't be shy," your friend Steve invited Wanda, who looked as shocked as you were. "Any friend of Y/n is a friend of ours."

Somehow, when Wanda was returning the clothes you lent to her that time Tommy was hospitalized, there you were in your apartment with your friends, who held a surprised farewell party for Bucky, who was leaving for London the next day. As if Wanda knew perfect timing.

Kate hadn't left your side, even sitting between you just to eradicate any weirdness. The group's conversation went from talking about everyone's jobs, making Wanda let out her plans she was starting a flower shop business in New York and that she had just bought a spot particularly two blocks from the university. You tried to give her the benefit of the doubt, and convinced yourself she was only doing that to be closer to her boys. But you knew better.

Even Kate faked a laugh as she held another toast for the woman. "What about a special someone, Miss Maximoff? I heard you were divorced. Anyone you're meeting at the moment?"

Wanda's eyes met yours for a second before you looked away and drank whatever was left from your bottle of beer.

"No," she answered, chuckling. "I think I'm too old for that stuff anyway."

Bucky chortled. "No way you're old, Miss. If you want, I can set you up with people I know from work. I might even be successful on setting you up than Y/n here, whom I've failed a number of times."

"Why?" Wanda asked curiously.

Kate tried to stop Bucky. "Bucky, just give it a rest—"

"Oh, Y/n here has unknown high standards," Bucky enthusiastically added. "Believe me when dozens had gone down on their knees and Y/n has respectfully refused any advances."

"Shut up," you said, laughing, although you could tell Wanda's eyes never left yours all night long.

WHEN the party ended, all of the attendees slowly started to leave the apartment until there was only you and Wanda. Wanda helped you clean up the place, starting with throwing the empty boxes of pizza and bottles of beers into the trash bag.

"Y/n." Wanda broke the silence. Chappell Roan's casual was playing through the speakers.

"Mm?"

"Is it true?"

You stopped putting the dishes into the dishwasher to look at her. "Is what true?"

There was a small pause before she went on. "Have I ruined you for anyone else?"

You straighten your posture, frustrated as you glared back at her. "How dare you?"

"Then tell me," she challenged, approaching you with a sly smile on her face. "It's an easy question answerable by yes or no. Tell me."

"You infuriate me!"

"That's not a no—"

"You're nothing but a pathetic old slut who craves attention from someone who doesn't want her anymore!"

"Admit it then!" She leaned forward, closer to your face, her nostrils flaring. "Say it to my face that you don't feel anything for me anymore and I'll leave you alone for good! Tell me—"

You pushed your mouth against hers, effectively stopping Wanda from talking. She gasped upon the impact, with her back hitting the wall behind her from the force. And she welcomed you with as much aggression, her hands cupping your face to hold you.

With your arms on each side of her head, you pressed your bodies together, molding against each other. Her tongue played with yours, tasting what had been missed, wondering if each one of you were still as desperate as you were ten years ago.

"Y/N!" she moaned loudly a couple of minutes later as you pulled her hair, while roughly pistoning your strap into her from behind.

You had never thought you'd be able to do it. But there you were in your own bedroom with the woman you both loathed and loved so much on all fours before you. And it was driving you insane.

Mind filled with rage and lust, you tried to forget that this woman before you was the cause of your downfall. You tried to forget she hurt you, broke your heart to pieces as if you were nothing. Basking in the moment, you harshly grabbed the skin of her hips, nails digging, as you repeatedly and relentlessly pushed into her warm dripping entrance.

The tip of your strap hit your clit at the right angle, making you roll your eyes to the back of your head. And when you heard Wanda's whimpers before you, your hand slipped through her back then held her shoulder as you fastened the pace.

The brunette screamed as her body convulsed in waves, shuddering as she came. If it weren't for you holding her upright, she would've fallen straight face down on the sheets.

But her cumming didn't stop you from chasing your relief. The sweet nectar from her release dripping down both your thighs only made the action slippery and noisy.

"Y/n. . . ," Wanda moaned, her hand attempting to hold you back but you slapped her hand away before leaning forward as you held both of her hands behind her back. This rendered Wanda's face flat against the pillow before her, muffling her moans.

"Is this what you want, huh?" you demanded, eyes almost in tears seeing Wanda and pretending you weren't just loving every moment that was happening right now. "Is this what you want from me?"

"Yes!" she screamed, gasping when you spanked one of her butt cheeks. "Yes! Y/n! You're all I want! You're all I've ever wanted!"

And that snapped something inside you. The coil in your stomach exploded, making you press your front into her back as you lay on top of her.

"Wanda," you moaned into her neck, your hips stuttering as you came. She held your face behind her as your body shook.

"I got you, Y/n," she cooed softly as you panted, still trembling above her. "I got you."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I truly appreciate your continued support in reading my stories. You can help me create more stories by supporting my writing thru this link. Thank you so much ❤🥰

[hanjsquokka]

strawberry cake.

kim seungmin × fem!reader — high school! au, childhood friends to potential lovers, fluff

summary — seungmin only needs one present on his birthday, and it isn't the sugary dessert you made for him.

word count — 1.1K

warnings — fluff, fluff, FLUFF!!

author's note — happy seungmin day 🩷 i actually managed to post a fic on a member's birthday, who am i. initially thought of my baseball ksm fic but i know i'm not gonna finish that lol and his instagram posts were very inspiring. i think i watched this happen in some movie or tv show i watched, i don't remember 😭 but i thought it was really cute, lmk what you guys think <3

please consider leaving feedback in the comments or reblogs as they really make my day 💕

Kim Seungmin didn't like celebrating his birthday that much. Sure, he liked receiving a few gifts from his friends and a happy birthday here and there, but he didn't like the blowout parties that you loved. On your birthday, you would plan this whole thing, inviting friends from school and neighbors to celebrate your birthday. You were a social butterfly, so he understood why you did that. You loved being surrounded by people you cherished. Your birthday was just an excuse to call everyone over and spend time with them.

Seungmin, however, liked keeping his celebrations more reserved. His mother greeted him in the morning, making his favorite breakfast to eat and favorite lunch to take to school. His dad handed him some cash to buy something to eat after school, which he usually didn't do and opted to save it for a better cause. His sister offered to take him out for lunch on the weekend. 

Of course, being the wonderful and amazing best friend that you were (your words), you always went out of your way to do something. Like this year, you presented him with a small cake slightly smushed in your lunch box with haphazardly thrown purple sprinkles.

“I made it from scratch,” you added with a big grin as you sat in front of his desk. His friends had left a few moments ago to play on the school grounds. He'd stayed back, finishing up the last of his lunch and letting it settle in his stomach before he ran around playing soccer. A small smile formed on his face; he could never dislike your enthusiasm for his birthday.

“It looks... artistic,” he said in an amused tone, looking up from the lunch box to your face, which was scrunched up in a frown.

“I didn't know the box would be small... And hey, I baked this for you; at least show some appreciation!”

Seungmin laughed. “Sorry, thank you for making this cake for me.” He meant that; he knew that you knew it too, because your shoulders relaxed, and you prompted him to take a bite and tell him how it tasted. There was a little too much sugar for his liking, but he didn't tell you that, instead nodding his head in approval and eating more of it. It was strawberry-flavored, his favorite. It warmed his heart that you always went out of your way to do things the way that he liked.

When he looked back at you, you were tucking a strand of hair back as you ate a spoonful. The longer he looked at you, the faster his heartbeat went, his body feeling hot right up to the tip of his ears. It was a weird feeling, but not foreign. Lately, it had been happening more often. He started seeing you in a different light, something other than a friend—not just any friend, but a childhood friend. He wasn't naive; he knew what crushes were, and he knew he had one on you.

It was a realization he had come across a few months ago when his family and yours went to the carnival over the summer and the two of you had gotten separated. He came home that day, heart tap dancing in his ribcage and a never-ending smile on his face from the way you jumped with excitement after you worked together to win the obviously rigged carnival games and winning a plushie.

Some part of him knew that. You liked him back as well; he hoped his brain wasn't playing tricks on him when he saw the way your eyes lit up after seeing him. The innocent friendship you two shared was morphing into something different—a good different. 

That evening, while the two of you were walking home after the extra classes you had, the crisp evening air sent a tingle down his spine as he walked along the pavement, listening to whatever you were talking about and adding his own insights whenever he felt like it.

“Oh, hey, look! Tteokbokki!” You said excitedly, pointing to the food cart run by a middle-aged woman serving the steaming hot spicy rice cakes to a few customers. With a tug of his arm, you dragged him over and ordered one spicy one for both of you to share. He didn't like eating spice as much as you did, but he didn't want to say no to you. After a short debate, he used his birthday money to pay for the food, and the two of you walked along the riverside slowly as you ate.

“Mm, these are good,” you let out a satisfied hum and continued eating.

“They are,” he agreed. The spice was present at the back of his throat, but it was weirdly good after the oversweet cake he had during lunch.

“It tastes good after eating that sugar monster I made, right?” Seungmin turned his head to look at you. “What? Don't give me that look, that cake was so sweet, how did you even finish the whole thing? It tasted like I dumped a whole box of sugar in the batter.”

“True… But you made it, so I wanted to eat it,” he admitted, feeling his face flush lightly. If you teased him about it, he was going to brush it off and blame it on the tteokbokki, but your own cheeks mimicked his, tinging red at his sudden admission. 

“Still,” you protested, “I'll have to make a better one that doesn't taste like cavities.”

“I like the oversweet one. Maybe I'm an extra sugar kinda person.”

"No, you're not.”

“It wasn't even that bad.”

“Now you're just lying.”

The two of you dissolved into laughter, finishing up the last of your food. The walk home continued in relative silence for a while, him mulling over his words and wondering if he made you uncomfortable because you were too quiet. Before he could make an apology, you spoke quietly.

“I'm glad you liked it, but I still wish I could've given you a better birthday present.”

He stared at the path in front of them, the streets lit up by lamps and porch lights. “You already gave me the perfect birthday present.”

You tilted your head to the side. “What?”

“You,” he blurted out, regretting his words the next second, but once he saw your flustered reaction, his nerves calmed a little. “Now let's go home and act surprised at whatever my parents planned.” You giggled in response and nodded, your footsteps falling in sync as you walked beside him.

“Happy birthday, Seungmin.”

“You said that like ten times today!”

 

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©hanjsquokka | copying, translating or republishing my work is strictly prohibited

[eclipsiolos]

BF!CHRIS x OVERTHINKER!READER headcannons

summary: what’s it like to be chris’s girlfriend, who is a really bad overthinker :)

warnings: contains smut!

ᯓᡣ𐭩 SFW

bf!chris who..

always makes sure to give you his undivided attention, hanging onto every word you say like it’s his first time having a conversation.

“mhm.. and what happened next, baby?”

“i’m listening, keep going.”

bf!chris who..

is always so patient with you, always making sure to be gentle and soothe you. reminding you that he’ll always be by your side.

“i’ve got you, ma. m’right here.”

“y-you promise you won’t leave?”

“never, baby. i love you.”

bf!chris who..

drops everything and runs over to you when you cry, not taking his eyes or arms off of you for a second.

“oh, my baby girl. c’mere..”

bf!chris who..

always texts you in the mornings, letting you know where he is at all times. and always keeps his location on.

chris ❤️:

hey beautiful

heading to some burger spot with matt & nick

call me when you can, i’ll be at yours at 3

bf!chris who..

is always so quick to reassure you when you’re having negative thoughts about absolutely anything.

“no, don’t ever say that fucking shit again, y’hear me?”

“wh—what?”

“you’re fucking beautiful and i’m yours, always.”

bf!chris who..

has any girl who isn’t a really-close friend blocked. who makes sure to delete any girl in his phone at your request, and doesn’t follow any unnecessary girls.

“who else, baby? this one? matter a fact—i’m blocking all of them.”

bf!chris who..

always shuts down any mentions about you not ‘deserving’ him, or breaking up.

“no, nope—we are not doing this.”

“we can work—we work, baby. you are mine, no matter what. end of the story. now c’mere.”

bf!chris who..

is constantly affectionate with you in public, making sure everyone knows that you’re his, and his only. he either has you in his lap, or has his arm around you while he makes out with you at parties & events.

bf!chris who..

kisses you in every place you feel insecure about, holding you in his arms as he reminds you constantly how beautiful you are.

“where else, baby? here?” he murmured as he placed open mouthed kisses on your face. “mine.” he added.

bf!chris who..

always cuddles with you when you guys go to sleep, holding you in either his arms, or he’s in yours. and never lets go, insisting he needs to have you close.

“mm.. no.. not moving..”

ᯓᡣ𐭩 NSFW

bf!chris who..

always makes sure to be constantly intimate with you, so he can remind you that he’s yours.

“c’mon, pretty. do y’feel it?”

“just for you…”

bf!chris who..

constantly praises you during sex. wanting you to know how good you’re doing for him

“oh—god—chris..”

“doin’ so good f’me, ma. so.. perfect.”

bf!chris who..

absolutely loves missionary, or any type of sex that involves you face to face with him. oh—and he loves when you ride him.

“y-yeah.. baby. ride me just like that. oh my god..”

“am—am i making you feel good?”

“so good, my love. g’na fill you up, yeah?”

bf!chris who..

hates it when you cover your face or muffle your moans with your hands. and is quick to remove them, wanting to see & hear you.

“no, ma. lemme see you. need to see how good m’making you feel..”

bf!chris who..

is perfect at aftercare, only for you. always taking his time with you, cuddling you & smothering you with kisses as he rubs your back.

“my beautiful baby.. you doin’ alright?”

“m-mhm.. just—tired..”

“get some rest, pretty. m’right here.”

💌 definitely making this a series, and my next blurb will be matt i promise 😭. if this is too short, lmk

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just Friends: Big News

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

masterlist

Summary: You have a surprise for Bucky.

It’s giving

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Hey!” You bounce up to the table. It’s funny how Bucky can look so intent. So gloomy in the midst of the bustling cafe. He sits up as he puts his phone down on the table. “I’m sorry I’m late. I got great news!” 

“Oh?” His brows lower, “well, you’re double sugar frappa-whatever is melting.” 

He points across the table as you sit and roll your eyes. 

“If you tried it, you wouldn’t be making fun of me. They are delicious!” You put your purse in your lap and take a long slurp through the straw. You pop your lips off and let out and ‘ahhhhh’. You smile at him as he gives you that look. 

“I don’t take sugar in my coffee and you barely take coffee in your sugar,” he drones. 

You giggle. He's always so grumpy about the smallest things. 

“News?” He prompts dully. 

“Right,” you wiggle in your seat. “I got you a date!” 

He twitches and tilts his head, “a date?” He gives you a cautious look and shifts in his seat. “Uh...” 

“Yes! This lawyer lady I know. I met her at a trivia night way back and added her on Insta. Well, I saw her post the other day and I was like how did I not think of this before?” 

“Lawyer?” He mutters. “I... you’re setting me up with a stranger?” 

“It’s a blind date. It’s fun. She’s really established and smart and beautiful. Oh my god, she posted this picture of her in a bikini—I could never wear something like that.” You get your phone out and he sighs. 

“Wait, why did you do that?” He grits. 

You look above the screen at him, “well, you said the other day that you get lonely. That’s why you have Alpine, right? And she’s so sweeeeet,” you drag out the word in adoration, “but you need someone you can talk to. Who can talk back.” 

“We talk,” he insists. 

“Yes, but we’re friends. You need someone your own age. Or closer to.” 

“Wait, how old is she?” He wonders. 

“Aha, you’re interested,” you point at him accusatorily. 

“I’m asking questions.” 

“Right, she’s... fifty something? She doesn’t look it. Like you. You don’t look... uh... 1917... carry the one...”  

“Stop that,” he demands. “I know how goddamn old I am.” 

“Ha, yeah, sorry, I...” you scroll through your Insta friends. “Here!” You turn the phone to him and beam a smile in his direction. He glances at it for a split second and shrugs. He sits back and drinks his coffee.

“I’m not really... in that scene,” he says. 

“You should get out there! I mean, you can’t bring Sam and Steve to dinner all the time. You need someone--” 

“Is this what it’s about? Because I showed up at the restaurant?” He asks. 

“No, it’s-- I’m being a friend. You two are so alike and she loves old movies and motorcycles. I could never! I'd fall off or not tie my helmet right,” you chuckle. 

“Dreamy,” he growls. 

“Bucky,” you whine back. “You gotta get out and have some fun.” 

“We have fun,” he counters. 

“We do and that’s awesome—Oh, okay, how about, I got an idea! A double date.” 

“A double—you have... a boyfriend?” He taps the porcelain cup with his metal fingertip. 

“Ha, no way. But I could find someone to come along. Just so you’re not alone. There’s a few guys at the restaurant I’m sure would go for a free meal or I mean I know other cute girls. I’m not picky.” 

He closes his eyes and a line forms between his brows. He pinches his nose and squares his shoulders. “Where the hell did you come up with the idea that I wanted to date?” 

“I...” you sit back and your smile falls. His blue eyes flick open as he drops his hand. The dimple in his cheek ticks. “I’m sorry, I thought it was—I was... trying to be a good friend.” 

He stares at you and the stone slowly eases from his jaw. He looks down and back up. He huffs. 

“I’m sorry, dreamy,” he says, “it’s just been a while for me. Not that I haven’t thought of it, you know? But I don’t know if I’m ready for that.” He shakes his head and glances around the cafe. “The last time I dance with a dame was a goddamn USO tour in 1945.” 

That hits you like a sixteen-wheeler. You didn’t know that. You didn’t think of it. He’s been in this world for a while and he’s handsome and a superhero! You just though he’d have lots of people interested. Charlize sure seemed excited when you asked. 

“And now you’re looking at me like I’m a loser because I haven’t kissed a gal in 80 years--” 

“No, you’re not a loser. If you are, then I am.” 

“Come on, you don’t gotta--” 

“Really. I never kissed anyone. Not lying.” 

He shakes his head and scoffs, “oh no, you’re not lying to make me feel better.” 

You put on your most sober face, “Bucky, I swear,” your cheeks burn and you put your hands on your neck. “I mean... it would be nice I’m sure but it just never came up.” He looks at you quietly. You squirm. “I know you can hear that I’m telling the truth.” 

“Yeah, I know,” he accepts at last. He crosses his arms and clicks his tongue, “fine. If you’re going to suffer through it, I will too.” He looks away as his jaw tenses, “if you’re going to keep pulling that puppy dog face, one day, it’s gonna wear off.” 

“Yes! Bucky’s got a date! Bucky’s got a date!” You sing out of tune. 

“Stop,” he snarls and narrows his eyes at you. You wince and giggle.  

“Yay!” You put your hands up in a demure celebration and he tuts. 

“You’re so cheesy,” he sneers. 

“And you’re a party pooper. No moping on date night, got it?” You try to put on a stern face and he squints even harder. Finally, he cracks and gives a chuckle. 

“You’re ridiculous,” he sniffs. “You and tough, don’t go together.” 

[robo-writing]

Hi hi! I read some of your work (amazing, 10/10 ILY) and saw that requests were open!!!

Like you have posted, I too am currently obsessed with Logan Howlett. (He could step on my toe and I’d THANK HIM AUUUGGGGH-)

Could I request some HC’s about Logan x afab!insecure!reader?

Like insecure about their intelligence, body type, overall looks- And who also just has general bad anxiety about every action they do? NSFW or SFW is completely okay 🫶

If not, that’s completely fine!! ILY TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF

Of course! SFW and NSFW below <3

SFW

✦He didn't get it at first, he thought you were just shy until he paid attention and realized you just weren't confident in yourself ✦The realization confused him even more, especially since he thought you were so talented. Unfortunately you just couldn't see it. ✦He's your number one fan, always encouraging you whenever you're doubting yourself ✦Stands up for you whenever people try to talk over you, he can also tell whenever you have something on your mind but you're too afraid to say it ✦Makes it his personal mission to compliment your looks. If you're comfortable with physical touch he is SO handsy, if you're not he makes it known how beautiful you are; compliments your outfits, your hair, spends entire minutes just staring at you (you're always embarrassed but it only encourages him further.)

He’s got you nestled in his arms, not really paying attention to the cheesy action film playing in the background. No, he’s more focused on you, on your hair, your eyes, your face—

“—You’re staring again,” you say, looking up at him.

Caught red-handed, he doesnt make any effort to hide his gaze. “I know I am.”

His words make your face hot. You try to turn away but he doesn’t let you, hands pulling your face back to him.

“Don’t shy away from me baby, just wanna look at you for a while,” he sighs, kissing your temple. “Is it illegal to look at my girl?”

You’re giggling, both at his antics and his cheesy line. His lips trail closer and closer, lips brushing before he captures your own in a warm embrace. Slow, melodic, a kiss that makes both body and mind melt.

“Never gonna stop looking at my girl,” he breathes. “I can promise you that.”

NSFW

✦Like I said, he makes it his job to show you just how pretty you are. ✦Spends so much time touching you, teasing you, that by the time he takes your clothes off you're begging for more ✦Fingers you in front of a mirror to show you just how pretty you are, pulling your head back forward when you turn away. Will stop if you stop looking. ✦Nicknames galore. Baby, darling, sweet cheeks, all of which make your heart melt. ✦Locks your hands in his when you try to cover your face. No hiding from him.

Logan’s arm holds you tight to his chest, legs forcing your own apart while his free hand plays with your pussy. Large fingers rub against your sensitive clit with vigor while you shake in his arms, a strong grip keeping you right where you are.

“Come on doll, remember our deal,” he growls, hand reaching up to your face. “Don’t make me hold your chin.”

Your reflection stares back at you, a lecherous reminder of your previous agreement; No looking away, or he stops.

His words ring in your ears along with the sound of your cunt, the soft squelch of his fingers echoing throughout the room. You grab at his arm, nails scratching at his skin, your voice high pitched as you cry his name.

“Gonna come, please—“ you whine. The hand on your neck faces you forward, and it’s now you can see the predator stare of your boyfriend behind you, desire alight in his eyes. His hair sticks to his forehead, adding to the menacing gaze he gives you through the mirror.

“Look at yourself when you do.” He whispers, and on command your juices soak his hand.

[lilacbunnygirl]

bitch,uber to my d*ck

uber driver gojo x fem reader

➵ summary: after that “terrible” sex you had that night, you go to a bar. seeing you drunk until closing time, the bartender calls you an Uber. you never imagined the driver could be this sexy and straightforward. who knows, maybe after that “terrible” sex, he might give you a good one…

➵ warnings: this story contains +18 content (alcohol, car sex (reader on top), unprotected sex, oral sex (f and m receiving) ) so minors don’t interact!!

➵ author’s note: hello everyone! i was supposed to write the third chapter of “black cat luck”, but i’ve been very busy this week. yesterday, an idea came to me. why am i not writing about the uber driver gojo? I just thought it’ll be so fun and dirty to write! i hope you’ll like it. i’ll also share this story on ao3, so if you like to support me, my account is here. and lastly i have no hatred for turtles, and i never will! you’ll understand what i mean once you read the story. sending love to everyone <333 lilacbunnygirl

➵ word count: 4.791

You definitely shouldn’t have drunk this much tonight. It was already Monday, and you had a very important presentation. Working in an advertising company was a highly stressful job. Convincing the client to like your ideas and then landing the job was a feeling you had never experienced before. But this time, everything was going to be different. During the brainstorming meeting, your project director loved the slogan you came up with for crackers and wanted you to handle the presentation.

“Eat until you’re full, if you can of course!”

You never understood why he liked it. In fact, it could easily be seen as quite suggestive. It sounded like, instead of crackers, a penis came to mind. But of course, this wasn’t a fake penis ad… Still, it seemed like a memorable slogan.

Right now, you should have been home, asleep. It was 2 a.m. You were going to get up in about 5 hours to go to work. But after that “stress-relieving sex before a presentation,” you definitely needed a drink. Or maybe a few…

You thought it was a good idea to relax by having sex the day before the presentation. Let go of all the stress and just focus on pleasure… After a long time, you re-downloaded Tinder and matched with a guy who seemed really attractive. What both of you wanted was clear. A hot night. You started getting ready 4 hours before the date. You took a shower. Shaved your legs and bikini area. You even exfoliated to make your skin soft. Afterward, you poured yourself some white wine, turned on your music to set the mood, and began preparing. Nothing could ruin your mood today. After the final touches on your makeup, you looked in the mirror. You really looked “fuckable.”

When you arrived at the meeting place, the guy greeted you very well. A delicious meal, light touches, and wine had already put you both in the mood for sex.

Of course, that was until you got into bed…

With those memories, you hit your drunk head against the bar counter again. You thought to yourself, “Goddamn it.” You had bad sex experiences before, but this one… was so bad that it was beyond words.

None of the places he kissed, touched, or licked managed to get you wet. Maybe the part where he fingered you (or we can say tried to) wasn’t too bad, but the moment he entered you, the pain you felt and his weird groaning sounds confirmed that today was going to be awful.

Who the hell groaned like a turtle? You had nothing against turtles. But hearing those noises from the person in front of you completely killed your libido. Sure, turtles groaning during sex was cute and funny, but the person in front of you wasn’t a turtle.

You banged your head on the counter again and sighed. Realizing there was only a drop of your drink left, you raised your head and downed the last of it. Then you looked at the bartender, whose vision was debatable due to your drunken state.

“Hey! You were supposed to stop me after my third drink.”

The bartender, as he put down the glass he was cleaning, replied, “My job is to serve drinks, not stop you from drinking.”

You frowned and said, “I thought they helped in the movies.”

The bartender grinned. “Exactly, because they’re movies. Also, if you’re going to throw up, please don’t do it on the counter. We’re closing soon, and I don’t want to go home late because of cleaning the bar table. The bathroom’s right there.”

You looked in the direction he pointed, but since you were so drunk, everything looked like it was swaying.

“Oh, don’t worry, I don’t feel sick, I just drank wayyyy too much. At home, 2 glasses of wine, at the date 2 glasses, and when I got here…” You tried to count how much you’d drunk on your fingers, but the bartender answered for you, “Six. Six glasses of whiskey. My god, how are you still alive?”

“Don’t worry, after everything I went through today, I really needed it.”

“I probably shouldn’t ask, but… did you have a bad date?”

You steadied your spinning head with your hand propped on the counter. “The worst. I mean, everything started out great. But when we got to the part we both wanted the most… POOF, the whole vibe was gone.”

The bartender laughed at your story and said, “Hmm. So it was bad sex i guess.”

You slammed your hand on the counter and said, “Oh my god, the worst. For the first time in my life, I had sex with a turtle…”

The bartender looked at you in shock after your last words. “Okay! Maybe I really should have stopped you after that third drink.”

“I’m serious! He was like a turtle. Ugh, no, I think I’m going to cry. I just wanted to relax before my big presentation. A good night of sex, some hot moments… You know, a nice way to release the stress. But the only thing today has left me with is being too drunk. Oh, and turtle trauma.” After finishing your story, you rested your head back on the counter.

“Then I probably shouldn’t tell you about my pet turtle, Dorothy.”

You quickly lifted your head off the counter. “NO, PLEASE DON’T!”

The bartender laughed while cleaning more glasses. “Don’t worry, I won’t. But a little advice for you: you really shouldn’t be drunk the night before a presentation, beautiful. It’s almost 3 a.m. and you should be sleeping in your bed right now, not sitting here talking about turtle man you had sex with.”

Whether it was the bad experience or the alcohol, the bartender’s words had suddenly turned you on. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but everything you’re saying is making me want to fuck you even more. Please call me ‘beautiful ’ again.”

The bartender laughed genuinely as he hung the clean glasses on the bar rack. “Alright then, I’ll be honest. I would definitely love to fuck you, beautiful. But not while you’re in this state. I don’t know what happened today with that turtle guy, but if I had been in his place, I wouldn’t have stopped until you’d come at least five times, with my tongue deep inside you to help you forget all the stress.”

Every word he said made your eyes widen even more. Holy shit, you were really wet now. And the bartender had managed that without even touching you.

“I… I think I’m wet.”

A sweet smile appeared on the bartender’s face. “Remember when I showed you the bathroom, darling?” You nodded your head in agreement. You didn’t actually remember, but you’d figure it out somehow. “Alright, do you think you can go on your own? Wash your face and try to pull yourself together. I’ve got a few more glasses to clean up over here. After that, I can call a cab to get you home.”

You nodded again, and despite wobbling a bit, you managed to make it to the bathroom. After splashing cold water on your face, you felt a little better. Even though you wanted him to make you come 5 times with his mouth, right now wasn’t the time. When you got back, the bartender had finished his work and was waiting for you at the front of the bar, holding your coat and bag.

“Welcome back! Feeling better?”

“Yes. But my head is still spinning. Could I give you my phone to call an Uber? I don’t think I can manage to enter the address myself.”

The bartender helped you into your coat and took your phone. He asked for your address. After stuttering a little, you finally told him, and he typed it in.

“Alright, it’ll be here in five minutes. Do you want to step outside for some fresh air?”

“Please…”

He supported you as you walked toward the exit. About seven minutes later, a black car pulled up in front of the bar. Once you realized it was your ride, you turned to the bartender and said, “Thanks for everything.”

The bartender gave you a sweet smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t stop you after your third drink, beautiful.” He planted a soft kiss on your cheek and said, “Take care, and by the way, my name’s Choso.”

Damn… if only I weren’t so drunk, you thought to yourself before waving goodbye and getting into the car.

After getting in, the driver started the car and began driving towards your house.

“Seems like someone can’t leave their lover behind,” the driver said.

You lifted your head and looked at him. With nearly white hair and sunglasses worn for no apparent reason at this hour he didn’t exactly exude reliability.

“I wish he were my boyfriend. But he just helped me pull myself together. Why do bartenders have to be so handsome?”

“Hmm… he really sounds like a gentleman. So, may I ask why you’re this drunk, sweetheart?”

“I had sex with turtle man.”

The driver let out a loud laugh, as if he hadn’t heard something so funny in a long time. “Oh, sounds fun. But you don’t seem too happy about it.”

Sighing, you replied, “When he couldn’t get me wet no matter what he did, and then started moaning like a mating turtle… yeah, I guess I wasn’t too happy.”

The driver spoke excitedly, “OH MY GOD, I’VE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING AS FUNNY AS MOANING TURTLES!” But then, seeing your unhappy face through the rearview mirror, he added, “Of course, that’s just for turtles. If someone I was fucking made that noise, I’d be upset too.”

“Forget it. At least I have a funny story to tell people. I just… really needed to relax before my big presentation tomorrow, but everything got ruined.”

A sly grin appeared on the driver’s face after what you said. “You should’ve tried hooking up with the bartender.”

You quickly shifted your gaze from the road to the rearview mirror. The driver’s mischievous smile was awakening strange feelings inside you. Damn, could someone’s smile be that attractive? And why were you getting turned on so easily? First the bartender, now the driver…

“Actually, he said he wanted to sleep with me, but not in this state.”

“How unfortunate… because I would’ve definitely pinned you to the bar table and screwed you without caring if you were drunk or not, sweetheart.”

Wait… what?

“Excuse me?”

The driver laughed, “What? Weren’t you the one who wanted to relax?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then like I said, I would’ve fucked you so well, you’d have no strength left to go to work.” After stopping at a red light, the driver turned to look at you. “Want to give it a try?”

“Am I in a porno right now, or are you seriously saying this? Damn it, I shouldn’t have had six drinks!”

With a cocky smirk, he said, "Oh, trust me, this isn't a porno, sweetheart. Right now, alll want is to take you to an empty, quiet parking lot just eight minutes away and fuck you until you're screaming my name." As the light turned green, the driver started moving again.

You sat in the back seat, completely shocked and unsure of how to react, but a part of you was tempted to accept his offer. You'd never gotten a proposal like his from an Uber driver before. Why would you? How did you even end up with this guy as your driver?

You closed your eyes and imagined yourself with the driver. He didn't look bad, and you didn't think he could be worse in bed than the turtle man. On the contrary, he seemed like someone who knew exactly which buttons to push on your body.

"Alright."

"Huh? What did you say?"

"You've got five minutes to get me to that parking lot and fuck me, driver."

His soft laughter filled the car. "As you wish, ma'am."

He made a sharp turn, pulling an illegal U-turn, and sped toward the parking lot. Not exactly one for following rules, you thought. What else could you expect from a guy who makes inappropriate propositions to his drunk passengers?

He had arrived at the parking lot, which he had mentioned would take eight minutes, in almost half the time. The place was eerily quiet, with not even a security guard in sight. Why the hell had you agreed to this? He was definitely a serial killer. As your worries began to escalate, the driver parked the car, pulled the handbrake, and quickly got out, slamming the door shut. Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched him walk around to your side of the car.

This was it. You were going to die without ever seeing your cheesy, filthy slogan on a billboard.

He opened the door beside you and cupped your face in his hands, gently stroking your skin as he bit his lip. That lip bite alone was enough to make your underwear damp. Leaning closer to your ear, he whispered, “I hope you'll enjoy the ride, ma’am.”

When he brought his face back to yours, you saw the smirk on his lips. Just as you were about to respond, his lips captured yours.

At first, his kiss was soft, exploring your lips, but the moment he brought his tongue into play, everything became wild. His tongue seemed desperate to explore every inch of your mouth, driving you insane. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss as you leaned back on the rear seat, bringing him on top of you. He moaned into your mouth at the shift. His lips left yours, trailing down to your chin, which he licked and bit softly.

“Fuck, you’re so soft I could kiss you forever…”

You moaned in response. When his lips finally reached your neck, you felt like you might pass out.

This was what you wanted. Someone who knew how to drive you crazy with every touch.

He kissed and licked every inch of your neck. “Do you like it, sweetheart? Please, let me mark you… I need to claim you.”

“Ahh…you don’t even need to ask.”

The moment you gave him permission, he sank his teeth into your delicate skin and sucked hard.

“Ahhh…fuck, please…more.”

You felt his smirk against your skin. He pulled back just for a second to remove his sunglasses, and for the first time in your life, you saw the most piercing blue eyes. You stared at him, shocked.

“Like what you see?”

“Yes…” You had no idea what else to say. You didn’t think you’d ever seen someone this sexy.

“Most women say the same thing.” He leaned back down to kiss your lips again.

He hadn’t lost an ounce of his hunger, kissing you just as passionately as before. His hands found the straps of your dress, and he slowly slid them down. When he lowered his head to look at your bare breasts, a low growl escaped his throat.

“From the moment I saw you through the car window, I wanted to put these in my mouth so badly…” One of his hands cupped your right breast, squeezing it gently. When his fingers pinched your nipple, you couldn’t help but moan. He buried his face in your neck again, his hand still teasing your sensitive nipple.

“God… please, I need you to suck them…”

Kissing his way down to your chest, he looked up at you with those bright blue eyes. “Satoru. My name is Satoru. Say my name, sweetheart. I want to hear it from that pretty little mouth of yours while I suck on your nipples.” Without another word, he latched onto your left breast. First he kissed the soft skin around it then teasing your nipple with his tongue, while his hand played with the other breast.

“Satoru…ohhh…mhmm.”

The moment you moaned his name, he took your nipple into his mouth.

“FUCK…GOD…”

He bit and tugged at it, licked and teased, giving you sensations you never imagined possible. After a while, he pulled back, panting, and looked at your breasts. “Pink, round, and so soft…” He gave another teasing lick to your left breast. “My favorite…”

When he finished with your left breast, he quickly moved to the right, giving it the same attention. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pushing his face closer, letting him know you wanted more.

“Please suck harder…they need to be bitten and sucked harder.” He obeyed, sucking harder. You knew if he continued, you’d orgasm from just this. You never thought it was possible to come just from having your breasts sucked on.

Satoru pulled back, gasping for air, and quickly pulled up the hem of your dress. When he saw the black lace thong, he looked like he might lose his mind.

“You’ll need to lean back a little, sweetheart. I need room to eat your pussy.”

Hearing his raspy voice, you sat up and leaned back against the car door. You were starting to sober up a little.

Once he had the space to move, he started kissing your inner thighs. He bit and sucked every spot he kissed. You moaned softly, wanted him to give you more hickeys.

“You need me to mark you so badly, don’t you sweetheart? Tell me, did that guy ever bite you like this?”

“Ugh…ha…no..” Your voice was weak. Satoru bit your right thigh hard enough to nearly break the skin. Then he said, “Louder, I can’t hear you!”

“OHH…NO…THEY DIDN’T…GOD PLEASE…LICK MY PUSSY, SATORU!”

He licked the spot he’d just bitten and looked at you with that signature smirk. “As you wish ma'am. My passenger’s comfort is always my priority.”

At first, he placed soft, wet kisses on your thong. Each kiss nearly sent you over the edge. He was driving you wild.

“SATORU, IF YOU DON’T PUT YOUR TONGUE IN- OHHH…YES YES, RIGHT THERE….!”

Before you could finish speaking, he had already pushed your thong aside and started running his tongue over your folds. “Be patient. I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart. Just focus on feeling good.”

You did as he said, squirming as his tongue worked away all your tension. He licked every inch of your inner walls and sucked your clit clammily every time he reached it.

“Satoru…there…right there…”

“Here?” SLURP. SLURP.SLURP

“MMMFFP…OH YES YES, SATORU, KEEP SUCKING…”

“I could do this forever, sweetheart. You’re so wet, my mouth is covered in your juices.” His words, combined with the friction from his mouth, were driving you crazy. Without a warning, he shoved two fingers inside you.

"AGH- SATORU...IT HURTS!"

"You're so tight.. I don't know how you're going to take my cock. But l'Il do my best to help you, sweetheart. Now tell me, how many times have you fucked before?"

"Ohh...not many...ughh..faster..."

"By the time l'm done with you, this moment will be unforgettable. No matter who you date or marry, you'll always think of me. AGGH..ONLY. ME. ONLY...fuck.."

"SATORU, I'M SO CLOSE..."

"That stupid bartender could never do this to you. NEVER. Your walls will never grip him the way they're gripping my fingers. CUM ON MY FINGERS, SWEETHEART... I WANT EVERY DROP!"

"OHHH..GOD!"

He pumped his fingers in and out a few more times, feeling your walls tighten around them. When he saw the liquid spill from you, he immediately put his mouth on you and drank every last drop. Fuck. You'd never seen any man get this excited about making you cum. Every guy you'd been with before had only gone down on you to get you off, but Satoru... it was like this was his life's purpose. Every second seemed to make him the happiest man alive.

You were so aroused by the situation that you lifted Satoru’s face, who was still licking you, and made him look at you. His mouth was completely covered in your juices, and his eyes were half closed in pleasure. Pulling his face closer, you wanted to taste yourself from his lips.

“Hmphh… Satoru, lean back on the seat.”

Like a soldier following orders, he moved to sit in the middle of the back seat. As he leaned back, he pulled you onto his lap, guiding you on top of him. As your lips began exploring his neck, you asked, “Do you want me to bite?”

“Please…” he replied, his voice hoarse with approval, and without wasting any time, you began biting and sucking on his neck.

“Have you ever done something like this with another passenger before?” you asked, feeling his grip on your hips tighten as his hot breath hit your neck.

“Ugh… no. But some have wanted it.”

You could swear a smug grin appeared on your face. A sudden wave of jealousy surged inside you, and you pulled your head back to look at his face. Just as you thought, he was smiling…

“Good. I’ve got a little gift for you to make sure you never forget this moment, Satoru…”

As your hands found his bulge, Satoru moaned loudly. “Ahh… I always love gifts, darling.”

There was enough room for you to lean down. You slid off his lap, positioning yourself lower. Kneeling before him, you planted a soft kiss on his manhood through his pants.

“Ugh… I guess it’s my turn to have a comfortable ride…”

You gave him a lustful smirk. With a swift motion, you unbuckled his belt and pulled down his zipper. When you pulled down both his pants and boxers…

Oh… okay, it was really big.

Your eyes widened at the sight. Seeing your reaction, Satoru teased, “HAHAHAHA. Did I scare you, darling?” His tone was challenging.

“Never.” Your firm response was followed by your hands wrapping around his cock, stroking it lightly, which was enough to make him curse. After a bit more stroking, you slowly licked the tip of his cock with your tongue.

“FUCK… PLEASE…”

“Be patient, Satoru.” You echoed his earlier words back to him, and without wasting any time, you took his big, thick cock into your mouth.

FUCK.

Satoru’s hands found your hair, helping you maintain a steady rhythm. Inside the car, the only sound was you gagging. Sucking his cock was turning you on so much that you wanted more. You wanted to take it all in.

“STORRO… MO… MORROO”

“Hm, what did you say… Ugh, sweetheart, yes, yes… DO YOU WANT MORE, HUH? TAKE IT!”

When his hands pushed your head down to take all of his cock in your mouth, the tears that had been building up finally spilled.

“JUST LIKE THAT… EVERY TIME YOU FEEL THAT SORENESS IN YOUR THROAT TOMORROW, REMEMBER WHO FUCKED IT, SWEETHEART… UGH YES YES…”

Even though you were choking and gagging, you didn’t want to stop. Even though your throat was getting raw, you didn’t care. All you wanted was to satisfy him, to taste how sweet his cum would be when he finished in your mouth.

“Baby… I’m so… so close… Fuck… fuck… just a bit more…”

You held on. With all your strength, you waited for him to come in your mouth.

“OUHHHH… FUCKKK….”

As his white fluid filled your mouth, you moaned and tried to swallow it all. It came so fast and uncontrollably that some even dribbled out of your mouth. Slowly pulling away, you planted another kiss on the tip of his cock before climbing back onto his lap.

Satoru was completely spent. His head fell back, his breathing was uneven, and his eyes were closed. You kissed him softly on the lips. “Hmm… I think that was the best thing I’ve eaten today.”

He opened his eyes and chuckled lightly. He licked the cum that had dripped from your mouth down to your neck. “Trust me, sweetheart, nothing tastes as sweet as you. Now… are you ready for the main ride?”

“But you just came…?”

He stroked your face with his left hand. “Ah, for you, I’m always ready, sweetheart.”

You were shocked to feel his cock still hard beneath you. How could he be ready for another round just two minutes after coming? Was this man a god or something?

While you wrestled with your thoughts, he roughly pulled down your thong, tearing it in the process. “AGGH HEY! That was my favorite thong!”

Raising an eyebrow, he replied, “Do you think I care, sweetheart?”

“You should.”

“Oh. Too bad because the only thing I care about is getting inside that tight, warm pussy of yours.” As he lifted you slightly and aligned himself with your entrance, a thought crossed your mind. “Satoru, wait! The condom—OH MY GOD, SATORU…”

Before you could finish your sentence, he thrust into you hard. His large hands gripped your waist, bouncing you up and down on him.

“Ughh… fuck… you’re so tight… I could come again immediately…”

“Satoru… oh god… all this time, I’ve been using Uber, and you show up now? I must’ve seen you before… ughh”

“Believe me, darling, if I had seen you before… -SMACK-… I would have made this offer… -SMACK-… then too.”

Burying your face in Satoru’s neck, you let him take control. He was slamming into you with all his strength. When you bit his neck to stifle your moans, Satoru suddenly stopped.

“Why… why did you stop?”

“If you try to hide your moans again, I’ll take you home without finishing.” His threatening words were followed by him lifting your hips slightly before continuing to thrust into you.

“Ohhh… Satoru… harder, please…”

As he pounded into you harder, you arched your back, wanting to feel the pleasure even more. Your hands clutched at Satoru’s chest. Seeing your breasts bouncing as you moved, Satoru leaned forward and began sucking on them while still fucking you.

Your hands instinctively found his head. You pressed his head into your breasts, not wanting him to pull away. At the same time, you moved your hips, making sure his cock hit your g-spot with each thrust.

“Satoru… I’m about to come… ohhh… please…”

“Hold on a bit longer, baby… you can’t come until I say so.”

He pulled away from your breasts, and your eyes locked. You were overwhelmed by all your emotions. You didn’t think you’d ever experience something like this again.

“Baby… I’m so close AGHHH…”

“SATORU…. FUCK…”

With Satoru’s words, you let go of the orgasm you had been trying to hold back. As the pleasure surged through your body, you felt Satoru release inside you. The warmth filling your pussy was indescribable…

As Satoru leaned back in exhaustion, he pulled you on top of him. Resting your head on his chest, you tried to steady your breathing while a slogan you’d come up with for a cracker ad popped into your head.

“Now I understand more clearly what it means to never get enough…”

Satoru laughed. “Women usually can’t get enough of my cock.”

“Asshole... You might’ve actually rocked my world.”

He kissed the top of your head. “You’re welcome.”

Closing your eyes, you rested a bit longer on Satoru’s chest.

Ten minutes later, as if nothing had happened, you both left the deserted parking lot and headed to your home. You were completely sober now, and there wasn’t a trace of stress left about the presentation. But you might have developed a new addiction: your late night Uber driver…

“Well, is it too late to ask what you do for a living?”

You laughed at Satoru’s question. “Maybe just a bit… I’m in the creative department at an ad agency. My department head liked the slogan I came up with for a cracker ad, so he asked me to present it at meeting on Monday. Which means today...”

“Oh, I love crackers! So, what’s the slogan?”

“Eat until you’re full, if you can of course!”

“HAHAHA. I like it, it’s catchy and a little… naughty.”

Rolling your eyes at his words, you replied, “Yeah, I know…”

The rest of the ride was quiet. When you arrived in front of your house, Satoru stopped the car. Your handsome driver turned to you. “Well, I hope your journey was pleasant and safe, ma'am. Don’t forget to leave a rating, please!”

“You can be sure I’ll give you five stars, driver. Thanks for the ride.” You leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on the lips before stepping out of the car.

Satoru didn’t leave until you were inside your apartment. As he remembered the slogan you had shared earlier, he threw his head back and let out a deep laugh.

“God… after today, I don’t think I could ever get enough of you…”

(satoru gojo art by @narutoss_ramen on x)

@lilacbunnygirl don't copy or translate my works.

[billthedrake]

I've been wanting to write a chubby chaser story for a while, and this is what I came up with. It's not everyone's cup of tea, I know, but for those into it, I hope to do a follow up to go deeper.

CHASER BAIT

I reracked the weights and sat up on the bench. I'd have a better workout with a spotter, but I also enjoyed the quiet of the Stanford weight room at moments like this. It was summer session, and the football team was starting their summer pre-season camp. I'd have some consultations with a number of the athletes later on that afternoon, but for now they were all in a morning-long meeting.

All except for one.

"Hey Coach," came the familiar voice, though it took me a half second to place it. But I looked up to see Tyler Mills, all 6 foot 3 of him. Tyler was must have been a senior now. I'd worked a lot with him in his sophomore year, after he got his knee banged up pretty bad and had to rehab after surgery.

"Tyler," I said. "How's it going, man? How's the knee?"

I saw a look of sadness sweep behind the bright affable smile. "OK, I guess," he said, shuffling some on his feet. He was wearing shorts and an oversized Stanford T, and even beneath the draping shirt, I could tell that trim, buff Tyler Mills had put on a few pounds. "A lot better, actually, but I'm not on the roster now. They still let me come get a work out in, you know, hang out with the guys."

My heart ached for the guy. They hadn't taken away his scholarship, but the injury had taken away his football dreams.

I gave a sympathetic nod but mostly flashed a buddy kind of smile. "You know, if you want me to take a look at your knee, I can."

I was surprised by the flash of thrill in his brown eyes. "For real?" Then catching himself, he added, "I don't want you to have to do anything you're not supposed to, Coach."

I wasn't one of the main coaching staff. Instead I'd been brought in to do a combination of strength coaching and physical therapy for all the big Stanford teams, but football especially. Half the jocks called me Mr. Carson, half just Coach C. Tyler was in the Coach camp.

"You can see how busy I am right now," I joked, gesturing around to the near empty weight room. "How's this? You can spot me for the next couple of sets, and then we'll go get set up in the back room."

He bounded over behind the rack like an excited puppy.

He wasn't the only thing excited. I had to will my cock to stay soft or at least normal sized as I lay back and could see up into that oversized shirt. Tyler Mills had a classic ex-jock beer belly. Probably a solid twenty pounds that hung in a perfectly round swell just over the hem of his shorts.

I channeled that flash of lust into a great set, even with the extra weight. And I forced myself to be normal as I made small talk with Tyler as I rested a second.

Most of the time I'm professional as can be. I'm an out and proud gay dude, even if I keep a low profile at work. Even though I'm around very in-shape young athletes, there's generally not my type. It took a number of years to fully admit it, and many more years to fully explore it, but I'm a chubby chaser. A couple of the D-line guys have the girth that might capture my attention, but generally I was safe, no matter how hands-on I might be in my job.

Tyler Mills wasn't a chub, but something about that belly made that sense of safety go out the window.

He spotted me for a max-weight rep, then encouraged me like I was one of his gym buddies. "Beast!" he grunted.

I rubbed out the soreness then stood up from the bench. If I didn't know better, I would have thought Tyler was looking at me in that way, but he made some comment about how in shape I was. "You're definitely giving me goals, Coach," he said.

I was in shape. I'd been a lacrosse player at Maryland and after doing some personal training after college, I'd gone for my PhD in kinesiology. I was now religious about working out and eating right. I was 39 and not going to enter my 40s without doing my damnedest to resist getting older.

I led Tyler back to the room that was set up with a table and some basic rehab equipment - bands, small weights, balancing balls and the like.

I had him get on the table and asked him to update me.

"I've been doing my exercises, Coach," he said. "Maybe not religiously, but you know..."

I nodded and sat down in a chair next to the table. I was thankful for the XXL T-shirt and the way it didn't show off Tyler's belly. Tyler's legs were still big and tautly muscled.

"You able to do leg day now?" I asked, my hands massaging the right quad muscle and working down to knee.

"Yeah," he said. "With some adaptation."

"How's this feel?" I asked. A year and a half ago, the wide receiver would be wincing in pain the moment I touched anywhere near his knee.

"Normal," he said. He was looking down at me seriously, and I could tell the memories of our earlier rehab sessions were coming back to him.

I worked closer to the joint and pressed in with my fingers.

"Oh!" he gasped. "That hurts."

I let go and massaged down his calf. Then back up to the hamstrings. His legs were hairier than last time I'd had a PT session with him. I loved how soft his light brown fur was.

"Your hamstrings are way tight," I observed.

I pulled back and patted his thigh. "All right, let's do some simple body weight squats."

I worked him through a number of diagnostic exercises. He did them well, but quickly we found where his range of motion was compromised and the spots that gave him a sore pain.

He looked at me expectantly. The ex-jock had a soft scruffy beard now, kept trimmed, and he looked about five years older than when I last worked with him. But he still was young and had that innocence to his face.

"I can give you some new exercises to work on," I said. "What do you think of a weekly PT session... to check in?"

That surprised Tyler. "God, Coach, that would be incredible."

"It'd have to be bright and early," I said. The Athletics Department had a full day for me, and I knew I couldn't prioritize a kid not on the roster. But I could take an earlier train. I was probably crazy to volunteer this, but I was thinking with my dick, I knew. Besides, Tyler was a nice guy. One of those jocks who could be a beast on the football field but a sweetie off.

"I got nothing else going on, Coach," he agreed affably.

I gave him a bro-ish fist bump and told him I should get back to my workout. I had only twenty minutes or so before the morning team huddles were over.

The whole ride home I was questioning myself. Certainly my professionalism was going out the window. But at least Tyler Mills wasn't on the roster. And I really was helping the guy out.

I got home and even though I was hungry for dinner, I set down my keys and went to my bedroom, where a comfy bed and some lube was ready for a quick stroke. I kicked off my shoes and pushed down my joggers. My prick was already ready, jerking up into a rigid spike as I pulled down the covers. A couple of squirts in my palm was just the right amount for a good JO. I lay back and visualized Tyler Mills' belly. That twenty pound belly sticking out above me. I imagined him lifting his shirt for me, showing off that magnificent round girth, that ex-jock gut.

I shot hard.

****

I spend my teen years in denial and my college years sure that I was majorly fucked up for my kink. I'd grown up in a small town, with a bunch of Southern bubbas and men who were just big guys. My high school football coach, the vice principal, the neighbor dad next door, my boss at my summer job. Men who were thick all over but especially their bellies. They were the stars of my masturbation fantasies. To this day, I have a fetish for big guts filling out a button-down and hanging over a pair of khakis, especially framed by a Sunday-best blue blazer.

I moved away, away from the Southern bubbas and even from blue blazer country. But I eventually made peace with the fact I was almost exclusively into overweight guys. I discovered chubby porn and the chub/chaser subculture. I had my first real job with the Packers organization, learning and apprenticing there before getting a promotion. There was a lot of Wisconsin beef around that was fun to look at, but I didn't get to play with big guys as much as I wanted. I'd take trips to the city, to Chicago especially, where I lined up new chubs to fuck each visit.

I was in demand, too, as a chaser. Most chasers tend to be either twink-thin, or else have mild bellies themselves. I actually tried to gain weight once, until I realized that I had better luck attracting chubs with a fit, muscular jock body.

I started doing videos and developed a following. It was my man whore period. I wasn't always nice to the chubs I fucked. I regret that, and I took some time to learn how to be better. It was a tricky song and dance. I was attracted to them for who they were, but the power differential was a real turn on for me, too.

I got the job at Stanford and moved to San Francisco. It was incredible. I dated casually and slept around a lot. I got to know some fellow chasers, who became friends and competition all at once. Even in a big city, the chub/chaser scene could feel incestuous.

I had one experience with a superchub, a genuinely obese guy. It freaked me out a little, actually, but it was also thrilling to try it. It felt taboo as fuck.

But lately my lust swung the other direction. I got tired of the "chub" look and began getting more into regular guys. I'll call 'em dadbod-plus. Men with big beer bellies who reminded me of some of the hometown bubbas. I had about three off-and-on fuckbuds, mostly married guys from the Bay Area who'd come in, plus an occasional businessman hookup.

Life was good.

****

Or at least I thought it was good until Tyler Mills.

Something about that college senior got under my skin. He wasn't even that big. On his muscular 6'3" body, he carried that bulk well. And compared to the men I normally slept with, Tyler was actually kind of normal.

It was the third PT session when I asked him what his goals were.

He blushed. "To lose weight," he said. "I guess I got kind of depressed last year and put on some pounds."

I gulped. That horny knot was forming in my chest but I tried not to be weird. "It happens," I said nonchalantly.

"Not to you," Tyler beamed. His eyes sweeping up and down my 6-foot-and-buff body. "You're an inspiration, Coach." Then as he did a one-legged dip, he asked, "You got a girlfriend or anything?... Sorry, that's really fucking nosey."

"It's all right," I assured him. "No boyfriend," I said pointedly. If Mills was going to ask about my personal life, he could deal with the answer. "Maybe I'm not the dating type."

I expected surprise, but the former footballer was doing his best to act cool. "Like I said... sorry for being nosey, Coach."

Still Tyler had a more relaxed posture and his eyes seemed to be seeking out something from me. Approval, an opening, or something.

"I sometimes think it would be easier to be straight," he said.

It was my turn to be surprised. I know I didn't hide it well. Tyler grinned as he noticed.

"How so?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Girls can be into the whole teddy bear thing," he said like he'd been giving a lot of thought to it. Maybe he had. "Gay dudes have pretty high expectations."

My hands were on his waist now as I assisted his body weight squat. I really wanted to actively feel up the love handles but kept my calm.

"Can I give some real talk, Tyler?" I offered softly.

"Sure thing, Coach." I could tell he was nervous about what I was going to say.

"There are a lot of men open to some extra girth..." I said, letting that idea sink in. "And even if not... a guy doesn't have to be a chaser to go for a good looking dude like you."

"Oh," he said. I'd said the wrong thing.

"You know what a chaser is?" I asked.

I could see Tyler blush. "Yeah," he said. He seemed almost sullen now. "You think I'm a fat guy, Coach?"

"Hardly," I said. Trying to keep my lust in check, since I knew I was dealing with a fine young man's real emotions. "God's truth. And there are plenty of guys who'd be into the ex-jock package."

I'd probably said the wrong thing there, too, since I knew Tyler felt bad he was no longer playing. But he perked up. "Yeah? I should get up to the city sometime." He paused before admitting, "Before I got injured... I met some guys online. It was fun."

"You're, what, 21? You should be having some fun, Tyler," I said. I didn't even mean it to be lecherous. But this young man deserved to have sex.

"Thanks, Coach, for the pep talk."

I patted his shoulder. Trying to make it a normal pat. "Any time. You know... I know you don't need me to show you around, but if you're ever up the city and want to hang out...."

I half regretted saying that, but you don't hit the shots you don't take. And my cock was definitely running the show.

"Yeah, Coach," Tyler said.

****

We'd wrapped up the PT session as normal. He had my cell number to text, but I was't going to push anything. I'd laid it out there, and Tyler could decide if he wanted to come into the city. He probably thought I was making a platonic offer, kind of a mentor big gay brother thing. I'd do that, too.

A week later I got a text to see if I was up for company on Saturday afternoon. I cleared my plans and moved my Saturday workout earlier.

Tyler looked like a million bucks when I met him for a late lunch. Gone was the oversized T shirt and he had on one of his older shirts that stretched snugly across the beer belly. Tyler Mills still wasn't in chub territory, but I had underestimated how much the guy had packed on his mid-section. Even if Tyler and I didn't fool around, I'd have a great JO with that visual.

Better was how the guy seemed to be more comfortable in his skin. We grabbed tacos in the Mission and hung out in the park. Even from behind his sun glasses Tyler seemed to be eyeing me up. I guess my own snug T-shirt and shorts were showing off my buff build to good effect.

"Can I ask a personal question, Coach?"

"You can call me Steve," I said. "And sure."

His smile grew serious. "Are you a chubby chaser?"

I thought of not telling him the truth, but I'd spent too long not embracing that part of me. I didn't like lying about my kink now. "Yeah, I am, Tyler."

He expected that answer but maybe not the direct confidence with which I answered him. He was letting it sink in. "I wouldn't have thought... a guy like you."

I shrugged. "I was about your age when I realized I could become the man I wanted to have sex with. Or be the man who'd get the guys I wanted to have sex with."

"Do all those chubby guys..." he lowered his voice. "Go for thinner dudes?"

"Not all," I assured him. "And some like more twinky types. But I do pretty well."

"I bet," Tyler said. Then catching himself, added, "Sorry Coach... Steve."

I laughed. "Am I freaking you out, buddy?"

"It's weird," he said. "Especially if you think of me that way." Leave it to this sweet jock to acknowledge the elephant in the room.

I gave him the most reassuring look I could. "You're not a chub," I said. "And it's not about labels... actually lately I've gotten more into regular guys with a little extra around the middle."

That seemed to put him at ease. He leaned back and nodded down to his stomach.

"Like mine?" he asked.

My dick was chubbing up. No stopping it. "You have no idea."

"I guess I had a little," he admitted. "After our last conversation. It got me going online," he chuckled. "I decided to wear something tighter fitting."

I tried not to sound like a creep. "I've very glad you did, Tyler."

That made him smile. "You know, this is the first time I've felt sexy in two years."

"You are sexy," I assured him. "Sexy as fuck."

"Coming from you, Steve, that's amazing." He spread his legs out some and seemed to be showing his gut off for me.

I wanted to kiss him, bad. But my greater head prevailed. "You know, in my position..." I started.

Tyler seemed almost scared of my rejection. "I wouldn't tell anyone, Coach. Promise."

This was going to happen. "Wanna come back to my place?"

He nodded like an excited kid. God, Mills was adorable as fuck.

We were both smiling goofy grins as we made out way to my condo.

"Nice place, Steve," he said as he looked around. "Hopefully I can move to the city after graduation."

"You should," I said. "You'd have a blast."

That made him smile. He stepped up to me, waiting for me to take the rest of the initiative. I did, pulling Tyler into me and claiming a soft kiss. Even if I wasn't the dating type, I was very much the kissing type.

This ex-baller was too. He responded with soft caresses of his tongue against mine, gently sucking me into his mouth before pushing back.

Meanwhile, my fingers were tracing beneath the hem of his shirt. I'd dreamed of touching Tyler Mills' gut for weeks now, and I was now doing it. His belly was firm and fat at the same time. I was rock hard and moaned into his mouth.

For his part Tyler was feeling me up, my arms, my chest, my back. He was just as turned on as I was.

I pulled him back, silently stepping us back toward the bedroom. We wouldn't make it all the way there that way, but Tyler got the idea. Breaking the kiss, he let me lead the way.

I think I gasped when he pulled that shirt off. The chest and arms and shoulders were football solid - Tyler hadn't neglected his weight training - but the belly was round and heaved as he undid his shorts and peeled them down.

My cock was hard and I enjoyed Tyler's gaze on my naked body as I got into bed first. He was actually showing off his belly to me as he got in on the other side.

Our mouths met and we both responded to each other's nakedness with an amped up fervor. I could now feel Tyler's thick dick below, humping into my hip. We made out hungrily, and felt each other up and lived out several weeks of pent-up lust. It was all coming out forcefully.

Particularly as Tyler rolled his big body on top of mine and began kissing along my neck, his hardon humping into me and his hands holding me down gently. I'd experienced this before with guys I hadn't met online. The wrestling for top bunk. Tyler Mills wanted to fuck me.

I was 90 percent top, but I wanted to give Tyler his wish. He needed the confidence boost, I decided, and his bulk felt pretty damn nice on top of me.

I felt his love handles getting more and more excited to take this ex-wide receiver's dick.

"Can you give me fifteen minutes, bud?" I asked. "I can get cleaned out for you."

I wasn't sure of Tyler Mill's experience, but he wasn't totally green. His eyes lit up. "Oh yeah." He rolled off me, letting me get off the bed and to the master bathroom.

I cleaned out and showered off and came out to see the college guy waiting expectantly, his prick not having gone down a bit. Tyler wasn't hung overly long but it was a decently thick tool that looked amazing riding up the swell of his beer belly. Mills might not have been a chub but I had a flash of excitement imagining him getting bigger.

"God Steve, you're amazing." He gave his prick a couple of tugs as I got into bed again.

"You too stud. Fuck."

I could see that confidence boost working on Tyler. Two years of injury and recovery and depression had taken a toll on the guy, but the fact I wanted him, really wanted him, had him brightening up visibly.

We kissed again, hungrily, and Tyler unleashed the inner beast. His kisses were more fevered against my neck and chest and even lower.

I lifted my legs back. Tyler wasn't skilled in rimming but he loved going hog wild. That worked for me. It had been too long since I'd had my ass eaten, and the fact it was this young big-bellied stud doing it had me wanting to put out.

I finally handed him some lube. His grin was big as he flipped the lid and began prepping me with his fingers. Eyes on my body and my face more than my hole.

"You do this much, Coach?" he asked with heavy lust.

I shook my head. "Usually I'm top," I said. "But I want you in me bud."

That made his prick jerk. He was so horny but also wanting to be respectful. He now worked in two and three fingers in me in alternation. My hole was feeling good.

"We, um, need protection or something?" he asked.

"I have some," I answered. I had one married fuckbud who insisted on condoms. "But I'm on PREP and get tested."

"Fuck," he hissed. He pulled back his fingers and slathered the excess lube onto this cock. Before I could react he was scooting up and stuffing it into my hole.

"Easy!" I urged. The entry was quick.

"Sorry," he said. He was clearly carried away. But now he held steady.

I looked up at him, his scruffy handsome face and his strong build and that round gut. And I opened right up for Mr. Mills.

"Fuck!" I hissed as his slick bone slid into me. "Yes..."

"God Coach," he grunted.

We weren't verbal. I don't know if Tyler was naturally the verbal type. But we didn't need sex talk. We were both in thrall with the other's bodies. Tyler's round 20-pounds of gut flesh swelling out between my spread legs, jiggling slightly as his whole body thrust into me. Maybe I should bottom more, I thought, because my insides felt alive at that moment. Not just my p-spot but all of it.

Tyler was cumming before I knew it, his face hardening into a determined top face as he drove in faster to get his nut. It was intense, but in a good way. I jerked my dick and rode the crest of my own orgasm.

We were hyperventilating as we uncoupled.

"Damn," he hissed. Resting his head on my shoulder and snuggling up to me. "Thanks for that."

I kissed his forehead. "Thank you, stud... I needed that more than I realized."

He smiled, and leaned forward for a kiss. I was happy to give him one.

We lay in bed and talked about men and sex and life. I didn't give him my whole life story, but Tyler got some hints about what being a chaser meant for me. He was still dealing with the closet and learning about sex beyond porn.

****

We had a mini affair, until Tyler got freaked out. I think some of it was wanting to play the field. But he still didn't like thinking of himself as fat and didn't like that's the part of him that I responded to.

I said something that triggered him, but it was probably bound to happen anyway. He stopped answering my texts, and if he came into the city, it wasn't to see me.

My fortieth birthday came and went. I wondered what I was doing with my life. Maybe it was time to become the dating type. But I had two fuckbuds on the regular now. A big extra-beefy coach from South Bay and a pot-bellied married guy from the suburbs. Occasionally I got DMs on my old twitter account, and I hooked up with a couple of chubs who came to town. I heard from a superchub who was a big fan of my old videos, but I wasn't sure I wanted that experience again.

I didn't expect a text out of the blue. But one spring day, Tyler texted me. "How you doing, Coach?"

It was the right text at the right time. I perked up at my desk. "Doing well. How about you Tyler?"

"Can't complain." Then "Sorry I went no contact."

"No expectations," I said. "For real."

"Cool." A minute passed then. "Can I see you sometime?"

"I'm out of town the next couple of weeks," I wrote. Spring Break was coming up, and I had a vacation tripped planned. "But I'm around after."

"Nice. I'll reach out."

****

We picked up right where we left off. Sort of. When Tyler showed up at my place, he was bigger. The twenty pound gut had become a thirty pound gut. He had some amazing genetics that concentrated the extra fat into his belly. He wore a polo shirt that showed off the round swell to good effect.

"Hey," he said with a nervous smile as I led him in. He was clean shaven now, and as adorable as ever. The baseball cap topped off the collegiate look, but I playfully took it off him and tossed it aside before leaning in.

Our kiss was soft. I grunted as I felt his hard-soft stomach press against my flat one.

I wasn't sure what to expect but as we made out and pawed at each other, I knew we were going to have sex. First thing.

"Bedroom?" I asked.

Tyler nodded excitedly. "Yeah. One of these days I'd love to do it elsewhere... try every room in your place."

I pawed at my crotch. "You look so hot, Tyler," I grunted.

He grinned and puffed out his chest some. Gone was the kid shy about his weight. At least for now. "I tried to lose weight Coach, but figured, fuck it."

My fingers were now tugging at that polo shirt. Tyler helped me take it off the rest of the way. His chest was meaty as ever and that just made his big gut hotter. I openly ran my hands over all of it, shoulders to stomach and back. Tyler relaxed and let me.

"I've never been fucked, Steve," he said.

My hands paused. "Yeah?" I asked expectantly.

Tyler was nervous as fuck. I got that. "I've been thinking about it. A lot."

My hands more gently massaged him. Not in a chub chaser kind of way, more in a reassuring caress kind of way. "I've broken guys in before," I said softly. "I know what I'm doing." God at that moment I knew I'd kill to get into Tyler Mills' ex-jock hole.

He gave me a playful grin. "I know... I, um, came across some of your vids, Coach," he said. "Actually a lot of them."

I blushed. I don't even know why. But it was a part of my life that was kind of behind me. "Hope you liked them."

He nodded. "I thought of being one of those guys you did." That impish look grew stronger. "Damn, some of those guys are BIG too," he laughed. "You really are into that."

I nodded. But patted his stomach which was still hard-fat but had more give these days. "You're more my speed for now, Mills," I grinned. I don't know why his last name came out, it just felt right.

Our lips were softer touching again. But Tyler's hands fumbled with my jeans and greedily reached in to grip my boner. He had a good touch. I suspect Tyler had fooled around with other men over the last year-plus. I was glad.

"You're big," he finally said as we broke. Tyler was looking down at the cock in his fist.

"Not too big, Tyler," I said.

He thought about it. "I jerked off so much to your vids. Just watching you..."

I patted his arm. All solid. "The real thing will be hotter," I said.

He crouched down in front of me. Tyler wasn't going to suck me to completion. I wasn't going to let him. But from our previous affair, I knew he could. Slowly he sucked down several inches and worked up a nice, slow bob. I enjoyed the foreplay and finally pulled him up.

Then returned the favor. I love sucking a fat guy, feeling the belly press against my forehead as I work my mouth closer to the base of the dick. Tyler now had enough to let me know I had some real girth on my hands.

I finally spit out his cock. "Turn around," I urged.

Tyler had a football player's ass. Round, hard but not a bubble but. Tyler was just now starting to get the fullness a fat dude has, particularly along the upper part of the glutes where they meet the love handles circling around the lower back.

It drove me wild. I parted those muscle buns and dove in. Licking up and down that lightly furry trench.

"Yes," Tyler hissed. He clearly loved having his ass eaten. He liked it even more when I really went at it, drilling in with my tongue. Tyler was clean as a whistle, and I knew he'd prepped for me.

He now leaned over which made those love handles squish some. I growled into that hole and ate him out more eagerly.

I finally pulled out. I slid my finger along the spit wet trench but not penetrating him. "I'll take it easy, stud. But I gotta get inside you."

He nodded. His nerves coming back. But he accepted my kiss when I stood up and let me guide him back to my room.

"I'm at 240 now," he boasted as he got into my bed.

Between the videos and that admission, I realized Tyler had absorbed at least some of the chub/chaser kink, at least enough to use it to turn me on.

"Incredible," I said. I grabbed some lube and fisted my cock, in full view of Tyler's hungry gaze. "I hope you're feeling good about your body."

"Yes and no," he answered truthfully. "But I'm really glad you like it."

"You have no idea, buddy," I said.

"I have some idea," he replied, glancing at my cock.

We kissed and embraced. I felt him up but no more than he gripped my toned bulked muscle. I applied more lube to my fingers worked them in between his buns. Probing and teasing until it felt right to enter him.

He hissed but I could tell he enjoyed it. Our faces were close and our bodies touched as he angled his beefed-out body so I could get access. I took advantage. One finger, then another. Slowly working him open. Eyes locked on his the whole time.

"Feel good?" I asked.

"Yes, Coach."

A third finger pushed in. It was a lot for Tyler, but after a minute I could tell that was feeling good too.

"Can I ride you?" he asked.

"It's actually tougher for the first time that way," I explained. "Let me take the cherry and then we can do whatever position you want. OK?"

He seemed to trust me. So I guided him on his back, that round stomach perfectly resting. I slid a pillow beneath his hips and rested his legs on my shoulder. He was nervous now, but I fingered him some more. Like five minutes more, before I lined up and pressed in.

He gritted his teeth and winced but the feeling didn't hurt like he expected. I took my time then finally pressed past the tightness of those first three inches.

Tyler's eyes opened. THIS felt good to him. I slowly pumped, my movements gentle even as my eyes fixed his with a controlling gaze. Silently urging the ex-jock to take my dick.

He relaxed into the fuck, a look of gratitude on his face. I was showing Tyler a new way to be a man.

I pumped out some lube on to his palm and when he stroked in rhythm to my stokes, the lightbulb really went off.

"I can feel it," he said. "My prostate."

I fucked harder now, and the guy nodded up with excitement, his hand going faster on his thick dick. His belly jiggled now which was going to get me off, soon.

"You like my body," he said. Or maybe asked.

"I love it. Love fucking that thick ex-jock body, Tyler."

"I thought you might prefer me bigger," he hissed, softly. Embarrassed at the admission.

I didn't care. He was getting me out of control. I pounded him, making all that excess flesh move and jiggle wildly. His face turned red then his whole body and I watched streams of cum jet out in thick ropes onto that beer belly.

I nutted. Matching Tyler's cumload size, deep inside his once-virgin ass.

Later, as we showered and made out, I told him that just was about the hottest sex I'd ever hard. I wasn't exaggerating.

He leaned into my hands as I worked the suds over his girthy flesh, trying not to fixated on his midsection.

"I know you're not the dating type, Coach, but can we go on a date some time?" he asked.

I gave him a kiss. Not quick, not slow. "It's the least you deserve, Mills," I replied. My cock chubbing up a little again.

[fluentmoviequoter]

A Home to Thrive In

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!neighbor!reader

Summary: You still live next door to Tim Bradford's mother, and when he visits for the first time in years, you have to decide if you're willing to let go of the idea of him you fell in love with.

Warnings: spoilers/rewrite for 4x09 "Breakdown", angst, arguments, discussion of past abuse, r is Tim's childhood friend, fluff and comfort

Word Count: 3.5k+ words

A/N: It's late. This may be terrible. I will reassess tomorrow.

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info

“Have you talked to Mom recently?” Genny asks. When Tim doesn’t answer, she sighs and murmurs, “Don’t know why I thought you would.”

“Isn’t it bad enough that you’re dragging me back into the Tom Bradford-centric world I’ve been trying to outrun since we were kids? Now you want me to tell Mom about everything that’s happened,” Tim argues. “I’m already working on a murder case that Dad hid for decades. I don’t need more family drama right now, Genny."

“She worries about you, Tim. Just wants to be part of your life again.”

Tim's phone rings, a saving grace, and he excuses himself as he pushes his chair away from the table and leaves his sister.

“Tim,” Lucy greets. “I brought Monica Ochoa back in.”

“The woman who was killed by the gun I found in my dad’s house. Why?”

“Because I knew there was more to her story. You- you couldn’t see past the version that you wanted to see.”

“What’d she say?”

“Your dad… Tim, Monica confessed.”

Tim hangs up on Lucy, walks directly past his sister while ignoring her questions, and gets in his truck to visit his dad. To see if he’ll tell the truth when he has no other choice or if he’s really the terrible man Tim thinks he is.

“You didn’t kill Frank,” Tim states.

Tom sighs before he counters, “Sure I did. Now, come on. Cuff me. Let’s just get this over with.”

“Monica confessed.”

“Leave her out of this.”

“Frank was beating her. She fought back. She shot him. She was terrified, so she ran to you. You came up with the burglary story, helped her stage the house, then you hid the gun in case the cops got too close, and you needed to frame someone else.”

“He was brutal, abusive,” Tom explains. “She deserves a medal for what she did.”

“He was abusive?” Tim repeats.

“What? You think I’m like him? I was nothing like Frank. I taught you what you needed to know, son. You’re a man now because of me.”

“No. I’m who I am in spite of you,” Tim replies. His dad doesn’t speak, and Tim nods as he adds, “Goodbye, Dad. I hope it hurts.”

In the hallway outside his dad’s room, Tim pulls his phone from his pocket and calls Grey.

“Bradford,” Wade greets as the call connects.

“I need to take some personal time,” Tim says instead of a salutation.

“Lord knows you’ve stashed up enough of it. Where are you going?”

“To see someone I should’ve visited a long time ago.”

“You did the right thing, Tim. Take your time and know we’re here for you when you get back.”

Tim ends the call, then texts his sister that he’s taking her advice. He hasn’t been home to his mom’s house in years, and he needs her, needs space from his family and his station, and needs to work through the events of the week on his own. Though he isn’t sure if he’s welcome or if his mother's new home will feel the same as it did fifteen years ago, Tim gets in his truck and drives toward the last place he felt at home.

Your evening walk is refreshing, and the sunset helps you focus on the beauty of the day as you wind down.

“Sweetheart!” your neighbor calls, waving from her porch.

“Mrs. Bradford,” you greet with a smile as you step onto her walkway. “How are you today?”

“Good, good. Talked to Genny earlier, she’s visiting Tim.”

You smile and nod, unwilling to touch the sensitive subject of Tim. Growing up with him, you saw the worst parts of his childhood, home life, and father, but that never added up to you. He ran away from his mother, from love and home just to outrun bad memories. A task you know to be impossible.

“How was your book?” you ask, moving away from Mrs. Bradford’s stressful family life. “Did you finish it last night?”

“I did. You were right, the twist at the end was a shock. I thought the vigilante did it!”

“Interesting,” you muse. “I was torn between him and the builder.”

Mrs. Bradford hums before her oven beeps.

“You take care of that,” you say as you wrap your arms over her shoulders in a quick hug. “We’ll talk about the book and start the sequel on Saturday?”

“Count on it. Have a good night!”

“You too!”

Headlights reflect off your front door as you push it open, but you don’t bother to turn around and see who it is. Two of your neighbors get home around this time, and there aren’t many visitors or tourists in your area. So, when you’re closing the curtains and notice an unfamiliar truck in Mrs. Bradford’s driveway, you decide to watch and ensure everything is okay.

“Tim!” Mrs. Bradford calls excitedly as the driver’s door opens. She rushes out and pulls him into a hug, and from the way he grips her and buries his face against her shoulder like he’s eight again, you know that this isn’t just a sorry I stopped calling, Mom visit. Something happened and that’s the only reason he’s home.

“Welcome home, Tim,” you whisper before you pull the curtains together and put the distance you’re used to back between you and Tim.

You kneel by your front door to tie your shoes. Then you untie them and loop the laces differently. Knowing that Tim Bradford is next door makes you hesitate to go outside. Yet, you don’t want to let him impact your life more than he already has. It wouldn’t be surprising to learn that his mother already told him about your downward spiral, how you fell apart when he left without so much as a word. As a kid, you fell in love with Tim Bradford, and you stayed in love with the idea of him in high school. Then, when he disappeared without a word or trace, and you only found out that he was a cop for the LAPD through his sister, you decided that the idea of him was as good as you would ever get.

“You can do this,” you tell yourself as you stand and lay your hand on the doorknob. “It’s just the man who has occupied your every thought for years. Just walk by.”

The magnitude of your mistake hits you in full force when you’re nearly past Mrs. Bradford’s fence. Tim says your name and your heart clenches at the realization that you remembered his voice so well. Years of hearing it in your dreams will preserve your memory like that.

“Tim,” you reply, swallowing as you face him. “I didn’t know you were coming home.”

“It wasn’t exactly the plan. Genny showed up and everything just kind of blew up in my face.”

Kind of like what you put me through, you think. Rather than saying it, you nod sympathetically.

“Did my mom… did she tell you about my dad?”

“Tim, your mom tells me a lot. But no one close to your mom has brought him up in years.”

“Wish my sister had gotten that message,” Tim scoffs.

“I hope you enjoy the time with your mom,” you interrupt. “But I’ve got to get going.”

“Right,” Tim agrees. “I’ll see you around.”

You nod but feel your chest tighten as you hope he’s wrong. Losing Tim Bradford again is not an option, so you refuse to let him closer than he needs to be.

“I didn’t know she moved with you, still lived next door,” Tim muses as his mother ushers him inside for breakfast.

“You don’t know much,” she points out, not unkindly but not untrue. “She knows more than you. I’ve told her everything Genny passed along. You were so close as kids.”

“Yeah,” Tim agrees before he trails off. He remembers being friends, but not the kind of friends that would ask about each other. “I don’t think she wants to talk to me.”

“Well, you can hardly blame her.”

“What does that mean?”

Tim’s mother looks at him and presses her lips together. He has her eyes, but he doesn’t have her understanding or the intuition about people she tried to instill in him when his father wasn’t trying to teach him to be a man.

“If you can’t see it, Tim, it’s too late to explain it. She’s coming over for lunch and our duet book club tomorrow. You have thirty hours to read the book if you want to participate.”

“Thank you for letting me come home, Mom.”

She lays her hand on Tim’s shoulder and promises, “You’re always welcome here, Timothy.”

You knock on Mrs. Bradford’s door while Tim’s truck is gone. With one of her signature ceramic loaf pans in your hands, filled with your favorite cookies, you wait for the door to open to return her dish and offer some goodies.

“Sorry to…” you begin as the door opens. “Oh, Tim. Sorry, your truck was gone so I assumed your mom would be here.”

“She borrowed my truck to do something that she refused to have help for. Come on in.”

Tim opens the door for you, and for reasons beyond your comprehension, you accept his invitation and walk inside. After you set the pan on the counter, you turn around to leave, but Tim is leaning against the table and watching you.

“Enjoying your time off?” you question, wringing your fingers together behind your back.

“I am. Especially after the last case I worked on,” Tim answers. “My mom hasn’t told me much about you.”

You hum and look at your feet as you reply, “Not much to tell.”

“She seems to tell you a lot.”

“Look, Tim, I’m just trying to respect your boundaries. She told me that your dad was involved in something, a murder, but it’s not my business.”

“Frank Ochoa,” Tim interjects.

You furrow your brows as you ask, “Monica’s husband? But that was a robbery.”

Tim tilts his head to the side as he says, “My dad admitted to killing him. He was protecting Monica.”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and nod.

“But you knew that, didn’t you?”

“What?”

Tim stands from the table, his crossed arms falling to his sides. “You knew something and didn’t tell anybody, didn’t you?”

“Tim, I-“

“Look, I’ve been lied to by too many people this week. You still have the same tell you did in elementary school. What did you know?”

You clench your jaw and step to the right to go around Tim, but he moves to block you, and rather than running into his chest, you retreat further into Mrs. Bradford’s kitchen.

“This case – the people there – have been lied to, we’ve been wrong, there’s been no justice for decades. And you’ve known something the whole time? How can you live with that?”

“How can I live with it?” you repeat incredulously. “How was I – a child, Tim – supposed to go to the police and tell them that I saw Frank beating Monica over and over? They wouldn’t have believed me!”

“You didn’t try!”

“Yes, I did!” you yell. Wiping the single tear that managed to escape in your memories of the only time you tried to help your neighbors, you lose some of your fight.

“Doesn’t seem like you tried very hard,” Tim adds under his breath.

You laugh once and shake your head. “I told the police your dad was beating you, Tim. You know what happened? They came and asked him about it. He denied everything. After they left, he took you out into the backyard and demanded to know who you told. So, see if you can wrap your cop brain about why I was scared to tell on someone else.”

“I didn’t know you-“

“You didn’t know anything, Tim.”

Tim scoffs and argues, “Oh and you know so much about who I am now because of what my sister tells my mom?”

“At least I talk to your mom, Tim,” you snap. Immediately, you regret it. “I’m sorry,” you offer.

“I couldn’t,” Tim defends.

“Did you try?”

Tim’s truck rumbles as his mother returns from the store, and you hold Tim’s stare until the engine shuts off.

“Can I leave now, or do you want to blame me for something else?”

Tim steps back and opens his mouth, but you storm past him before he can say anything else. You return to your house after you hug Mrs. Bradford and tell her about the cookies. The idea of Tim Bradford that you’ve clung to since childhood is growing fuzzy around the edges, and alone in your house, you cry over what he told you today, the mistakes you made, and the loss of the Tim you were born to love.

Someone knocks on your door the following morning, and you stare at it rather than walking toward it.

“Sweetheart, it’s me,” Mrs. Bradford calls.

With a sigh, you stand and invite her in, not caring if she notices your teary eyes or unusual attitude.

“I thought you might want someone to talk to. Somewhere away from my son,” she explains as she leads you to your dining table. “So, I brought food and company. Choose what you want.”

“It’s not just Tim,” you explain. “I mean… he was right, but it’s different.”

“Different than when you fell in love with him?” she guesses.

You look up at her, wide-eyed at her question. She smiles and gestures for you to continue.

“I’ve been dreaming about him coming back, thinking that we could pick up where we left off, but he’s nothing like what I remember.”

“Time will do that,” she soothes, taking your hand over the table.

“It didn’t do it to me.”

“Sweetheart… you didn’t let it. I love you, you know that, but you cling so tightly to the past, to the familiar, that you haven’t allowed yourself to adapt to the beauty of the growth and changes around you. Haven’t even let yourself show the woman you’ve become.”

You lick your lips before sniffling and asking, “What if I don’t like it?”

“But what if you thrive in it?”

Wiping the back of your free hand across your face, you clear your tears and nod. You know that Mrs. Bradford is right, but you also know that there will be pain in the beauty when you choose to move forward.

“Does he hate me?” you whisper.

“Timothy? I don’t think he could ever hate you.”

“He can sure blame me for a lot, though,” you point out with a wet laugh.

“Beating himself up over that at the moment, if you’re wondering. And, when you’re ready to talk to him, maybe you should try getting to know who he is today.”

You nod and pull a homemade candy from her special-made meal. “Thank you.”

“Anytime. Now, are we going to keep crying over silly boys or try to solve a murder mystery on a pioneer plantation?”

Dressed in your favorite outfit, you shift from foot to foot on Mrs. Bradford’s porch as you try to get your courage up. Just as you lift your hand to knock, a throat clears behind you. You spin around quickly, then release a breath and press your hand over your racing heart.

“You could have told me you were back there sooner,” you point out softly.

“I wanted to see where this was going,” Tim answers, closing his tailgate. “Listen, about the other day-“

You raise your hand to silence Tim and shake your hand. “I came over here to talk to you. About more than that. Do you maybe want to go somewhere to do that?”

Tim nods and opens the passenger door of his truck, offering his hand as he helps you in without a word. The drive to the local high school football field is quick but silent, and when you exit the truck and join Tim on the tailgate to watch the sunset, you take a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all of that with your dad, the house, Frank, all that,” you begin. “But I’m sorrier that I didn’t do more back then.”

Tim nods and says, “You were right. They wouldn’t have listened, or it would’ve spooked my dad and made everything worse.”

“I guess we’ll never know.” You look at Tim’s profile and ask, “Are you okay?”

“No,” he admits without hesitation. “My dad was protecting Monica. He never did anything to protect us, but his mistress – broke half a dozen laws for her.”

“I knew that, too,” you whisper. “My mom made me stop sitting by the door after that year, which was probably a good thing. Uhm, are they going to prosecute your dad?”

“No. Not on his death bad. But it doesn’t matter. He’ll get judged soon enough.”

You nod, your eyes still on Tim rather than the pink sunset before you. His eyes have teared up, and everything inside of you begs for you to just let go.

“Tim, you’re nothing like him. You know that, right?”

Tim nods a tiny movement that breaks your heart. This isn’t the Tim you remember, not the Tim from elementary school or the one who was punished for your ill-conceived attempt to help. Most importantly, you realize, this isn’t the Tim you’ve dreamed of loving. Tim Bradford, the man before you, is who you can love, want to love, and desperately, wholly, devastatingly need to love.

With a deep breath, you release everything you’ve been holding onto. Your grip on your dreams, on your memory of Tim and what you thought you wanted, and the moment that trapped you in your position of being terrified to do the wrong thing in your efforts to do good weakens, and you feel like a flower in bloom. Everything seems new, the possibilities are endless, and you’re a new person who isn’t afraid to do right, even when it terrifies you and carries the potential to break your heart.

“Tim,” you whisper.

He turns toward you, drawn by the tone in your voice, and blinks past his tears. You shift on his tailgate and raise your arms toward his shoulders. Tim leans forward and meets you halfway, pulling you into his lap as you collapse into a hug that heals the broken edges of who you are. With Tim’s arms against your back and waist, you feel more at home than ever, and he feels the same. His mother’s house was never the home he was returning to, but a pursuit for this feeling, right in your arms.

“I’m so sorry,” you murmur against his shoulder.

He shakes his head, tightening his grip on you, and this version of you - unafraid, complete in Tim Bradford’s arms - is ready to thrive. You won’t heal overnight; neither of you will, but it’s a start.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and Tim laughs against your neck before he pulls back gently to retrieve his phone from his pocket.

“My mom,” he tells you. “If you haven’t kissed her yet, what are you waiting for? Another set of wrinkles?”

You fail to stop the laugh that escapes at Mrs. Bradford’s bluntness. Then, you realize how glad you are that he’s reading her text messages.

“Well?” you ask. “Should we kiss or wait for more wrinkles?”

Tim pushes a stray hair out of your face and promises, “None of it was your fault.”

You nod and thank him, then brush your thumbs against his cheeks. “Last time we were on a field together, it was raining. I also wanted you to kiss me then.”

“You never told me.”

“How was I supposed to tell you that, Tim?” you ask. “I… I was caught up in an idea of who we could be, and I was scared to ruin it by doing something new.”

“And now?”

Rather than asking for what you want, you take it as you lean forward and kiss Tim. One of his hands moves to the back of your neck, and the first raindrop feels suspiciously like a teardrop as it runs down your face and onto Tim’s. You laugh as you run toward the truck doors, thunder rumbling as a storm approaches from the west. In the truck with Tim, you find yourself face-to-face with a better version of the dream life you craved in Tim’s absence.

Bonus:

“Get inside, it’s going to start raining again!” Mrs. Bradford calls from the kitchen when she hears the door open. “Don’t need you catching a cold on your time off, Timothy.”

You press your lips together and smile at Tim, who is drenched after offering you his jacket to hold over your head in a poor attempt to stay somewhat dry.

“She’s going to mother you, too,” he points out.

“Hey, I’m used to it,” you reply. “Like it, even.”

“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Bradford murmurs as she appears in the doorway. “Go get dried off and change, Tim.”

After he disappears into his room, Mrs. Bradford offers you a towel and a change of clothes. She smiles as she leans in and says, “Flowers that thrive need plenty of rain to grow, you know.”

[sumikatt]

a generative AI workflow for art that can't reasonably be detected as "AI use"

before we start:

I am an artist with original art in my art tag dating back to 2017

I think intellectual property is a farce and i hate copyright

I don't think image scraping and using it as training data is stealing, the same way I don't think piracy is stealing

I have used my own laptop hardware for these image generations, not any online service

Images are not described, apologies

Step 1: Concept (txt2img)

Let's do a basic edgy fallen angel character as our example. The prompt was something like "fullbody edgy fallen angel, short hair wearing leather vest, chain accessory, broken halo, wings"

Model used: Counterfeit v3.0

Model used: Flat 2D Animerge v4.5

Step 2: Pick and choose parts, then trace

Since I've traced over a completely new image, it is impossible to detect that I've used generative AI at all. It can't be reverse-searched. For all intents and purposes, this is "original artwork by a human".

You can stop here, but I wanted to toss it back in to see what I'd get.

Step 3: img2img generation

I've added a dark background and an outline to the boots for clearer separation of character and background. This generation was done with a high CFG (guidance scale).

For reference, here's high CFG to lower CFG from left to right.

Step 4: Upscale and paintover

Obviously, these aren't flawless images. So we'll paint over some parts manually until it becomes "human art"

I only did the face for brevity's sake. I've fixed lighting, flattened out the noise, fixed her vest, and overall tried to make it more consistent. Direct paintover is a harder to execute, but it is completely possible to cover all "tells".

It's not my best work as I'm not that experienced with anime style illustration, but it will pass a general AI sniff check (using sightengine).

for comparison, here's some of my other original paintings.

Closing thoughts

You'll never really be able to actually 100% identify any art as AI generated or assisted, unless you're literally watching an artist over their shoulder. Models are only getting better at generation. Generative AI is just a Pinterest replacement in terms of art tools, really. Harassing artists and fearmongering about the use of AI is stupid and reactionary. You can still enjoy art even if it's generated.

The end

[wihellib]

I wanted to talk a bit about the Comiket Popularity Vote. The full list can be found here.

Levi was voted as #1 with almost 1500 votes above the 2nd place Beel. He wouldn’t have been my pick, but this result doesn’t really surprise me. His character archetype is very popular in Japan.

Satan being third is interesting simply because he is usually so dominant whenever the polls are conducted here on tumblr. But it just goes to show you that different fandom spaces can have very different opinions on characters.

I am surprised that Belphie is behind Michael, seeing as he is a King and I really thought all the Kings would have top ranks, but Michael managed to sneak himself in there. Well, he is very pretty. Good for him.

Then, Zagan was 8th and had the top spot of all the lower ranks. This came of nowhere for me. I am very neutral on Zagan. I can see his appeal but not so much that it’s above literally every other lower rank as well as L characters like Gabriel and Raphael. I am very curious about what makes him so attractive to the fans at Comiket.

The results seem to mostly follow the pattern of: more screen time = a higher spot. Not totally though, there are some outliers. Astaroth being so high up is odd, since we haven’t seen him in the main story and only minimally in events.

Belial and Stolas’ positions are also odd for the inverse reason. We’ve seen them quite a lot, Belial is even in the main story and has an H scene, but they are in the bottom 3. I am curious about the reason for their dislike.

Now, the fact that you could vote multiple times for the same guy skewed the results a bunch I’m sure. I would have liked to see the breakdown of single votes only and how that would have changed the placements.

I really hope they’ll do more more polls like this, but open it up to everyone who plays the game. Other gacha games have an announcement in game that they’re having a survey, and you can click a link that takes you to a website where you can give your opinions to specific questions. There’s no reason WHB can’t do this.

Everyone who is a fan of the game should get a voice in which lower rank demon will get an L card, not just a specific group of people.

The most fair (and comprehensive) way to do this would be a ranked choice poll. You choose your top three S and/or A+ rank demons, where 1st gets 3 points, 2nd gets 2 Points, and 3rd gets 1 point. Adding up all the points, whoever has the most will be people’s overall most wanted.

[sansaorgana]

— FADING LIGHT

PAIRING — Adar x fem!Elf!Reader

SUMMARY — When your daughter's mysterious sickness progresses, you are desperate to find a cure. You choose to travel all the way to Mirkwood but you are captured by the Orcs on the road and soon you find out that their leader is your husband who you thought of as dead.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I fell for Adar while watching Season One already but in the last episode when he mentioned that Sauron promised him children... I just knew I had to write some fic about him having a family once that he lost. 🤧 Also, I am like 100 percent sure that Adar was not his name when he was an Elf but I didn't want to make it up on my own so I kept it the same. 😅 The daughter's name – Moreth – apparently means gloom. The ending is bittersweet and angsty... but with an open ending! 🥺 PS – I've read The Lord of The Rings and The Hobbit books but it was long time ago and I have never even tried to read The Silmarillion but I tried to do some research on the wiki and I hope the fic is pretty accurate.

WORD COUNT — 6,420

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

FADING LIGHT

You watched Moreth through the window. She was sitting on a bench under the tree and reading a heavy book in a dark brown leather cover. Her black hair danced in the wind but she looked far from ethereal like other elven girls spending time around. There was some sort of darkness around your daughter which worried you deeply. The sadness and the quietness you had grown to – despite all the years that had passed, she had never smiled as brightly and happily as before her father’s mysterious disappearance and most likely death. She had never been cheerful, which was painful enough to you since you were her mother and you wanted nothing but happiness for her. But lately, something very worrying had been happening to her. As if the light that Elves were supposed to carry and shine bright with all through Middle-earth was fading away from her.

“Her skin…” You bit on your lower lip as you looked at Gil-galad who was standing by you. “She’s growing paler but in an unnatural way. Her skin doesn’t simply get lighter but… whiter,” you pointed out. “I don’t know what to do, I am desperate,” you admitted sadly.

“Her light is fading, (Y/N),” Gil-galad whispered and put his hand on your arm as if it brought you any comfort. A single tear escaped your eye and streamed down your cheek when you took one more look at your daughter even though he only said what you had known already.

“Is she dying?” You asked, not fully understanding the situation but it felt awfully wrong that all these things were happening to you. First, you lost a husband and now you were about to lose a daughter? What was the point of this suffering? “Is she somehow turning into a human?”

“No, not a human,” Gil-galad shook his head and walked away. “Worse,” he commented and you furrowed your brows but you had no idea what he meant. You did not want to know. “I suggest sending her to Valinor before it becomes too late,” he added.

“No!” You sniffled your tears back as you protested. “Please, no! I would not handle another loss… Ever since Adar’s death, I am her only family. I am her only protector. And I know it is not the time yet for her or me to leave Middle-earth,” you explained. “I cannot explain it but I know that our destiny here has not been fulfilled yet. I must do everything it takes to save Moreth,” you clenched your jaw with determination.

“I do not know how to help her and all my wise and experienced friends I have asked for help do not know either. The longer you wait, the more she fades away and after a certain point of this mysterious change, she will not be accepted in Valinor,” Gil-galad explained. “It is an honour to be sent there.”

“And a pain for me. I shall miss her. I already miss her father,” you walked away from him to look out of a different window and take a deep breath at the sight of the sea. “I shall go to Oropher in Mirkwood then,” you decided. “Perhaps they know how to help her there. It is my last resort,” you looked at Gil-galad.

“It is dangerous to travel so far away these days. The army of Orcs…” He started but you interrupted him.

“I do not care,” you snapped. “I am her mother. I shall do everything to help her. I am desperate,” you looked deep into his eyes with so much pain and hopelessness that he eventually gave up with a sigh.

“I really hope then that you will find all the answers that you seek there. And that both of you will come back safe and unharmed,” he approached you to squeeze your arm. 

“Thank you, High King,” you bowed your head at him.

Adar was an Elf much older than you but you spotted him watching you many times while you were with your friends in Mithlond. He was calm and quiet, smiling at you kindly but never bothering you. Respectfully, he waited for you to initiate the conversation first, which you did because he fascinated you. You admired his knowledge and how different he was from your friends – how mature. He was giving you flowers he had picked himself whenever you walked together and he always complimented you in a way that would make you blush.

When Elves loved each other and married, forever was always a promise. And for some it truly was like that but you were not one of the lucky ones. It was not long after the birth of your daughter when you lost your husband. Moreth was only a few years old when he disappeared and you began your desperate attempts to find him but you soon were informed by multiple sources that most likely your husband had been killed by Morgoth or one of his minions. There was nothing you could do – not even give him a funeral he deserved since there was no body. You grieved for long years and tried to raise your daughter as well as you could but apparently the burden of this grief and sadness had been affecting her more than you would like to admit it.

You still dreamt of him often – your husband. Of his kisses, of his promises of the life you would live one day. Far away from others; that had been his dream. And he had been often talking about achieving something more whatever that more had meant. An ambitious dreamer – that was how you remembered him. And despite the years that had gone already, not a day passed without you thinking of him dearly.

The thing he loved the most in life was being a father, though. Moreth was his whole world. He would sit her on his lap, tell her stories while braiding or simply brushing her hair. He would pick flowers for her or watch her play in the fields for hours, helping her to catch butterflies. You had never seen a man so mesmerised by his daughter and now this very daughter was sick and you had to do everything to help her. You owed him that.

You were nearby Khazad-dûm on the back of your horse with Moreth sitting behind you with her arms wrapped around your waist when you felt the horse getting nervous and anxious. You knew it was not a good sign but you did not want to turn around and seek refuge with the dwarves or in Eregion. 

“Keep going,” you whispered to the horse as you patted its neck but you were cautiously looking around, sensing the danger as well. “It reeks of something filthy,” you admitted.

“I do not feel anything,” Moreth shrugged her arms, which calmed you down a little but it also caused you to lower your guard down, which was a mistake. On the other hand, you would not be able to do anything anyway even if you had spotted them earlier – a small unit of Orcs jumping out on the road in front of you as they laughed.

The horse startled and shook you and Moreth out of its back before running away as fast as possible. You quickly grabbed your dagger even though you knew it was hopeless to fight a unit on your own with nothing but a small knife. They laughed contemptuously, showing off their awful teeth.

Squeezing the dagger in your hand, you hovered over your daughter, trying to shield her from the Orcs. She was shivering slightly and clutched to the fabric of your cloak.

“L-leave us alone, we mean no harm, just passing through,” you tried to reason with them even though you knew they were not creatures of high intelligence. If they were creatures of any intelligence at all.

“Have you heard her?” One of the Orcs mocked you. “The Elven ladies are just passing through…” He pointed his own dagger at you as you trembled at the sight of the blade, which was dirty from dried up blood.

“P-please… My daughter is sick,” you pleaded but he only tilted his head and brushed your reckless hair strand with the tip of his blade.

“Leave it,” one of his friends barked at him. “They’re Elves. Lord Father won’t be happy if we hurt them. He wants all captured Elves to be taken to him immediately.”

“Oh… Yes… Lord Father will have lots of fun with them,” the Orc standing in front of you grinned at you, which caused a shiver go down your spine. His words sounded ominous – you were terrified of an idea of some sort of leader of the Orcs who was respected and called Lord Father by them. You didn’t even want to think about what he looked like and what he would do to you or your daughter… And now you were a hostage, taken to him.

Perhaps Gil-galad had been right but now it was too late to admit such things. Full of fear and anxiety, you dropped the dagger you were holding, counting on a merciful treatment after giving your weapon up willingly.

You were inside a wooden cage with your daughter by your side. Your hands were in shackles behind your backs but Moreth was sitting as close to you as possible, weeping silently and clinging to you. You knew that she was blaming herself because if it wasn’t for her sickness, you would never be travelling on that road. You didn’t blame her, though. She had never asked for any of this. You leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead, praying for the infamous Lord Father of the Orcs to be a creature of a higher intelligence than his children. That you could reason with him and maybe offer him something in return to let you and your daughter go to Mirkwood freely although you had no idea what to offer. Perhaps a conversation with him would reveal more of his nature, which would help you to come up with a good idea. You were desperate to heal your daughter or at least to try to do so. You would never send her to Valinor too early without knowing that you had done absolutely everything to prevent it.

“It stinks,” you winced after your cage entered the Orcs’ camp.

“I do not feel it, mother,” Moreth admitted and you looked down at her face with nothing but shock. How could she not smell that odour of the Orcs and all their filth?  

You were not given enough time to think about it, though. You heard the awful noises of the Orcs’ tongue and laughter. Through the wooden bars of your cage you spotted them staring at you and pointing their fingers with hatred and disgust as if it was them who had reasons to find you and your daughter hideous.

“We are being taken to their leader,” you whispered to Moreth. “Let me handle it, darling. Do not talk, do not do anything, please.”

“I promise, mother,” she nodded and sniffled back her tears. She was terrified and so were you but you were trying not to show it too much because there was no point of scaring her more and to appear weak in front of the Orcs’ leader.

“Lord Father,” you heard a raspy voice of one of the Orcs once the cage stopped in the middle of something that used to be a market square of one of the human villages before the Orcs’ invasion. “We have captured two Elven women near Khazad-dûm. “They thought we would let them go freely. Claimed to be just passing through and that one of them was sick.”

You waited for the answer but there was none. You could see the mysterious figure only through the bars of the cage and you were not able to spot any details about him. He had to nod his head at the Orcs, though, because the cage was opened shortly after. You and Moreth were dragged out and pushed, making you both hit the ground with your hands still in shackles behind your backs. Clumsily, trying to keep your dignity, you held your head straight while moving your body up to rest on your knees at least, feeling the mud and dirt sticking to your scratched cheek. Your hair was a mess and your eyes filled with hatred as the Orcs surrounding you laughed with contempt.

You laid your eyes on your daughter and how she moved up on her knees as well. Her long black hair – just like her father’s – was full of mud and her skin looked even more unhealthy under the dark and stormy skies. In fact, your heart clenched in your chest because in this light you could truly see how sick she truly was and how little time she had before her light fades away completely and she becomes… Becomes something you did not even want to think of. The reason behind this sickness was beyond your comprehension, though.

You squinted your eyes at the man walking up towards you. To your surprise, his figure was nothing like the Orcs around you. He was either human or… an Elf? You swore, you could see pointed ears and it confused you greatly. With one more step he walked out of the shadow and you finally could see him perfectly well, which caused a gasp to leave your mouth and your heart skipped a beat. Moreth yelped at the sight but you were too stunned to comfort her in any way.

The man walking towards you was your husband.

It was not the same Adar you remembered – he looked damaged and tortured. His skin was sickly white…, which dangerously reminded you of your daughter’s worrying condition. His skin was full of scars and there was a sinister darkness about him that turned your blood cold inside your veins.

He froze at the sight of you as well as the Orcs went silent, realising that something was not right about this encounter. Adar furrowed his brows and opened his mouth slightly as if he had just seen a ghost.

“Impossible…” He breathed out but you heard him very well. His voice made shivers go down your spine. It was changed, too but it was still his. The sound of it brought back all the memories of your marriage and the courting. Of all the walks you had been taking together, all the stories he had been telling you and all the flowers he had been putting inside your hair. All the giggles he had shared with your daughter and all the kisses he had stolen from you under the moonlight.

Adar crouched down in front of you and Moreth to be on the same level but he kept his safe distance. He tilted his head and continued to look confused.

“You died,” he said and it was a statement, not a question. “I saw it,” he added. “Sauron,” he explained, “he showed me your death. A bunch of humans attacking your carriage and leaving your dead bodies by the road to bleed out,” he whispered as his voice and eyes filled with pain. “The vision has been coming back to me in nightmares ever since.”

You had many questions.

Question number one – how did your husband know Sauron personally?

But that was not time to ask that. It was time to explain something that had to be an awful misunderstanding.

“It is true, we were attacked some time after your dea– …disappearance,” you fixed yourself, trying to look for the best words. You still could not believe that your husband was alive after all but you were not sure if alive was the right word to use because the creature in front of you did not look like the Elf you had married. “We were robbed by poor human villagers. They took my jewellery and let us go. I did not even remember about it until now, it holds no significance to me,” you admitted.

Long silence occurred. No Orc was brave enough to say anything, seeing that their leader was engaged in a conversation of this sort and he seemed to be as confused as they were.

“Free them,” Adar ordered and stood up, waiting for the Orc standing nearby to get rid of your shackles. Once your wrists were free, he moved to free Moreth and Adar approached you to offer you his hand to help you stand up.

You did not take his hand, though, as you stood up on your own with your jaw clenched and your eyes filled with anger and hatred when you looked him up and down.

“My children mentioned that one of you was sick,” Adar pointed out and took a better look at his daughter. He had not seen her grown up yet. “That must be you,” he walked up to Moreth and raised his hand to caress her cheek.

“Do not touch her!” You snapped but he did not listen and your daughter did not seem to mind either.

“Father…” Her eyes filled with tears and she sobbed. Adar gathered her tears with his fingertips and pressed his forehead to hers.

A sudden thought made you realise that perhaps the answers you were seeking were not in Mirkwood but here – with him.

“Do you know what sickness is tormenting her?” You approached them, interrupting the bittersweet reunion moment. “Moreth’s light is fading. I am desperate to save her.”

Adar turned around to look at you and your daughter kept staring at you as well. And when they stood like that – side by side – you realised that it was no mysterious sickness at all. She had just been turning into a creature like her father. You gasped and took a step back, nearly falling down after stumbling.

“It is you…” You shook your head as tears filled your eyes when you laid them on your husband. “You are the sickness. You are the poison in her veins.”

But after hearing your words, Moreth looked outraged and saddened as she hid behind Adar. Her reaction shocked you. You knew that she had been missing him for long years but it had been you who actually raised her. Your bond was so strong and now she was siding with him? You couldn’t understand anything about her behaviour.

“Let us talk inside,” Adar pointed at one of the houses in the village that he was living in now.

Moreth walked there and waved at you to hurry you up as the Orcs kept staring at her and you with curiosity mixed with a little bit of respect. They had to realise by now that you were related to their Lord Father.

“Do not rush your mother, my darling,” Adar approached your daughter and put his arm around her. “She shall join us when she is ready to,” he nodded at you and you watched them both disappear inside the house.

You were left alone in the middle of the market square with dozens of Orcs staring at you and tilting their heads. You were unarmed and deeply uncomfortable in their presence even though they were not attacking or bothering you. They were just staring. Still, you would rather follow your daughter and Adar inside the house. There were many questions to ask.

Walking slowly without revealing your nervousness, you approached the door of the house and pushed them open. You spotted Adar and Moreth sitting together on a bench with a bowl full of water on the table in front of them. He was washing the mud and dirt off of your daughter’s hair gently just like he had been brushing and braiding it back in the day. The sight made your eyes fill with fresh tears again.

“It did not take you long, mother,” Moreth smiled at you weakly.

You looked around the dark house and felt awkward, not knowing what to do with yourself. You watched Moreth and Adar for a while as he silently cleaned her hair and face. You remembered that yours were dirty, too, so you approached the bowl and grabbed the spare cloth lying nearby as if it had been put there for you.

Slowly, you dipped the cloth in the water and wiped your face first, hissing when it touched the scratch on your cheek. Then you began working on your hair, brushing it with your fingers and getting rid of the dried up mud.

“How do you know Sauron and why did he lie to you about our death?” You asked finally. Moreth froze at your uncomfortable questions but Adar did not even flinch as he continued to brush her hair.

“I was lured by the promise of power given to me by Morgoth,” Adar explained calmly, avoiding your gaze. “I desired to learn everything I could about this world. Both light and dark,” he admitted, his voice stoic and melancholic. “After Morgoth’s defeat, I wished to come back for you and Moreth but Sauron wanted me to be his lieutenant. I refused at first. You and Moreth were all I was thinking about so he revealed to me that you were dead and that he had been sparing me the pain of this truth before. After seeing his vision, which felt incredibly real, I had nothing to lose. He had to deceive me to make me more willing to follow him,” Adar finally looked up to meet your gaze and you saw how his eyes filled with so much pain that it made your heart clench inside your chest. “If only I knew…”

“You do not speak of him fondly,” you did not let him finish as you pointed out. “I thought that the Orcs followed Sauron.”

“Uruks,” he fixed you. “After losing my family… they became like children to me,” Adar revealed. “Sauron does not care about them. He sacrifices them and treats them with no respect. I killed him once and now I am going to kill him again,” he told you.

You snorted at that as you started realising the absurdity of the whole situation. You couldn’t believe that your husband – whom you had been admiring for intelligence and knowledge – had acted so stupidly and proudly. So… haughty. That one day he had decided to abandon you to learn some forbidden magic tricks. What had he been expecting exactly?

And that your husband – whom you had been missing every day for many long years and whom you grieved – had been alive all that time, causing evil and misery all over Middle-earth.

“So… When you were telling me that you craved for something more… That’s the more that you meant?” You looked around with contempt.

“Mother, do not be so harsh. Father has been in so much pain, can’t you see?” Moreth stood up for him. “Are you not glad he is alive after all? We were told that you had been killed by Morgoth,” she looked at her father and cupped his face as if she still could not believe that he was alive. And as if she did not mind his cruel change at all.

“In many ways… I was, my child,” Adar smiled sadly at her.

“Let us go,” you insisted as you threw the cloth down onto the table, not needing it anymore. Adar and Moreth looked up at you both and once again you felt sick in your stomach as your insides twisted at the sight of how similar they were becoming. “She is sick, can’t you see? Her light is fading. Soon she will not be welcomed in Valinor.”

“I am not sick, mother!” Moreth interrupted you before her father could answer. “I could not understand this change either. For years, I have been tormented and scared, trying to fight it. But now I see that I have never been sick. Oh, can’t you see? This is exactly where I was supposed to end up. Nothing happens without a reason and the fact we were captured today was a part of the plan, too. Weren’t you always saying there had been a reason for us to be here, in Middle-earth? That is my purpose. I am not sick. I am becoming myself. Like father,” she nodded and squeezed Adar’s hands. He was staring at her lovingly and you could imagine that, indeed, those words had to feel like honey being poured onto his rotten heart – or whatever was left of it.

But for you her words were hideous and terrifying. You were staring at her in pure shock and you felt both sad and betrayed.

“No, that is not your purpose. Your blood is poisoned because of your father but… But there is still hope for you, Moreth. You are my daughter, too,” you pleaded. “Let us go,” you looked at Adar again and this time the tone of your voice was harsher. “We are going to Mirkwood to search for the answers.”

“There are no answers in Mirkwood,” your husband chuckled at that and caressed your daughter’s wrists with his thumbs as she kept squeezing his hands. “We might continue calling it a sickness if you wish, my love,” he nodded at you and you winced at the way he called you but at the same time it felt so… oddly good. However, you shook the feeling off. Your daughter and her health were more important than your heart’s conflicting desires. “The only person who can stop the sickness is Moreth herself. She would have to want to stop it and to truly fight it. She would have to seek the light instead of darkness. And those past years she has been chasing the corruption, haven’t you, my darling?” He asked Moreth and she looked down as your eyes widened.

“Moreth?” You asked her.

“It was stronger than me, mother. I have been studying things I should not have. I have blamed it on the sickness you were talking about. You were blaming my grief and sadness but it was not true. I took it for the symptom but it was the reason itself. I remembered that my father loved to learn and I tried to justify my hunger for the forbidden knowledge with the fact that I was his daughter. And I am his daughter indeed. Twisted, is it not, mother?” She looked up at you again, scared of your reaction. With each of her confessions, you felt your heart breaking into more and more pieces. Your whole world was crumbling down. Not only your husband but also your daughter were corrupted with great evil. “I still love you. I forever shall love you, mother. But do you still love me?”

“I forever shall love you,” you mirrored her words and felt tears stream down your cheeks. “It is too late for you,” you looked at Adar. “But not for her. Let her go. Help me,” you begged.

“You are right, (Y/N). It is too late for me and I do wish for my daughter to remain by my side if that is her wish,” Adar smirked, making you realise that you were not on the same page with this.

“Moreth?!” You took a step ahead but your husband stood up and shielded your daughter from you. That gesture hurt you deeply because you were the last person in the whole world who would ever want to put her in any form of danger. You furrowed your brows at him. “Is that what you want?” You kept asking your daughter although your eyes were fixed on her father as you were staring at him with hatred mixed with pain. It was a pure torture to see your beloved husband turning into a monster. All that grief and sadness after his death – they had been a useless waste of feelings after all. “Is that what you want?” You repeated your question. “To be an Orc Princess?” You asked with contempt through the gritted teeth.

“Uruk,” Adar fixed you again. You spotted anger in his eyes but he was very calm towards you and you realised he still had to have very strong feelings for you because even now, seeing what he had become, you felt no fear around him. As if you were sure that he would never hurt you. “You are free to go,” he added with a nod. “Tomorrow morning. You should rest now. I shall give you a horse and you can leave if you do not wish to stay,” he explained and walked away, finally allowing you to look at your daughter.

Your heart broke and your eyes filled with even more tears at the sight of your daughter. Now, seeing her face clearly, you could see that her decision had been truly made already. Her eyes – your eyes – were filled with tears that meant only one thing. She was preparing to say goodbye.

“Why can’t you stay, mother? We could be a family again,” Moreth pleaded.

“How can you expect me to stay? How can you even ask me?” You shook your head. “And how can you want to stay? Don’t you understand that you are robbing yourself of seeing all of your friends ever again? You are robbing yourself of the light of Valinor. You are robbing yourself of the beauty of Eregion, of the greatness of Mithlond… In the name of what?”

“Freedom,” Moreth answered in all seriousness. “Being a carrier of the light is an honourable task but the light is often a burden, too. I want to be free of the shackles – no matter how virtuous they are.”

“Then I have lost you,” you turned around and covered your lips with your hand to muffle your sob.

“Moreth, there is a room upstairs on the right,” Adar told her. “It is inhabited and it is yours for the night. Go there and rest. You have had a long day,” he nodded at her.

“Father,” she stood up and bowed her head at him. Then she looked at you and hesitated. “Mother…” She bowed her head, too. Waiting for you to say something but not receiving any reaction from you, she turned around and walked away to go upstairs.

You were left alone with Adar now and despite the fact he was your husband whom you still loved no matter what – it was hard to stop loving somebody so quickly, after all – you felt nothing but anger towards him now. He had stolen your daughter from you. His darkness had poisoned her and now you lost her.

“She is everything to me,” you swallowed a lump in your throat. You kept staring at the wall in front of you and you didn’t even flinch when he put his hand on your arm. It felt so odd to feel his touch again that it sent a shiver down your body.

“She is everything to me, too. So are you,” he whispered, standing right behind you. You could feel his breath on your neck. “Stay with us, (Y/N),” he pleaded in a broken whisper.

You stood like that in silence for a long while as your lower lip kept trembling and you were overthinking his proposition. Everything you cared for was here but you could not picture yourself taking part in this cruelty and destruction. On your way here, through the wooden bars of your cage, you could see what the Orcs and Adar had done to this land. You did not want to be a Queen of the ruins, ruling over the ashes in the name of the ungraspable idea of power.

You turned around very slowly, facing your husband. To see his face so damaged and full of scars made your heart weep. Carefully, you raised your hand to touch his cheek and to caress it as he watched your every movement with a hint of curiosity and affection.

“Why have you chosen me all those years ago? You told me you had spotted me but I have never understood why,” you whispered sadly, remembering the day when you first realised he had been watching you lovingly from afar.

“I have waited a long time to meet a woman like you. And I knew ever since I was very young that I would only marry if I met her,” Adar explained.

“And what do you mean by that? What was so special about me?” You swallowed thickly, scared of the answer.

“You know very well that Moreth’s darkness does not come only from me,” he smirked and held your wrist gently, intertwining your fingers together. You looked away nervously. “You are curious about what your life here would be like. I know your heart enough to know that you are thinking of it way too much than you should be,” he smiled but there was no contempt about it, just pure affection. You dared to meet his gaze and you nearly gasped when you saw how much he still loved you.

You even allowed him to kiss you. When Adar joined your lips together, you did not move away and you did not flinch. In fact, it felt so natural that you closed your eyes and did not even attempt to resist him in any way. You gave in, putting your hands flat on his chest.

And for that moment of the kiss, you could see it – you could see it all. You could see yourself walking next to him through the war camps like this one with Moreth following you. Both of you were wearing black dresses, your skins were sickly paler, your eyes were hollow and terrifying. You could hear yourself speaking in the tongue of the Orcs and you could see them bowing down at your sight. You could see the comfort in the darkness and your home being wherever your husband and daughter were.

But your visions were being fought with the faces of your friends and the beautiful cities of your kin. The images of Valinor were like sun rays penetrating your dark fantasies and making them fade away. And when the last little part of the ominous daydream disappeared, you broke the kiss. Both you and Adar looked at each other and he smiled sadly as his eyes filled with pain because he already knew what your decision was.

“I cannot stay,” you whispered.

He nodded without a word as he took a step back and walked away, leaving you all alone in the room.

You spent the night on the bench in the room downstairs and in the morning Adar kept his promise as he presented you with a horse after breakfast. During the meal you all were silent and you spotted that after that night your daughter looked even more sickly than usual as if her sickness had progressed very quickly all of a sudden. You tried not to comment and she tried not to beg with her words for you to stay but she kept asking for it with her eyes. For that reason, you tried to avoid her gaze.

The horse Adar had presented you with was black and it had a mark burnt on its side that you quickly learnt all the humans serving your husband had burnt on them as well. Moreth was standing behind her father when they walked you to the stables and watched you caress the horse’s neck.

You could not help the feeling that your life had no meaning outside this camp because you had no one to live for anymore if your daughter was supposed to stay here. Yet, remaining by your husband’s side felt too wrong.

And so did trying to force Moreth to change her mind. She was your daughter but she was her own person and old enough to make decisions for herself – no matter how much they hurt you.

Two Orcs walked inside the stables to join you and they awaited Adar’s orders. He pointed at you and smiled at them.

“Walk my wife out of the camp and make sure she is not bothered. Allow her to ride away in any direction she wishes to and remember her face because she is under our protection wherever you might see her again,” he ordered and you were quite surprised to hear those words. You knew he still loved you but you did not expect him to grant you such protection despite your decision to leave him.

“Yes, Lord Father,” the Orcs nodded and walked out of the stables.

One last time, you looked sadly at your daughter but you did not even hug her and she did not approach you either. After that, with a heavy heart, you followed the Orcs outside and allowed them to lead you out of the camp. They kept looking back all the time to make sure you were still walking behind them and they were nervously staring you up and down, which was quite annoying.

You finally reached the gate of the camp and they nodded at the other Orcs to open it for you. You were about to hop on your horse when you saw that the Orcs bowed in front of you.

“Farewell, Lady Mother,” one of them said.

“Do not call me that!” You snapped angrily and – filled with disgust – you mounted your horse and rode away as fast as possible although you had no idea what direction you should take.

Technically, you should hurry to Mithlond and inform Gil-galad about everything that had happened but you did not want to cause your daughter any problems. Conflicted, you hit the road ahead of you, not entirely sure where it was leading and allowing it to decide your fate.

Far behind you, Moreth was staring at your silhouette disappearing over the horizon while she stood by her father’s side. He was looking in the same direction as her but when she finally laid her eyes on him, she realised he was way calmer than her and there was even a shadow of a smile on his lips even though her own eyes were filled with tears.

“Are you not sad that she has left us?” Moreth asked.

“Do not weep, my child,” Adar wrapped his arm around his daughter and squeezed her arm comfortingly. “Your mother will come back to us sooner than you expect.”

MASTERLIST

[loserboyfriendrjl]

“I need your advice.” James jumped over the armrest and onto the couch. “About romance.”

“I’m the last person you should be asking about that.” Remus glanced up at him from his book. “You should probably better go to Sirius. He’s far more experienced than I am.”

“This is, ah, delicate.” James chuckled, ruffling his hair. “I need some advice about how to ask someone on a date.”

“Are you trying your luck with Lily again?”

“…Sure,” James grinned, “yeah. Actually, no. Someone that I’m really close with, which is exactly why I don’t know how to say it, because I don’t want to ruin the relationship that we have.”

“I don’t see why you’re all worked up about it.” Remus shrugged. “You’re James Potter, I thought you were sure you could hold up the sky like Atlas if you wanted to. Greek mythology,” He added, as an answer to his friend’s puzzled look. “Just say it. The worst thing that could happen is for them to say no. And didn’t you say — rejection’s better than regret?”

“You’re brilliant, Moony,” James said, kissing the top of Remus’ head.

[here-comes-the-moose]

So, I often talk about things that my grandfather does that I could see Tech doing, but this time I have something my dad does that I could see Tech doing.

My dad was and is always so involved when it came to our schoolwork, especially when it was a subject we were interested in. His dad wasn’t really around and wasn’t a great husband from what I’ve heard, so my dad has always taken being a father and husband VERY seriously (to him one of the worst things a man can be is a bad and/or absent father which is evident by what one of his favorite movie quotes is). A big part of this is him showing that he wants to be involved in things we’re excited about, but since he’s not an overly touchy-feely guy he does it in his own unique way. Two of the biggest examples I can think of is how I will mention a topic I’m learning about that is really interesting to me and then next thing I know he’s sending me every article he can find on that topic; another example is how when I mention a paper or project I completed or am working on that I’m excited about, he always asks to take a look at it and pretty much within the next twenty four hours he’s looked at it and sharing his thoughts, no matter how long it is. He did this even when I was away at college in a different state AND in a different time zone and even with my BA thesis.

This is just something I can really see Tech doing as a dad, since I feel we saw things like this in how he interacted with Omega. I can see him getting books for his kids on topics they’re interested in and trying to show them everything he can find about the topics. I can see him bringing his kids to museums, zoos, aquariums, etc. and just being excited to listen to his child and share in their excitement by asking questions and adding some thoughts of his own.

Idk I’m just really emotional lately and have a lot of feelings and thoughts right now 😭

[bleue-flora]

For absolutely no reason whatsoever, I feel like we should talk about Limbo. Because it’s a interesting topic with lots of space for theories and perhaps this will help us come back to some common ground of discussion, and be an open enough topic to allow everyone, whether someone who just joined the fandom or has been here for years, to hopefully feel safe and welcome enough to join in and share their thoughts and opinions. Go ahead and use the tag #dsmp limbo so I can see your thoughts, there is no right or wrong answer here.

To start off the discussion, we know the time dilation based on what Wilbur has said is about 30/1 - meaning every 1 second is 30 seconds in limbo, every 2 minutes is 1 hour in limbo, every 48 minutes is 1 day in limbo, every 1 day is a about 1 month in limbo and so on just to give you perspective. We also know based on both what happens in the finale and by what Dream says in the finale, that Limbo changes based on how you die and the circumstances around your death.

Now here are my thoughts at the moment on the matter. While a lot of times I see Limbo in fanfics more personalized to the person killed, one theory I came up with to explain Limbo is that it is actually is more connected to the situation around the death and killer/death.

For example, Schlatt died of a stroke and his limbo then becomes a gym, themeing off the fact of becoming healthy and fit something he wasn’t in life. That lead to his nation being taken over and him not being physically capable to stop it as well as him dying to a stroke, which we are encouraged to believe is caused by his alcoholism.

But I feel like perhaps Schlatt’s is the easiest to connect, Wilbur’s on the other hand is a little weirder. But I think the train station is actually connected to Philza having just arrived, so the relation to travel. Trains are often kept on a schedule to be on time and Philza’s appearance is just in time to kill Wilbur, but too late to stop him from pushing the button.

Mexican Dream’s limbo then reflects more of Dream than of Mexican Dream. With an empty, unfinished nation not unlike how empty and isolated Dream likely felt, as well as angry about nations for being the cause.

This theory becomes a little stronger when looking at Tommy’s 1st Limbo being an existence of basically nothing. And I think this reflects how Dream kinda has nothing at this point. Also relating to how Tommy killed the cat (and am I miss remembering that he also burned his clock?) the only thing(s) Dream had left. It could alternatively relate to an empty stomach adding an element from his death being from the potato.

Rambo’s limbo then connects to Sam for a few reasons, one I think Sam felt very alone in his efforts to keep Dream locked up. Like only he could do it and no one was helping him. It is also similar in the fact that Sam felt so cornered and trapped like killing Ranboo was the only thing he could do, similar to how one would feel stuck on a tiny island surrounded by water that burns. It’s also interesting since for Ranboo, the island is also inescapable like the prison and he is only able to leave when Mexican Dream comes (like Dream only escaping prison when Techno comes), oh and Sam lives on an island too.

Then finally Tommy’s 2nd Limbo I think pretty clearly relates to Tommy asking before he died about why and how Dream saw things, and Dream’s comment of “everything was fine before you came!” so Limbo shows Tommy Dream’s pov at the beginning. Reflecting how Dream feels, his - “I just don’t want to ever be alone.”

Anyways, hopefully that made some sense, those are just some thoughts I have at the moment. Now I wanna hear yours. :) How do you think limbo works? What do you think Punz’s and Dream’s Limbos were? What were Vik’s, Lazar’s and Connor’s Limbos? What do you think would have been Tubbo’s, Techno’s or other character’s Limbos? How was Quackity able to visit Limbo in Las Nevadas?…

[vanillawurld]

༊*·˚ Mi Corazoncito

✧.* Request- Anonymous

"Hii can you do a jealous joost like he sees you with ski aggu and gets jealousss💞🤍🤍"

✧.* Pair - Joost Klein x Fem! Reader (Slightly Ski Aggu x Fem! Reader)

✧.* Tags & Warnings - Jealousy, confessing, food(?) and tension

✧.* Summary - Joost gets jealous when he sees you interacting with his close friend. Seeing the girl he likes laughing with another man almost drives him insane.

✧.* Extra- AVENTURA AVENTURA I LOVE AVENTURA I LOVE AVENTURA AVENTURA NO LE DIGAS A NADIE LO MUCHO QUE TE QUIERO

✧.* Word Count - 1,739

Roomating with a producer can be a bit of a handful. There's always random people in their home, playing loud sounds, always hearing conversations or laughter. It's enough to make people want to move out, but not (Y/N). It was like that from the beginning though. She got tired of the loud noises and kept considering moving out, but that changed. She stayed because of the people she met. Her roommate introduced her to some of the coolest people ever.

One of those "coolest people" happened to be a Dutch musician by the name of Joost Klein. He wasn't just a cool person, he was an absolute sweetheart. He was a gentleman, some may say.

One of their first interactions happened in the kitchen. Joost was getting a drink out of the fridge while (Y/N) was reaching for a plate that was placed in a higher cabinet. She was tugging at the big batch of plates, she didn't realize the smaller ones on top were about to fall on her head. Joost noticed this and immediately jumped into action and caught the smaller plates. Joost asked (Y/N) if she was okay to which she jokingly responded with, "Oh my God you saved my life." That marked a new friendship in the process.

After that, Joost and (Y/N) started talking more, some conversations being taken to Instagram DM's or regular messages. Whenever Joost came over to work on new music, (Y/N) would be the first person in the room to talk to him. They easily connected and it was a euphoric feeling for both of them. As time went on, some feelings were starting to develop from both ends. The more they interacted with each other, the more those feelings got stronger. At first, it was a concerning issue for both Joost and (Y/N), but they individually came up with the idea 'If I don't tell, then nothing will happen.'

They never knew how hard that mentality was going to affect them.

It was another work day for (Y/N)'s roommate, meaning people were going to come over, also meaning Joost was coming over. (Y/N) waited on the living room couch for the door to make a knocking sound. Joost had a special knock that made (Y/N) instantly know it was him. It was the rhythm to (Y/N)'s favorite song. When she heard the rhythm knock, she shot up from the couch and basically ran to the door. She opened the door and was met with her blonde friend and another blonde that she didn't recognize. He had a pair of ski googles on top of his head which made him stand out just a bit.

"Hi stinky," (Y/N) heard Joost say. She smiled and gave him a hug and welcomed him and his friend in.

"How are you?" she asked Joost. He just just gave her a thumbs up and a dumb smile, which she adored.

"This is my friend, August," Joost pointed to his friend. "But you call him Ski Aggu because you're not his friend," Joost jokingly added.

(Y/N) smiled and rolled her eyes. She turned to August and put out her hand, to which he happily shook, "It's nice to meet you, my name's (Y/N)."

"It's lovely to meet you too, my friend Joost was telling me all about you," His voice and accent were deep. "You seem like a fun girl to be around," He continued, his tone changing just a tiny bit.

"I'd like to think I am," She replied. The atmosphere got a little thick in Joost's head. 'What did August mean by that? And why did (Y/N) even reply?' were thoughts going through Joost's head, but he pushed them away to not overthink.

The moment was put to an end when (Y/N)'s roommate opened his door, making everyone turn to him. "Oh shit, sorry guys. I kinda forgot you two were coming," he said, "The song's almost done, I just want Joost to make a bit more background vocals and then we're done. It shouldn't take long."

(Y/N) walked back to sit down on the couch and turned on the TV. She watched as Joost and August walked to her roommate's room to finish what they needed to do. August gave (Y/N) a little wave before entering the room, making her smile and wave back. Joost caught this and made him question even more, but didn't want to overthink it.

Before shutting the door, Joost turned to (Y/N) and jokingly said, "No girls allowed."(Y/N) giggled and told him to shut up and get to work in a joking manner.

Seconds turned to minutes, minutes turned to hours, at least that's what it felt like to (Y/N). (Y/N) never gave the work her roommate did any interest, even though she loves listening to music. It was ironic. But one thing she learned from her roommate, making music isn't easy or for the weak.

(Y/N) was distracted on her phone until she heard a door open. She looked up from her device and saw August walking toward the kitchen to look for a snack. She watched as he walked towards the pantry and opened it up to see what he can munch on. She kind of felt bad because her roommate didn't really buy snacks like she did. August was struggling to figure out what to get because he didn't know which snacks he was allowed to get.

"You know, I have a full bag of takis towards the back. You can have them if you want." (Y/N) suggested.

August looked at her, back at the pantry, and back at her. "Are you sure?" he asked. (Y/N) nodded and told him she didn't mind. He smiled and reached toward's the back to find a party-sized bag of chips.

August was about to go back to the room until he realized that (Y/N) was all alone. He felt bad leaving her alone while he was with his friends working. He wanted to get to know her, alone. He sat next to her and turned towards her. "You're really nice." was all August said.

(Y/N) giggled. "Thank you, but why are you saying that?"

"Well, I don't know anyone else who would let me have their full bag of chips, let alone a party-size bag," August answered.

(Y/N) laughed at his response. At the end of the day, it was never that serious, but (Y/N) loved when people took their gratitude to a silly level. "This guy almost never buys snacks and whenever he does, he eats it in the same hour." She added, referring to her roommate.

August and (Y/N) continued their conversation that started because of a bag of chips. August kept making (Y/N) laugh with his responds and comments, which caught the attention of another musician in the very next room. "Damn, bro. He's taking your girl," Joost's producer friend jokingly said. Joost lightly punched him on the shoulder and got up to "Investigate."

When Joost walked out the room, he instantly noticed how close August was sitting next to (Y/N). That made his stomach feel weird. He hated watching another man make (Y/N) laugh, especially if it was one of his friends. He wanted to jump into the conversation so he didn't feel left out. "Guys, i'm kind of hungry," was all he said to break their conversation.

August and (Y/N) looked at Joost. "I'm kind of hungry too, i'm not going to lie," (Y/N) added, "I could door-dash us some food but.... I honestly don't want to pay that much for delivery."

"Oh, August and Teun can go get the food," Joost immediately suggested.

August looked at Joost and raised his eyebrow. "Why can't you go?" he asked.

"Because I don't want to and I need to record more adlibs," Joost replied. There was an awkward silence between the two blondes. (Y/N) didn't know why but she felt like there was weird tension between the two. The more they stared at each other, the more the tension was because thicker, someone could cut it with a knife. The weird moment was broken when Teun walked out the room and said, "Come on, August. You can choose what we eat," He was while grabbing his keys.

August mentally sighed and got up to leave with Teu, leaving Joost and (Y/N) alone. It didn't take (Y/N) much to realize Joost was bothered about something. "Are you okay?" she asked. Joost turned around and muttered about him being fine. (Y/N) was bothered by his response and called him out, "Don't do that. Don't. I know something is wrong, so tell me."

Joost slowly turned back around to look at (Y/N) and was mentally debating on whether he should tell her or not. He looked at the ground like a little kid that's about to get in trouble and sighed. "Honestly..." was all he could get out while making a quick pointing gesture at the door.

(Y/N) didn't understand what he meant until she connected the dots when she remembered the tension between August and him. She gave him a sympathetic smile and patted the spot next to her on the couch. He quickly sat next to her and she laid her head on his shoulder, making his heart race. "He can never replace you," she whispered to him.

Joost chuckled and reached to lay his hand on her cheek and jawline, covering her mouth. He felt like in that moment, it was the right time to let her know how he felt. "I like you, a lot. And I hate how a situation involving a man made me tell you," he confessed.

It was silent for a couple of seconds. Making Joost worry. "I like you more, but I still want to get to know you," (Y/N) replied. Joost smiled and looked at her.

"How about I let you know me more over dinner?" Joost asked. (Y/N) gave him a big smile and nodded. She gave him a quick kiss on his temple and got up to run to her room. Joost watched as she disappeared into her room. He finally got the girl he wanted and was once grateful for his envy.

˖◛. *. ⋆ Vanilla Speaks

im back because im bored. writing with nails is hard so sorry if theres mistakes </3

it took a mid ass man to break my heart to get me to come back onto here