#another i case of me against free will sadly

[kaiser1ns]

𝗺𝗶𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗲𝗹 𝗸𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

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╹synopsis :: good luck appears suddenly, even if it's just for little while, but there is always hope and faith for another tomorrow.

╹contents :: MAP OF THE SOUL PT. 2, 2.4k words, fluff + angst, KAISER BACKSTORY TW: physical abuse, alcohol.

╹taglist :: @chaosinanutshell @rinitoshisgirl @thebluelockroyals

Closing the door as he heard a glass breaking once he stepped outside in the sun that shined upon him, giving some type of warmth as he put the black hood over his head walking away from the so called 'home'. As Michael strolled through the neighborhood, the faint jingle of a bell caught his attention. Pausing, he realized the sound ceased whenever he stopped. Strange, the boy though and continued walking, the bells chiming anew as he moved forward. Turning, he spotted a sleek black cat with a white collar and a bell attached to it.

A lost cat? Kneeling down, he inspected the collar, discovering the cat's name, Felicity, and a phone number. Too bad he didn't have a phone to call and get the cat out of here. Well, there's nothing for me to do. He patted the cat on the head, got up and continued to walk aimlessly leaving the animal behind. Michael was now a little further away, and there was no sound of the tinkling of a bell. Maybe the cat found its owner already and is taken care of by receiving treats and pats.

Speaking of treats his stomach rumbled, and before he went out, he took a little bit of his savings in case of getting hungry. It was strange for him to go into the store and buy something instead of stealing it like his father wanted him to do. He took the most ordinary sandwich with ham, cheese and some sauce. When he was at the register paying, he saw the candy Y/N gave him as a reward — he will keep the location of the sweets in mind.

Walking out of the store, holding the soccer ball in one hand and the sandwich in the other, the blonde boy made his way to the playground where he first saw the girl two weeks ago, and sadly he hadn't seen her since. Well the boy can't blame her — she probably went to school and has other close friends to hangout with, something he doesn't have. Sitting on the ground, leaning against the graffiti wall he began to eat, until suddenly the sound of a bell was heard again.

Michael looked up, his eyes locking with the familiar black cat from earlier. She mewed at him, her white collar glinting in the sunlight as she approached rubbing at his leg. He couldn't help but smile at her persistence. "You again, huh?" he murmured, tearing off a piece of ham from his sandwich and offering it to her.

The cat wasted no time, devouring the ham eagerly. Once they both finished their meal he got up and without hesitation, started dribbling and kicking the ball around. To his surprise, the cat seemed intrigued, her paw batting at the ball whenever it came close. It reminded him of someone, though he couldn't quite put his finger on who. Michael took a break, sitting back against the wall and Felicity wasted no time in curling up in his lap, purring contentedly as he stroked her fur. It was a rare moment of peace for him, every time he goes out it's his free time from the prison with the awful guard that stayed in. He cherished moments like that more than anything and he wished to see Y/N again, so they can play together and maybe win another pack of candy.

As he enjoyed the quiet moment with the cat, he heard footsteps approaching. Turning his head, he saw the angel in disguise running towards him, clutching a poster in her hand that had a photo of the now sleeping pet. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of her bright smile and eyes that were glossy, Did she cry?, he wondered but her sad face was quickly replaced upon seeing the boy.

"Michael!" the girl exclaimed, relief evident in her childish voice as she reached him. "Thank you for finding Felicity! I was so worried to where she could have gone."

A smile graced Michael's lips as he realized the cat belonged to her. No wonder it reminded him of someone he knew. "I didn't know it was yours," he admitted, still patting the sleeping feline. "She just followed me all day."

You chuckled, your eyes twinkling with amusement. "She has this habit of following people, though it was only family members and not one of my friends." The word friends echoed in Michael's mind, stirring something warm and unfamiliar in his chest. He looked into Y/N eyes, feeling something that he had never imagined to exist, as if he was lost in the galaxy with millions of stars to explore, falling deeper and deeper into the black holes, losing himself. What's this feeling? Why is my heart beating so fast? He couldn't figure it out, what's happening inside him, and why is she the reason for it?

"And you know animals can sense if a person is good or not, so she chose you for a reason." Michael couldn't help but feel a flutter of warmth at your words, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "I'm glad I could help," he replied softly, his gaze still locked with yours. "And I'm glad you were here, because I was going to ask you to help me, but there is no need anymore."

There was a moment of silence between them, Michael shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say next. But before he could gather his thoughts, Y/N spoke again, her voice gentle and caring.

"Michael, are you okay?" she asked, eyes searching his face with concern. "Where did you hurt yourself?"

For a moment, panic gripped Michael's chest as he instinctively reached for the hood of his jacket, pulling it over his head to hide the scar his father had left that morning. "I fell very hard on the ground while dribbling," he lied, of course he would lie not to make her worry about his personal matters and mostly not to scare her, because what if she tells her parents about him being abused? It will not end well.

The girl frowned, clearly not convinced by his answer. But instead of pressing further, she reached into her bag and pulled out some pink bandages. "Sorry, it's the only color I have left," apologizing, a small smile playing on her lips as she gently applied the bandage to his forehead.

Michael's heart swelled as he watched Y/N tend to him with such care and kindness. Despite his best efforts to keep his struggles hidden, she always seemed to see right through him, offering comfort and support without hesitation. It was a feeling he wasn't accustomed to, but one he found himself craving more and more with each passing day.

As she finished bandaging his wound, Michael couldn't help but meet the girl's gaze once again, his eyes soft and vulnerable — a child's look. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, but it was genuine.

A smile tugged at the corners of Y/N lips as she reached out to tuck a hair behind his ear, wanting to see his beautiful and gentle face. "Anytime, Michael, friends help eachother."

For twelve year old he thought she was very mature, always so kind, so gentle — a beacon of light in his otherwise dark world. He couldn't help but be jealous at her innocence and grace, hoping that she would never lose that spark, unlike him, cursed by the mistakes of two adults.

"Also I'm sorry for not showing up, I know you must have been waiting for me"

He just stared at the girl slowly nodding his head acknowledging what she said but he wasn't mad, not even in the slightest. The cat who slept in Michael's lap woke up and went to her owner "Felicity don't you run away like that!" Y/N scolded the cat but of course the animal just let out a 'meow' as she laughed enjoying a moment with her pet then she looked back at Michael who was still staring.

"Hey, Misha, do you want to play tomorrow?"

"Misha?" Y/N giggled, noticing Michael's uncertain expression at the nickname. "Sorry, is it okay if I call you Misha? It just popped into my head, and it's kinda cute, don't you think?"

Michael blinked, a faint blush dusting his cheeks as he processed her words. "I mean, sure, yeah," he replied, his voice softening at the end. Looking doen kicking the ball with his feet to distract himself from the burning tension in his body. He couldn't deny the warmth that spread through him at the sound of her calling him by that name.

Y/N grinned, delighted by Michael's response. "Great! Misha it is then." She scooted closer, her excitement bubbling over. "So, tomorrow, let's meet at the playground at 14:00. We can play some soccer, swing on the swings, and I can give you the cookies I made. What do you say?"

Michael's heart skipped a beat at the thought of spending more time with Y/N. "Yeah, that sounds cool," he said, his smile widening. "I'll be here."

As they continued chatting, Y/N suddenly leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Hey, Misha, can I ask you something more?"

"Yeah," Michael replied, a hint of curiosity in his voice. Y/N hesitated for a moment before mustering up the courage to ask, "Um, do you have a phone? I thought maybe we could exchange numbers so we can call eachother for when to play."

Michael's cheeks flushed even deeper as he nervously played with the ball. "Um, actually, I don't have a phone," he admitted, feeling a pang of embarrassment. "Sorry."

Y/N's smile didn't falter as she reached out to gently squeeze his hand. "Hey, it's okay. Don't worry about it," she reassured him "We can still meet up here at the playground whenever we want to hang out, okay? And if anyone of us doesn't show up we can always see eachother the next time."

A sense of relief washed over Michael as he gazed into Y/N's comforting gaze. "Yeah, okay," he agreed, feeling grateful for her understanding. With a bright smile the youngster nodded, her eyes filled with happiness. "See you tomorrow at 14:00 then?"

"Yeah, see you tomorrow," the young boy replied, his smile matching hers as they made plans for their next date. Y/N and Michael stood facing each other as the silence fell, but it was calm and pleasant, not oppressive as if they were expecting some monster to come out of nowhere.

"Thanks for looking after Felicity," Y/N said softly, leaning in and planting a quick kiss on Michael's cheek, it was a tender action, making him melt on the spot, something so simple meant a lot — it was his first kiss, his first touch filled not with anger and hatred but instead of love and care. She was causing his heart to flutter even more, was it not enough for his heart to beat so fast earlier?

"It was no problem," Michael replied, trying to hide the excitement in his voice. With a shy smile, she turned to leave, her cat cradled in her arms. Watching her go, feeling a sense of longing already creeping into his chest as he didn't want this moment to end, not now, not ever. Michael touched his cheek gently, still feeling the warmth of her lips lingering there, is this what it feels like to be blessed with angel's grace? He hopes he will get to experience it again. Realizing he was standing alone in the fading light, the sounds of laughter and play fading into the distance.

He took a deep breath and he was infront of his home, his heart now heavy with the weight of the inevitable goodbye and the welcoming sounds of glass breaking.

Opening the door he was met with his drunk father who was watching TV but he didn't seem entertained and the bottles and trash on the ground made it for the energy in the house. But before the boy stepped further into the room he removed the patch from his forehead because he knew there would be even more scars if a bystander helped him and he wanted to keep Y/N safe.

His father's eyes snapped towards him, bloodshot and furious.

"Why the hell aren't you home earlier?" His father's voice boomed, shaking the walls of their small house. "I told you to be back hours ago, you useless piece of shit!"

The boy swallowed hard, trying to find the right words to appease his father's anger. "I'm sorry, Dad. I lost track of time."

"Lost track of time?" His father's voice rose, the frustration palpable in every word as he got up from the couch. "And where's the damn alcohol I asked you to bring,huh?"

The boy's heart sank. He had hoped his father wouldn't notice, but the empty bottles strewn across the floor were impossible to miss. "I... I couldn't find any," he stammered, knowing it was a feeble excuse.

The older man's face turned a dangerous shade of red. His eyes widened, his pupils narrowed, and the emotions he displayed were enough to scare anyone. Maybe it's better for his mother that she's gone so she doesn't have to see this, even though that she is the cause of everything. "Couldn't find any? You stupid pig..."

Before he could finish his sentence, the boy's father lunged towards him, his words drowned out by a tidal wave of anger and disappointment. The boy braced himself for the onslaught, knowing that this was just another night in their tumultuous existence. But amidst the chaos, he made a silent vow to be stronger so he can have another day to see his angel.

With a swift motion, his father's hand connected with his cheek, the same cheek Y/N kissed him now is tarnished, sending him crashing to the ground. He layed there, stunned and helpless, as his father's tirade continued, the sound of breaking glass punctuating each sentence. There was no defense, no escape from the torrent of anger that engulfed him. All he could do was endure, his body trembling with fear and resignation but he was already so used to it.

Each blow, both physical and verbal, carved deeper into his already bruised soul. But through the haze of pain and despair, one thought burned brighter than the rest: he had to stay strong, for her. For the hope of a better tomorrow, where he could see his blessing sent from above, but why isn't he blessed with good fortune right now? Is his suffering not enough, dear God?

As his father's rage finally subsided, leaving only a hollow silence in its wake, the boy clung to that flicker of hope, knowing it was all he had to hold onto. Will something be different? But this day will be over when the minute and second hands overlap as the world holds its breath for a little while.

Felicity means happiness, good fortune

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.

[dira333]

The Soulmate Theory - Todoroki Shouto x Reader

I welcome you to my probably last-ever Soulmate fic. As much as I love reading this trope, it's gotten harder and harder to write. I hope you like it. This is for @shoulmate

Trope: You share your Soulmate's pain.

Soulmates used to be a thing. 

A long, long time ago, way before the first ever Quirk was documented, Soulmate bonds were just as common as Quirks are nowadays.

Your grandmother used to be fascinated by it, told you stories about her grandmother who was convinced she shared a soulmate bond even though not one case had been documented in the last hundred years before her.

It’s only natural, you’d say, that you didn’t realize you had one. After all, why would you think that?

-

Pain has always been part of your life.

Your wrists hurt and your legs hurt and your back hurts and your stomach hurts… all the time. The doctors cannot find anything, some even accuse you of pretending for attention. You’d gladly trade all that attention against a pain-free day.

Your Quirk’s Telekinesis and you’re so glad about it, because how else would you be able to move that pen and write that notes when your hands hurt like this?

You’re getting better at it too, threading a needle or picking up the last grain of rice with your thoughts alone. 

-

A dull ache has settled behind your left eye after what has been the most intense pain flare you’ve ever had. All you want to do is rest. 

But your mind is reeling, craving an outlet for all the thoughts inside your head.

Your restless eyes find some fabric in the corner of the room. Soon enough a few needles are working their magic, a creation coming to life before your eyes.

You might not be able to walk around most days, but at least you can still create outfits you’d love to flaunt in.

-

Years later

-

“Can you take over my student?” Kameko asks, “He wants a completely new costume.”

“What year?”

“First year. And his old one wasn’t even destroyed.”

“So? Maybe he found something out about himself.”

She huffs. “Please? I still have to finish Amajiki’s new design and you know how anxious he gets.”

“Yeah, no problem. Can you take another first year off my plate then? His name is Midoriya and he ripped it in half, it seems.”

“Oh yeah, give it to me.”

Someone clears their throat. You look up from your work into a set of heterochromatic eyes, one blue, one grey.

“Yes?” You ask. “How can I help you?”

“I’m here for my new Costume.”

“Are you Midoriya?” You point at the green fabric on your desk, or rather what’s left of the costume.”

“No, I’m Todoroki Shouto.”

“Ah,” Kameko doesn’t even look guilty at being caught. “You’re with her then. Do you need the think tank?” She points at the cubicle where you can go and plan outfits.

Todoroki looks like he isn’t quite sure, so you carefully slide off your chair and shuffle over.

“Come, come,” you wave at him, “It’s never wrong to brainstorm.”

“Are you hurt?” He asks and has the decency not to point at how you clearly favor your left leg. 

“Not more than usual,” you try to joke and though he looks a little confused, he doesn’t ask more questions.

.

Todoroki is a quiet individual. He’s not shy, that you perceive immediately, but he makes sure to check if he’s allowed to speak before he opens his mouth.

He’s also insanely pretty, the red, rough skin over his left eye giving him even more appeal. But he’s also one year younger than you, so you keep those thoughts locked away in the back of your head.

“If you want to change the design, we can do that, no problem.” You remind him when you’ve finally found something he seems almost happy with.

“I don’t want to cause you more work.”

“If you don’t cause me any work I’d have nothing to do,” you joke and he looks at you quietly for a while. You wonder if he’s ruminating over your joke or waiting for you to talk on and sadly, you’re more than likely to ramble in a confusing silence.

You gesture, somehow now talking about the importance of fresh orange juice for the human body, a topic you didn’t even know you could talk about beforehand when your hand connects harshly with the door behind you. Your wrist catches the doorknob and the pain is immediate, sharp and cool, like you’d imagine being stabbed with an icicle would feel like.

Todoroki hisses behind you and you’d compliment him on the empathy if it wouldn’t hurt like that.

When you turn, hand pressed against your chest, he’s cradling his own hand before dropping it. “Musclespasm,” he explains quietly, offering you a hand that is covered in ice. “Do you want me to cool it? It helps.”

-

“I’d like to add some more details to my costume,” Todoroki approaches you with a Bento Box in hand.

You nod, unable to speak for a moment as you focus your Quirk on a particularly tough seam.

“No problem, as I said. What’s it about?”

“Could we use the think tank?”

You turn to check but it’s clearly occupied.

“Sadly not. Is it more complicated then?” You nod at the Bento Box. “Do you think it will keep us occupied during lunch break?”

“No, this is…” Todoroki hesitates for a second before holding it out to you. “It’s just something I wanted to give you. My sister made these.”

 You open it with curious fingers to reveal twelve perfectly shaped cookies.

“That’s lovely, but why me?”

His cheeks turn pink and his lips curl into an adorable pout before he eventually talks.

“I mentioned that I was pleased with the changes and she told me to say thank you.”

“Aww,” you coo. “Your older sister then?”

“Yes,” the pout exaggerates, “I would have said thank you without her intervening.”

“Of course you’d have.” - “But my cookies didn’t turn out good.”

You both speak at the same time, or rather you accidentally interrupted him and he still talked on.

You stare at him now, mouth agape as you process his words.

“You made cookies for me?”

“Yes,” Todoroki nods, “I wanted to say thank you.”

“It’s my job.”

“I still want to say thank you.”

“Next time,” you joke, not quite realizing what you’re saying until it has left your lips and your brain has caught on, “just bring me the Cookies you made. It’s the thought that counts.”

He stares at you with wide eyes for what feels like eternity before a soft pink blush blooms on his cheeks.

You hide your own face in the box of Cookies, hope that he won’t hear the thunderous beating of your heart over the noise of you eating one.

They’re delicious. Of course they are.

-

You don’t know how or when or even why, but clearly, there’s a friendship growing between you and Todoroki Shouto. He’s stopped claiming he’s only dropping in for new additions to his costumes and in turn you’ve tried quite a few of his food creations, each one of them worse than the last.

But he’s cute and honest and real about it and you couldn’t do better if you tried anyway.

Your pain, however, doesn’t stop just because you’ve found work you enjoy or friends to spend your time with.

There are days where you cannot get out of bed. Days where strong painkillers allow you to get to school only for everything to go past you because those painkillers leave you loopy and tired, falling asleep over some costume in the early afternoon hours.

At least you’re not in the Hero Course, you think on the worst days, because you’ve seen the bruises Training leaves on Shouto’s arms and legs.

That’s before you realize that Training is the least of all his problems.

-

Third Year

“How are you?” You ask, because what else do you ask your Crush Slash Good Friend you haven’t seen in months?

Shouto’s got new scars, he’s grown, and he’s fought in a war while you were bedridden from pain, your mother scared out of her depths that you’d die in an attack, unable to move.

But you survived and so did he and if you can believe what you’ve heard on the news, he’s found out some things about his family too.

“Tired,” he admits, dragging a hand through his hair, “I missed you.”

You wonder how hard it was for him to admit that. 

 “Think tank?” You ask, slipping off your chair when he nods.

The last few days have been painless and even though you’re anxious about what’s to come after that, you can’t help but enjoy it.

When the door closes after him, you realize just how small that cubicle really is. 

Or maybe it’s just that Shouto doesn’t step away like he used to do, staying so close to you that you could count every single one of his long lashes if you wanted to.

“Can I hug you?” He asks and you nod, unable to say anything, even less when he pulls you in.

He’s tall and strong, cool on one side and warm on the other and your face nuzzles into his neck like it was meant to be like that anyway.

You don’t speak for a while, just hold each other in the semi-privacy this room provides.

“I want to take care of you,” Shouto whispers at some point. “Can I?”

Somehow it doesn’t surprise anyone that you two end up dating.

-

Your third year is almost painless.

Sure, there are frequent days where you’re sore for no reason whatsoever, but that is nothing against the blinding pain that had tied you to a bed for weeks before. 

Sometimes, Shouto pouts about that. He thinks it’s his job as your boyfriend to look after you and what good is he for if you don’t need looking after?

His friends tell you that he’s less reckless now - as if he’d ever been - making sure to keep himself safe because you need him.

You’ve met his sister, one of his older brothers and his mother, all of them nice, though maybe a bit distanced. 

Emotional vulnerability doesn’t seem to come easy to them.

Shouto, however, likes to talk about his feelings in depth. And he wants to know how you’re feeling too, listening with wide eyes as you explain.

Should it be weird that you’re dating someone younger than you? If so, you’re doing it wrong. 

-

The first(?) hint

“Do we need anything from the store?” You ask, phone crammed between your ear and shoulder as you grab your stuff from the passenger seat.

“I was going to get the groceries,” Shouto huffs on the other side of the call and you can see it, how he pouts at the thought that you’re doing it instead of him.

“I was already on my way. You can do the laundry.”

“I hate doing the laundry,” he groans and you giggle. “I know. I’m going to help you with it, don’t worry.”

“I could cook,” he offers and you giggle again, opening the door to step out. “As much as I love you, Shouto, I don’t love your cooking.”

“Fine,” he says, sounding exactly like a child that didn’t get its way, “But we do face-masks while doing the laundry.”

“Of course. I’ll call you back later, okay? I need both hands for shopping.”

“Sure. I’ll buy you more headphones in the meantime.”

There are a few more teasing remarks, a last “I love you” and then you shove your phone back in your purse and turn to where you think the shopping carts are located.

You don’t see the step in front of you before it’s too late and then you’re tumbling through the air. It happens slowly and then all at once and you’re not really sure what hurt first and what hurts the most. 

For a moment you’re just lying there, face down on the pavement, trying not to puke, collecting your thoughts as if they scattered on your floor just like your open purse.

Your phone starts ringing and that seems the most manageable task so you pick it up from right in front of you and press it against your ear.

“Yes?” You ask.

“Love, are you okay?” Shouto sounds worried.

“No, I just tripped and fell,” you pick your head up from the asphalt and squint at your stuff in front of you, “in the middle of the parking lot.”

“Just after you hung up I felt a lot of pain and I just… I knew it was you.” 

-

It keeps happening after that.

It doesn’t help that you’re clumsy, but maybe that’s for the best now, as you try and figure out this weird coincidence.

If you hurt yourself, Shouto feels the pain.

If Shouto hurts himself, you feel the pain. 

It’s only after he almost gets buried by a collapsing building that you actually tell a Doctor. Or rather Midoriya unloads all the Data he has collected on the poor, unassuming Recovery Girl.

The most likely answer, as strange as it might sound, is the Soulmate Theory.

“Since you’re the first documented case in hundreds of years we don’t have anything to prove this theory. But I’m quite positive that more cases will follow.”

You blink back at her, not quite understanding. Shouto’s left hand, one of the few places of his that are not covered in bandages, squeezes yours.

“You know what that means, right?” He asks.

“Yeah. We’re most definitely never going to break up.”

His eyes widen in a way you’ve grown familiar with. No matter how long you’ve been dating, you still seem to be able to surprise him.

“No,” he presses out weakly, “I meant… That all the pain you went through as a child and teenager, that was me. It’s my fault.”

You lean down to press a kiss to the little spot above his eyebrows that has come away unscathed.

“I’m not saying it was nice, but if I could take at least a little bit of the pain you went through, I’d say it was worth it.”

-

You’re pretty sure Shouto would disagree, but in your eyes Soulmates are not quite as fancy as they’re made out to be.

After all, you found him on your own, didn’t you?

[kateysummers99]

Do you think the WWBM Interacial movement has now got to a critical point where momentum has starting to challenge even the majority of White Women now as far as there choices for relationship ? May we as White Males even lose this group of females to African Men more then we keep ourselves ?

The short answer is definitely yes.

Because of my own personal experiences and also just looking at major social trends, it's pretty obvious that IR relationships (in general, but specifically white girls and black guys) are much more common now than they were 10, 30, and 30 years ago. 

I think there are lots of reasons for this and I’m obviously not an expert (I work in finance, not cultural psychology), but lets just look at the obvious trends:

Girls today are more empowered in general, and especially regarding sexuality and romance. I mention this a lot on this blog, there are less things hold girls back than there used to be. Movies and TV and culture in general are so much more accepting that people can love who they want to love, and that applies especially to society being more accepting of girls expressing their sexuality. I grew up in a time when dating black guys was an obvious but implied no-no, and it's just not the same today. (Note this is NOT true everywhere. Sadly there are racists and homophobes still, but they will probably be holdouts until they die.)

Black men are idolized for their physicality and masculinity by society more and more every day. Sports, music, advertising media, movies, social media and TV shows - you name it, black guys are constantly the icon of masculinity, status and power. This is really true for their masculinity, where we regularly fetishize the sexual prowess of black men in every day culture with phrases like “once you go black you never go back.” 

Porn is free and everywhere. Also something that wasn’t the case when I was growing up, but now you just pick up any cell phone and in a few seconds be privately and anonymously staring at an amazing black man and his huge black cock (or whatever your fantasy is).

Also in the last few years, social justice and institutional racism has become a hot topic, I think a lot of women recognize that the same old white male patriarchy that has been suppressing women since the beginning of time has also been responsible for suppressing Black people. This puts white women and black men on the same side on a pretty deep level, where they see each other in the same existential struggle for happiness against the common enemy that is old white guys.

Another interesting thing that I've read reports about is more and more young white guys who are essentially "staying single" forever, sometimes due to porn addiction. They make a sexual connection with porn that is easy and judgment free, which is the opposite of the real-world dating situation where they deal with complex social dynamics and competition (including trying to compete against more masculine black men who are constantly in movies and music).

So if that's a growing tend... then young women find themselves more free in choosing partners, society idolizing black guys, exposed to IR sex and porn, and more culturally aligned with black guys… and young white guys basically removing themselves from the dating pool.

As for me personally, I have always thought think black guy / white girl couples are the most beautiful -- there's a special passion and primal attraction that goes deep down that you just don't see with other couples.

So yes, I think black guy and white girl couples are definitely more and more popular. I don’t think we’ll ever get to a point where all white men are unwanted forever (sorry white boys who message me, desperate to live in such a world), but I do think increasingly empowered girls and wider acceptance of female sexuality will naturally trend to more black guys and white girls together - which is all beautiful to me :)

[afreakingdork]

This is a bit embarrassing to admit and I’ve been putting off sending an ask for weeks, but seeing as Weak Spot is almost complete I figured it’s now or never; I daydream about the world you’ve created all the time, it’s like my go-to happy place in my head. Before I say anything I just wanna make sure you know I’m not asking you to write this, Weak Spot is your story and I already know what you have planned will make me weep on another Saturday morning. I just really want to share my thoughts because your story has been living in my head rent free like ever since I binge read 1-39 in one weekend. Do you think it’s possible that Donnie and Chester will ever meet again? I’ve been imagining what a wedding chapter might be like since 45 and my favourite ‘what if;’ I’ve come up with is what if Y/N were to send an invitation to Chester? I think I just really want Chester to see how much Donnie has grown and give him that ✨approval of a parental figure✨ he so craves. Perhaps the invitation being instrumented exclusively on Y/N’s behalf as a surprise for Don? I really wanna know what you might think 人´∀｀)

Oh gosh, no need to be embarrassed because I do the same thing! It's literally how I come up with all my little ideas! I really appreciate you sharing this and I'm proud of you for being brave to do so.

Narratively, it doesn't make sense for Donnie to meet Chester again sadly. Sometimes you bounce of people in your life and the interactions don't go the way you want. That doesn't mean that because you had to part ways that they weren't important. Sometimes those people you meet in blips are the most important of all (exactly why Sandwich Spot exists, but outside the main story because while it helps point the exact moment Donnie realized life existed outside of himself, it's not something reader will ever know firsthand, but they do know it because it shaped how Donnie is now).

So Donnie will never see Chester again, but that being said... I couldn't help but be inspired by what you wrote. so please, have this gift...

A moment in time in the not so far flung future that may or may not happen in Soft Spot:

He was getting too old for this.

"Come now! Violet can walk herself." Chester urged.

Or Harry had a point.

"But, pop-pop! She's so slow!" Jade whined where she was pulling her little sister.

Those morning swim classes were looking more and more appealing.

Violet pulled back on the arm that was wrenched in her sister's grasp.

Harry had been more spry since he started attending.

"What was it you were teaching me about sayings?" Chester tried a new tactic.

Meanwhile, Chester had only gotten lazier in retirement.

"Oh!" Jade lit up and let go to think with her entire body. "Let's see..."

His chair sat him so well, though.

Violet righted herself from where she toppled over and took a breath.

He'd always thought with his first grandchild getting older, he'd have to do less lifting.

"It's the one about the cow!" Jade hopped.

With the second, however, it had doubled his required strength.

"Close... How about another animal?" Chester smiled.

He wouldn't trade them for the world though.

This time recognition came to Jade with a slow glow. "You lead a horse to water..."

What a happy life he had the honor of living.

"But..." Chester nodded for her to continue.

Violet got herself onto her two feet and took a few shuffling steps toward him.

He prepared for that weight on his hips and held his hands out ready for her.

"You can't make him drink..." Jade curled a finger to her lips. "So with Vi...?"

With a grunt and groan, Chester got Violet up in his arms.

The little one curled against him, fatigued.

The park was a big, exciting world for a toddler.

"It means..." Chester paused in case Jade wanted to come to the conclusion herself.

Instead, her eyes shined as she stared up at him, ready for the answer.

"You can do everything in your power to help someone, but you can't force them to accept it." He explained.

Jade took a few steps toward him and pondered so hard it made her forehead scrunch up.

She was adorable.

A huge stock of black fabric passed by like a moving obelisk.

It pulled Chester's eye where he readjusted Violet's load.

It wasn't an inanimate object, but a long black coat.

It donned a very tall man who moved to the other side of the playground.

There, he found a spot to stop and in a turn revealed a blotch of green.

Topped with a shock of rich purple.

Eyes wide and free hand suddenly flapping anxiously for Jade's, Chester felt himself pale.

Donatello.

He hadn't seen the boy in years.

After the first few, Chester had been left to hope that Donatello had only taken his advice.

Despite the bitter end, he wished him nothing, but the best.

Donatello spoke.

Too far away and with a bustling park between them, there was no way Chester could hear.

What he could do was look down.

Where a joyful, albeit tired looking counterpart animatedly responded.

Chester's lips parted.

The second person then looked down before offering something up.

A small bundle whose lavender blanket wriggled to reveal another, much, much smaller green mutant.

Donatello took the baby and brought the child up to his face to coo something.

The older mutant's eyes gleamed.

Chester knew that look.

The one that topped eye bags as deep as canyons.

It was one he once sported.

It was the one his son-in-law now wore.

It was the look of a new father.

The way they looked at their own.

Donatello had a partner.

Donatello had a child.

"What's wrong, pop-pop?" Jade's voice broke in, thunderous amongst the many others.

Chester looked down and felt the tears streaking his cheeks.

He only gave a bright smile and continued to hold his hand out.

Jade took it and continued to stare up at him. "Are you hungry? Vi cries when she's hungry. Let's get you some lunch!"

Chester nodded and moved to leave the park with Jade in tow. "That sounds wonderful."

[wakeupandchooseviolets]

"Do you... enjoy this?"

Shit.

I need to deflect, but when I open my mouth, all that comes out is a low moan. I feel so... massive. I can barely think.

"The first time, I was just worried about you. The second time... I just thought it was a weird coincidence. But now," she gestures at all of me with both hands. It's a big gesture. "Three times feels like more than coincidence."

She's not wrong. I've got to say something.

"I've known other people who've gotten blown up, you know? And after they get... you know, fixed, they've- they've all developed phobias, or left town, or gone through really intense therapy. But you," she says, placing a palm on my exposed belly, "have been completely unfazed. You just keep coming back for more."

My skin feels electric where she touches me. Everything is so full and tight, every little brush of breeze against my exposed skin is searing pleasure. I moan again, and she whips her hand away like she'd laid it on a hot stove.

"Sorry! I know I shouldn't be so casual about this. I should really call someone to come help you." She starts patting her pockets looking for her phone. "Sorry," she says again, then she stops. She looks back up at me.

"Should I even call for help? I should, right?"

Is that even a question?

"But what if you just do this again?"

Ouch. I've been lax, I guess, but I haven't been doing this on purpose! I mean... I have thought about it, but... it hasn't been intentional.

I think.

"It just takes up my time. The medical crew's time. Company resources." She looks conflicted. "Maybe I should just leave you like this."

Oh.

I try to plead my case, deny it, but all that comes out is a halfhearted "Nnnnnnnnnn-" before she cuts me off again. I'm just too full to speak.

"I could have you transferred to taste-testing," she muses. "Putting up with weird shit is, like, their whole job description." She starts dialing on her phone. Someone answers promptly.

"Hey, you'll never guess what happened again. Yeah, again again. Third time. Yup, big enough to roll, for sure."

She absentmindedly pats my belly with her free hand, like I'm some sort of bad boy you could fit so many things in. It's thrilling, that small touch. I nearly lose it, right then and there. Thankfully though, she remembers I'm a person just in time to give me an apologetic look before clearing her throat and returning to her call.

"Can you see if R&D has any openings for a QA Consultant? I know, right? All my ideas are good ideas. She's clearly more interested in being a giant balloon full of wasted product than an accountant."

I guess she's not wrong.

"No, no need for a trip to the squeezer. Put a note in her file that she's only to be reduced if she asks for it explicitly. Maybe have them bring a safe-suit, too. Hm?"

She looks me up and down. It's a long, curious look.

"No idea what size. Big. Really, really big. Yeah. One of the ones with the belt. Mhm. Yeah, she's not exactly naked, but... yeah, let's not give HR anything to complain about. Right. Yes, I'll follow up with her landlord and emergency contacts as needed. Yup. Thanks. See ya."

She turns back to me. She takes another long look, and then sighs.

"Congratulations on your promotion," she says, with a weird mixture of sincerity and irony. "We'll obviously miss you in Finance, but we're happy that you'll be rolling onward to bigger opportunities."

Oh good, she's got jokes.

"Sorry, sorry, I shouldn't make fun. Company policy is to treat this as a medical emergency, so I'll be staying with you until help arrives."

She checks her phone again.

"If you want, I can come visit you once you get settled in? I know I've always been happy to see friendly faces amidst all the strangeness of a new job."

She looks up at me again, sadly this time.

"I was looking forward to getting to know you better, you know? I noticed how you started dressing differently after your first... incident. HR would probably have something to say about how much I was... noticing. I thought maybe you were trying to get away from the trauma by being more poised and put-together."

She kicks her heels off and slides down the wall until she's sitting, obscured by the curve of my body.

"Oh well. Probably better for everyone that I didn't start hitting on a coworker."

Wait.

"Especially not one who keeps finding excuses to swell up until she's spherical," she adds, wearily.

Fair.

"I really should have seen this coming, shouldn't I? I mean, you've been touring the factory floor on your lunch break weekly. That's on me, I guess."

She hops back to her feet. "I think I hear the Medical folks." She brushes her skirt out, and looks me in the eyes one last time. "Hey, listen... I'll see you a-round."

She smiles and rolls her eyes at her own terrible pun, and walks away.

[watercolor-hearts]

Prompt: A little thing in which Charles is noticing that Carlos is a bit down (maybe because he was sick today/yesterday and didn't seem like himself) so he did everything in his power to either make him smile or laugh? Or maybe just took care of him after FP2? Showing up at his hotel room to get him to eat something nutritious like a chicken soup he got *especially* for him, with blankets and the idea to spend the night alongside him in case he gets another fever and doesn't wake up feeling shitty *and* alone? 💕 That would be incredibly soft and cute 🥺

Hi dear, I'm really sorry for the incredibly long wait. For some reason I wanted to include the appendicitis in the story but it didn't work so I rewrote it, following the second idea you sent to me. I hope you like it. Also, thank you for sending me these prompts. 😊❤

Carlos/Charles • 1058 words • hurt/comfort • cuddling & snuggling • hugs • spoon feeding • Ao3 link

-

It was already dark outside when Charles arrived back at the hotel after the second free practice with a bag of delicious takeover food in his hand. He wanted to check on Carlos and bring him some food because he couldn’t really eat anything in the last 24 hours. 

Charles hoped Carlos would feel better now because he didn’t look well at the track, his skin was all red and his mood wasn’t good either. All Charles wanted to do was tuck him in the bed, cover him with the softest blanket, and let him sleep, hoping it would make his fever and stomach bug go away. Fortunately, Carlos had left earlier to go back to the hotel and rest so Charles didn’t have to worry about him that much. He knew Pierluigi was there with him and he was safe.

But he still wanted to check on him to make sure he was okay. After putting down his stuff in his room and picking up his blanket, he went to Carlos’ room.

After knocking, he went in and put the bag with the soup on the little table next to the wall and walked closer to Carlos who was lying in the bed completely still. Maybe he’s sleeping, Charles thought as he put his blanket on the other side of the bed in case Carlos was cold and needed another one.

Charles turned on the lamp on the bedside table and crouched down next to the bed, slowly pulling the blanket off Carlos’ face. “Carlos,” he whispered, hoping he wouldn’t scare him.

“Mhm?” Carlos mumbled, slowly opening his eyes, trying to get used to the light.

“How are you feeling?” Charles asked, gently putting his hand on Charlos’ forehead to check his temperature. His skin wasn’t as warm as it was back at the track, which Charles noted as a sign of him getting better. “I’ve brought you some chicken soup. Sadly it’s not from Maman but they say it’s still good. You should try and eat some.”

Carlos sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. “I’m too tired.”

“I can feed you with the spoon,” Charles offered without hesitation, “you just have to sit up. I’m sure you’re hungry. You haven’t eaten anything today, mon amour,” Charles ran his fingers through Carlos’ hair to brush it off his forehead, “You have to eat to have energy. Your body needs nutrition.”

“If I eat, will you stay for the night?” Carlos asked, looking at Charles with his big brown eyes nobody could say no to. “I know we said no sleeping together on race weekends but-”

“I will,” Charles answered immediately, not letting Carlos finish the sentence. “You were sick today and you’re still not completely fine. I’d never leave you alone for the night when you’re not okay. No matter what we agreed on earlier. I’ll stay here, I promise.”

A soft smile appeared on Carlos’ face as he reached out to cup Charles’ face. “Te amo mucho. Bring the soup, cariño.”

Charles kissed Carlos’ palm and then got up to switch from the bedside lamp to the big light on the ceiling and get the soup. In the meantime Carlos sat up, leaning against the headboard, closing his eyes for a moment because he felt a bit dizzy. Charles set up the bed tray table and placed the bowl of soup on it. 

“Are you okay?” Charles asked, his hand resting on Carlos’ hand, observing his boyfriend’s change of facial expressions closely. 

“Yeah, just a bit dizzy. But I think it’s because I haven’t eaten anything.”

“Okay,” Charles nodded, trying not to overthink, “Would you like me to help?” he asked while putting the spoon into the soup to stir it. Carlos hesitated. Charles could see him debating whether to accept the help or try and eat it alone like a grown-up man.

“I think-”

“It’s okay to accept help, mon amour. It’s just you and I here.”

Carlos nodded, “Then… I’d like you to help. I feel too tired to lift my hand.”

“Okay,” Charles smiled and lifted the bowl off the tray to bring it closer to Carlos’ mouth and feed him more easily without having to worry about spilling the soup on the bed. “Here comes the first airplane,” Charles joked playfully, making Carlos smile before he opened his mouth. “What do you think, is it delicious?”

“Tastes good,” Carlos said, waiting for the second spoonful of soup. “I like it.”

“I’m glad. Here’s some more…”

• • •

After eating the soup, showering, and washing their teeth, it was now time to go to bed. While Carlos was still in the bathroom, Charles made sure the bed would be comfortable for him, arranging the pillows and the covers in the perfect position. Right when he finished it, Carlos appeared in the room with a soft smile on his face.

“It won’t look this good once we’re in it,” he said, taking a few slow steps towards Charles to give him a ‘thank you’ kiss. 

“I wanted to make sure it’s comfortable for you.”

“It is if you’re here.”

“Come here,” Charles sat on the edge of the bed, asking Carlos to sit on his lap, and once he did it, he hugged him and kissed his neck, feeling Carlos’ elevated pulse thumping on his lips. “You’re still a bit warm,” he murmured, resting his head on Carlos’ shoulder for a moment, breathing in his calming scent. 

Carlos leaned on Charles’ shoulder, letting out a shaky breath. He was tired from having to stand in the shower. “I still don’t feel completely well but I’m getting there. I’ll be okay for tomorrow.”

“I think we should lie down and sleep,” Charles said, receiving a tired “yeah” from Carlos as a response.

A few moments later they were lying in the bed, almost complete darkness surrounding them while they were trying to find the most comfortable position. In the end, they settled with spooning, Carlos being the little spoon and Charles being the big one with his chest pressed to Carlos’ back, one of his hands draped over him, Carlos holding it to his chest. He felt safe in Charles’ arms, the slow and steady breathing of his boyfriend on his back helped him to drift off and sleep through the night without any problems.

[diodellet]

say what you mean (jamil viper x gn!reader)

being gifted with wit sadly means that the banter comes with a small dose of overthinking (or: where your chattiness goes past its extended welcome in the bedroom and jamil puts a stop to it) content warnings: -assume that everything is negotiated and consensual in this fic -more suggestive things and tension than actual action ++established relationship banter, hints at a reversible dynamic between reader and jamil, all that fun physical tension and badly-hidden neediness word count: 724 words minors do not interact

Jamil considered using his unique magic on you, for about… five seconds.

He was supposed to be in control at the moment, yet even while you were pinned underneath him, you could still muster a cheeky grin with swollen lips. Your hands rested on his hips, fingers teasing at the waistband of his shorts. The insistent heat from your palms was one that he would have gladly basked in. 

Until you decided to speak up.

“So? What next?”

A sigh left his lips, partly fond, mostly exasperated. “You could stand to be a bit more patient, you know.” His hands met yours, interlacing your fingers together.

“Ah, but I can’t stand any more waiting.” You feigned a whine, your groin lightly canting against his. "Come on, get on with it already…”

If he let go of your hands to cup your cheeks, he was sure that the skin would also be warm, thoroughly heated from embarrassment despite your rebuttals.

“Patience,” he repeats. “Besides, isn’t foreplay your favorite part?” 

Case in point, when taking the reins, you had an equal penchant for teasing him with your words and your hands until frustration won out over his self-control.

“Between five hours of foreplay and feeling too sore to sit tomorrow morning, I’ll take the latter, thanks.” You shifted underneath him, another impatient nudge against his own arousal.

There wasn’t any malice in your exchange, rather, it was a song and dance the both of you partook in. Behind light-hearted quips and teasing remarks, you hid an almost-inhuman libido. He noticed that levity and charm were a sort of defense that kept you from being fully vulnerable during these moments with him.

Luckily for you, Jamil preferred to take his time taking apart these weak defenses of yours. With the right words whispered in a low voice against your ear, by giving you a knowing glance with half-lidded eyes, without even touching you, he could wipe that mischievous expression off your face. He could render you speechless, pliant—no, that was too passive. Too similar to when you were under the effects of Snake Whisper.

“‘Too sore to sit,’ you say? I can arrange for that.” And he pinned your arms above your head, pressing them against the mattress.

“O-oh, you’re okay with that, uh, I was actually joking, I wasn’t serious—”

“I heard you loud and clear.” Jamil shifted his grip to hold both of your wrists with one hand, giving you a warning squeeze when you try to wiggle out of his grasp.

At that sensation, a weak plaintive noise escaped your throat. The helpless sound made his cock twitch.

“Wait, wait, Jamil, wait, I wasn’t…really…”

“Hm? What was that?” 

Your gaze turned to the side, the only kind of movement you could muster from the position you were in. Jamil only caught the tail-end of what you were mumbling. 

“Do you mind repeating that?”

“...I said.” You drew in a short breath before meeting his eyes. “Are you sure about… this? With me?”

What.

“Are you seriously worrying about that right now?” 

“I-I don’t know, it was a spur of the moment thing, I was just—I was probably saying things before I could process it, maybe, I don’t know…”

Your rambling was going to kill his mood at this point. He pushed up the hem of your pullover to bare your chest. “Enough of that. Open your mouth.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything bad by it, really! It’s just tha—mmph!” The thick fabric hushed the rest of the words spilling from you. 

A pleased hum left Jamil’s throat. His free hand caressed the curve of your cheek, the skin alight with warmth. “There, isn’t that much better?”

Now silenced, you could only nod. You could have spat out the makeshift gag if you wanted to, but since you didn’t that meant you still held an inkling of trust for Jamil.

“Just let me take care of this, alright?” His touch moved down to your torso, fingertips resting against your sternum.

Desperation was a better look on you. A fitting expression as the reins of control returned to him. To hear you and to have you aching for him to bring you to release… Now, that was a really pleasant thought.

And he didn’t even have to use magic at all.

half-inspired by this kawoshin art i saw and my brain spitballed the rest of it. thanks @jessamine-rose for gracing this draft with fresh eyes, i feel so much calmer knowing someone else is also being KO'd by pretty guy since it's that time of year, i'm gonna be posting a bunch of smut with my next uploads. and guess who wanted to be the first ferson to be written about 🙄🙄 (and to think i have at least 2 more?? smut drafts with jamil?? seriously he's never letting me go i hate it here /j) a bunch of them are more written out than just half-baked outlines so... YEH hopefully ill have smth to post during october!! tagging my fellow jamilnatics heehoo: @viperwhispered @kaechannn @mochimiyaas @anxiously-sidequesting @twstgo

[tavvattales]

This is revenge for making me think about Pierro. May I request Pierro and Childe (seperate) with an S/O that has frequent migranes or headaches? I have them chronically, and sometimes they're so terrible that the only sources of light I can stand are candles. I can often be found hidden in my room with some quiet, calm music or ambience sounds and a single candle burning when dealing with them. Feel free to take your time or add any other characters you feel would be fun~ Hehehehe. Have Fun~

GENSHIN IMPACT Character x GN!Reader Headcanons

Characters: Pierro, Childe, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Capitano(all separate)

Pairings: Pierro x GN!Reader, Childe x GN!Reader, Dottore x GN!Reader, Scaramouche x GN!Reader, Pantalone x GN!Reader, Capitano x GN!Reader(all romantic)

Taglist: @stygianoir @kurobakachan @hikomisan @silverwritesthings @minty-stays-tired @genshinparty

If you like what you read, come and check out my Discord!

Click below for more~

Pierro

The pounding in your head wouldn't go away, and clutching your head, you sighed roughly, catching the attention of your lover, Pierro. Looking up from his work he frowns at your apparent state of anguish, "My Rose, are you alright?" Pierro asks, raising an eyebrow toward you as he gets up from his desk to make his way to where you were sitting.

Crouching down, Pierro gently touches your forehead with the back of his hand. Thankfully for him, you weren't burning up and he sighed in relief, "Another one of your headaches?" Pierro asks and you nod slowly, gritting your teeth.

"I'll put some tea on and dim the lights; please take a rest, Y/N, and I'll take care of everything else, okay?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Childe

You begin rubbing your temples, hoping your headache would soon pass. Trying to get more comfortable you close your eyes and lay down. Unbeknownst to you, Childe had been eyeing you this whole time and he quickly starts to dim the lights.

Once done, he takes a clean rag and using his vision soaks it with cold water. Making his way toward you, he sits on the opposite side of the couch, offering you the cold rag, "Another headache, Angel?" Childe asks with worry and you nod weakly.

"I'll stay right here then, in case you need me to get you something~ Don't worry, I'll take good care of you."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Il Dottore

The pounding in your head only grew in intensity as you let out an audible groan, wanting to bang your head against the desk you were sitting at. Taking notice of this, Dottore, with skilled art prepares you a cup of tea, setting it down in front of you with a warm smile. Looking down at it, you smile weakly, mumbling a thank you.

"Tsk, tsk...my poor sweet Dove. Another headache? That's the third time this week..." Dottore says sadly, grasping your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze, wanting nothing more than to take your pain away. Nodding to him slowly you look up, greeting the soft glow of his crimson eyes, squeezing his hand back.

"Don't you fret, Y/N, this Doctor will take good care of you, rest assured."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Scaramouche

"Another headache, huh?" Scaramouche asks with a whisper, trying not to irritate your headache any further, and you nod. The pounding rattled your brain, and you felt like it would explode. You start making gentle circles around your temple before Scaramouche stops you, and you look inquisitively at him.

"Here, let me..." he says, leaning you back so your head rests upon his lap. With a gentle touch, he starts massaging your scalp and you close your eyes, groaning softly from his soft therapeutic touch.

"I'll keep doing this for however long you need, Y/N."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Pantalone

Pantalone is quick to notice your changed demeanor, and he frowns, walking toward you, "Headache?" he inquires, and you nod your head in response, clutching both sides of your head, "I'll dim the lights right away; Love," he says, making his rounds through his office, dimming the lights in the process.

As he finishes up, he leans you down, so your head rests on his lap, "I shall hum to you," Pantalone states, clearing his throat softly before a beautiful soft melody escapes his lips and closing your eyes you finally feel some seblance of comfort.

"Y/N, rest, Darling, I'm not going anywhere."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Il Capitano

Pushing your temples in with your fingers, you grind your teeth in pain. The slow pulsating of your headache is excruciating and all you want is for it to go away. Seeing your anguished facial expression Capitano tilts his head off to the side, "Y/N, my Dove...another headache?" he asks quietly, voice filled with concern for you and you merely nod.

Taking long, precise strides toward you, Capitano plops himself down on the couch next to you, pulling you into a warm embrace, "I got you, my Love...shall I sing softly to you?" he asks sweetly. You look up at him with tear-stained eyes, nodding as you nuzzle into his chest, listening to the gentle rhythm of his voice and the cadence of his heartbeat. Soon enough, your headache starts to dim, and you let out a sigh of relief.

"I shall always be here when you need me, even if you do not."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

[remusslove]

Our slut ~james potter

Includes: genderfluid!reader, girl!futa, sub!James, dom!reader,threesum, dom!remus, degrading!kink, choking!kink (if you squint), slapping!kink, and aftercare

A/n: This was a request but I sadly can’t find the person who did request it :( but I really did enjoy making this</3

“Hey doll face” you said smirking as James walked towards you with an innocent smile. “Hi mommy hi remy” James said sitting on your lap with dazed eyes.

“You having fun hm?” You asked chuckling making James giggle and nod.

“Feeling funny” James giggled before laying down resting his head on your lap.

“Looks like you need to get some sleep” you said before adjusting his head allowing you to stand up from the couch.

“Nooooo wanna have fun with you and remyyy” James whined. “I know sweetheart but your way too drunk for your own good now come on” you said picking him up from the couch.

“Remy can you come too?” James asked him softly. Remus sighed nodding and taking a last sip of his whiskey. He stood up following you both up the large stair case.

A minute later you all were in yours and James’s room as James sighed contently feeling the soft blankets layed out on your guys’s bed.

“Cuddle with me you guysss” he whined before letting out a loud giggle.

“You heard him remus. Let’s cuddle” you said emphasizing the cuddle part. Remus smirked and you did too before you both laid on the bed.

You both slowly began to kiss his neck leaving many hickies causing James to gasp softly and whimper.

You chuckled unbottoning James’s autumn colored sweater. “Y-you guys I-I” James stuttered before letting out a small moan as you nipped his sweet spot beneath his jawline.

“What was that bunny?” “Use your words.”

“P-please.” James begged. “Please what babe?” You teased. “Touch me.”

Those were the only words you and Remus needed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“F-fuck!” James moaned at your fast pace.”you wanted this bunny.” You said grabbing his hips and pulling out.

You put it in a different angle reaching deeper causing him to see stars. You hit his prostate with each thrust making him feel euphoria as he felt his brain getting foggy.

Remus groaned at the vibrations of James’s moans on his dick. Remus gripped his hair and rapidly thrusted into James’s mouth.

James gagged at Remus’s actions taking deep breaths through this nose.

“Fucking slut” you said landing a harsh smack on his ass. Remus moaned feeling James’s every sound bounce onto his cock.

“Such a fucking whore with all that dick I’m your mouth.” Remus degraded. “Just a stupid whore remy” James tried to say between Remus’s dick while looking up to the much taller boy.

James looked beautiful. His fuck me eyes filled up with tears as new tears streamed down his face, his ass jiggling because of how hard you were fucking him, and his tongue licking Remus’s length up and down like a fucking porn star waiting for Remus’s cum to shoot down his throat.

Remus smirked taking his dick out of James’s mouth letting James take a deep breath.“Come on love focus” you said grabbing a handful of his curls slapping him in the face as Remus pumped his cock feeling his high slowly coming.

James whined as your free hand sneaked to his throat choking him harshly. You groaned

“C-can’t! S-slow d-down!” James begged you though the look on his face encouraged you to continue.

“Tell me what to do again and your not cuming for a fucking month. I’m I your bitch or are you mine hm?” When he didn’t answer you landed another harsh smack to his face. “Fuxking answer me James” you said panting feeling your high coming as well.

“I-I’m your s-stupid bitch!” James yelled trying to bounce back on your dick.

“Fucking right you are. Go back to sucking Remus’s dick. I don’t remember telling you to stop you dumb slut” you said before landing a smack against his ass much harder than before.

James moaned trying to focus on sucking Remus off as you fucked his brains out. “Fucking shit I’m gonna cum” Remus moaned out as James warm lips wrapped around his cock once again.

James stopped sucking releasing Remus’s dick with a pop. James bobbed his head up and down Remus’s dick halfway jerking off the part that couldn’t fit in his mouth. That sent Remus to the edge making him let out a loud groan.

James swallowed most of Remus’s cum before releasing his cock once again allowing ropes of cum to shoot on his face.

You groaned throwing your head back at the scene. “C-can I c-come please!” James begged you. “Fine.” You said simply.

Three more thrusts sent you and James over the edge. You groaned thrusting one more time making all of your cum shoot inside his ass. “Y/n!” He screamed your name feeling his orgasm wash over him.

You grunted riding out your high as James collapsed on Remus making him chuckle. You let out a chuckle as well peppering kisses on the smallest boys face.

You slid on your boxers before going into the bathroom to get a washcloth. “You did so good for us love” Remus praised James.

You hummed in agreement walking toward them with a soft white washcloth.

“Sit up baby” you told James. He whined in dislike but sat up nonetheless. “wanna sleep” he said as you wiped the dried cum of his cheek.

“Go to sleep then princess” you said putting the cloth aside as you climbed into bed with him and Remus.

“Such a pretty boy” you praised causing him to giggle.

[fandomshatepeopleofcolor]

I don't how right are accusations or these accusations actually did happen, however Michael Fassbender(guy who played Magneto in Xmen Remake films) had serious charges against him made by his ex girlfriend. And she is black. Which is kinda frustrating because even if they might be wrong, people jump to defame her.

Sighsss...

Sadly, there are articles stretching back to 2016 covering this. Here's the 2016 one:

And here's another one from 2018:

It's utterly frustrating to me as well. How Fassbender's domestic abuse allegations can pop up every few years and he still keeps getting away with it. How major news outlets don't cover abuse cases when victims are women of colour esp Black women with the same fervor they would for when the victims are White women (I suspect it's becos most major news organization in America and Britain are majority White). The best thing we can do about this is to keep raising awareness on it.

- mod sodapop

[shivering-isles-cryptid]

Forgive Me Father | Dean Winchester x Slutty Reader x Sam Winchester

Summary: While looking for clues on their newest case, Sam and Dean pose as priests to get into the house that seems to be at the center of the occurrences. While there they encounter a man who has an... Interest... In Dean. Lord have mercy on his soul.

Request: Yes / No

Warnings: talk of religions, talk of death, groping, sexual jokes, language, sexual actions, implied sex, slut shaming

Dean adjusted the collar he was wearing as he and Sam walked up to the house. The town of h/t has had reports of strange occurances, bugs appearing from no where, people having heart attacks despite being healthy as a horse, it only raining at one house, or everywhere but one house. All the reports seem to surround this house the most, so they came to investigate. The word is that the old woman who lived here died recently, and she was strict Christian. So the brothers were here to offer their condolences and blessings.

Sam knocked on the door, Dean forgetting his bible in the car. The man who opened the door was just about the same height as Sam, staring at him with e/c eyes that just radiated electricity, his s/c skin was glowing in the sunlight, and the wind ruffled through his hair as he stepped outside the house, making him look magical. "Hmm, another one. Listen, thank you for your condolences but... Good Lord." The man bit his lip when Dean walked up to the door, holding his Bible in hand. "Forgive me father for I have sinned." He muttered, looking Dean up and down. "Yes, hi, were here about the death of M/n l/n." Sam said, trying to get the man's attention back, but his eyes wete glued on Dean. "Yeah, uh uh, come inside so we can talk." He looked away from Dean long enough to open the door and walk inside. When they went in, the man leaned against the door and fanned his face while looking at Deans butt. "Can I get your jackets, Fathers?" He asked, holding his hands up. Sam shook his head and smiled, but Dean shrugged his off and handed it to him, revealing that he was wearing a short sleeve button up, the sleeves were tight aroumd his shoulder and the man bit his lip even harder. "Are you a priest or a stripper, either way I'll give you $50 to flex those arms." He said, placing the jacket on a hook rack without looking away. "Y/n! These are men of God! You can't just throw yourself at them like a heathen whore!" A woman yelled, hitting him with a washcloth. She was only a few inches shorter than y/n, but looked just like him, but more feminine in some places. "Excuse him, he can't tell the difference between a confession booth and a glory hole. I'm s/n, please sit." She said, rolling her eyes and guiding the brothers to the living room. "She's exaggerating." Y/n said, sitting on the arm of the couch, right next to Dean. "So, Fathers, what can we do for you?" S/n asked, sitting in a chair and smacking y/n's arm. "We had some questions about the recent death in your home. We've heard rumors of some strange things happening." Sam said, leaning forward, Dean to distracted by Y/n squeezing his arms. "I don't doubt it. It started 3 years ago, when our older brother died. It hit the family very hard, y/n more than any of us. Thats when he turned from the good light of God and started opening his legs for a quarter of a nickel." S/n smacked y/n again, causing him to snatch his hand away from Deans chest. "Oh come on! I'm not a prostitute! I do it for free." Y/n purred the last part, holding eye contact with Dean. "So, you were saying?" Sam asked s/n, smacking Deans knee when he started to squeeze y/n's thigh. "Yes, it started about a month after b/n's death. It started small, things going missing. His favorite hoodie, his favorite spice from the cabinet. Then it got worse. Candles lighting themselves, cicadas and flies just appearing from no where. Then there was the hail incident." Both y/n and s/n shivered when she mentioned it. "Mother thought the house was haunted, so she had an exorcism done, but it didn't help." S/n shook her head sadly. "I swear to you fathers, thats why she died. The thing, the demon, thats in this house killed her for trying to get rid of it." Sam nodded and squeezed her hand, smacking Deans knee and standing up. "Well, our condolences for your mother, and know our prayers are with you." S/n closed her eyes and nodded, squeezing Sam's hand. The 4 of them walked to the door, Dean handing Y/n a note before grabbing his jacket and leaving. Before they left, they heard S/n yelling at y/n about how he has no shame and knows no boundaries.

Dean laid on his bed, staring at the motels ceiling, his mind wandering to Y/n. Would he come, or was he just toying with Dean because he was there? He began to rub his chest while thinking about him, then he heard three light knocks on the door. Dean looked over at Sam, who was knocked out cold, then got up and unlocked the door. Y/n stood there in sweat pants and a flannel shirt that had 4 buttons undone. "Hello father." Y/n smirked, staring at Dean, who was only wearing very tight boxer briefs which didn't hide anything, especially not his very excited friend. "So i was right and this wasn't just you trying to get me to shun my sinful ways." Y/n smirked, unbuttoning the rest of his flannel and wrapping his arms around Deans neck. Dean stepped back, closing the door and pointing to a sleepimg Sam, who was wearing the same amount of clothes as Dean. "Wow, if I'd known he looked like that underneath, I would have flirted with both of you." Y/n whistled at him,.but Dean squeezed his ass, cutting him off and inciting a moan. "I don't think he swings that way, though I'm not sure." Dean said and pulled you over to the bathroom. "Lets do it in the shower so he doesn't wake up. I don't want my brother seeing me balls deep inside you." Dean growled into y/n's ear, and he could feel the shiver goimg down his spine. Dean turned the shower on and dropped his briefs and turned to y/n, who was drooling. "Forgive me father for I have sinned. Oh sorry, I guess i should say, Sorry daddy, I've been a bad boy." Y/n purred and stripped too, pouncing on Dean.

The next morning, Sam woke up to find the lump in Deans bedd bigger than usual. When he sat up and looked over, he saw both his brother and the flirty boy from yesterday completely naked and spooning. Sam squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head while exclaiming in disgust. He could have gone his entire life without seeing Dean's dick and he would be all the happier for it. Y/n wasn't too bad though, he wouldn't mind having a go with him.

Sam got out of bed, walking into the bathroom, not even bothering to close the door fully out of habit as he stripped down for his shower. When his boxers touched the floor, he heard a wolf whistle from behind him. Y/n was leaning against the door frame with a smirk on his face. "Morning father. I see god has blessed you with many, many, many gifts. And some very big gifts too." Y/n had his eyes planted of Sam's cock and licked his lips. Instead of covering up like his instincts told him to do, he walked over to y/n, grabbed him by tge wrist an pulled him in, shutti g and locking the door. "I guess you do swing for my team, well, make sure to put your bat to good use." Yn whispered in Sam's ear, causing the younger Winchester to growl a little before dragging him into the shower.

When Dean wole up, y/n wasn't in his bed. Makes sense, he probably wanted to be home before his sister realized he was gone and would start shaming him for his... Hobby. Dean got off the bed and knocked on the bathroom door. "Hey Sammy, you almost done?" Dean heard shuffling and muffled sounds, then the door opened a crack, but instead of Sammy, it was y/n covered in water, panting, and Dean could tell he was bent over and being plowed into. "Just a few more minutes, Daddy Dean." Y/n breathed out and closed the door. Guess Sammy did swing that way.

When Sam and y/n were done, y/n just walked out of the bathroom still naked. "If either of you are in the area again, be sure to hit me up. I'd love to go for a ride on you guys again." Y/n winked at them both as he pulled his pants on and lazily threw his flannel on, not bothering to button it before leaving the room.

[sword-of-injustice]

! DreamRadar is now active. Transcript below.

The child slowly awakens...or rather, he does not. Still within a dream, not that he realizes. The environment is unfamiliar to him. A dimly-lit room, seemingly made of stone and marble, covered in deep blue fabrics all around. Similarly blue stained-glass windows are on the walls, but they let only the smallest trickle of moonlight in. To the fore is an entry staircase leading up to his position, but it simply extends onwards into oblivion, with no door to be found. There are no exits on either side, but the room is lavishly decorated in blue, blue, and more blue.

And behind himself...he doesn't know. He cannot move. His wrists and ankles have been shackled to a chair...a very elaborate, ornate chair, like one a ruler would sit upon. A throne that he cannot escape.

Above his head, mere inches from the top of his skull, hangs a long iron blade, positioned as if to pierce through his entire body, suspended there by a single horse's hair.

Realizing his predicament, he squirms and struggles against the chains, but they prove too strong for even his strength to break. Eventually he tires himself out...just long enough for a voice to call to him.

"Hmm...You aren't supposed to be here."

Sword gasps, focusing on the person before him. A young man, with long white hair tied into a ponytail that contrasts his tan skin, dressed in a fancy suit in the same blue as everything around. His golden yellow eyes feel as if they're piercing through whatever semblance of a soul Sword has.

"That's okay. I'm not supposed to be here either."

The child's eyes narrow at the stranger. "...look familiar. ...identify."

He deeply bows, a white-gloved hand to his chest. "Welcome to the Velvet Room. This place exists between dream and reality, mind and matter. And I shall be thy Adam."

"...don't understand." He struggles once more against his bindings. "...prisoner?"

"A prisoner, yes, but not to me. A prisoner to yourself, to your own psyche...to those that once oppressed you. You carry their burden still."

Sword sadly looks down at his lap, feeling powerless.

"The form of this place reflects the heart of its owner - in this case, you. What do you see, here?"

Sword looks around once more. "...throne room?"

"Indeed. Do you see yourself as a person of power?"

"...don't wanna be. not anymore."

"And yet here you are, bound to your throne, with the cruel hand of noblesse oblige hanging over your head. A pitiable fate."

"mmm..."

"...Do you seek freedom, child?"

He looks up once again, firmly nodding his head.

"Good. The path will open to you...but it falls to you to take it. I will guide you in this."

"...understood."

Adam reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a deck of cards.

"Are you familiar with the tarot, young one?"

"...nuh-uh."

"The Arcana, as they say, are the means by which all is revealed. The cards represent your fate. Who you are, and who you will grow to be. ...Shall I draw, and give you some insight?"

"...okay."

"Excellent. We will draw from the 22 Major Arcana, then..."

Adam shuffles the deck of cards thoroughly, before taking the topmost card and holding it out to reveal.

"...Very interesting."

"...zero?"

"This card is known as The Fool. It represents one who is at the beginning of the hero's journey - one who knows little, but stands to gain everything. One with limitless potential. The wildcard. Fitting, for a veritable tabula rasa like yourself."

"mmm...just...like copying."

"Indeed. And in that same sense, the wildcard gains strength from its bonds. ...But you know that already, don't you?"

Sword looks down at his left hand. Between his fingers is another card. The Moon. He gives it a quizzical gaze.

"Forge more bonds. Strengthen them. From those bonds, you will gain strength, and understanding. You will free yourself from your bindings, and become whole."

"...understood."

A bell faintly echoes from the unseen outside of the building.

"The dawn comes. Our time grows short. More will be revealed in due time. Rest now, child."

As if against his will, Sword's eyes close again, and he drifts back to sleep...

[psychedelic-ink]

— wonderful tonight.

pairing: frankie morales x fem!reader x dave york

genre: romance, smut, fluff

word count: 2.4k

summary: It's your birthday and Dave's running late, Frankie tries his best to distract you.

warnings: established poly relationship, oral (receiving) , mostly soft, mild daddy kink, nipple play, chaotic cooking

a/n: this is an early birthday gift to one of my favorite people @foli-vora happy birthday love! <33 I hope you enjoy this little thing I wrote for you and thank you for all the amazing stories you put out. Sending you all the love and hugs 💖💖

also this was inspired by your post that's right here ✨

Your gaze lifts to the clock on the wall. The ticking of it makes you grind your teeth and prick at your skin. You’d begged Frankie to throw it out the day he bought it but he was set on keeping a regular clock above the wall just in case technology just decided to fail one day. It was a silly thought, but sadly he insisted, saying that the ticking of it made him feel nostalgic for a simpler time. There was no arguing with that so you just let it be. 

But now, as Frankie sauteed the onion, garlic and oregano for your birthday dinner, you can’t help but feel a tad disappointed. Dave’s late. Again. Probably held up due to boring paperwork that they made him file. Supposedly, their gift to you was supposed to be a day spent together. And just like you couldn’t argue about the damn clock, there was no arguing with Dave, no matter how much you begged him to stay. 

Another sigh parts from your lips, Frankie’s shoulders rise at the sound, his shirt dipping between his shoulder blades. After stirring one last time, he adds the tomato paste, the sizzle of it filling the open kitchen. 

“He’ll be here,” he emphasizes. “And he did say he would be free tomorrow, so we’ll be spending the entire day together,” 

“I guess…” 

“Cariño,” he murmurs, a hint of mischief laced in his tone. “If you continue pouting like that I’m going to think you would rather have him then me,” 

“What–No!” panic fills your voice as you stand up to your feet. “That’s not what I meant, I just…we never get much of a chance to spend time with just the three of us. I would be acting just as much of a brat if he was here an you weren’t,” 

He hums, hand reaching out for the shrimp stock. Steam rises as soon as liquid hits the saucepan, the gentle smoke dancing up and dissipating right after. Your stomach growls at the scent, mouth watering, you absolutely love it when Frankie’s in front of the stove. He is the best cook out of all three of you. 

“That’s good to hear. You don’t need to worry about being a brat though, I kinda like it,” 

His back is turned, but you can swear you see him grinning like an idiot. Your heart flutters, not being able to control your wide smile, you snake your hands around his thick waist, hands settling above his soft stomach as you peer from his side to see the saucepan. He’s firm against you, the smell of the food inhabits your nostrils but despite it, his scent reaches you. Sandalwood, with a hint of mint. It’s in the background yet it feels like a hug, it feels like home. 

“What were you making again?” you murmur into his shoulder, sneakily inhaling more of him. 

“Shrimp chupe. I think you’re going to like it but it’s been a while since I last made it so I’m a bit rusty,” 

“Well, if it fails, you know how to make it up to me,” 

“Do I, now?” 

“Don’t you?” 

“I think I might have an idea,” 

Much to your surprise, Frankie turns the heat to medium low and pulls his phone out of his pocket. His thumb lazily slides down the phone with an equally lazy smirk. You smile despite your disappointment gnawing at your heart, maybe he really didn’t have an idea what you were hinting at. And here you thought you were being crystal clear about your intentions– 

Suddenly the kitchen fills with the soft tunes of an acoustic guitar, soon accompanied by the rich baritone of Eric Clampton’s voice. Frankie places the phone on the counter and turns to you, his one hand extending forward. Staring at him awkwardly, your gaze shifts between his hand and eyes, they glint with amusement. 

“Dance with me?” 

“H-Here?” 

Frankie chuckles, his eyebrows drawn together, he softly takes your hand and pulls you flush against his chest. Every nerve of your body is electrified at the warmth he provides, your eyes are glued to the exposed skin of his neck, a sudden feeling of embarrassment clinging to you like a bad rash. Despite nearly doing almost everything with these two men, soft gestures like this still make your knees quiver. The music envelopes the both of you, Frankie’s hands softly finding your waist as he starts to gently sway from side to side. You follow his movements carefully, albeit a bit clumsily. It’s been a while. 

With the song in the background, you press the side of your face into his chest. Frankie’s lips find the top of your head, molding soft kisses into your scalp. A beautiful orange hue fills the kitchen, alerting you both that the sun was setting, the day slowly coming to a close. But in that moment you feel frozen in time. The only thing moving forward being yours and Frankie’s hips. His strong hands slide down your waist and grab your ass, your chuckle breaks the silence. You tear your face away from him, your eyes meeting his in a heated gaze. 

“Frankie Morales,” you feign a tone of offense. “And here I thought we were having a moment of romance,” 

“We are, mi vida,” he mutters, pupils dilated. A gasp falls from your lips when he squeezes, heart dropping as arousal gathers between your legs. “See how gentle my fingers are, this is romance,” 

“Hmm, we might be watching different types of romantic movies,” 

“I should show you my collection sometime,” 

“You should,” 

Frankie closes the distance, while his lips melt into yours, he pulls your body even closer, if possible, fingers digging into your flesh. Just like your bodies, your tongues dance with each other, slowly tasting, exploring. Your pulse accelerates, ears ringing loudly with every fast beating of your heart. His mouth slides down to your neck, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses across your burning skin. 

“I want you to lay down,” he whispers into your flesh, tongue tasting the salt of your skin. “Will you do that for me?” 

Without a nod or a word of affirmation, you lay down on your back. The kitchen tiles cool against your sizzling body. Frankie quickly towers over you, his fingers dipping under the waistband of your pants and tugging them down. His hand reaches between your legs, fingers feeling the wetness that’s gathered across the fabric of your underwear. His lips twist into a sly smile, clearly pleased by himself. The cheeky bastard. 

“Been thinking about this?” 

“Maybe…” 

He hums, licking his lips, “I should reward you for your honesty, such a good girl for me,”

The drop of his voice makes you keen, his fingers presses further into you, the heel of his palm ghosting over your clit. Your legs spread without prompt, hips raising ever so slightly off of the marble. 

Goosebumps rouse across your skin when he finally removes the final barrier of cloth between the two of you, his lips immediately chasing the taste of your heat. Frankie’s mouth smoothes over your folds, tongue dipping playfully between them. Back arching, you reach out and tug him closer, his damp curls wetting between your fingers. Slick rushes between your legs, your mind in a daze, he flattens his tongue and laps at everything you have to offer. His mouth is moving along your cunt in the slowest way possible, coaxing a series of moans from you. Warmth blossoms across your skin and the song fades into the background. Frankie’s mouth always felt good, but now, it feels like it might just as well cause you a heart attack. He drags the tip of his tongue to your clit, flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves and groaning at the way your hips roll into his mouth. 

Neither of you hear the silent footsteps of a tired, yet intrigued, man approaching, both of you lost in eachother’s bodies. 

“And here I thought you two would miss me,” 

You flinch at the voice of Dave, a hint of amusement weaved into his every word. Frankie draws a circle around your clit, you hope to be quiet but you can’t help the way your breath hitches, a combination of Frankie’s and Dave’s name parting from your lips. 

Frankie’s gaze flickers up to Dave, slightly annoyed. 

“Why do you think I have her laying on the floor like this?” he asks with no intention of receiving an answer. Then he adds, mouth filled with the essence of you. “You really need to get you schedule under control,” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. No need to remind me,” 

Dave quickly sits down near you and pulls your head on to his lap. A whine escapes you when his thumb ghosts over your bottom lip, pressing into it gently. Frankie steers his attention back to your heat, sucking and slurping with his own groan accompanying the sounds, two fingers circle around your entrance. 

“Sorry I’m late, baby,” Dave mutters, slowly pushing his thumb between your lips. Wide eyed, you tentatively lick the tip. “Has Frankie been taking good care of you?” 

Just as you nod, your body jolts with a heavy wave of pleasure washing over you. The back of your head digs into Dave’s lap, eyes shut tightly, you cry out. Frankie’s fingers spread you wide, knuckle deep, as his tongue continues to work your clit. Dave pulls back his thumb and smears the wetness of it across your lips, his chest trembles with a soft laughter. 

“I think that’s a yes,” 

Frankie groans, eyes flickering up to him once again. His lips curl with a smug smile. Dave hums, his gaze moving back to you with an apologetic, yet lustful, look. 

“Can I join the fun?” 

Unlike Frankie, Dave was usually eager with his touches, his neediness seeping into his every movement. But today, today he also moves slow. He apologizes with his hands, fingers, mouth. Your neck strained as he forces your face up, claiming your lips in an upside down kiss while his hands travel down your body and lifts your shirt up. A growl emits from his chest upon seeing that you weren’t wearing a bra. He cups both of them, fingers pinching hard enough to send a shrill sense of pleasure down your spine. Meanwhile Frankie’s tongue worked wonders, his fingers thrusting in and out of your sopping core. Eyes rolling back, you moan openly into Dave’s mouth, cunt clenching at the way he grins down at you. 

“Is daddy making you feel good, princess?” 

Between heavy lashes and a tearful gaze, you nod. You’re burning from the inside out, Dave’s hands are merciless, playing with you like an expert musician. He knows all the strings to pull to bring you dangerously close to the edge. Rolling your nips between his fingers, he groans in delight at the way you squirm, your hips raising to meet the thrust of Frankie’s fingers. You can feel the ghost of Dave’s cock pressing against your upper back, just the thought of it makes your thighs clench around Frankie’s head. 

“I-I wanna–” 

“You want what baby?” Dave purrs. “You gotta tell us, isn’t that right Frankie?” 

Frankie parts from you momentarily, enough to breathe out a sentence conveying nothing other than great annoyance. 

“Deja ser un idiota con ella,” 

Dave shoots a glare, “Seems like I’m going to need to patch things up with daddy number two later,” then he turns down to you, his glare shifting into a gaze full of adoration. “Do you want to cum darling? Is that what you want?” 

“P-Please,” you plead, eyes traveling down. Frankie is already looking up to you, his eyes soft like honey. Your breath hitches. “Frankie,” 

He winks at you and you can swear in that moment, your soul left your body. His mouth opens wider, tongue pressing against your clit enthusiastically as his fingers move with precision. Your stomach contorts with pleasure, breathing uneven and fast. Desperation rises inside of you and you reach out to Dave, pulling him down for a bruising kiss. It’s been a while since the song was over, only wet sounds fill the kitchen now, stirring you even further. 

Spikes of arousal tingle up your spine, it builds and builds, Dave licks the inside of your mouth, Frankie licks between your aching folds with his fingers buried inside of you. Your whole world is spinning, nothing but your desire to cum screaming at you– 

Then everything shatters. 

You pull away, gasping for air as your body jerks uncontrollably. The corners of your vision blur, tears filling them thanks to the sensory overload. Frankie digs his fingers deeper, tongue swirling around the throbbing bud of nerves. Dave’s lush lips find your temple, shushing into your sweat coated skin. Heaving, you claw at Dave’s back, hips desperately trying to pull away from Frankie’s devilish tongue. He allows you after giving your clit one last, parting suck. 

“Fuck, mi corazon, that was amazing,” he pants heavily and slides up your body, laying his head between your breasts. “How are you?” 

Dave’s fingers playfully start to tweak at Frankie’s damp curls, nails gently scratching his nape. He purrs at the other man’s touch, a tired smile spreading across his lips. The gesture’s contagious, the sight of them being so domestic with one another has you grinning like a fool, heart swelling twice as big. 

“That was amazing,” 

“So…no one’s mad at me then?” 

You laugh, the melody of your joy echoing between them. 

“I didn’t say that, you are awfully late,” 

“Sorry,” he mutters, pressing his lips into the back of your head. “I couldn’t get rid of it but I’m here now, so happy birthday,” 

“Happy birthday,” Frankie chimes in as well, nuzzling your breast. 

There's a moment of serenity between the three of you, you smile as the endorphins of pleasure swirl around your mind, a pleasurable tingle vibrating across your skin. However, this doesn’t last long when Frankie suddenly jumps up, running to the stove. 

“Shit– I forgot the chupe!” 

“The what?” Dave asks, quite alert after seeing Frankie bolt.  

You giggle, taking Dave’s arms, you wrap them around you like a blanket. He tears his gaze away from the chaos in the kitchen and hugs you tighter, you call out to Frankie.

“Well, at least you know how to make it up to me.” 

[astralfuchs]

Given how “unique” a Miku concert would be I’m surprised Crypton themselves didn’t send some team members or equipment personally to make sure things are set up right bc other than some performers that might hide their face/wear disguises idk how many usual concert locations have something prepped for “holo” projections compared to Japan and their Vtuber boom (although I’d rather buy a plushie from a booth but hopefully at least the theatres would have good sound quality)

Sucks for any workers scrambling and getting hate/hope it doesn’t affect the sales of any other indie ppl performing their concerts

The weird thing is it worked before. I went to miku Expo 2018 in cologne and 2020 in Berlin. Both times it was an actual hologram concert with the same band as magical Mirai. Neither of these two locations had a concert like this before, I'm pretty sure. All of the equipment must've been toured around with thew Miku Expo crew. Going against advertising and expectations (basically all of these concerts, and like all of them in recent years were holographic) without notifying buyers beforehand and also not even afterwards when people keep asking is, to put it lightly, customer unfriendly at best and a scam at worst.

I arrived a bit late in 2018 since I only had standard so I don't know how it was there, but in 2020 people went around giving out free stickers and badges, or general stuff they got from other miku events. One of them seemed to be a huge meiko fan so when she gifted me something I gave her the meiko badge I got from the random gacha button bags. Stuff like that really made it feel like a community coming together, so reading that giving out badges, stickers, etc. wasn't allowed this year, even for people who specifically got an okay from cfm and also got their stuff stolen from is surreal.

I had vip in 2020 and as far as I know everyone got their vip merchandise, which doesn't seem to be the case this year, which makes no sense because you would know how many people at this location have the vip ticket. Another thing I read is that vip ticket holders were supposed to be let in earlier for merchandise and the concert hall but it didn't happen, which also worked flawlessly before in my experience.

Merchandise being not enough for everyone is sadly not new, I was in line for it in 2018 and when I was three people away the store people shouted they were all sold out, which was very much a bummer but I thankfully bought the penlight and t-shirt beforehand in the online store so it wasn't too bad for me and as I said I was quite late to the so definitely in the latter half of the people that got in. Still should've been more but I would chalk it up to being the first concert in Europe and them not having expected such a huge crowd maybe. How this is still the case 6 years later and in America where there were concerts way before 2018 is beyond me.

I don't know if this is because of crunchyroll (it probably is tho) but I can't say cfm is innocent either since they partnered with them and it's their job to ensure everything is up to standard, which clearly didn't happen.

For me, I was really happy to hear there was going to be a Europe one again, especially since I really loved it, it is such a magical experience so the last year's being online only made me super sad since it isn't the same in the slightest, but seeing it's also partnered with crunchyroll I decided against it. It's because I loved it so much that it really saddens me to see what is currently going on (also probably why I wrote so much, very sorry). Miku Expo is one of the best, magical and insane events you can go to as a vocaloid/piaproloid fan and I wish for all fans, people who've been in the Fandom longer and already have been to Miku Expo, and newer fans that didn't have the chance yet, to have that same experience but this is not it. This being someone's first miku expo experience is just a sad thing to think about considering what a massive downgrade the experience is. I hope there will be official statements soon and that the people who are currently experiencing it still have a good time.

[loveshearsmith]

Evenings with Ross Gaines - drabble

feeling bored and just wanted to write something short. feel free to leave requests xo

[pairing - ross gaines x reader]

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I had been dating Ross for a few months now, having met in the small town of Royston Vasey. He loved his job and would usually work long hours, but he had been significantly busier the past couple of weeks, working on a case of an insufferable woman whom I learned was called 'Pauline'. Too often he would arrive home in the late evening, his dinner going cold, with me sat half-asleep waiting for him on the couch. The most worrying part would be when he'd show up with bruises and dried blood all over him, having faced beatings and attacks from the dreaded 40-something-year-old. I couldn't count the times I'd sat with him on the bathroom floor, wiping and wrapping his wounds, and comforting him as he would rant and tell me about his awful day.

So as I stood in the kitchen beginning to prepare our evening meal, my heart almost dropped as I heard the front door open and his voice call out "hey, I'm home."

I turned and faced him as he walked in, a confused smile on my face. "You're early?" He hummed in agreement against my lips as he pressed a quick peck to them. "Yeah, well..." He sighed as he grabbed two wine glasses and opened the fridge to retrieve some alcohol. "I hate these late nights. I missed you." He handed me a glass with a small smile before we both took a sip. "I've been missing you, too. Your book has barely been touched." I laughed gently, gesturing towards the two books on the coffee table.

Most evenings before Ross met Pauline, we would come home from work and cuddle up together on the couch to read our books in a comfortable silence. It was one of our favourite activities. But recently I'd been left to read alone, and my book was almost finished, where Ross had only managed to turn a few pages. I watched as he glanced at the books and smiled sadly. "What's wrong?" I asked, worried he'd sustained more injuries. "Are you hurt?"

"No" he chuckled, putting his glass down and walking towards me, extending his arms. I let him wrap me up in his warm embrace, breathing in his scent as I hugged him back. "I just missed you" he mumbled into my hair, slightly rocking me from side to side. I laughed against him, "Yeah, you already said that."

He pulled back and pressed another kiss to my lips, "I'm gonna have a quick shower... wanna join me?" He smirked. I rolled my eyes and denied the offer, much to his dismay.

When he was showering, I finished making dinner and laid the table, before changing into my pyjamas. He walked out in his robe, his hair all flat and stuck to his forehead. It was my favourite look on him, and he knew it. Over dinner we spoke about our days and made plans for the weekend, and just had a much-needed catch up. After clearing up, we moved to the couch and put on a DVD, wrapping ourselves up under a blanket. My head laid on his chest as his fingers played with the ends of my hair, making it almost impossible to keep my eyes open.

He noticed my sleepiness. He notices everything. "You wanna go to bed?" He whispered down at me half-way through the movie, but I shook my head, not wanting to waste any of the short time that we had together. I grabbed his hand and fiddled with his fingers, tracing over every line, mark, and scar, before raising his finger tips to my lips to lightly kiss each of them. I felt his eyes watching me intently.

"I don't want you to go to work tomorrow" I whispered, sadness lacing my voice.

"Well it's a good job that I already booked the day off, then" I turned to look at him, only to find him grinning down at me.

"Are you serious?"

He just nodded, still smiling. "I couldn't go off to work knowing you were at home alone on your day off. I need a break." He sighed contently, pulling me closer to him.

"Well, what will we do?" I asked, leaning my face close to his.

"I can think of something" he barely whispered, allowing his lips to collide against mine.