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#apologies for not writing this out earlier
hurthermore · 3 days
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hii!! ur writing has a choke hold on me!!🤯anyways, im so deprived of some comfort rn- could you maybe do something related to aftercare? For ex: Alastor comfort after a bit of degradation was taken too personally from reader :> (maybe some comfort while bandaging them up too idk)
Literally obsessed w ur shit ur like my fav hh writer, and ty for reading :3
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Of course!<3 and TYSM!! That’s so sweet<3 warnings for sexual content, fluff? (Idk what fluff is apparently from my death one shot)
Your Alastor had always liked indulging in a bit of rough and degrading play; but this time he had went to far.
He had crossed one of your boundaries he hadn’t been aware of, calling you a degrading name you weren’t okay with; and as soon as that word left his mouth, you had become stiff.
Alastor had noticed immediately.
Stilling inside you, halting all movements, Alastor could only look in your eyes as he searched for consent within, searched for anything in your expression that still said you wanted him to continue; but he could not find it.
“Is everything quite alright, darling?” His tone harshly contrasted the nasty and rough demeanour he had with you only moments ago; now giving you a loving and soft voice as he checked in on you.
Looking to the side, you avoided his gaze as the word he used on you still pang through your chest. “Don’t call me that ever again.” You had spoken more harshly than intended, with a sharp snap in your tone, verbally indicating your distressed mood.
Immediately, Alastor had pulled himself out of you, only to wrap his arms around your torso, pressing his face in the snuff of your neck as he registered you were referring the to not so pleasant name he had called you as he fucked himself inside of you. “I’m sorry, darling.” He had meant it; truly. The dousing of guilt that consumed him as you emotionally pulled away from him had him panicking ever so slightly. “It won’t happen again.”
Sighing, you knew he had meant his apology, and despite how much the word he used had hurt you, you knew he had no ill intentions when using it; he merely indulged in a bit of degradation that you also found sexually arousing.
Placing a hand against the back of his hair, you tilted your face back to his. “It’s okay love; just please don’t say that again.” You had whispered ever so softly in his hair, only to feel him shiver from your breath cascading down his neck.
“Would you like to stop?” He had mumbled against your skin, asking for your consent to continue the sexual encounter.
“Yes…”
You weren’t in the mood anymore; and as soon as your deny for consent left your lips, Alastor clicked his fingers against one another. On command, the room you both inhabited slowly changed, warping from the confines of your shared room to a familiar one filled with items of pampering; a room Alastor only brought you to after he had made love to you or fucked you.
He had always been a gentleman to you, despite his preference to be less than gentleman-like whenever he pummelled himself into your walls, he always put your pleasure and your needs before his own.
It was something you were grateful for; and one of the many reasons you loved him.
Wrapping your arms around his neck, Alastor began hoisting you up, guiding your legs to link around his naked waist as he carried you to the large, hot bath imbedded in the floor; a bath which mimicked one of a hot tub in size.
Stepping inside, his hooves clicked against the metal alloyed bathing area as the two of you began to submerge within the hot water; it’s temperature relaxing all of your muscles as it began to douse your body.
Alastor had slowly settled you down in the bath, only to take a seat beside you as he held you close, his hands stroking parts of your body as he continued to comfort you.
You believed you would fall asleep if this were to proceed.
“I am truly sorry, my love.” He had spoken with such honesty and vulnerability as he held you, apologising to you yet again, despite doing so earlier.
“It’s okay, Al.” You only responded with a soft sigh as you leaned yourself against him.
“You know I don’t mean those things during our rougher sessions, don’t you, my darling?” He had asked ever so softly and gently, attempting to approach the subject in a calm manner, one that would be proefficient in cheering you up; his beloved.
You had only mumbled a yes, nodding your head as Alastors lips began pressing themselves against your neck. “I know, love. It’s just- that word.”
“It won’t be used again,” He quickly interrupted you. “My perfect little darling, I swear it.” He said between the pecks of romantic kisses he placed against your neck.
The smile that enriched your face wasn’t missed by your lover as you allowed him to pamper you, to echo sweet words of love and loyalties into you skin, to kiss sweet gestures of love along your body.
You were blessed to have such an evil man be your darling sweetheart.
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frmisnow · 1 day
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✧˖ ?!— MEMORIES W. BF! JUNGKOOK
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—🐟 ‧₊˚ — : " you are so mean !! "
summary. just a collection of fluffy (& suggestive) moments that could've been a whole fic... but didn't become one!
notes. *insert tiktok audio: did you miss us? cause we missed you* i've been wanting to write quite often since me taking a break but the weeks have been TOUGH- regardless i did rly miss all of you ;( hope you enjoy this lil bf! bf! bf! jungkook drabble headcanon-ish thing (?) as a makeup gift for me being gone!!! ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
warnings/includes. the most teeth-rotting boyfriend kook there is rly, two very very in love individuals!!, suggestive (making out & hickeys mentioned), drunk
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✧˖ #001. A WISH 4 TATS & ALCOHOL = A MESS.
"this is a horrible idea," you mumbeled as you both stumbeled into another darkly light street, "i got this," jungkook hummed, carefully examining the road to the nearest tattoo shop google maps suggested on his phone.... which was upside down.
"jung- that's not right," shaking your head, turning his phone around, his mouth opening and closing again, "oh"
"you're so smart!" he squeezed your cheeks together, creating one big large pout, placing a quick peek right after which of course turned into the both of you manically making out, leaning back onto the graffiti-filled dirty street wall, the taste of alcohol blatantly evident.
whenever a person would walk by, jungkook would momentarily stop (still holding your face) but turning around and mouthing a quick 'sorry', doing a big ass bow to highlight his apologies- the person would just walk continue walking faster to get out of this alley (and the both of you)
you'd give him a tiny slap on the head murmuring something about him being stupid which he'd dramatically pout about (and probably kiss you to prove you 'wrong' which was just an non-sensical excuse really).
safe to say you woke up the next days with two super cheesy tattoos grazing both of your thighs and a whole lotta hickeys!
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✧˖ #002. MAKE IT LIKE UR BIRTHDAY EVERYDAY!
work was shit literally. the days were tough to the point where the only thing you were looking forward to at the end of the day was seeing jungkook.
ever since your work has been loading you with more & more labour, you could tell he always tried to show up earlier than you, it was in his best efforts to greet the exhausted you, open the door with the widest smile and instantly tightly hug you.
today was no different- at least you thought, in fact it turned out that you completly forgot about your own birthday, leading to you being even more surprised when you walked in directly to an even more wider-smiling jungkook then the usual, holding about five pink ballons.
a rather... messy cake delicately placed on the desk, light-up candles grazing the very very colorful dessert, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!" he yelled out, the large grin never making it's way off his face.
"you're so old," he babbeled jokingly, the second he saw your watery eyes immediately embracing you, mumbling something about 'i didn't mean the old-thing anyway' which made you smile again.
so the night ended with the both of you eating the surpisingly well-turned-out cake together as he listened to you rant about how shitty your boss and work place was, nodding along and grinning at some of your comments.
something in his gaze was so loving and always attentive- certaintly this was one of the best birthdays you had.
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✧˖ #003. YOU ARE SO MEAN!
"one more beer and i might just say you are developing an alcohol addiction," you perclaimed, taking the glass out of jungkooks hands (that were dramatically holding on for dear life) with a little bit of force, in response getting a loud noise of dissapproval from his direction.
he rested his head on the desk, eyes still open, examining you carefully, "don't say that!"
"oh i will," you bopped his nose sarcastically, your tone more sassy than serious, taking a sip of the beer that you now declared yours.
jungkooks face disappeared into his arms as fast as it was visable in the first place, a whiny mumble being heared through the hair that was in your view: "you're so mean"
you could firmly hear the pout in his voice which made you smile when you responded: "and you are very tired, let's get you to sleep"
leaving the beer on the kitchen table, you used your whole power to lift the grown man of the chair (who was now just as desperately like before fighting back), whines and tiny groans being heard through out the kitchen as you lead him to the bathroom.
"i didn't mean the mean thing by the way," he muttered almost inaudibly while brushing his teeth slowly, "no, i know" you ruffeled through his hair, wrapping your arm around his waist, the both of you looking into the mirror at the same time, the reflection making you both giggle.
"i'm never drinking with you again!"
"you don't mean that"
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sugojosgf · 3 days
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flaky toji 🗣️🗣️🗣️
angst + smut + hurt no comfort
it's right after an argument, so he fucks you like he hates you. words of apology lost in air because both of you knew it would just go back to whatever it was before.
he'll bet against a losing horse again, you'll accidentally call megumi your son, both of you turn a blind eye to the future because any apology is better than bitter silence.
he has you on all fours, his hand wrapping your hair as he pulls you back with such force, you begin to see stars behind your eyes. "fuck! take it-" he groans, when he pounds into you, balls slapping against your skin.
"tooo-toji, can't!!" you whimper out, unable to take any more. your arms weak, from his continuous thrusts, give out and you fall on the bed, face mushed against your pillows.
the air is so dizzy with the smell of sweat and skin with both of your moans bouncing off the walls. you can feel him pulsing inside you, pain and pleasure dancing together.
you start to sob because of how good it feels, tears ruining the makeup you had done earlier. streaks of mascara ran down your soft cheeks and your lipstick smeared all over your lips. your tongue lolls out and your eyes cross and you can't breathe anymore.
"toj,,,,a little slower please- please my love." you whisper with the last shred of willpower left and something changes.
he hadn't been called that in years, and the last time he was called someone's love...
toji stops and pulls out, his cock covered in your juices. he holds your hips, right at your love handles and softly enters you again.
it's different the way he fucks, no makes love to you. it's soft caresses and gentle kisses on your shoulder, slow fulfilling thrusts that don't hurt you with the sudden stretch. it feels like he almost loves you this way. almost.
he makes you arch and revels in your beauty, the tasteful nature of your dip. his calloused hands travel down to your clit and he plays with it, writes his initial on it.
"you are so pretty f'me." he mutters when you come on his cock. even when you whine that it's too much, he doesn't stop.
"i'm almost there-" he groans, "you are so beautiful mama, only for me." as he fills you up. sticky cum dripping out of you even as he keeps you plugged.
and then he tells you how much he loves you,,,
but was it really for you when he's calling you by another woman's name? the same one that the son you consider your own, calls at night when he can't sleep? the one that's actually married to him on paper?
"toji?" you turn to look at him, ears ringing when you hear her name. "i'm not her."
"huh?-" his eyes widen. he sees your face flushed, and eyes glossed with tears threatening to spill. your pretty lips held between your teeth as you try not to sob. he sees the way you look at him, but he also sees that you are not what he wants to look at.
"fuck."
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betweenbreaths · 2 days
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doctor's orders (WIP)
Fandom: Love and Deepspace
Characters: Zayne x Reader
Summary: Zayne is surprisingly obedient as a patient when it’s your turn to play doctor. 
Rating: E (M for this snippet though)
A/N: Posting this WIP first because I think it'll take me a while to write the full thing. :")
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He’s terribly late. 
It’s almost midnight now, almost 12 hours past the time he was supposed to have you over at his place for lunch and a home movie date. He had already prepared everything perfectly, from the food, to the table setting, to the extra blankets on the couch (only because you liked to snuggle). And then you had arrived right on time, and everything was going perfectly.
That is, until his work phone rang and he received an alert that one of his patients had to undergo surgery immediately. 
You hadn’t looked fazed when he filled you in on the situation; after all, it was hardly the first time he had been whisked away from a date for unexpected work emergencies. You had told him before that you didn’t mind; saving lives came first and you’d have done the same if you were notified of wanderers in the area.
So he’d left promptly, promising to be back as soon as he could.
And now, twelve hours later, he has finally returned to the front door of his apartment, with a bouquet of flowers he’d picked up along the way as an apology. Zayne had texted you earlier to ask if you had already left, and you’d said that you would stay and wait for him, and that there was no hurry. 
He sees your shoes still neatly placed outside, and yet another pang of guilt hits him. He just hopes you’re not too upset. He’ll have to make it up to you somehow. 
As Zayne opens the door and steps in, he calls your name. 
Silence. No response. 
That… must be a bad sign. Either that, or you fell asleep somewhere. Certainly not in the living room, because there’s no trace of you other than the crumpled blankets and the remote control tossed to the corner of the couch. 
He shrugs off his coat, leaving it on one of the chairs by the dining table and peers around, wondering where you’d gone. Instinctively he heads straight towards his bedroom — you might be taking a nap there.
He knocks lightly on the closed door before opening it carefully, slowly, in case he wakes you. Then he hears you call his name. The tone in your voice isn’t one of anger or disappointment. 
In fact, it’s the opposite. You sound… mischievous, playful. Even a little naughty. 
Almost like you’d planned something completely unexpected for him, and you’d been waiting for him to come in, like a predator waiting for prey to fall into its trap. 
And when he steps in, Zayne all but forgets to breathe.
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Leaving you alone in his apartment for twelve hours had left you with plenty of time to devise a surprise for your boyfriend. Your spark of inspiration came when you decided you’d do the poor man a favour and sort out his laundry for him since he can’t even afford the time to eat the lunch he’d so painstakingly prepared for that afternoon. 
And when you came across the freshly washed spare doctor’s coat in the pile of clean clothes, you were immediately drawn to it like a moth to a flame. You ran your fingers over the thick, wrinkled fabric, a smile playing on your lips when you think about how far he’s come in his career.
And when you put it on, the scent of detergent and warmth enveloping you, an idea so brilliant, so devious, popped into your head. 
After all, you’d already come over to his home already prepared with a new set of black lacy lingerie for him to tear off of you, and this coat would go perfectly with it. 
The look on Zayne’s face when he steps into his bedroom and his eyes fall on you is absolutely delightful. You see a myriad of emotions flicker in his eyes: confusion, surprise, bewilderment…
And then his gaze becomes hungry. Sinful. Heat pools in your centre as his gaze falls on your body, examining every single inch of you. You can already tell from his dilated pupils that in his mind, he’s ravaging you, kissing you senseless and tasting every drop of you, and god you can already anticipate how rough he’s going to be with you when you let him have his way. 
But first, you’re going to have some fun with this.
Zayne approaches the bed, each footstep almost echoing in your ears and mirroring your accelerating heartbeat and you prop yourself up on your elbows, clicking your tongue and shaking your head at the man. 
“You’re late for your appointment, Zayne. I’m almost off my shift now.” 
“I apologise. I was held up at work because of an emergency.” 
“I wish you would prioritise your health the way you do with your work.” 
Your lips curl into a knowing smile, and so does his, although his smile looks a little more defeated. 
“Using my words against me now?” 
“Maybe. But I don’t have time for small talk. I’m supposed to have a date with my boyfriend and he’s waiting for me at home, so let’s make this quick.” 
Zayne cocks an eyebrow but says nothing as you sit up and tap the empty spot next to you on the bed. 
“Lie down. We need to do a routine examination.” 
Surprisingly, Zayne does as he’s told without protest. You feel the bed dip with his weight when he sits down, and you swallow nervously when he stares at you up close, eyes darting down towards your lips and raking down your figure. His gaze is smouldering and you feel your cheeks warm as the corner of his lips turn up. 
“Like what you see?” you can’t resist the urge to ask. 
“It would be more appropriate to ask your boyfriend that, Doctor.” 
Right, right. 
You clear your throat, trying to get back into the roleplay. With Zayne now lying comfortably on the bed, you scooch over, placing your hand over his chest. 
“Checking for my pulse? Where’s your stethoscope?” 
You roll your eyes at him. “I don’t need one to know that your heart is racing right now. Do you feel uncomfortable? Any chest pains?” 
“Yes, it does hurt a little.” 
“Where?” You experimentally press on his left pec. “Here?” You shift your hand downward slightly. “Or here?” 
“No.” Zayne grabs your wrist then, and without warning, pulls you down with a hard tug. You lose your balance, falling straight towards him and you barely manage to stop yourself from giving him a headbutt when your left hand plants itself into the mattress right by his face. 
In this position, you’re now mere inches away from his lips, and his piercing gaze doesn’t leave your eyes as he re-positions your right hand on his chest. 
“Here.” You feel his strong heartbeat beneath your fingers, and the warmth of his breath fanning across your face. Just a little closer and you’ll be able to taste his lips and lose yourself in his passionate, fiery kisses. 
He’s clearly thinking the same thing as you, eyes falling to your parted lips. He sucks in a sharp breath when your tongue wets your lips — a habit of yours when you’re nervous. And then you feel his free hand come up to rest on the nape of your neck to pull you in, closer and closer to him. 
It’d be so tempting to just give up now, to let him have his way with you and to get that quality time and intimacy you’ve been craving all day now. In fact, you’ve been waiting a whole week for this, because lately Zayne has been too busy and today was the only day you could squeeze in a precious date with him. 
But that’s also the reason why you want to enjoy this to the fullest. After all, it’s not often that Zayne is so indulgent with you in bed. 
At the last second, you regain your senses and place your right hand over his mouth, putting an unceremonious halt to his attempt to kiss you. His lips graze the surface of your palm and that’s enough to make goosebumps rise on your arms. 
“If your chest hurts, let’s take a closer look, shall we? I’ll need you to take your shirt off.”
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your-nanas-house · 2 days
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Hi Nana!! I hope you're okay ✨
I hope you don't mind but I have another kitten request ! Hear me out: Kittens your roommate and you accidentally walk in on her naked but she's not shy so she's like "you can touch me if you want?" Giving you the puppy dog eyes and she's also like "since you've seen mine, show me yours!" And while having actually fucking she admits that's she's wanted you for awhile! So smutty and fluffy! Please please please! I'm begging🥺🥺🥺🥺
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Hey dear!! Sorry that it took me so longgg. I love this idea 😭 and no prob, you can always send a request! Even more than one, I don't mind at all. 🥰
Oops... I did it again.
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◇ Pairing: Kitten Braden X fem!Reader
◇ Warnings: smut, handjob, Kitten's little 'pussy', fluff, roommates, swearing
◇ Summary: Y/n finds her roommate naked waiting for her... again.
◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Shitty writing 🙇🏼‍♀️
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"Kitten—" Y/n called out while entering the apartment to find her roommate, her hand grabbing the handle to open the door and walk in, ready to find the woman sitting on her bed or in front of her makeup table— and not naked with a magazine in her hand.
It was the second time that she had walked on her like that, the first had happened weeks earlier but luckily the young woman managed to close quickly the bathroom door and leave before apologizing for an either week.
They didn't talked about that "incident" but during a roommate night of theirs, the brunette woman mentioned suggestively something about being... comfortable without clothes, loving to just wander around her home with no care or fabric covering her stunning self. Sadly, Y/n was too drunk to understand the flirty tone and the meaning behind that simple statement to actually react at it like Patricia hoped.
"Oh hi, sweetheart. You're bit late, thought you would be back nearly an hour ago" Kitten's sweet provocative tone said to break the silence that the view of her bare body had created, hiding her amusement when she glanced towards the front door catching the funny expression of the young woman.
Her jaw had slightly dropped and her eyes wide in surprise, astonished by the confidence that her roommate was emanating by talking to her so casually as if she wasn’t naked and vulnerable in front of her.
"Y-Yeah... my parents kept me longer than expected" Y/n's voice came out weaker than intended, her eyes staring only at the beautiful woman's face... focused to not wander lower, although it was definitely difficult to not glance down at her smooth freckled thighs or at her alluring movements of her groomed hands
"Aw, that's cute. Can't wait to meet your family someday" Kitten beamed out while getting up from her sitting position, now showing off her god's given gift which was her body as if she was posing just for her; almost as if to barter— the vision of her body in exchange of her submission and devotion.
There really was no shame, it was quite arousing to see. Enough to make Y/n's heart beat faster, drumming in her chest, and her breath to get caught in her throat while she clenched casually her thighs together in an attempt to find some friction as her pussy got wetter.
Fucking hell... Kitten and her damn antics.
"Why do you look so shy, darling?... You can touch if you want" she offered while moving closer, her narrow and sexy hips swaying hypnotically till she came to a stop in front of her.
Her light blue eyes checked Y/n slowly out as her groomed hands moved sensually to allow her slender fingers to brush the skin of her arms, down to her wrists to take a good hold of it and help her roommate take things further by placing her hands on her waist... letting go to rest her own on her shoulders.
As Y/n looked up to meet her gaze, she could tell that Kitten had it all planned, her little naughty smile was sharing her true intentions and expectations while her small touches where doing the little work that needed to be done to break her definitely.
"You're unbelievable" the young woman commented as her thumbs caressed the soft freckled skin, pulling her body closer to her own "Truly unbelievable, Kitten" her voice added lowly as she brushed her nose against her jawline, feeling the woman's curly hair tickle her face as her scent enveloped her.
That damn... beautiful, arousing woman.
A tiny purr escaped Kitten, her breath was getting heavier at the feeling of her hands wandering around her naked body, resting on her ass to knead the flesh while her mouth worked on the tender skin of her neck
"O-Ohh... just like that" Patricia soft voice whined out, her hips buckling forward unconsciously in an attempt to find some friction for her leaking cock.
Her tip was already off an angry red, sticky due to her fluids and her balls heavy, in need of touch "Please, pretty please, Y/n baby" her plead escaped her glossy lips, asking for more while leaving wet kisses on her shoulders and every spot of bare skin she could reach.
It was quite amusing to watch, in fact Y/n's mocking face cracked to leave space to a smile, enjoying Kitten's needy self, as her eyes kept taking her whole in while her right hand brushed her stomach to reach her cock... the little 'pussy' of hers.
"Look at your pretty pussy, dripping for me, right Kitty?" Her voice hummed as her fingers caressed her lenght, grabbing it at the base before starting to stroke using her spit as a lube.
The evening light that entered from the window that faced the silent street, made Kitten look just divine, causing her pale skin glow tenderly and Y/n's stomach react with butterflies.
"Yes, that's it, honey" the young woman cooed, increasing the speed while hearing Kitten's pornographic like moans, her expression changing due to the pleasure
"Want me to go faster? Make you cum" she cooed softly again at the woman's reaction, allowing her to bury her face more into her neck while her hips kept meeting her strokes. Soft moans and pleads kept escaping from her soft lips which were pressed right against her skin, feeling her pulsing heart with them.
A couple of more strokes and Kitten shoot her load, dirtying her roommate's hand and clothes; making amends immediately with a low sensual moan that sent shivers down Y/n's spine.
"Woah, darling" the woman's voice murmured, her confident self coming back to surface "It's not your first time for sure, hm... Why don't you remove your clothes as well. I mean it's only fair, right? You saw me like mommy made me" her soft voice persuaded Y/n teasingly, making her strip in front of her and meet her baby blue eyes again.
She could tell that Kitten was loving what she had in front of her, her groomed hands twitching slightly as she held back from touching
"Why do you look so shy, darling?... You can touch if you want" Y/n stated using her previous comment against her, keeping a little smirk on her amused face as her heart kept beating like crazy, shame and nervousness eating her as she stayed still and bare acting confident as best she could.
"You aren't that shy like you want me to believe, hm? Your little pussy is getting soaked again just by seeing me like this, right.. baby?" The young woman mocked, pulling Kitten's face closer to meet her soft lips with hers; the sweet taste of her lip gloss lingering on her tongue as soon as she granted her permission.
Patricia's hands reached for Y/n's naked hips when their kiss got more passionate, their heart was beating fast and almost in sync as their lips met in little pecks when they slowly laid down.
"Wanted this for so long—" Patricia's soft but sensual voice revealed to her roommate as her hands pushed Y/n's body down to take control since her 'pussy' was throbbing, her pre-cum smeared all over the young woman's stomach.
Kitten was about to spread her roommate's legs and position herself at her entrance when she suddenly fall forward due to the grip of her, who wrapped her arm around her lower back to nudge her legs apart, carefully to not hurt Patricia.
Both with spread legs so that their genitals were touching together.
"Grind that pretty pussy on me, honey" the sentence made the woman shiver and move her hips that matched hers. Her balls soaked by Y/n's juices as her 'pussy' kept rubbing against her soft skin wetting it more with pre-cum.
As Patricia's light blue eyes met Y/n's, her cheek flushed a darker pink and her mouth opened slightly to let sinful moans escape her. She had waited so long for that moment, for the occasion to cause that sensual expression on her friend's face, cause the blush and messed up hair, as well as the sexy moans and praises directed at her.
It was sinful, a sensual but sweet dance that got dirtier as soon as they both reached their peak.
"Gosh" Kitten breathed out with a chuckle, her curly hair tickling Y/n's skin while she rested on her chest to catch her breath and get cuddled, feel loved.
Their both were coming down from their climax, enjoying each other's warmth as they gathered the strength to get up and clean
"Best roommate ever, hm?" Y/n hummed, earning a positive answer followed by a chuckle from the curly woman.
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wexhappyxfew · 1 day
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24. whispering in their ear, lips touching the skin
For Annie and Brady please!!! I adore them and your writing!
HI ANON!!!! thank you so much for stopping by the askbox!! greatly appreciated, especially when it is annie and brady!! :) these two have my heart and deserve all the best things life has to offer. please enjoy this take on the prompt and these two just being so soft on each other (and brady well....brady being BOLD). lmao! ENJOYYYY!!! thank you for all the love on them! :D
you in my A-2
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(a/n): partially inspired by the prompt, partially by an ask i got earlier. just....annie x brady getting more and more comfortable and slowly realizing things about this war that they didn't realize earlier. them. them them them. i need them to be the happiest they can be when this is all done :')
Ever since that first night in the Stalag that she'd crawled into the bunk with Brady, it had become a nightly thing that she'd evacuate by the time morning came, but yearned for with each passing day.
Where it was just the two of them, side by side, curled into one another's bodies, their eyes the only innocent thing held between one another in this horrid place.
Sometimes they'd talk, whispering quietly between another about random things, about some of the sad things of the world, about their lives back home that would be entirely different if they ever got out of here. Sometimes they'd just stare at each other, with what little light there was from the moon outside or the lights from the guard huts outside.
And by that point, Brady would usually thread his fingers into her somewhat tangled hair and she'd apologize for something she could hardly control and he'd whisper all the sweet things that it was fine, he just wanted to be there with her. And that usually lent to her fingertips brushing against his stubbled cheeks, her pointer finger tracing all those stress lines that popped out when it was just them, or she'd let her hands dip into his hair and brush it back in a calming motion that usually got him right to sleep.
And so by morning, when she was back in her bunk, curled in her blanket, looking across the way as people would start moving about, waking up, rubbing their eyes, yawning and stretching, she'd meet Brady's gaze from across the room and they'd share that silent look that meant more than whatever words either of them would manage to find.
It never went past that - the longing looks, the occasional forehead kiss. Maybe they were both scared to go over that line they'd drawn. That maybe if there was anything more, they'd lose it just as quick.
As Annie slid out of her bunk and crossed the small room towards where Brady was, she couldn't help but feel her heart bit a little faster just at the sight of him asleep there - his face scrunched up in a way that made her heart ache. The visible stress on his face even in his sleep made her want to pull him right into her arms and tell him over and over that everything would be okay, that they'd make it out, that she was okay beyond anything. Because he cared so much, that he stopped taking care of himself sometimes. And she always would pick up what pieces were lost and stitch them back together again and hold him in the darkness.
As she approached, she softly bit back her lip and reached out to prod him awake, which always made her feel guilty for doing such a thing, but he welcomed it and told her it was fine, despite her want to make sure he got a full nights sleep. Brady woke with a shake awake and turned to look towards her and smiled softly in the darkness.
"Hey," he whispered, before opening up the blanket, "hop in." Annie watched him for a moment, before her cheeks warmed - they always did when he looked at her like that - and she slid in beside him and let him engulf her in a mixture of his arms and blanket.
The second she felt her body pressed against his in the cocoon of blankets and warmth, her worries were stripped away, as they normally always were. She curled herself against the heat from his neck, her body begging for some sort of comfort in all of this, as he pressed a kiss against her temple, something he'd grown more akin to recently it seemed. It's not that they didn't want people to see them, it was more of the fact that they finally were back with each other and trying to keep things like they had been back at Thorpe Abbotts - friendly, maybe dancing the line of flirting but not nothing more. But here at the Stalag, they were anything but. And they both seemed to recognize that.
"You doing okay?" he whispered softly against her ear as she cuddled further into him the best she could and sighed, "That cold finally going away?" She nodded against him.
"Yeah," she whispered, "just a little bit of a stuffy nose, but can't complain. How about you?" She leaned back from him, from his warmth and smiled at him as she leaned a hand up against her head. Reaching forward, she ran her hands through his hair and watched a sense of calm wash over his form for a minute as she did so. And it did settle Annie's own nerves and worry for Brady that she constantly endured day in and day out. She always worried about him and seemed, but it was always mutual for the two of them.
"Okay," he said quietly, before the corner of his lip turned upward, "better now that you're here, I gotta admit." Her cheeks warmed and she shook her head before holding his gaze in her own.
"You're too sweet on me, John Brady." she whispered softly to him, cupping his cheek for a minute and brushing her thumb across his cheek as she grinned at him with her rosy cheeks. Brady watched her, that slightly far-off look in his eyes, a hint of a smile. He grinned.
"You deserve it, Annie," he whispered back to her, reaching up his own hand and brushing his fingers against her warm cheek and grinning, "that and you blush red like a tomato."
"You a fan of that?" she whispered back quickly with a laugh and she watched him bit his lip and smirk.
"I'd say I'm a big fan of that," he whispered back, "'specially when you look like this." Annie watched him - she could probably be covered in mud and he'd be staring at the way he currently was. And now, stuck in a Stalag camp, looking slightly malnourished and sickly, with slightly matted hair and sunken in eyes and he still looked at her like that and said things like that.
"I could say much of the same," she whispered back to him, turning her head slightly to nuzzle into his hand against her cheek, "you look cute when you blush." John Brady did in fact blush when she said that, even though she couldn't even really see much of his face in that darkness of the room. She grinned and then leaned forward and cuddled into his neck again, Brady chuckling the slightest bit as he curled into her as well.
"You're so warm." Annie whispered against his neck as the rumble from his throat echoed in her ear and made her grin like a loon, "You're like a personal blanket." That got him to chuckle quietly again as her lips danced near her ear and she could practically hear each and every breath that left his lips - a mixture of knowing he was alive and right there next to her - and even more so; knowing that all they were in that moment right now were two people dying for an ounce of comfort in this world.
"Consider me your personal blanket," he whispered back as his lips continued to ghost over her ears, "I was thinking….." Annie listened to him trail off and gulped for a moment as his breath trembled and his heart pounded.
"I'd give anything if it was me and you back at Thorpe Abbotts, just you in my A-2 jacket and nothing else." he whispered and her body grew hot - whether from his soft, husky voice in her ear or the way his hands had found their way underneath her clothes, fingertips grazing her bare back, traversing her battered and hot skin, her thoughts were suddenly in a blunder and all she could think about well was….that. Annie pulled back from her spot curled against his neck and met his gaze.
"Just your A-2?" she whispered softly, looking at him shyly from underneath her eyelashes, a small smile growing on her face as a look dawned on his features that almost seemed like he hadn't meant to let that slip from his lips, but it had, "What does that mean for you?" Brady watched her, the look in his eyes matching the touch of his fingertips on her skin and she suddenly couldn't focus on anything else but that gentle touch of his fingertips. He leaned closer and brushed his lips against her forehead again with that tender touch.
"You can have me anyway you want me." he whispered against her forehead and her eyes instinctively shut as he pressed up against her and she overwhelmed with him. His presence, his touch, the way he held her so gently and close to him, but with a level of protectiveness and care that made her know that this was safe, that she was safe, just like this.
Annie reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, slowly running her fingers up into his hair as his head fell to the inside of her neck and he pulled her close, like a warm, tender hug that you never wanted to pull away from. Gleefully his hands raced along her bare back as she curled against him, feeling the way his hands explored underneath her coat and wooly top, dancing across her skin and making her feel things she hadn't quite felt in some time.
"Can I tell you something?" Annie whispered softly to him, rubbing slowly again through his hair as he sighed against her.
"What is it?" Annie listened to his heartbeat for a moment before blinking.
"This is the safest I've felt in years." And to even say a statement like that, in a place like this was ironic even in it of itself. She hadn't even felt the safest at home, a place that was supposed to be safe. No, no, she felt safest in the arms and embrace of someone she had only met a couple of months ago and had proved himself to be more of a home to her beyond anything.
"With me?" Annie nodded against him.
"Right here." she whispered back to him, "You and me." His grip didn't loosen, he only held her tighter and it seemed in that moment, the realization and the weight of whatever was going on between them seemed to hit. Her truth spilling from her lips quietly into his body, his grip tightening, their bodies pressed against one another in a way that should've felt foreign. Brady seemed to want to say something, she could tell, but when he stayed quiet and instead pressed another soft kiss to her forehead, she didn't question it. Because whatever they had here was okay for right now.
"I feel safe with you too, Annie." he whispered back and Annie was convinced even she wasn't so comfy, that she wasn't sure what she would've done if they'd been looking right at each other, inches apart. For now, she cuddled closer to him, enjoying his hands on her stomach and his lips near her ear, their soft breaths, mixing into deep slumber as they laid in each other's embraces until the world went quiet.
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lirarere · 2 days
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jealousy headcanon
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Peter Maximoff\Quicksilver (X-Men) x reader
notes: I very rarely see headcanons with peter and jealousy, so I write with my terrible skills
warning: bad english, jealousy, fluff and all that, basically nothing triggering
words: 410
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★ good, it seems to me that Peter is very jealous, but not to the point of absurdity of course (that’s a lie).
★ someone came too close to you? Peter will be there and be very intrusive, basically hugging you a lot, showing the other person that you are his partner.
★ is someone flirting with you very openly? Peter's head will be blown off. he will openly show that he hates his interlocutor and will become even more intrusive, and if he gets tired of your interlocutor, he will simply pick you up from there using his super speed and take you to his “fortress” which is his (mother’s) basement.
★ okay, okay, Peter is a little stupid... imagine a situation where he wants to be with you, and you refuse, saying that you have “important things to do,” Peter gets a little upset and decides to follow you and sees that you are dating another man and very much offended by ignoring you, and whenyou finally manage to get the reason for his upset out of him, he says something like:
—I followed you and saw that you were meets another man
—Peter, he's my brother
—oh
★ you say that you wanted to introduce them tomorrow and apologize for not talking about it earlier, and scold him a little for following you and not immediately saying that he cares. naturally, Peter will forgive you and apologize for spying on you.
★ basically, when Peter is jealous, he sulks a lot like a child, but he is secretly proud when he sees how you refuse people, because he was the one who came across such a cool, sweet, wonderful (and a lot of other things) person, he adores you.
bonus!:
★ Peter is a little (a lot) stupid to understand that they are flirting with him and will not understand why you want to pull him away from his interlocutor, then you will explain to him and if you are upset because he did not understand or, in principle, because of this situation, he will apologize and take you on a date (he is very romantic, you can't convince me otherwise).
★ if he realizes that they are flirting with him (yes, this can happen), he will push the interlocutor away and say something like “no, I have a girlfriend/boyfriend/partner” and if the interlocutor does not leave him alone, he will simply irritably retreat into your arms.
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I still have a fixation on Peter and as long as no requests are sent to me (not a hint at all) I will forever write about him hehehe /j
masterlist
♡rere
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jxnxai · 2 years
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waiting
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bubacorn · 2 months
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hc: Vessel is bad at receiving compliments and being told that he is loved (hug inspired by this one, @ghxstly-death put it into words perfectly. thank you, Eden!🫂)
Thinking about Vessel who can't accept compliments, not because he doesn't believe them (that too), but because he'd heard them so many times in the past related to small, unimpressive things. Not 'I'm proud of you', just 'You did good', an automatic response to any and all achievements. He did good. He didn't know what 'good' meant, but apparently, he did that. He has no idea what was good about what he did, so he continues to push himself, to not be a disappointment. If he does good, then that should be enough, right?
He tries for great, for excellent, for something more, but he always gets 'good', unrelated to the effort and time he put into something. He knows he shouldn't wish for more specific compliments, or anything else, really. He should be grateful to be regarded. Everyone around him is so busy, they can't possibly have time to listen to him talk about how in reality, he has no idea what he's doing. How things sometimes just click but he can't tell if what he did is actually worth anything or it was just pure luck. How he doubts himself at every step but learned to hide it, because he has to be good. And good means coping and dealing with things by himself and quietly, because then he will be told that he did good and who wouldn't want to be good?
Vessel who hears 'I love you' for the first time (said with actual love behind it for the very first time) in a really long time from II. He wouldn't tell the other that, but it's clear from the surprise and the hopeful longing in Vessel's eyes. His friend told him he loves him and he doesn't know what to do with that, so he hesitantly steps to him and begins to lift his arms in question. II's heart squeezes at his shyness, after all, the other has spent months alone in the manor, so it's understandable that he would have grown unaccustomed to touch. But then II has to pull Vessel against him, because the man sort of hovers his arms around his frame as if he doesn't know how to approach a hug. Like he isn't sure what is expected of him and what is too much.
Vessel is surprised when II squeezes around his torso, when he brings one arm around his shoulder and the other to his neck, trying to bring Vessel down towards him, like he wants to protect and shelter him. That's strange, but Vessel finds that his arms want to stay wrapped loosely around II a bit longer and just as he starts to pull away, II again says "I love you, Vessel", and Vessel's brain freezes. II squeezes him tighter and Vessel feels so warm and strangely loose (he's afraid he will unravel if he stays too close for too long) and small even though he towers over his friend. His friend who is now holding him and who apparently loves him.
The only thing in his mind stumbles from his tongue in the form of a quiet "Why?". He didn't do anything exceptional. He was showing II an arrangement and said he wasn't sure if it was any good, letting his fingers dance over the keys, feeling like he was stumbling through music. He felt like it captured that familiar insecurity, and he liked it and hoped II would like it, too. Even if it didn't make it into a song. Then II said he did like it, that it feels like Vessel is unsure but it gives the melody a unique flavor, and that Vessel was great for translating that feeling into music.
"'Why?' ?" II's answering question is filled with such disbelief that Vessel wants to hide. He said something inappropriate, something secret that had previously only been dwelling in his mind, in a dark corner, and now he feels exposed. Why did he even open his mouth? Not good. Definitely bad.
Vessel is slumping against II a bit, like he doesn't know how to hold himself upright anymore, like he needs support. II must feel it, because he's still holding him, and it's been minutes and Vessel tries to squirm away, to save any dignity he might still possess, and II lets him slip out of the embrace, but his arms linger like he doesn't want to let go of his friend. His friend who just blurted out the worst response to a confession of gentle affection. Vessel looks so worried when he catches II's gaze and he immediately averts his eyes and takes a few small steps back, unconsciously gravitating towards his piano for protection, a sense of safety.
"You're my friend, Vessel," II tries approaching the man with soft words, "You're kind and considerate and a damn good musician," Vessel stops backing away when the back of his legs hit the edge of his piano bench, but he's still looking at the floor, "You pour your heart into writing and playing and it's amazing to see. You're committed, but patient and you help me every time I need. Even when I'm too embarrassed to ask," II tilts his head and steps a bit closer to try and catch Vessel's gaze, "I know you don't see it and I'm sorry that you can't because it's true. I would never lie to you about this, Ves. I love you, you're my best friend," Vessel presses his lips together, so II adds, "Not just because we live in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. You're the best friend I've ever had. And I'm glad Sleep led me to you."
Vessel gives him a look that shows he tries really hard to believe him, and adds in such a low voice it's almost a whisper, "I love you, too," as if he's embarrassed to admit it. But it's not embarrassment, II realizes, it's disbelief, it's some sort of deep shame about needing someone else, of relying on anyone else but himself at all times. And it makes sense, considering Vessel's nature, but II could never put it all together, since large chunks of Vessel's past were unfamiliar to him. He could have guessed based on how the man acted, but he didn't want to assume anything. It felt disrespectful. Vessel would share if he wanted.
"And I'm really glad you found me," just a beat of silence, before he adds, in an even quieter tone, if that's possible, "And that you stayed," Vessel risks a bashful glance towards II, and sees him blink rapidly, shocked by the implication of the other's words, before he shakes himself and steps closer to Vessel. He searches his face for apprehension, but doesn't find any, so he gently puts his hands on Vessel's upper arms and sits him down on his bench. Before Vessel can react, II has his arms wrapped around him, one around his shoulder, and the other's hand cupping the back of his head and cradling it to his front.
"You're important to me, Ves. You're special and precious and I love you," II's fingers caress the man's shoulder and card through his hair, "I want you to know that I'm here for you any time, okay?" Vessel is still stunned and he's sure he's going catch on fire if he gets any warmer. II twists a lock of hair around his finger, "Okay?" Words form and die in Vessel's throat so he just nods, rapidly, almost hurriedly, and II lets out a small chuckle. "You're amazing, you know that?" he nuzzles into Vessel's hair for a moment to murmur, "And adorable," II sways with the man in his arms a little and Vessel is sure he will combust. His face is flaming against II's shirt and he tries to suppress the half grimace-half grin on his face and feels unreal. "C'mon. Tea break?" II smiles down at him and offers a hand. Vessel can stand on his own, but doesn't reject the offer. He likes the warmth of II's hand and he can always use the stability and the reminder of the other's presence. II soon replaces his hand with a mug of tea, but it's considerably colder to Vessel. The contrast is especially palpable when II brushes his knuckles against Vessel's as he's handing him his tea. The mug is warm, but II's skin is burning against his. But it's not bad. It's a good burn. It makes Vessel feel alive. Seen. Loved?
Vessel learns that he doesn't have to prove himself to other people to receive love. Love is not something that has to be earned in their home. Love is not a reward, not something that Vessel has to work for, then be disappointed that in the end, it isn't actually given to him. He tried being good in the past, being silent and keeping his head down and being a good kid, but the warmth and the unconditional love didn't come. He still tried, though, he always tried his best, but apparently that wasn't enough. Or there wasn't actually love at the end of that tunnel. It was just a play of light. But that would have been cruel and Vessel would like to think that people in his past weren't intentionally unkind to him (he won't admit the truth to himself for a while).
II often tells Vessel that he's proud of him. For speaking up. For telling him when he's having a bad day. For asking for distance when he needs it and closeness when he feels like he will drift away. For admitting to messing up, when he falls back into bad habits of self-destruction and isolation. For doing a grocery run by himself even though he goes home almost shaking and has to spend the next hours under a blanket on the couch, because it was simply too much. For crying when he talks about memories that he tried his hardest to forget but he just can't. For asking for help and letting II help him, even though it's hard. It's really hard, and Vessel apologizes for it, for being fucked-up and broken and damaged goods. For wasting II's time and being a burden, a needy, greedy thing. Wretched. Minus human.
But II tells him he loves him and that he could never be a burden. That he will always be worth it, he always has been, and that he's sorry that people in Vessel's past couldn't see it. Couldn't see him for all that he is. For the friend who pays attention to little details so he can show his friend how much he values him. For the guy who bakes his friend a complicated cake for his birthday because he off-handedly told him he can't even remember what it tasted like, even though it used to be his favorite. For the amazing composer who can capture emotions one doesn't realize one has. For the hard-working, curious kid who thought that being obedient and not questioning authority was the way to earn praise and affection. For the little boy who thought something was wrong with him, that he did or didn't do something and that is why he couldn't feel loved. For the child who cried and cried, silent and under the cover of the night, hoping that no one would hear (and secretly hoping that somebody would and they would come and save him from the gaping emptiness that made its home in his chest, way too big and scary for a boy that little). For the boy and then the man who couldn't cry anymore but thought that that is more than alright, at least he can finally keep it all inside. For the partner who allowed himself to be vulnerable with someone he trusted. For the partner who made sure his other knew he was always welcome, even though his brain sometimes tried to tell him otherwise. For the partner who grew comfortable with expressing casual affection so much that terms like 'darling' became second nature to him (and for the way he blushed when II told him that). For the man who learned to accept that it's okay to admit to not being okay, to need someone, to want to not feel alone, to feel cherished, to have his feelings validated. For the man who can tell his partner anything and does, because he knows he can speak his mind and that there will be someone who listens.
II wanted to see Vessel. Vessel let him. Even before he showed the uglier and less than perfect parts of himself, II loved him all the same. It was never about being 'good' and silent and compliant. Vessel is good. Vessel is not good. He's amazing. He's perfect. He's wonderful. He's cherished. He's incredible. He's valued. He's seen. He's listened to. He's heard. He's finally, finally loved. Has been for longer than he dared to think. Will soon be by more people than he thought possible.
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lord-squiggletits · 2 months
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Speaking of Tyrest. A lot of people forget that he treated Pharma with absolute disdain, not only using him as a test subject for a clearly painful mass murder machine, but talking to Pharma like he saw him as nothing but some henchman to order around that was nothing more than a 'diseased cripple' if Tyrest hadn't come to rescue him.
Like it really is an interesting background dynamic with some curious implications, but when you look at fandom posts from around that issue/the years after, for some reason people just saw "Pharma worked with Tyrest" and concluded Pharma is a card carrying bigot ksjfnskxkd. Like yeah Pharma didn't do anything to stop Tyrest but it seems his main beef with the Autobots was with Ratchet in particular and maybe a general disdain for his ex-comrades. As well as continuing to hate Decepticons which like, not even the "good Autobots" are immune to (even in Pharma's introduction, First Aid says in his journal something like "yeah we all hate Decepticons, but Pharma REALLY hates them"). And despite what fandom likes to construe there's really no evidence in IDW1 that Autobots and Decepticons are different "races" or "types" of Cybertronians, so Pharma hating Decepticons really isn't a bigotry/robot racism thing. And instead probably has something to do with, idk, the 4 million year long galaxy-spanning blood feud war, or maybe being blackmailed and tortured into insanity by the Biggest and Most Decepticon-y of Decepticons.
Tyrest treated Pharma like trash, the other Decepticons working for Tyrest (how come no one ever brings that up btw) also hated him, so if anything it seems that Pharma was more of a rogue element only staying with Tyrest bc he was his best option and probably had no way to even escape.
I'm glad that at least in recent years the fandom has acquired a keen reading eye and good taste to finally recognize Pharma as the (accidentally) complex character he is instead of making him some posh, racist Starscream clone SHSJDGSGDH
#squiggposting#pharma apologism#yeah i'm apologisting again i guess my mental health is somewhat okay again dkdkkxckkddkd#(my followers seeing me post about pharma) nature is healing#there's also that line where pharma says 'maybe i can help' and skids is like#'fuck off and hope we don't beat you to death after this is over'#they didnt know that pharma was a test subject of the killswitch but wow#that's prolly one of the most out of pocket moments of the story that ive never seen anyone mention#honestly that moment is why i think JRO didnt intend pharma to be That Deep#i feel like that sort of 'not even other autobots like him' treatment is something#that comes up a lot in JRO's villain writing. or like asshole behavior towards some characters#is just plot events proceeding as usual. nothing to see just villains getting their due#tho tbh pharma's character in general suffers from the problem that he's so closely related to a main/major characyer#that it wouldve made way more sense for him to be written in earlier#so all his connections w/ ratchet and the plot had to be established retroactively#also speaking of 'asshole behavior excused bc it's towards a villain'#all those times when people are like (fucking amazing piece of medical research by pharma)#'then he started murdering his patients. what a piece of shit'#like idk it could have been intentional but imo all my readings of pharma were not really intended by JRO#and i'm fully just headcanoning and constructing theories on my own#like pharma was simply not important enough or a major enough character to get fleshed ojt#so basically we get enough pieces of him to establish continuity and a general timeline of his life and thats all
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novelconcepts · 6 months
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more and more it's feeling like we just...don't have room for people trying anymore. it's all or nothing; get it right the first time, or be crucified by a jury you can never fully see or convince. and this isn't new, isn't born of current events. it's become more and more prevalent over the last ten years thanks to social media putting every little thought on blast, but i'd put money on the idea that it's actually been brewing much longer than that. and, for me, it goes beyond being tiring or upsetting. it feels bleak. it feels downright fucking broken that we're all so busy trying not to condone anything remotely problematic that we don't leave room for good faith learning. watching people trying to suss out their own identity--something literally ONLY they can fully understand or explain--be vilified for trying to fit words around their own experience sucks. watching people misunderstand something and try to apologize for it later, only to be told they should have known all along, sucks. seeing people who once held truly toxic beliefs actually grow and learn and apologize and still be told to fuck themselves as if they're a lost cause--it sucks. just. does that not fill you with despair for the state of things? does that not break something in you, to think that if you one day don't understand something, or misuse a word, or grapple with complicated feelings, it will forever stain you in the eyes of perfect strangers?
dude the world is fucked, and we all see it, but like. it doesn't feel like it helps to be so goddamn reactive. it doesn't feel like it helps anyone to demand perfection out the gate. it's exhausting. there are enough people out there who don't want to learn, who aren't trying, who actively revel in cruelty. looking for malice in every little fuck-up from people who seem to be genuinely striving to live their lives with kindness strikes me as lending strength to an army that already glories in suffering. and makes the world look more fucked than ever. and i really don't know that that energy is what we need when there's already so much to set right.
maybe it's just me. maybe this last decade just shattered something in me. but i really, really hate the idea--reject the idea, frankly--that people can't learn and change and grow. that people can't be better than a bad day or a failure of understanding. i reject the idea that people are something to be thrown out because they fucked up. it just seems...yeah. bleak. really fuckin' bleak.
#personal#i dunno dude#this is that fighting energy from earlier. found some actual words for it i guess#but i'm just so tired#shit's fucked. some shit's complicated. and some isn't--some feels incredibly straightforward to me.#and to the next person maybe there's more nuance. it's all so fucking...there's so much to process all the time#and i catch myself in knee-jerk mode#i catch myself writing people off. making lists in my head. sometimes it's just purely a matter of safety#but god the things i'd give for some of those people to come back into my world#to learn. to grow. to apologize. to decide they value kindness and life over brainwashed beliefs#i would give so much for those friends back. those family members. those people i knee-jerk wrote off back in 2015#i shrunk my world down when i cut them out. i shrunk it down when i told them to fuck off instead of having a conversation#i actively made my safety net smaller in the effort to keep myself protected#and i just keep watching other people do similar things#and thinking like. if i could go back. if i wasn't so hot-headed and Certain that evil thoughts make a person evil#or that miseducation or ignorance or straight-up brainwashing broke a person for good#maybe it would all be different now than it was for my 25-year-old self#i just. i don't fucking know.#people are trying. people need to KEEP trying.#and telling them they're shit for NEEDING to try is only ever going to carve out the part of them that wants to be better#the world is fucked. why help fuck it even more. what is the point of that.#and i'm not saying don't call people on their shit. but maybe calling them shouldn't look like telling them to kill themselves#maybe it should involve a little grace#slamming doors just feels like it makes the house smaller. and shuts off exit routes you might need later#and i kinda wish i'd known that in my 20s
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calsvoid · 7 months
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have a sebastian line of a scene i might never write because i never write in general
“I don’t think you’d like younger me very much.”
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THE BEST OF PRIORITY: THE CITADEL (PART 1)
Featuring: Cmdr. Sophie Shepard, Lt. James Vega, EDI, and Thane Krios With: Flight Lt. Jeff "Joker" Moreau, Councilor Rannadril Bibsos Tembin Lesti Bensin Valern, Cmdr. Armando-Owen Bailey, and Kai Leng Kalahira, this one's heart is pure, but beset by wickedness and contention. Guide this one to where the traveler never tires, the lover never leaves, the hungry never starve. Guide this one, Kalahira, and she will be a companion to you as she was to me. Mass Effect 3: Legendary Edition (2021)
#mira makes gifs ✨#sophie shepard#james vega#EDI#thane krios#jeff joker moreau#mass effect#mass effect 3#me3#mass effect legendary edition#dailygaming#priority citadel is one of my favorite priority missions in the game so it’s a fun one to gif!#i absolutely love how much thane content you get in the front end of the mission since thane is one of my favorites!#and bailey is one of my favorite npcs in the game so i adore that he gets a bit of a spotlight role in a bigger mission too!#but i will say that i do think priority citadel has some.. writing issues? to put it mildly?#i think my biggest problem is that i feel like everything with udina feels like it kinda just comes out of left field#like it feels like there’s VERY little build up for what happens with udina being a cerberus plant#the idea is interesting!! but i wish there was much more build up for it? it’s sort of just- there for me and it just comes at you so fast#like udina had always been sort of portrayed as a kind of shifty/power hungry character (don’t get me wrong)#but the cerberus plot line seemed VERY hastily thrown in and i wish there was a bit more subtle nodding to it throughout earlier missions#and i could write essays about how i wish kai leng was written better#but people who write much more eloquently than i do can put it in much better words than i can what problems there are with his writing#i think he had potential to be a super interesting character if he was introduced earlier and was much less stereotypical in form#also i’m sorry mr. leng but miranda wears the armor better (I SAID IT AND I WONT APOLOGIZE FOR IT)#the fight between kai leng and thane is *chef’s kiss* 👌 tho (i adore the cinematography of the shots as a video editing bitch)#ME3 has very nice fight choreography in some of the cutscenes (especially the ones with kai leng and the phantoms)#thane krios will always be my beloved and in canon he and soph develop a mutual respect over their hand to hand combat skills :)#also i forgot to say joker looking so absolutely done with everything in that first gif is me irl ✨
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running2reanimation · 11 months
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Wonder
What if…
King tried not to get lost in imagination, in the what could haves and what should haves. It usually only hurt, but today he was alone. With Purple gone and nothing to distract him…
Imagine if the machine had worked and Gold had just walked out of the game after his allotted time. King imagined that he would have chattered about the game the entire train ride home. King wouldn’t quite understand his son’s enthusiasm but he would nod along as his son explained mechanics that he knew all too well now.
King doubted that would be the last he heard of Minecraft. His son never did anything in half-measures. Would he have turned to criminal activities just to get a chance to play again? …Probably.
Maybe there was a secret group of underground teens who had a portal much like he did now, that seemed believable.
Gold probably would drag Aqua with him, since they did everything together. Hard to say if Aqua would like Minecraft though, maybe the building aspect. King could see her building a farm.
Would Gold and Purple meet? Now there was a thought. King doubted they would get along, Purple probably would find Gold grating. Especially Purple as he was when they’d met.
Or Purple would have tricked Gold into doing something dangerous for Purple’s personal gain…
Gold would die in Minecraft all the time, but that would be okay because he’d just respawn in a bed.
Would Gold bring him into Minecraft? King doubted it. To never have set foot in the game… was a strange thought that filled him with emotions he still didn’t want to look at closely.
Gold probably would have spent that summer obsessed with the game, then gone off to college in the city. Gold had never been sure what he wanted to pursue and honestly King figured his son would become a stay-at-home dad.
King might even be a grandfather by now, though maybe not; Aqua would still be in veterinary school. He could picture the greenish baby stick, though and his son’s tears the first time he got to hold them… so like King’s own, though hopefully Gold’s tears would be pure joy and not half sorrow like his…
But… what was the point of imagining all this?
None of it was real. It hurt to do it. Made his chest ache in longing for a reality that could never be.
He was in his house alone. Sitting in the dark. He should probably go to bed, but the thoughts and feelings wouldn’t make that easy.
King pulled out his phone and checked the time before send a text to Purple anyway, “Are you up?”
Purple’s reply took just long enough that King thought maybe Purple had gone to bed, “Ye just finished the movie. Was about to head back.”
“I thought you were going to stay over there?”
“If you think we’re bad at sleeping, they are way worse. Except for orange, he fell asleep during the movie. I want sleep so I’ll see you soon.”
“See you soon.”
Maybe this wasn’t all he’d dreamed of. But, that didn’t mean it wasn’t still good. That he didn’t have things to look forward to here. That there wasn’t still hope. That he wasn’t still grateful what he did have now.
Purple was going to get one hell of a hug when he got home.
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zanathan-aisling · 1 year
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new chapter is soon so i’m hedging my bets and calling my bluff: if the mind-reading character finds out someone else is trans i get a dollar and if its yoshida turning out to be either post-transition transmasc or closeted transfem i win 20 bucks
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obeetlebeetle · 2 years
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trying to crack ep3 is SO hard. wuvvy. hob. what is going on in ur little heads
#like the best i can get at for wuvvy is#1) she doesnt smell smoke and thinks of hob as a person who gave rue cause to write their letter / led them on#2) she DOES smell smoke and realizes hob could pull rue away from their role (destabilizing/dismantling her role) so she tries to deter him#3) same as 2 but she is genuinely trying to kill him?#4) she is wounded by rue but sublimates her anger through hob as the cause of their actions towards her#5) she is wounded by rue bc she is suddenly aware that they are capable of seeking something else and she acts on impulse to hold them back#5.5) i have to think shes acting on impulse. wuvvy is calculating but not like this#6) she is wounded bc she is rue's protector and she does not know how to protect them#and 7) hob really pissed her off in that conversation#knick is both harder and easier to understand#my guess is: he wanted to apologize to rue earlier but chose not to out of fear of being scorned by his superiors#and now wuvvy appears to demonstrate the failure of that choice and the apparent worsening of rue's injury#he is guilty but then cannot get wuvvy to provide a path for remediation and hob NEEDS someone else to tell him what to do#how to resolve the guilt#bc if someone gives him the structure by which to act no one can blame him for doing it wrong#instead wuvvy insists on the guilt. perhaps she sees him as a rake perhaps a political enemy perhaps a threat of a more personal nature--#--she thinks he mocks her. she mocks him. it hurts. he chooses the only structure he knows which is satisfaction through violence#but i dont know what provoked them. why either of them react so so strongly and why the scene escalates so quickly#so uh if u have some answer for me.... hmu
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