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#feel free to add on any good ones i missed
theflyingfeeling · 1 year
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Joel sitting on the floor - a compilation
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twipsai · 11 months
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while im sharing my ahit hot takes, i also wanna add that i think ppl give Mu a little too much slack
like yeah, she IS a child, she WAS traumatized and had her home essentially colonized for no reason. its implied her family was killed and she spend at least a solid year completely alone, homeless, and scared
but like she also used time pieces to reverse the world 4 billion years back and killed everyone she thought was "bad" based on a short description they gave of their own life (if they were lucky enough to even get to the throne room and not die from the lava inside the castle). ppl act like the entire cast were horrible people for telling her to go away when she literally destroyed the earth???? like no one in ahit is a good person guys theyre all assholes lmao
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fromevertonow · 6 months
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Suzanne Collins is one of the few contemporary writers who realizes the importance of names in her stories and the significance they bear. They add so many layers to the story, additional meanings that otherwise would not have existed.
The original trilogy:
Katniss: named after a plant of which you can eat the roots. Her father taught her where to find it and told her that “as long as you can find yourself, you’ll survive” (quote may be a little bit off, but it’s from one of the early chapters in THG). Additionally, the leaves are in the shape of an arrowhead, referencing her skills with the bow which her father also taught her how to use.
Peeta: literally bread lmao. But bread is one of the basic nutritions humans need, a little bit goes a long way to keep you alive. Peeta’s presence in Katniss’s life also kept her alive, literally and figuratively—the burned bread he threw her in the flashback and their complicated relationship.
Primrose: a plant with medicinal purposes, even more significant in light of her work as a medic in Mockingjay.
Gale: literally means “strong wind” and considering that in every encounter with Katniss he’s caused some reaction, he pulls her into directions she maybe initially doesn’t want to go in. Additionally, his name also represents his determination and steadfastness in his beliefs.
TBOSAS
Lucy Gray: named after William Wordsworth’s poem “Lucy Gray” which is about the titular character of the poem who got lost during a blizzard. She literally got lost in snow. Rachel Zegler sang this poem in two parts on the original soundtrack of the movie. When Snow asked who the girl in the song is, Lucy answers that she’s a mystery, just like her.
Snow: aside from the obvious snow references, I think his name is most significant in relation to Lucy and the poem. The only one who knows what caused her disappearance is Snow. He is the reason that Lucy is gone. But her traces in the snow are still visible. He will always remember her because the memory of Lucy has manifested itself in every part of his life.
Coriolanus: named after the Roman general (and also the titular character of Shakespeare’s play), Coriolanus wanted to attack Rome and become its ruler. He was scorned and celebrated by the people, only to be later exiled from the city by them. In TBOSAS, Coriolanus is the star pupil at the Capitol’s academy but sent into exile to the districts after he won the Games with Lucy through cheating.
Volumnia: Coriolanus mother who played a part in his ascent to power. In TBOSAS, she almost serves like a mentor to Coriolanus, teaching him how to think in terms of power.
(Edit) Sejanus: a roman soldier who was betrayed by the roman emperor Tiberius, just like the future president betrayed him.
(Edit) Plinth: got this info from here, but it was too good not to include here. A plinth is a base for a statue or vase to stand on. After Sejanus’s death, all of the Plinth fortune was given to Snow for being such a good to friend him. It was this money that skyrocketed the Snow family from poverty to filthy rich. The Plinth money was the foundation upon which Snow built his power.
There are so many other names that have historical (mostly Roman and Greek) connotations—Plutarch, Seneca, Cinna—but also regular names like Trinket and Beetee bear meanings that represent the character beautifully.
Names are important. For any lover of literature or (aspiring) writers, please look closely at them. They can shape your story into something unique.
Feel free to correct me if I’ve said something wrong. I know there are many names missing, but I can only add so many examples ✊🏻😔
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haikyuupaladin · 10 months
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TLDR; don’t give tumblr money until they start making visible improvements towards accessibility
I’ve seen a few posts around about something people are calling crab day where you’re supposed to gift the crab button to your mutuals to support Tumblr financially. Please don’t participate in this unless Tumblr starts making noticeable improvements towards accessibility between now and then. It’s been 5 months of me trying to get the bare minimum of accessibility for photosensitive users or even just find out who I can talk to to get anywhere, and Tumblr is refusing to make any changes.
@photomatt has doubled down on the suggestion that you should just pay for ad-free or install an ad-blocker instead of listening to any of the suggestions photosensitive users have repeatedly made. Please do not give money to Tumblr until they show a commitment to accessibility because they will continue to ignore our requests if it doesn’t impact them financially.
Some of the requests we’ve made are:
1. Allow us to disable autoplay on browser as well as the app. This is an accessibility feature, not a data-saving feature, and should be treated as such.
2. Include ads in disabling of autoplay, along with other formats that currently get around the autoplay feature. Currently even if you have autoplay disabled you can still end up with flashing lights in your face every few posts from ads.
3. Improve the reporting process for strobing ads. The quick reporting process doesn’t provide good options to ensure the person reviewing the report realizes that it’s being reported for flashing lights so you have to hope they agree it’s either malicious or offensive and don’t just brush you off as abusing the report function. The more complicated reporting process involves getting a screenshot and the link that the ad brings you to, which requires lingering on the ad, which if you’re trying to report the ad for your safety, is dangerous. You can also still get the same ad 10 times a row after reporting it until it’s been reviewed. Which again, presents a danger to users.
4. Add a community label for flashing lights. Flashing lights are commonly untagged or mistagged, even sometimes maliciously. It would be extremely helpful to the photosensitive community to be able to add a warning to a post that doesn’t have one.
I’ve talked a lot about the photosensitive community in this post because that’s what I have personal experience with and what @photomatt has explicitly come out and just said to buy ad-free about, but there are definitely other accessibility issues that need to be addressed as well (like the alt text function needing improvements to make it accessible to users who need it and don’t use screenreaders, or the fact that a lot of tumblr official stuff still doesn’t seem to use the alt text feature themselves). Please feel free to add on accessibility issues I’ve missed in the reblogs.
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rreids · 1 month
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KISS STAINS • S. REID X READER
fluff; kissing; reader wears a red lipstick; gn reader; spencer is down horrendous; ~900 words
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“Baby,” you call to where Spencer sits in the living room, working on a puzzle you bought him. “Can you come here for a sec?”
He hums an assent, just barely loud enough for you to hear and appears a minute later. “Hi, honey,” he whispers, leaning over and down to kiss you before straightening back up. “What’s up?”
You smile up at him and wave a lipstick tube. His brows furrow before raising in recognition as you pull the cap off.
“Can you put it on me and tell me what you think of the color on me?” You pout your lips at him and tilt your head expectantly.
He swallows and carefully grabs the lipstick, studying your features. “Yeah.” He breathes out the answer, lightly gripping your chin with his free hand to tilt your face up to him.
Spencer is slow and delicate as he spins up the lipstick and carefully lines your lips on the edges before filling the middle with smooth swipes. 
“How do you know how to put a red lip on?” You ask, trying to keep from sounding too pouty, as he pulls back slightly and studies your features.
“Watched Elle and Emily do it for years,” he mumbles. “Especially when we were out at bars and stuff, how they reapplied. And I’ve looked up how to put on and remove every type of makeup for you in case you ever ask.” He adds the last part quietly and your smile overtakes your face.
Spencer nods. “You look gorgeous. It suits you.”
You beam and tug him down to sit next to you, laughing at the way he stumbles and blinks, bewildered.
He’s wearing a loosely-done white button-up, gorgeous and slightly too sheer for him to ever wear out.
“Good. It’ll look good on you, too.”
You can practically see the question marks around his head.
“You’re putting it on me?” He mumbles. “Why?”
“Not the traditional way…” you whisper before pressing a kiss on his cheek, leaving a wet kiss mark as the satin of the lipstick has yet to dry down.
He flinches at the sensation. “Feels weird.”
“But it looks so pretty. You look pretty, Spence. Let me? You can take it off right after I get a photo.”
His brow furrows, but his complaint hesitates on his tongue as you kiss the exposed skin of his chest and leave another mark. “Just don’t send it to anyone.”
“Of course,” you whisper, kissing his other cheek, right where his dimples are. “Just for me.”
Spencer’s face is burning under your lips as you leave more marks on him, his chest flushed red when you pull back to study your work.
You smile at him and he smiles back before gasping as you kiss right next to his mouth, and he melts into you, hands finally moving to hold you.
“Gimme a real one,” he whispers, eyes sparkling with boyish want as he voices the request. “Like you mean it.”
With a soft exhaled laugh, you oblige, tilting his chin up and studying the youthful excitement and your marks all over his face before slotting your lips to his. He lets out a sigh of relief, immediately finding a rhythm in tandem with yours. 
He tastes like his sugary coffee and him, familiar and perfect enough to empty your head of any thoughts that aren’t about his kiss and taste.
Spencer tilts his head and presses deeper, surging up to press closer to you.
When you pull back for air, he whines and follows you, fingers twitching in frustration as he tries to keep you pinned to his body.
“The— the photo.” You remind him, dazed and with skin just as hot as his. “Then we can take it off and I’ll kiss you as much as you want. Real ones.”
Spencer nods and lets you pose him, cheeks burning on the peaks as you snap the picture. He flinches when you first put the cold make-up wipe to his cheek, the temperature too starkly different, but he melts into you as you gently sweep over and remove each stain — except the one on his lips.
“You missed a spot, honey,” he tells you, looking up curiously as he swipes his tongue over his lips. You shake your head, and his brows raise. “No?”
“It’ll get lipstick on it again anyways,” you murmur as you finally sink down onto him and kiss him again. His eager response makes you smile into it, threading your fingers into hair at the nape of his neck.
Spencer sighs and drops his forehead to your shoulder after a few minutes, letting you play with his hair as he steadies his breathing. “Did you know that a red lip—”
You frown. There were statistics about red lips?
“Is my favorite on you?”
Nevermind. You beam at him. “Really?”
“Really.” Spencer tells you, kissing your collarbone gently. “It drives me crazy.”
“Well, now you’ve given me too much power. I can wear it and have you do whatever I want…”
“I’d do anything you want anyways,” Spencer mumbles, almost defeatedly. “You don’t need the lipstick for me to find you breathtaking and lose all sense.”
You smile, tugging his hair so he looks up at you, lashes fluttering and eyes soft from where he rests. “All sense?”
Spencer swallows. “Yeah. I feel like I forget everything I know unless it’s related to you.”
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not a want to do this and date him but a need
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solarpunkwarlock · 11 months
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Ways to Live in Direct Opposition to Capitalism
I am by no means an expert in any of these things I’m gonna talk about, so keep that in mind! I am just making a compilation of things I know of that we can do to lessen the stranglehold the capitalist lifestyle has on us while enriching our lives, our surroundings, and the lives of others. Please add anything I miss or correct anything I may be getting wrong! Anyway here goes!
Use what you have, fix what’s you can, make what you can, accept from others, thrift what you can, and finally purchase as a last resort.
This is advice I have seen float around here a couple of times that can apply to a lot of things including clothing, furniture, food, and more besides. It’s meant to be done roughly in that order as it applies to what you’re wanting/needing/doing. It’s about preventing waste, promoting self-capability, having a heightened reliance on your community, and consciously rejecting the ingrained habit many of us have to just purchase things or services.
Here’s where you can read about growing an indoor garden!
Here’s where you can read about sewing things yourself!
Here’s an online site for giving and receiving items for free!
Here is where you can find a local Mutual Aid to get things from, learn skills from, give do, volunteer for, etc. (in the U.S.)
Be politically active! (from a U.S. perspective)
Vote for every election. Know your representatives and those who will be competing in the next election. Vote without ignorance and without falling for unfounded claims. While operating within the system that actively oppresses us will not bring about the future we want, it can serve as damage control (preventing worse candidates from taking office) and it can potentially create a national atmosphere more open to change.
Here’s a good article about getting more involved in the U.S. political process.
Here’s a site that will show you how to register to vote, when and where elections are held, and more!
Here’s good advice on finding protests in your city!
Here’s some readings on unionizing! It’s your legal right to unionize!
Here’s a more user friendly site for learning about unions!
Be active within your community!
Developing strong, motivated, capable, knowledgeable, and inclusive communities is the ultimate way to combat the relentless and bleak present and future. When you’ve worked on the things above and have gotten good at it (or even if you haven’t gotten good at it yet), start spreading what you know and what you can do with others!
Give your neighbors, coworkers, and friends some of the vegetables you’ve grown.
Invite your community members to volunteer events.
Talk to folks about how to vote, when you’re doing it, etc.
Take part in Mutual Aids to teach what you’ve learned or whatever you may be an expert in! Invite neighbors, friends, and coworkers when you take part in the Mutual Aid!
Accept your community. Take them for who and what they are. Discrimination is the enemy of cooperation. You have much more in common with everyone in your community than a single billionaire or corporation. We’re all passengers on this spaceship earth.
Do it one step at a time!
Obviously we can’t do all of these things at once. Do what you can when you can, and you’ll start to notice real change in your life!
Our online communities where we talk about our visions and hopes are fantastic, but they have little impact if we don’t actually get up and do the real work that change requires.
Want to be better, and keep hope for the future!
Harbor and nourish that desire to be a better person and to be the change you want to see in the world. You need to be hungry for a better future if you plan to make it through the rough times when everything feels pointless and without hope. Reach out to others when you’re down, and be someone others can lean on when their lives get hard.
That’s it! Please interact with this, spread it to others, and add your own thoughts and ideas! It’s important that we do the real work to get the change we crave!
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monarchberrysblog · 1 month
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𝔤𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔱𝔞
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(the fan art is from @RamiroAart on X!)
+18 Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader
summary: after taking your car to get an oil change with your debit card not working, you offer a solution to the mechanic.
content warning: this is a bit taboo, so I'm putting a SMALL WARNING HERE. Proceed with PRECAUTION. miguel wears a virgencita necklack, pussy slapping, cunnilingus (f! recieving), overstimulation, fingering, semi-public (he fucks you in a garage, but it's closed), unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it, people). If I miss any, let me know.
word count: +1.4k words
author’s notes: there have been so many changes to this, it's not even funny 😳
Part Two to Gatita
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Oil changes. They will be the epitome for you. The visits to the mechanics near your house were always dreaded, especially since they reminded you of doctor visits. But instead of paying a small co-pay of ten or twenty dollars, your car costs more than life itself regarding its separate parts.
But paying for it? Your poor little debit card couldn't get a good read of the PIN reader. So what do you do? Give the mechanic an offer he can't skip.
“Compórtate bien, muñeca o te voy a castigar.”
The once-open entryway of the mechanic’s shop is now closed. But your legs? They were wide open to a munch. The man who changed your oil is now going down on you like a hungry dog. “Your pussy is so pretty…” He mumbles. You felt yourself squirm on the hood of your car, feeling his fingers hover at your entrance, with the tips of his fingers gathering the clear discharge.
Moving his fingers away, he laid his tongue flat against your entrance, moving from the bottom to the top, letting his tongue linger on your puffy clit. While sucking on your clit, the sensation of something cool lightly tap at your core, causing you to squirm. “Let's move her out of the way…” Miguel pulls away before you see the thing that dangled at your entrance. With swift hands, he maneuvered the virgencita charm away and to the nape of his neck. “We don't want her to see this.”
“What?” You whined, soon propping yourself on the hood and looking at Miguel going down on you once again, eat you out like you were the last meal of his life. With one hand, you buried your hand into his hair and let out a loud groan. He pauses momentarily, feeling your gaze. He pulls away, looks up at you from where he is, and chuckles. “Que asquerosa,” He darkly chuckles. With a heavy hand, he slaps at your puffy bundle of nerves, earning a yelp from you. “You wanna see me fuck you? You want to see?” He placed his fingers against the irritated skin, massaging the irritation slowly.
A tiny groan escaped before you covered your mouth quickly. “Let’s prep you, okay?”
One finger suddenly became two, feeling yourself getting ready for your sweet release. “Please…” You whined, grinding yourself on his fingers.
“Hmm, should I add a third finger?” He chuckles before a sharp, stretching pain greets you as his three fingers bottom out and slowly pump you. A scream fills the space before Miguel covers your mouth with his free hand. “Shh, shh. I know, muñeca.” He whispers, keeping up the slow pace. “I have to prep you for me, okay?” He moves his hand away from your mouth and places it on your hip, getting a good grip on you, not allowing you to squirm on the hood of your car.
The same build-up on your lower stomach came back to you, making you moan out loud for anyone to hear. “Please, please.” You plead, guiding your hips up and down on his fingers, relieving yourself. “Why are you begging? You're doing the work yourself.” He chuckled at the sight before him, seeing you watch yourself pleasing yourself and building up more arousal on his fingers. “Enough cariño. My turn.”
/
“You know what you do to me.” He whispers, getting you comfortable. Being bent over a table with your pussy out in the open while being face-down felt humiliating, but you felt giddy. The sound of a belt clinking behind you and a zipper going down heightened your senses and made your mouth water. One of Miguel’s hands gripped your hip, with the other hand nowhere on your body. You looked over your shoulder but got something else in return. With a heavy hand, a loud spank at your pussy fills the space. You turned back to look at the table below you and kept in your moan instead, biting down on your lips.
“C’mon, let me hear those pretty little noises you make…” A harsh, hot pain hits again, almost as if you were a strong stallion needing to be tamed down. The more the hits became close to your entrance, the louder your wanton cries became.
“You like getting spanked here…” His fingers gently rub at the red marks, giving you a moment to breathe. “Now, be a good girl and open up.” The feeling of his fingers spreading your entrance is enough to make you shudder and wait for what you've been wanting ever since you entered this mechanic's shop. A nudge against your entrance before a lowly aching pain overwhelmed you.
Propping yourself up against the table, you exhaled but soon bucked your hips toward his length and slowly sliding his length without holding back.
“There you go. Take your time, muñeca…”
You stopped yourself, not even letting his length halfway in. “Is it in?” You breathed.
A laugh escapes the mechanic, playfully patting your rear. “More or less.” He breathes, feeling your walls flutter at his length. “You’re not going to fit…” You whined, feeling him push his length inside you and his girth stretch you, painful but pleasurable.
“I’ll make it fit…” He shushed you, patting his hand on your hip. He slides into you, groaning in relief, seeing his length disappear into you.
Your mouth is agape, feeling you buck your hips back, wanting more. “C’mon—” Miguel’s words fade as a knock on the garage door greets the two of you, with Miguel being nearly balls-deep in your cooch.
“Keep silent, muñeca.” He whispers, slowly thrusting into you before the tempo increases. The knock came back, but Miguel ignored it, making your pleasure a priority. You let out a quiet whine, only for Miguel to reach over to cover your mouth immediately. “Keep it quiet, do you understand?” You nod eagerly, moving your hips along with his thrusts. Eventually, the person leaves, allowing the two of you a sense of comfort.
Beads of sweat landed on your bare back as your breathing became more labored, and you felt the same sensation on your lower stomach returned to you. “Fuck, you're tight…” He lets out a breathy whisper, nearly fucking you onto his work table. The force of his hips against you is nearly enough to knock over some of his tools, letting them shake and knock over onto the wooden desk.
“Tómalo… ay carajo…” He groans as you bounce back, creating a loud, wet sound throughout the shop. Looking down, Miguel could see at the base of his cock, forming a white ring, a combination of his cum and your clear discharge. “C’mon, come. You can do it, cariño.” His sweet praises are brushed aside as your moans evolve into screams of pleasure.
“C’mon, make me proud.”
The girth and the way his length rubs against your clit soon because too much for you, allowing you to finish. A sudden splash zone onto Miguel was the thing he least expected, feeling your juices coax his length and creating a puddle underneath the two of you. “Good girl…” He breathes before he continues to thrust into you, wanting to chase his release.
“I’m almost done. Give me a second…” The motions became more harsh and rapid, earning a scream of pleasure and your eyes to roll to the back of your head. Another release from you soaked the two of you, mostly on Miguel’s upper thigh, and lower stomach a bit. “She still got it.” He chuckles before he bucked his hips against yours harshly. “Want me to fuck a baby into you?” He croons, moving harsher and faster.
You nod, too cock-drunk to give him words. “Use your words.” He gave you a harsh spank on your rear, causing you to open your mouth. “Fuck yes! Oh God, fuck yes!” You scream out, soon kegeling his cock. “Fuck! You got me fucked up…” Miguel groans into your ear, keeping the same place. The sensation of his load crashing into your orgasm creates a mess between the two of you.
After a moment, the sensation of him pulling out made you whine, and you soon felt his load slowly seep out of your flutter hole. You whimper and soon get greeted by a gentle kiss from him. His fingers gently gather his seeping cum and shove it back into you. “Keep it all in. I don't want to leave a mess.”
Ironic to say that now.
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sailorholly · 2 months
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Appetizer
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Summary: A night out with the team takes a delicious turn.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x F. Reader
Warnings: Smut. 18+ only. Minors DNI.
See my Masterlist Here
“Give me your panties.” Your boyfriend Spencer, commanded. He was different since he got out of prison. There was something dark about him now. You weren’t complaining. Sure, you missed the old Spencer, but now he was rougher with you.
The sex was good before, but now he didn’t treat you like a porcelain doll, afraid you would break even from the lightest touch. He was still sweet to you, but you would have to say the sex is better.
You look at him with wide eyes, reaching your hand under your dress to remove them. You place one hand on his forearm to steady yourself, pulling your feet out one at a time. You fold them, placing them in his outstretched hand. He puts them in his pocket, grabbing your hand before you leave to meet the rest of the team.
When you arrive, you take a seat next to Penelope. She beams as you settle in, telling you how beautiful you look. You order your drinks when the server stops by. Kristy, Matt’s wife is talking about their kids, but you stop listening when Spencer’s large hand caresses your thigh.
Your eyes meet his, he lifts an eyebrow at you. You turn back to the conversation, Spencer leans in, his hot breath tickling your ear, sending goosebumps down your arms. “I don’t want to hear a sound fall from those pretty lips. Do you understand?” You nod your head, breath caught in your throat.
“Alright love birds, get a room!” Penelope teases you. You smile and laugh, pretending you weren’t affected by Spencer’s words. You are suddenly thankful you chose a black dress, so nobody else would see your arousal flooding the fabric.
Spencer’s hand inches higher, so close to where you need him. You continue talking with the girls while Spencer talks about the case the team just solved with Luke and Rossi. You squirm, the anticipation making it hard to sit still. Spencer removes his hand, taking a sip from his drink.
You stifle a whine, pretending you have to cough. Spencer’s hand returns, higher than before. You wonder if he can feel your desire for him dripping down your thigh. Your silent question is answered when he rubs it into your soft skin. The heat from his hand makes you throb. If he would only move his hand a little to the left and put you out of your misery.
The server starts taking everyone’s orders starting with Penelope. She hands her menu to the smiling man, who acknowledges you. “For you, miss?” Spencer plunges two fingers inside you, and you can’t remember what you were going to order. You were lucky you didn’t cry out at the sudden intrusion.
The server smiles, but you can tell he is growing impatient. “I, umm.” You begin, but Spencer cuts you off. “She’ll have the steak medium rare.” He answers for you. You smile at him in appreciation as his slender fingers curl, hitting your g-spot.
You quickly grab your glass and bring it to your lips, trying to stay silent. His thumb slowly swirls your clit, and your vision goes blurry. You grab his arm, needing something to steady yourself. The server comes by with the appetizers for the table, giving you a sideways glance. For a brief second, you think he knows.
Any worries about that fade as quickly as they came while Spencer’s long fingers slide in and out of you. You’re silently praying that Penelope can’t hear the obscene squelching every time his fingers glide into you. She’s none the wiser, gushing to Tara about her latest date.
Spencer continues working you with slow strokes of his fingers, his thumb dragging across your clit in small movements. Your fingers dig into his leg under the table. You watch as he acts unaffected, eating the greasy appetizer with his free hand. You shouldn’t be this turned on in public, in front of your coworkers sitting right beside you.
The server returns with everyone’s meals as Spencer picks up his pace. He adds another finger, strumming your clit with his thumb. It’s an effort not to rock your hips into his hand when you are so close. His thumb works faster as he curls his long fingers once more, tipping you over the edge.
Your steak is placed in front of you, as your orgasm rips through you. You grip the table, needing to hold on. You’ve never came this hard in your life. “Are you alright, miss? Your face is flushed. Would you like some more water?”
“Y-yes please.” You manage to mumble as your pleasure fades. Everyone looks at you, Emily asks if you want her to go to the bathroom with you because you do look quite flushed. You refuse, blaming it on the restaurant being too hot.
After your refill of water, everyone starts to dig in. Spencer removes his hand from between your thighs, bringing his sticky fingers to his mouth. His tongue swirls around the tip of one of his fingers. “Mmm” he moans as your taste reaches his tongue. “If the main course is as delicious as the appetizer, I’ve found my new favorite restaurant.” He winks at you, wiping his hand on his napkin.
Tags
@cindylynn @potter-puff007 @multifandom-worlds @mochie85 @wheredafandomat @cynbx @lover-of-books-and-tea @lamentis-10 @zzumkii @megharat-barnes-reid @anonymously-ominous @kats72 @vivian-555 @itzdarling @emarich7 @nomajdetective @aelinismyqueen @wildernessflora @academiareid @loz-3
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diejager · 5 months
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bro make a fanfic about the reader and the ghost/konig WHEN THE READER WAS SHOT IN THE BUN ON THE MISSION AHAHAHHHAH LMAO (in the military helicopter when they were supposed to return, the reader was holding her butt, moaning, writhing in pain and trying to hide the pain)
That is a funny thought…
Shots Cw: gun violence, bb shots, tell me if I missed any.
You yelped when you were hit is the ass, flinching forward and raising your arm just as you turned to glare at whoever landed the shot. Your right cheek exploded in soreness, tingling from the sharp pain of a BB shot.
“Hit!” You called it, letting your rifle hang from your shoulder as you rubbed your right cheek, grumbling about the bastard, “On my fucking ass of all places.”
You walk towards the respawn with your arm up, still cussing out whoever shot you in the ass. You had a hunch about the shooter: Soap, who else had enough courage to shoot you in the ass. You doubted Gaz did it, he might’ve been tempted, but he preferred other type of pranks, more mischievous ones like tampering with the washer or drinks, harmless but hilarious. Soap, however, rarely knew the limit, going as far as stealing and hiding your stuff, tapping you in the ass or messing up your head while he cackled away, speeding off to Ghost or Price to escape your wrath.
You reasoned that this was a staged scenario, a small group activity Laswell came up with that landed your Task Force somewhere in France for game of airsoft, a Free for all in the reserved location. No one had complained, thinking it a good activity mixing fun, training and awareness —everyone agreed to it enthusiastically once Ghost had voiced his grumpy acceptance, seeing this as a moment to be able to training without the prying eyes of others or the presence of strangers. Once you reached the spawn point, your jump back in to land a few shots at Soap to see whether or not he liked getting his ass bruised by a BB. You walked off determined, mind narrowed down to a single goal, your retaliation—
Until you yipped a second time, a pellet bouncing off your second cheek. You whipped around, yelling as your eyes scoured the tree line and the openings in the buildings behind you, the windows, the roof and behind pillars. You couldn’t find Soap anywhere, he wasn’t hiding behind the trees or in the buildings, but you did catch the glint of a scope —a familiar sniper scope.
“Ghost, you son of a bitch!” You screamed in outrage, feeling how both cheeks throbbed with pain. You bared your teeth, hissing at your Lieutenant who seemed smug and comfortable in his high perch on the roof of the building, “Why’d you do that?! I was already out!”
”Big target, luv,” his amused voice cracked in your comm, the low rumble of sadistic pleasure ringing out in your headgear. He cocked his scope, his white mask standing starkly in his dark gear and broad figure, “Impossible to miss. Quit moaning.”
“Big target? Are you-!” Huffing at his continued laughter, you glared his way before you turned to hurry back to the respawn, “Let’s see who’s laughing later, you ass.”
“Fuck- Hit!”
Your shoulders shook with restrained laughter, admiring the way Ghost jumped from your perch, hidden in the darkness given by the cement wall. You listened to him hiss and swear, massaging the place you aimed for: the pronounced curve of his ass, his jeans rarely doing him the pleasure of hiding what he had.
“Quit moaning, Ghost,” you cackled as you parroted his words, telling him the same thing as he told you, but you had more to add, more to taunt and tease him as revenge, “Couldn’t miss it, Lt, it was a big fucking target.”
You watched him stomp off, retreating to the tree line for his spawn point. It filled with a sense of elation and ugly smugness, and all that was left now, was to find Soap.
“Steamin’ Jesus!” Johnny’s yelp felt more exciting than Ghost, something you could devour over and ove without regret.
“Not so fun, is it, Johnny?” You smirked, replying with a gleeful tone.
He looked red-faced, the tip of his ears turning a bright shade of red from the way you spoke to him, utilising his known weakness and playing him to watch him stutter and flush brightly.
“Awa’ a bile yer heid! That hurt, lass!” His voice had taken a whinier tone, face screwed in embarrassment and something that you couldn’t put your finger on at this distance.
“I know, shouldn’t have shot me in the ass then.”
Gaz tapped you on the shoulder, a smile threatening to break into chuckles. He’d known what happened to you and knew what you did in retaliation, finding amusement after siding with you, sitting beside you and peering at two frowning and mumbling men.
“Heard you had a lot of fun.”
“Not enough.”
You thought you heard Price sigh tiredly.
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the-travelling-witch · 2 months
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𝐀 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌-𝐔𝐏
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summary: when you forget to bring your jacket, an unlikely hero comes to your rescue; is there more to his chivalrous action than meets the eye?
pairing: kaiser x gn! reader
warnings: fluff, kaiser being kaiser; i’m still on hiatus but i have to free this idea from my mind or it won’t let me go, also i thought it was super fun when they spoke german in the manga so here we are
blue lock masterlist
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“Is it me or is it chillier than normal in here?” You asked, rubbing your palms over your goosebump-ridden arms. As an assistant manager, you’d been next to the pitch more often than you could count, but on this day it seemed like someone turned up the AC.
“Hm, dunno. Seems normal to me,” Kurona said after contemplating for a few seconds. “You’re not getting sick, are you?”
“I don’t feel like it, no,” you wondered aloud as you watched the Bastard München and FC Barcha players walk onto the court. As much as you’d hate to miss the beginning of the Neo Egoist League, perhaps you should make the track back to your room. “I think I’ll go grab my jacket—“
Your sentence was cut off by fabric covering your head, making you flinch in the sudden darkness.
“Hier, nimm meine. (Here, take mine.)” A voice that had quickly become familiar since the foreign teams were introduced passed by and when you lifted the front of the jacket, you found none other than Michael Kaiser in your field of view. As usual, he was looking rather smug for no reason whatsoever.
Still, he was one of the last people you’d expect to help you out, so the raise of your eyebrow was somewhat inevitable.
“Versteh mich nicht falsch, (Don’t get me wrong,)” he continued, cerulean eyes trained on you, “ich mach das nur, dass du von Anfang an zusehen kannst, wie ich Blue Lock vernichte. (I’m only doing this so you can watch from the beginning as I crush Blue Lock.)
“Und da ich sowieso nicht auf die Bank gehöre, macht’s mir nichts aus, wenn jemand meine Jacke aufwärmt. (Also, since I won't be benched anyway, I don’t mind having someone warm up my jacket for me.)” And with that, he sauntered off towards the centre of the field, the self-satisfied grin still tugging on his lips.
“He’s such a jackass,” Raichi scoffed, his jaw locked and a vein protruding from his neck. “Now I wanna play even more, just so I can teach him a lesson.”
“Now now, let’s not get hasty,” you chuckled, holding the Bastard München jacket in your hands. “As much as I understand where you’re coming from, I don’t think it’s a good idea to pick a fight with our guests on the first match day.”
The fact that you knew about the auction system and livestream you’d keep hidden for now.
“While I really don’t like the guy,” Kurona cut in before Raichi could add anything else, “I still think you should wear the jacket. It won’t do anyone any good if you really get sick. You can still go get yours after the match.”
“As much as I hate to admit it, I agree,” Isagi sighed next to him. “It is probably for the best.”
“Fine, fine,” you mumbled, sliding your arms through the comfortable sleeves of Kaiser’s jacket, bunching it up at your wrists so it wouldn’t cover your fingers.
And with that, the whistle signalled the start of the match.
To no one’s surprise, the match was shaping up to be a great one from the start, the quality and speed of the plays upped significantly with the inclusion of the top league players. Though, for some reason or another, you just couldn’t tear your eyes away from München’s number 10, the same number currently decorating your back.
You knew Kaiser was good, considering he was hailed as a prodigy for the New Generation World XI. And yet, seeing him play was a whole different experience from watching the tapes. From his superb ball control to his efficient movements and precise awareness of the field, all culminating in a lightning fast Kaiser Impact, he basically demanded your attention to be on him.
So when his gaze crossed yours after scoring a goal, you felt like you were getting caught red handed by the amused crease of his eyes. With the way heat shot up your body in embarrassment, you might not have needed his jacket anymore.
By the end of the match, your brain felt as tired as if you had played yourself, trying to keep up with the new level to which football at Blue Lock had been raised. Subsequently, you zoned out for most of Ego’s explanation of the auction system, only to zone back in as Kaiser’s 300 million Yen bid was displayed for everyone to see. And while you swallowed hard at that number, the striker in question seemed rather unfazed.
Instead, he sauntered over to where you were standing, still wearing his jacket. You were halfway out of the garment already when he came to a halt in front of you, his long fingers tangling in the fabric to keep it wrapped around your shoulders.
“Hast du nicht gesagt, dir ist kalt? (Didn’t you say you were cold?)” He asked, blue eyes sparkling down at you with an unreadable expression. “Behalt sie an. Zumindest bis du deine eigene holst. (Keep it on. At least until you get your own.)”
“What? No!” You protested, further trying to shrug off the jacket. Despite shoving it back down to where it came from, a small part of you agreed with him, not wanting to give it back quite yet. “You need it more than I do!”
“Hm? Es ist süß, dass du dich um mich sorgst, (It’s cute that you’re worried about me),” he teased, amusement written all over his face, “aber es ist wirklich unnötig. (but, really, it’s unnecessary.)”
“Absolutely not! If you get sick because of me, I’ll never hear the end of it,” you groaned, finally wrestling yourself out of his jacket and shoving it in his arms. “So just take the damn jacket, Kaiser.”
“Nenn mich einfach Michael, okay?) Just call me Michael, alright?)” One finger tilted up your chin, so you wouldn’t avoid meeting his gaze any longer. “Immerhin kennen wir uns gut genug, dass du dir meine Jacke leihst. (After all, we’re close enough for you to borrow my jacket.)”
“Whatever you’re trying to play here, cut it out!” Before he could have a chance to feel the heat rising to your cheeks, you whirled around to make a swift exit and get your thoughts in order again. 
In that moment, you were so distracted by the blond, you’d forgotten the whole world could see you wearing his name on your back. You’d later be reminded of it when seeing comments flooding social media, cooing about the gesture or speculating about your relationship with one another. But that was still far from your mind at present, which was still trying to figure out his reasons for behaving like he did.
Meanwhile Kaiser, who watched you retreat into Blue Lock’s hallways, couldn’t stop the smile from tugging at his lips. Perhaps someone here was worthy of devoting his time to after all.
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© the-travelling-witch 2024 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit
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thatonebabybat · 6 months
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Being Masc & Goth
This blog usually isn't fashion-focused, but I was thinking about alt fashion and how it's sometimes a struggle to figure out how to style things in a masc way if you're interested in darkalt fashion, but you don't want to go too casual or basic with it. So I thought I'd throw together some tips, link some DIYs, and maybe throw in a few moodboards. I want to preface this with one thing: You do NOT have to adhere to traditional gender roles. Fuck anyone who tells you that you do. If you're a guy and you want to get into alt fashion don't let anyone tell you that you can't pull off a skirt or a dress or a strappy top. Literally the whole point of being alt is Doing Whatever The Hell You Want Forever. However, not everyone feels comfortable in that (I made this post because I'm transmasc and sometimes the long gothic dresses make me dysphoric), and not everyone is safe to do that ( as much as it sucks ass, if you live in a conservative area sometimes it can be genuinely dangerous for guys to wear makeup and dresses in public, and your safety should always come first), so I thought I'd lay out some tips on how to dress alt and masc from my own experience. I'm still learning so feel free to leave your own advice in the replies or reblogs! General Styling Tips: - Jackets. Jackets, jackets, jackets. Something about a big jacket always seems to give an outfit a more masc energy, and adding a cool jacket to an outfit can be a great way to elevate it and add some extra visual interest. I like black blazers, leather jackets, and black denim jackets in particular, but vests (formal menswear ones or more casual denim or leather ones) can work well too, especially in hot weather. - Any basic black pair of jeans will look 100x more alt if you loosely attach some chains to the pockets or belt loops. Also, pants with wider legs tend to look more masc than tighter fits. not sure why. Slacks can also be a really good and underrated option. - If you want to find good headwear, cool sunglasses have never failed me. You may be able to take some inspiration from Ouji fashion as well, but that's just my personal taste. - If you have a basic piece around, you can add pins, patches, safety pins, etc for a more casual look, or if you're going for something more formal, trims and lace details and embroidery can really add interest and elegance to it. (if you can't sew, you can order iron-on embroidered patches online or find them in craft stores that'll do the trick just fine.) This can take your pair of slacks or plain black blazer and turn it into a piece of formal gothic menswear you can make a staple of your wardrobe. - Find inspiration in your favorite goth artists. There's a lot of really cool goth music out there and a lot of those bands get really innovative with their looks! Figure out what you like about their style and try incorporating a few things in, it's fun! - If you have an alt wardrobe already but it just seems like something's missing or it could use some interest, try switching up the silhouettes or adding an extra layer! Seriously, don't be scared of playing with textures and sleeve shapes! I see a lot of dudes who just wear a band tee and a pair of jeans all the time, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that, that can be a great look! But I think a lot of dudes just genuinely think that that's their only option and that everything else just "wasn't made for them" and that makes me a little sad. shred up some shirts and layer them, wear some bell sleeves, throw some extra safety pins or studs on, have fun! No one said masc fashion couldn't be fun. Unisex/Masc DIY Videos I Found:
youtube
youtube
youtube
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... And Some Inspiration!
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[These are all goth music artists, I wrote the band/artist names in small text on the images that were not already watermarked for those who are curious]
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rainyyynightssss · 2 months
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Twisted Wonderland
Reacting to you trying to go back home
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Characters: Overblotters
Notes: Yandere/Toxic themes involved
"Crowley thinks he might've found a way for me to get back home!"
Riddle Rosehearts
He looks at your smiling face and something in him breaks. He should be happy for you, he really should. This is what you had wanted from the beginning. To see your family and friends. To be free of magic and almost getting killed by overblots.
But you should've been happy here. He'd order his card soldiers to keep the rose garden in prim condition for you to gaze upon whenever you visited. The birthday parties always included a dish you liked. You got along well with Trey and Cater. Sure, Riddle was strict with his rules, but he grew more lenient with you. Surely, you could see that.
"That's wonderful news. And you're...happy to leave?" He tries not to let his voice crack as he grips one of the legs of the table they had just used to share dinner together. Apparently for the last time.
"Of course, I'll be happy to see everyone back home. It is a bittersweet feeling though. I'll miss you all." He chooses to ignore the 'all' part of your phrasing for a moment. You'd miss him and isn't that enough reason not to go?
"We'd all miss you as well....I, especially,-"
"But I think it'll be good for me to go and be back with my family, you know?" You add and he tenses again. He knows well how important family could be, and he also knows how burdensome they are. His mother forced him to adhere to strict guidelines, and while it shaped him into the respected house warden he is today, it also made him afraid. Terrified, even, that everything would go wrong if the rules were not followed.
Perhaps that's what you needed. A healthy dosage of fear and some rules to keep you in line. You were his perfect rose, blooming and unblemished. You had always managed to drag him away when he got too deep in his studies and talked him down when his face became as red as the flowers in his garden. But now your edges have grown frayed. You're trying to go back to your roots but he'd rip you out of the ground, thorns and all, to keep that from happening.
"Right. Well, it's gotten quite late and it wouldn't be proper for you to walk back to Ramshackle this late at night." He sensed your confusion even before you could voice it. You've taken plenty of late-night walks before and this would hardly be on the top list of most dangerous things you've done at the school.
"I can walk back-"
"I insist. I couldn't let you go...to your dorm! This late." Riddle shakes his head and covers his blushing face with a hand as he stands up from the table. "I have a room for you. If you'll take it?" He offers his hand to you, hoping you will miss the small trembles.
You smile at him again and take his hand, sending warmth even through his gloves.
"Just for tonight." You nod. Riddle gives you a small, though tight at the ends. His rose didn't need to know about the details of their stay, only that it was going to last longer than they thought.
"Of course. Although I must make sure you have an adequate stay. Rules indicate that guests should have the most hospitable experience, no matter how long that takes to fulfill." Riddle answers with ease and you see nothing wrong with it. His rose would blossom even more under his careful watch.
Leona Kingscholar
"And?"
The notion of you leaving was laughable to him. You had already managed to barge your way into his life, ruining his plans at the Spelldrive competition, ruining his nap routines, and ruining his pride as a prince. And he wouldn't have it any other way. Though the latter is still mostly kept intact.
You look at him, seemingly flabbergasted by his dismissal.
"And...that means I'll likely be leaving soon." You tell him. He sees your small frown. You must think he doesn't care that you're leaving. But it was quite the opposite. As much as he would never admit it to himself, he cares so much that he denies any possibility of it happening. He knows you don't actually want to leave.
Leona watches you sit up from his bed that both of you had been lying in for the past few hours. He grasps your wrist before it can leave the sheets. His grip is tighter than usual. Leona had always been like that. He demanded respect and expected you to follow. You, of course, were not so willingly submissive to him but that made it all the more fun for him to make you.
"Ruggie isn't going to be back 'till later tonight. I've got more sleep to catch up on. Especially after you bothered me last night." Leona tugs your wrist to bring you back closer to him while he rests his other arm under his head.  Last night you had came to him, clearly anxious about something and didn't want to be alone. Anyone else he would have turned away with a scoff, but he's found over time that he has a hard time refusing you. As long as it didn't involve you trying to run away from him.
"Are you even listening to me?" You narrow your eyes at him and he smirks.
"I have and it sounds like a buncha nonsense. Go back to sleep and maybe you'll forget your dumb ideas in the morning." Leona grumbles and pulls you to his chest. He hears you huff but you don't resist, lying back down beside him. He doesn't know exactly why you're having these kinds of thoughts but it doesn't really matter to him. If you want to run, he is glad to give his precious prey a chase.
Azul Ashengrotto
Azul's hands freeze in the air, his fork and knife about to cut into the juicy salmon that had been plated beautifully in front of him. He glances up at you, his smile also frozen on his face, as you were just talking about how much you enjoyed Night Raven College and the Mostro Lounge. All until you abruptly switched to this topic he thought he was doing a good job at evading.
"Ah, isn't that...delightful?" His words would have come off as calm to anyone else, but you notice the slight strain in his voice. You always seem to see right through him.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you-"
"Upset me? No, quite the contrary. I think it's wonderful the headmaster has finally secured your passage back home." Azul muses and goes back to cutting his salmon, though it's obvious that his cuts are a bit more jagged.
"Yes... he said it could be any day now." You respond carefully. You try to offer him a smile as you take another sip of the drink he gave you on the house. He could see the small ounce of hope in your eyes of going back to your world. That wouldn't do.
"Is that so?" Azul takes a bite of his food, swallowing before adding, "It's really too bad you won't be able to go then." He continues eating, ignoring your confused eyes as if he didn't just say the strangest thing.
"Why wouldn't I be able to go?" You ask slowly. "I mean, the transportation might be difficult but-"
"It has been a while so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you forgot." Azul sighs and dabs his face free of any smudges with his napkin. "You may not step out of the bounds of Night Raven College by any means, including the Dark Mirror."
"According to who?" You let out a disbelieving laugh.
"According to Article 3 Section 5 of the contract you signed." Azul takes another bite of the salmon, not letting himself react when you slam a hand on the table.
"What contract?! I never signed anything!" You snapped. He remains as calm as ever. This time, you couldn't read him, couldn't even see his eyes through the glint in his glasses.
"You must remember when you agreed to work in the Mostro Lounge for a couple months. I had you sign an employment contract. I warned you about reading it through to the end. A suggestion I don't give to most poor, unfortunate souls in this school." Azul answers.
He did indeed give you the small packet to look through and recommended reading it all. It wasn't his fault that Floyd made a commotion in the kitchen just as you started reading the end portion. Azul urged you to sign it while he dealt with the mess that Floyd undoubtedly caused and you did, just missing the statement that required you to be on-call even after your employment ended, and being on-call meant you always had to be within a certain range of the lounge.
"You can't be serious." You utter quietly with wide eyes, realizing exactly what he was talking about.
"I'm afraid I am. But don't fret too much. I think you'll come to like it here." Azul smiles again. A smile that's hardly recognizable.
He watches you jump up from the table and storm out of the lounge, passing confused customers who glance back at him. He takes a drink from his glass. Azul isn't worried about you walking out. You couldn't leave here, leave him, anyway. And if you tried to hide from him, he would just send Jade and Floyd to hunt you down. You have become one of his prized possessions, and he isn't going to let you go that easily.
Jamil Viper
"Really? It's about time." Jamil comments as he starts chopping the vegetables you prepared in a bowl.
He had invited you to try some new recipes with him that he'd then distribute to the Scarabia students. For the past few months, you had been inviting yourself into their kitchen, much to Jamil's annoyance. You always offered to help him and he always declined, especially when it came to Kalim's meals. He was not going to lose his job over a pretty face. You respected his refusals but you still liked to watch him for some odd reason. Today, he finally decided to let you help him.
He appears to be half paying attention to your words while you're stirring the stew. "Haven't you been waiting a while?"
"I have. Crowley's been pushing off researching but I finally made him go through with it!" You look quite proud of yourself and if Jamil wasn't so irritated, he might have thought it was cute.
He simply hums in response and continues swiping his blade through the onion, each cut sharper than the next. He should be fine with you leaving. People come and go, after all. It would make things easier for him as well. He would stop getting distracted so easily, riddling his fingers with knicks from the blade when his thoughts drifted off to you.
"Kalim also promised to help me pack my stuff. He's eager for me to see my family." He sees you smile absentmindedly as you stir. Jamil's hand clenches tighter on the knife.
"Of course he did." He mutters to himself. Kalim got everything we wanted, didn't he? He got the wins, the praise, the Housewarden title. And now he was going to send you off. Jamil bet he was even encouraging you to go and like always, Jamil would just have to accept it. Only this time, he wouldn't. Jamil never got anything he could have to himself, always having to share with Kalim. You would be the one thing he could keep just for him.
"That reminds me, I needed to ask you something," Jamil says and you look back at him. He takes a step closer to you and leans forward, whispering the name of his unique magic. His lips widen into a smirk as he watches your irises fade to red.
"You'll be staying here, won't you?"
Vil Schoenheit
He raises a perfectly trimmed eyebrow as he works to pluck yours with tweezers.
"Hm? That's not the line, darling," Vil says. In your hands is the large packet of paper that contains Vil's script for his upcoming film. He had asked you to practice lines with him. You agreed and in exchange, you asked him to put some makeup on you. It was something he's been wanting to do anyway so he obliged. All was going well until you dropped this bombshell on him.
"I know, I was trying to figure out how to tell you and I accidentally just blurted it out," You sigh.
"Mhm. And Crowley has- Close your eyes, now - provided a way for you to get back home safely?" Vil asks as he moves on to your eyes, brushing an eye shadow across your lids that matches your skin.
"I don't know if anything about that man is safe, per say, but he did seem pretty confident about this." You respond as you keep your eyes closed for him. Vil shakes his head with a small 'tut'. The headmaster didn't exactly have a track record for reliability. He voiced exactly this to you.
"Crowley may just end up sending you on a one-way ride to nowhere. There's no telling where he could send you, why not wait for a few trial runs?" He places a hand under your chin. "And besides, why do you need to go home so badly?" Vil puts the palette back down and takes a tube of lipstick in his hand.
"Well, I want to see my fam-" You're forced to stop talking until he finishes applying the lipstick, "I want to see my family and finish everything I had going on there."
"If that's the case, I don't see what you could do back home that you're unable to here. And if you want to see your family, shouldn't you make sure your travel is safe so you can get back to them in the first place?" Vil questions as he wipes the small smudge of lipstick from the bottom of your lip with his thumb.
"That's...true." You nod reluctantly. Vil smirks a bit as he moves his hand towards the back of your neck, his thumb tilting your head up so you can look at him properly.
"Correct. And if I'm not mistaken, you've built quite the life here, haven't you?" He watches you slowly nod and he soothes the back of your neck with gentle fingers.
"You really want to throw that all away?" Vil looks down at you with questioning eyes even though he already knows the answer. You shake your head.
"No...but I also know that's something I'll have to do if I want to go home." You tell him firmly. Vil lets out a sigh and turns away from you for a moment.
"If you say so, but at least let me leave you with a parting gift." He turns back towards you and presents a small perfume bottle with a fancy font across the lid that you can hardly. It would no doubt cost hundreds in the market.
"My own creation that I've been working on. You're the first to have it." Vil says as he hands it over. You take it with a bright smile.
"Thank you! I'll try it on as soon as I get back to Ramshackle." You respond excitedly as you move to stand up from his makeup chair but he places a gentle hand on your wrist.
"I'd like to hear your critique as soon as possible. You are my perfect model, after all." He says with a glint in his eyes. You didn't seem to have any problem with that and sprayed a few spritz of the perfume on yourself, promptly passing out in the chair. You would get it through your head eventually that you belong here. You just need a little more convincing.
Idia Shroud
"Hold up, what?"
Your sudden words caused him to press the wrong button and his character gets brutally killed by one of the forest monsters in the game. You wince and put down your controller, turning towards him on his remarkably soft couch.
"Yeah...sorry to tell you so late but it looks like it could be soon." You say and Idia tosses his controller to the side, facing you as well.
"So you're gonna go? Just like that?" He asks in shock. You only recently just started playing video games with him in his room. Before, you had to practically beg him just to play a game with you when you were both in different dorms. It took a lot of convincing but he soon gave in after some persuasion from his brother. Once, you showed up to his room to see if you could play in person and he stared at you with wide eyes for about five seconds before slamming the door in your face, apologizing later over text.
He was unbearably anxious around you at first but he got used to the idea that you wouldn't judge him so easily. So he showed you another side, his more competitive and ill-mannered side to see if that would make you go away. And you still didn't. You instead embraced him for it. So why now were you just going to forget about all that?
"I-I mean I have to," You were clearly caught off guard by the intense look in his eyes, "I have a home and a family and friends-"
"Yeah, yeah, sure but what about everything you have here?" Idia insists.
"Everything I have here?" You ask.
"Y-Yeah, those first years, Grim, your dorm, me- many other things!" He stammers out. It would be way too cringe to mention himself deep down he hopes he's one of the things that could keep you here.
"Of course I'll miss everyone, but I miss everyone back home too," You say. Idia sighs deeply as he throws his head back on the couch.
"You're reallly set on this, huh?" Idia asks. You bite your lip and nod.
"But I still-" You try to add but he cuts you off.
"No, I get it. I wouldn't wanna be around me either." Idia sighs again. You look at him with wide eyes and fervently shake your head.
"No, it's not like-"
"You must have better friends back home if you're so desperate to see them again." He adds as he looks away with a frown. You don't notice him peeking back at you. You sigh and tilt your head so you can fully meet his gaze.
"Look, I'll talk to Crowley, see if he can push it back a bit." You tell him. He looks at you curiously.
"Are you sure? I don't wanna pressure you if-"
"No, it's okay. I want to spend more time with you and everyone anyway." You give him a small smile and he smiles back. He could play the pity card all day if it meant you'd stay.
Malleus Draconia
Malleus pauses in his steps, looking at you with a wide, curious gaze.
"You're leaving?" He utters. The two of you had been enjoying your nightly walks together back to Ramshackle. After one too many fights and attacks happening after hours on campus, he thought it best to escort you back home. He could easily teleport you both back to your dorm, but it gave him a good excuse to be around you more.
"Yes, hopefully it'll be soon. I'm excited to go back!" You smile enthusiastically and Malleus can only offer a grimace back.
"I suppose you could say I'm a little surprised. I thought you were happy here. Did I assume wrong?" He asks as he continues walking you to your dorm. Normally you would have never been able to keep up with his pace but he always kept a slower one for you.
"Oh no, I am happy here. My friends have been wonderful and I'm glad I'm friends with you. There's just some things I could do without." You mention offhandedly as you gaze up at the moon. He looks down to see it reflected in your eyes. The moon is wondrous but all he can see are the eyes that pinned a man who could never yield so deeply. You managed to befriend a dragon who is intimidating in every manner. That kind of connection isn't so flimsy that it could be dismissed by thoughts of departure.
"Things such as what?" Malleus perks up at the idea of solving one of your problems. As powerful as he is, there are a number of things he can't help you with. He couldn't do anything about your assignment getting deleted after your internet 'crashed' or about the friendship problems you once had with the Heartslabyul boys, but he's always eager to listen, just as you always do with him.
"It's just some rowdy guys from Savanaclaw who are still mad about the Spelldrive competition. They've been bothering me a bit but it's not a big deal." You tell him and he stops the both of you this time with a hand on your shoulder.
"Bothering you? For how long?" Malleus didn't mean to turn his hard glare on you but he couldn't help the fury building up inside of him. Many of the students already noticed your looming shadow that often followed you around like a lost puppy, which was usually enough to keep them from trying anything. Malleus isn't naive enough to believe that students at this school are always on their best behavior when he has his own business to deal with in the Diasomnia dorm. However, he swiftly and discretely took care of any nuisances that he happened to notice. He didn't think you were keeping anything from him.
"Like I said, it's not-" You try to soothe him but his glare only hardens.
"For how long?" Malleus repeats and he doesn't plan to a third time.
"For about a month now...but I can handle it myself!" You insist but he ignores the latter half of your sentence as his face morphs back into a gentler one.
"So that's what's been burdening you? I wish you'd have told me sooner but it's no matter. I'll take care of it." Malleus assures you.
"I mean that's one thing, but I have other reasons-" He cuts you off with a pat on your head as the two of you stop in front of Ramshackle's doors.
"You don't have to ruminate on it any longer. Do try to tell me about any other troublesome students in the future. I'll handle them and anyone else who tries to ruin your happiness here at Night Raven College." He vanishes in a flurry of lights before you can say a word. Any serious notion of you leaving is unthinkable to him, and if you do come up with more reasons, he'll make sure to take care of those as well.
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kevindayscrown · 1 month
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List of things Kevin did/was revealed he had done in TSC that broke my heart:
(TW: Mentions of suicide/suicide attempt)
TSC Spoilers below
He gave Jean postcards and magnets from his travels because Jean never got to see the world the way he did and Jean cherished them dearly.
He made Jean promise he wouldn't try to kill himself again, and Jean is still holding on to that promise. Kevin once again, making sure to protect his loved ones in the tough-love manner (truly his father's son).
He gave advice to Jeremy as to how Jeremy can help Jean adjust, revealing some truths about Raven lifestyle and probably also exposing his own vulnerabilities.
"Will you teach me when he is not watching? It could be our little secret."
Things that just made me fall more in love with Kevin overall:
He was a drama queen to the Ravens as a distraction so he could help Jean.
Kevin being described as a bitch, diva, drama queen etc
"Take Kevin's name out of your ignorant mouth."
Kevin being so caring overall with Jean (holding his hand, being soft with him and giving him a better chance with the Trojans)
Jean defending Kevin. "He has earned the right to be arrogant."
Kevin being a lot more confident, especially after changing the tattoo, standing his ground, and being something stable for Jean to lean on.
Jeremy trusting Kevin that he wouldn't fuck the Trojans over with Jean, because he knows Kevin and he knows he is a good friend.
Beautiful boy Kevin leaning into Jean's space, whispering French in secret behind Riko's back.
Nora was truly honest when she mentioned that we would be getting a whole new perspective of Kevin.
Feel free to add more if I missed any.
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antiquatedplumbobs · 1 year
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Antiquated Brindleton
An 1890s Decades Challenge Save File
This save has been almost a year in the making, but it's finally here! It includes a completely rebuilt Brindleton Bay inspired by historic New England towns and set in the 1890s. This save uses a light amount of historical cc and most of the packs.
Download and details under the cut:
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SAVE DETAILS:
Includes:
Eight new residential lots
Seven new community lots
Six new households
Builds and households are all located in Brindleton Bay. The world is intended to be historically accurate to about 1890, though some liberties for functionality have been taken.
Builds in other worlds have been deleted. The necessary buildings, like dorms, active career lots, and the high school, have all been left in place.
Townies have been evicted, but not deleted, as I prefer EA townies to fully randomized townies.
If you’d like more period appropriate townies to add, the lovely @jewishsimming has some great historical ones to download and @cowplant-snacks has an amazing tutorial on how to manage your townies with MCCC.
REQUIREMENTS: I have all the packs except Batuu and some of the kits. I didn’t limit myself when building. I don’t have everything listed out here, but I will be uploading all the lots and households to my gallery, so if you’d like to know specific pack usage you’ll be able to check there. If you load in and things are replaced or missing and you think it looks obvious feel free to message me, I’m always happy to try to help you find something else that fits! This save includes historical CC, some is included in my download in folders and some you will need to download from the creators directly. The CC required is listed and linked below, you need to download these linked pieces in ADDITION to the included cc folders.
CC To Download:
@lilis-palace
FOLKLORE Set
@s-imagination
Cottage Kitchen Stuff Pack
@happylifesims
1840s Suspenders Outfit
1900s Male Hunting Fashion
1920s Nightgown
Piteous Outfit
Sylas Fashion Set
Wilbur Outfit
@satterlly
Medieval Nightgown Della
@vroshii
Functional Tennis Set
@vampireloreskill
Antique Standing Camera
Creators Whose CC I Included:
@ameyasims (Better Than a Bush Outhouse, Victorian Swimwear)
@buzzardly28 (Multiple women’s hairs)
@chereindolente (Sacco Chore Coat, Edwardian Child Clothes)
@gilded-ghosts (Boudoir Belle, Victorian Visions, New Woman)
@jewishsimming (Off The Grid Objects, CAS items)
@linzlu (Assorted CAS and BB items)
@the-melancholy-maiden (Victorian Hair and Hat)
@nolan-sims (Potbelly Stove Set)
@pandorasimbox (Get To Church Pack, Azariah’s Sack Suit, Antique Slipper Tub, Heirloom Silhouette Portraits)
@peacemaker-ic (Simple Siding Wall Set, Luxurious Single Bedding V2)
@plumbobteasociety (Some BB and CAS items from the Cottage Garden Pack, HSL Happy Birthday Set)
@twentiethcenturysims (Langtree Hair, Historical High Chair, Quilts for Kids)
@waxesnostalgic (Sportswear Separates, Peterpan Bodysuit)
Thank you to all of these wonderful creators, your historical cc creations make this game a million times better to play and I appreciate all of you so very much. Recommended but not required mods:
Timeless by @pandorasimbox
Default Map Replacements by Deshayan (if you’d like your map to look like mine does in the preview)
Victorian NPC Replacements and Llama Scouts Historical Replacements by @cowplant-snacks
Home Regions by Kuttoe
DOWNLOAD: There are five zipped folders to download, four of which contain included cc, and one which includes the save itself.
Download the "AB_SaveFile" folder, unzip it and simply move the file inside to your saves folder inside your Sims 4 folder (where your mods folder is located).
The included cc is in four folders (to allow for easier upload/download) for build, buy, clothing, and hair. Simply download the folders, unzip them, and place them in your mods folder.
After this you should be good to load up your game and get playing, let me know if you run into any issues, I'm happy to try to troubleshoot. SFS | Google Drive THANK YOU: To all my amazing testers: @epistolarysims @aheathen-conceivably @cowplant-snacks and especially @simadelics who edited my household and build descriptions.
If you use this save file, please tag me in any photos you take, I want to see them all!! This save has been my baby for so very long and I cannot wait to see what you all do with it!
@maxismatchccworldrld @mmoutfittersters
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lis-likes-fics · 6 months
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A Christmas Movie
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Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x spider!Reader Word Count: 5.4k exactly Kink: Size Kink Warnings: NSFW, smut, unprotected sex, swearing, size difference, fingering, multiple orgasms, creampie, love vomits, Miguel speaking Spanish… A/N: This is a few hours late but I literally finished it five minutes ago. Miguel describes the reader as tiny a lot, but it is only meant in comparison to him, not as a physical description of the reader. Thank you! Also A/N: This can be read as a sequel to this oneshot, but can also be read as a standalone. Thank you and enjoy!
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“Is this necessary?”
You rub your side as you lay on the floor, an ache in your muscles as you get thrown to the hard floor again. Looking up at him, you move to stand. “Yes.”
Miguel crosses his arms over his chest, his gray hoodie loose enough not to allow you the pleasure of seeing his muscles bulging through the material. “Why?” he asks, waiting patiently for you to recover before he advances again.
You stretch your arms over your head, feeling your back pop with a heavy sigh. “Well, you saw my attempt just then. You threw me like a fucking ragdoll.”
He shrugs. “Are you ready?”
You sigh, shifting back into your starting stance.
“Firmer stance. I shouldn't be able to move you.”
You roll your eyes and scoff. “Of course you should. Have you seen yourself? You're huge…in more ways than one.” You smirk at him.
He just rolls his own eyes in return. “It should be harder to push you. If I can use my finger to make you fall, your stance is flimsy.”
“You can use your finger to make me fall apart any day.”
He ignores you. He walks over to you, ignoring your remarks as he fixes your stance. He nudges one leg further from the other, widening your feet before pressing down on your shoulders to lower you slightly. He shoves you, you stay standing.
“Better. Do that,” he says.
“You're so grumpy,” you mumble.
A chill rushes up your spine and your right cheek flutters with heat. Ducking, you narrowly miss Miguel's fist to your face. “Dude, what the fu–!”
You backflip, landing in a crouch as he went for another attack, this time aimed at your feet. “Always be on guard. I could have knocked you out,” he instructs, still coming toward you.
His webs shoot toward you, and you act quickly as you jump up once again. You flip before planting your feet off a wall and jumping off just as fast to fly over his head. Another web threatens to wrap around your body, you block it with your own web.
Miguel bounds after you. When you land, you shoot your webs at him one right after the other. He dodges them all, nearing you like a colossus. When he's close enough, you flip back again and spring off your hands. Your foot almost makes contact with his face, but he turns just in time to step out of the way, grabbing you midair and throwing you away.
You're about to fly into a wall when you manage to change your position enough to bounce off of it. He isn't fast enough to catch you this time. You hook your leg around his neck and manage to wrap them both there quickly. You squeeze your thighs tight around him. He reaches up to grab you, and you web his face to blind him.
Miguel's hands grip your body, but you tighten your legs around him and lean back with as much force as you can muster. You shoot webs to the floor, gripping them tight to add some strength as you manage to flip him forward. He lands hard on the floor, and you land in a perfect crouch.
He groans at the impact, moving to rip the webs from his face quickly to an attempt to stay on the attack. But while he's distracted, you web his hands to his face and web his foot to the floor, shooting a few extra for good measure.
He rips the webs on his hands almost too easily, breaking free from the restraints. In one swipe, his foot is free. He comes for you immediately, pouncing at a surprising speed.
You roll onto your back, propping your knees to your chest. You manage to maneuver him so he flies past you. He rolls to avoid another hard hit to the floor.
The chill in your spine is just a second too late. His webs shoot at you. You lose your balance as you try to stand, and you fall back in the middle of turning to face him. In the next second, he's on top of you, a hand around your throat and your hands pinned above your head.
His face is inches from your own, his breath heavy and his eyes are nearly glowing red with exertion. “What were you waiting for?” His voice is insistent and rough, high on adrenaline.
A shiver blossoms through you, a rush of pleasantness prickling your skin. Your breath is shallow and quick. As you stare up at him, wide-eyed and also on an adrenaline rush, you smirk. “Do we always end up like this?”
He tilts his head, confusion finding its way to his face. Then he remembers. You're in the training hall, this is just practice, and you're you.
He rolls his eyes, and the adrenaline seems to fade. He doesn't get up. “You're smaller than me, which makes you faster. You can't let down your guard, and you can't slow down for any reason.”
You huff. “Okay, but that kick thing was impressive.”
He stares at you, debating. Then he shrugs, “Wasn't bad.”
Again, you roll your eyes. “Get off me. You're heavy.”
He does, moving to stand and give you room to do the same. “Okay,” you stretch. “Let's go again.”
“No. Go home.”
You straighten your spine immediately, surprise taking your face. “What? No!”
He peels his hoodie off, leaving his top bare as he walks over to the shelf of towels. “Yes. Go.”
You run over to him, blocking his way. “We don't have to train, you know. We could…” You pause to think, clapping when you have it. “We could watch the surveillance systems! I love the surveillance systems!”
He raises a brow, walking past you. You walk with him. “You hate the surveillance systems.”
You pause. “I do hate them. But you'll be there anyway.”
He stops, looking down at you, unamused. He brings his hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “Go home,” he says, looking at you now. “It’s Christmas. You should be…” he thinks for a moment, “out spending time with friends. Not here…looking at surveillance with me.”
You shrug. “Okay, then we can do something else together.”
“Isn’t there some Christmas party for you to go to?” He starts walking. You follow at his side, shrugging again as you nod your head.
“Hobie’s throwing one in his dimension, yeah,” you mumble. “But I’m not there. I’m here.”
He stops again, turning his full body to face you with a raised brow. “Why are you here? Why don’t you just go home?”
You look up at him, swallowing thickly as your gaze slips from his. You sigh, letting the silence stretch a moment too long as you come to terms with saying it. “I have no one waiting for me at home.” Miguel’s stare softens, becoming a little more sympathetic as he processes your words. “And, like you said, it’s Christmas. No one should be alone on Christmas.”
He looks at you again. With a sigh, he shakes his head gently. “You’re too nice to me.”
You smile, accepting his defeat. “I know. Go get your shower. I’ll see you after.”
One day, he'll tell you.
~
Miguel’s shirt swallows you whole as you pull it over your head. It’s huge and gray, and it hangs at your knees , sagging off your shoulder. Your fuzzy socks are pulled up to your mid-leg, silencing your steps as you walk to the side table.
Miguel’s room in HQ is small, almost like a mediocre hotel room—the tiny room with a single bed and drawer (minus the TV) that nearly takes up the whole space, a tiny closet, a tiny bathroom, and a tiny living room with an okay-sofa and a TV. He has a small area for a coffee maker, a fridge, a cabinet, and a microwave, but that’s as much of a kitchen he has. A mediocre hotel room. He has a house, but he doesn’t go there often.
He comes out of the bathroom, steam rising from his shoulders as his white towel hangs low on his waist, He’s still dripping with water, tiny droplets from strands of hair, little tears streaming down his skin. He’s beautiful. You look away from him.
You pick up two DVDs from the side table, turning the cases over in your hands to examine the front. “Okay, so I got these from Movie-Verse.”
“Movie-Verse,” he mumbles, running a hand through his hair as his broad body stands in front of his dresser. He opens the third drawer and grabs the first pair of shorts he sees.
“Yeah, the movie store next to the cafeteria. Has a ton of movies from all the ‘verses.” You wave a hand dismissively, setting one of the cases down and taking the other in both hands. “Anyway, I picked this up. It’s called The Nightmare Before Christmas by some guy named Tim Burton.” You use a mysterious voice when you say the title, stretching the drama. “I think it would be cool.”
He finishes patting dry the water from his skin, tossing the towel onto the bed to pull his shorts on. “Sounds like a Halloween movie.” His tone is flat. He seems almost bored, his face dropped into that grumpy expression he’s taken on.
“Well, yeah,” you shrug, “but it says Christmas on it. Look.”
You toss the case to him. He catches it in one hand effortlessly, his gaze fixed on the drawer he was closing. He examines the front. “There’s a skeleton on it.”
“Doesn’t matter,” you matter-of-factly. “Put it in. We’re watching it.” He does as he’s told. You go to his little kitchenette and pull open the fridge. “Do you like eggnog?”
He’s retrieved his towel once more, rubbing it over his wet hair. His muscles flex with every little movement. Part of you wants to make a sly comment, but you refrain.
“No.”
“Yeah. Me, neither,” you hum. You close the fridge, pulling open the cabinet to retrieve two glasses he has stowed away (one that had already been in his cabinet and one you’d put there for yourself months ago). “I just got wine and hot cocoa.”
He practically grunts as a reply. He sounds uninterested, unimpressed. Your pep sours, and you feel yourself physically deflate as you try and fail to brush off his seeming apathy. You set the glasses down with a gentle click and fidget with the fabric of the oversized shirt.
Your voice is small when you speak, almost embarrassed. “Do you want me to leave?”
He looks up at you then, directing his attention. His brows furrow as he holds the remote in his hand, which dwarfs the “tiny” device. “What?”
You shuffle from one foot to the other, feeling awkward. “I can go if you want… Hobie has that Christmas party, like I said, and… I can just go there if you don’t want me here.” The last part comes out choppy, your lips unwilling to form the words, your mouth reluctant to speak it.
There’s a long pause as he stares at you. His furrowed brows soften, and he takes in the sight of you. You’re wearing his shirt, and it looks huge on you. He can see the outline of your soft panties through the material of it. You’ve got on fuzzy socks, long ones that cover most of your leg and your hair is set free.
You look shy. It’s something he doesn’t see often. You relish in dirty jokes and confident suggestiveness. You’re sarcastic, and you thrive on the sass you hand to him. Even during the times where he has your body in his hands, off on another rendezvous to release stress—his and yours—you still hold that glint of mischief and wit.
You look sad. You look sad and small, and he hates himself for making you look that way.
Miguel’s shoulders fall. He turns his body to face you, taking naturally large steps to stand in front of you. You have to crane your neck just to look up at him, but your disheartedness only allows you to reach his chest before giving up.
He raises a hand to your chin and lifts it just a little more so you can see his face, which he tilts down this time to better view you. He sighs and speaks softly, earnestly. “I want you here.”
You blink once, searching his face as your gaze shifts between his plump lips and his russet brown eyes. “Are you sure?”
He leans forward slowly, giving you time (partially because it’s quite the journey) before gently pressing his lips to yours. It’s far too gentle and far too sweet, but you relish it anyway. They’re gone just as quickly as they came as he pulls away just enough to break the kiss.
“I’m sure,” he says.It almost sounds pleading when he says, “Stay.”
His eyes examine your face for another couple of seconds before he steps away from you, lets his hands fall back down to his side. “I have a blanket you can use.”
You breathe a tiny chuckle out of your nose, effectively reassured by his warm and gentle plea. “Is it big?” you smile, considering his offer.
He shrugs a shoulder, beginning to turn on his heel when he shoots a rare smile at you over that same shoulder. “For you.”
It makes you giddy, your courage slowly returning. “I’m not that small.”
His back turned to you, he continues. “You’re right. You’re smaller.”
You roll your eyes at him, turning toward the counter again. You unscrew the wine bottle to begin pouring. You shake your head as you chuckle a little. “Oh, fuck off.”
He opens his tiny closet and pulls out a cream colored blanket (basically a thin duvet). He picks the remote up again, sitting on the sofa with his legs spread wide. He makes the couch look tiny. “You look even smaller in that. Mujer pequeña.”
You move into a pose, pretending to be sexy. “You like?” You wink comically at him.
He licks his bottom lip. “Are you going to sit?”he asks, avoiding the question.
You giggle to yourself, pouring the dark wine. “You love.” You carry the glasses to the sofa.
He's already started the movie, not that you mind. The music starts, the billowing of wind whistling in the background to set a spooky tone.
“The first song is literally saying it's Halloween,” he comments, lifting his hand from his lap, your feet kicking up and resting on his lap as you pass him his glass. He takes it and spreads open the blanket.
“Ugh,” you roll your eyes, “you make me sick.”
He lifts the glass to his lips. “You chose it.” He takes a sip from his glass, resting his hand on your ankle as his thumb strokes the skin over it.
You both sit and watch the movie in silence. You tuck the blanket closer. You sip tentatively at your cup as you direct your gaze at the screen. You miss the way Miguel's eyes linger on you, his gaze tracing the features of your face: the length of your nose, the curve of your lips. He memorizes the details of your face before he realizes he's been staring too long. He looks away.
Another little while passes of being hyperaware of you before he glances over again, noticing your glass go to your lips as you take a sip. He sighs silently. “Come here.”
You look at him, humming. He waves his hand invitingly, You move the blanket, setting your glass on the table. You sit next to him, snuggling into his side. He reaches over your body as his hand lands on your hip.
Miguel lifts you, pulling your body over his lap to straddle him. Your hands fall to his shoulders. He shows his affection the only way he knows how. He kisses you.
You hum lightly, pulling away from his lips and dipping your head, looking down at his chest instead of his eyes. You smile to cover your discontent as you lower your hands to his waist. “Is this why you wanted me to stay?”
His knuckles trace your cheek. “I want you to stay because, surprisingly, I enjoy your company,” he jokes.
You chuckle half-heartedly. “I'm like that.”
There's more quiet in the next pause as his eyes look over your face. “Why did you want to stay so bad?”
You look at him, biting your lower lip. “I told you.”
He rolls his eyes, chuckling lightly as his hands stroke your thighs, over the curve of your ass. “Yeah, ‘no one should be alone on Christmas’. But, like you said, Hobie’s got his party. You have plenty of friends there.” He glances over your face. “Why aren't you?”
You lick your lip, turning your head away. Another song plays quietly in the background, the sound of sleigh bells and horns and clarinets creating a holiday symphony behind you. You wanna gloat. “Ha, I was right. It is a Christmas movie.”
You sigh gently, the tips of your ears hot and the pit of your stomach fluttering.
“I don't want you to be alone.”
He takes a breath in, inclining his head just a bit as he considers your response. His eyes flutter as he stares at your face, seemingly entranced. You look back at him, unflinching.
“You're too nice to me.”
You smile. “I know.”
“You deserve better than me.”
Your eyes flutter at that and your heart stops beating for half a second. You're warm, and you laugh as you speak, “What's that mean?”
He glances away as he sighs, looking back at you with an expression that's almost pained. His heart is heavy in his chest, and he holds his breath a little when you lift your hands back to his shoulders.
“Don't make me say it,” he almost whispers, his eyes pleading. “Please don't make me say it.”
You hesitate, staring at him as your heart hammers against your chest. Your breath is thin. “Say what?”
“Corazón… I–” he breathes in, his voice reluctant, “–haven't said this in a long time.”
You move your hands from his shoulders to cup his face, making him look at you and taking away his option to turn the other way. If he's going to say it, you need to hear it. You need to be sure. “Said what, Miguel?”
He breathes, staring into your eyes and softening.
Tonight, he'll tell you.
“I'm in love with you.”
Silence strikes the room. The movie plays in the background, long forgotten in both your minds as the quiet and the tension drones on. Your skin prickles, your brain is fuzzy, your mouth is slightly agape.
Miguel stares at you, you do not blink. You stare at Miguel, he does not blink. The silence stretches. He's desperate.
“Please say something.”
“I love you.”
His heart pounds at the confession, but he doesn't believe it. This kind of thing doesn't happen. “N–”
“No. I love you, Miguel,” you promise, leaning closer to his face and holding him a little tighter. “I'm in love with you.”
His mouth crashes down upon yours, a clash of lips and teeth and tenderness and insistence. You moan lightly into his mouth, standing on your knees just enough to get some height on him as you kiss him back just as eagerly as he. Fire burns in your belly, in your face, licking at your flesh. Your hands tangle in his hair and fuel it.
He begins to turn you to lay you on the couch. You press on his chest, encouraging him back so he's on his own instead. His hands fall to your thighs as you straddle his waist, his shorts and your panties the only thing separating the two of you. You bend down against his body to continue kissing him with everything you have.
Miguel whispers your name against your lips, moreso when your hips grind against him. His hands smooth along your skin, dipping under his huge shirt on you to feel your waist with his gentle but insistent touch. Your hands roam his chest, feeling his soft skin over his hard muscles, enchanted by the way he feels under you. He relishes in your touch, hypnotized.
“Your hands are so small,” he mutters, his fingers lightly digging into your sides.
You chuckle lightly, losing your breath as you speak. “You’re just big.”
He smiles against your lips, his hands on your hips moving you slowly up and down on top of him. But, like you said, he’s big. Your hips grind over his belly, but the movement alone is enough to make you moan. You sigh heavily against his lips, pulling back just enough to speak as your brows knit together.
“Miguel,” you breathe. “I need you.”
He nods, reaching a hand to the back of your head to encourage you into another kiss. “I know, baby, I know,” he whispers. He opens his eyes to see you, and he loses his breath at the sight of you: disheveled with desire for him. You open your eyes to look at him, and he can see the way you gaze at him, like he’s everything to you.
His hand slips from your waist, down the length of your body until he’s dipping it between your legs. You bite your bottom lip as you moan at the way his fingers graze the thin fabric covering your pussy. Your whole body shudders at the feeling, and he just watches you react to him.
He rubs his finger teasingly over you, feeling as you slowly become more and more wet as he does. You grind your hips into his hand, eager to feel him. “You want my fingers in you, baby?” he says, his voice low and rough. “You want ‘em to stretch out this little pussy for my cock?”
“Please,” you mewl.
He's weak as he dips his finger underneath your panties and slips it past your folds, working it into you as he watches your lips part at the sensation. You grind against his hand, seeking more of him as his thick finger slowly moves in and out of your warmth. When you're slicked up enough, he slips another one inside. And then a third.
His fingers thrust in and out of you, slowly building in speed as he seeks out your delicious moans, the way your eyes flutter and your tongue darts out to lick your chapped lips.
“So pretty,” he mutters. “Your little moans sound so pretty, querida. I love them.”
You breathe soundly, squeezing around his thick fingers as he curls them inside of you. “Fuck, Miguel,” you moan. “Mm, keep going.”
He does, spreading you open with his fingers as he gets you nice and slick for him. His cock is painfully hard now, restrained by his shorts as it tents them. He feels like he'll explode just watching you. As you continue to grind your hips down on his hand, he shifts his thumb over your clit and begins to rub circles over it. “Mírate. See how beautiful you are, mi pequeña cosa?”
Your breath blows heavily through parted lips. His words play over and over in your head. “I'm in love with you. I'm in love with you. I'm in love with you.” You moan and hold the sides of his face, stroking your thumbs over his cheeks as the pleasure rises within you.
“‘M gonna cum,” you shudder, your pussy clenching around his fingers.
He curls his fingers some more, massaging them inside of you against that spongy spot he knows you adore. “Cum for me, chiquita.”
You do, mouth parting and eyes squeezing as the wave of pleasure washes over you. He feels you tighten and untighten around his fingers, encouraging your spasms by pumping them through it. You moan his name, slowly coming down from the pleasure as your hips jerk at the feeling of his fingers.
He pulls them out of you, bringing you down into another kiss as his lips slide against yours. “You did so good for me,” he sighs, leaning into you as you hum against him.
You pull at his shorts, pushing them down his thick thighs to get them off him. He actually helps you, kicking them off and leaving him bare as you continue to straddle him with his shirt draping low on your body.
You go to take it off, but he stops you, his hand on yours. “No,” he says. “You look perfect in it.”
He set his hands on your hips once more, raising you to hover over his cock. He stops, waiting for you. You want to kiss him again, biting your lip roughly as you whisper. “Please.” You stroke his face, “I need you.”
He’s weak. He can do nothing but comply as he lines you up with him, letting you down just enough to squeeze the head of him inside you. You moan, closing your eyes at the feeling as he holds you steady with a grunt. It’s you who lets him sink deeper inside, grinding your hips against his cock as you make him lower you.
He stretches you out, a delicious stretch you could never grow used to as you moan all the way down. When he’s buried to the hilt with you sitting properly above him, he groans. “Fuck, I love this little pussy,” he grunts. “You always take me so well.”
You huff, catching your breath as you roll your hips slightly, shuddering at the pleasure. “So big,” you mutter, gripping his hips as you give yourself another moment to get used to his size before rolling your hips again. The feeling is electric, sets off a deep hunger in your belly that has you grinding down on him so desperately.
“You like that?” he breathes. “‘Course you do. My tiny girl loves it when I stretch her out like this.”
You roll your hips over him, moaning as his cock presses deep inside of you. His hands slip underneath your shirt, feeling your waist as he helps you grind down on him. Your rhythm is slow and measured, feeling everything. Every little roll, every little squeeze, every little ridge of his cock dragging against your walls.
“Fuck, you’re so big,” you moan again, relishing in him.
He smiles, continuing to watch as you fall apart on top of him. You feel him sit up, one of his hands wrapping tightly around your waist. You open your eyes to look at him, whimpering when he slips his cock out of you.
“Shh,” he says, flipping you onto your back as his massive body towers over you, his size that of a predator but the gentleness of his touch and the care in his eyes that of a man who loves a woman. “I’m gonna take care of you, mi corazón.”
His eyes stay glued to yours when he thrusts back in. Both your moans rumble in your throats as you watch each other. He rocks his hips back and forth inside you, thrusting so deep and pulling out so far before doing it all over again.
He holds onto your tight as he fills you with his cock, so wrapped up in you as you moan and squeeze around him. The pace, still slow, picks up as he thrusts deep within you, grinding against the deepest part of you with a groan in the back of his throat.
You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you bury your face in his chest. “Fuck, that’s good,” you whisper.
He manages to kiss your forehead, his hand slipping underneath you to encourage his steady rhythm as you continue to clench. His other hand finds your clit, rubbing slow circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves as he builds you up for another orgasm.
You tense, your walls fluttering around him at the feeling of his thumb on your clit. He grunts at the feeling of it, ready to fall apart as he watches you. “I love you, mi amor.” You shudder at the words. “I love your little body. I love your little smile. I love your little eyes. I love your stupid little jokes and the way…the way you care about me too much.”
You cradle his face in your hands, melting at his confessions. “I love you,” he says again, his voice spent and his breath speeding up as you squeeze around his cock and moan his name like a spell.
“Miguel, I…” you moan, the pleasure building into a knot in your stomach as you get ready to explode. You breathe in and you keep breathing in as he presses a little harder on your clit, circles a little harder as you clench him so tight.
Your eyes shut and your lips part as you come, moaning loudly as the ecstasy washes over you like a crashing wave. You roll your hips up into the pleasure, whimpering when he presses himself as deeply inside of you as he can go, grinding and intensifying every little feeling.
Miguel almost collapses on top of you when he cums, dropping his head down and grunting with a heavy breath as he spills inside of you, nearly fucking into you as he does. He moans something under his breath, all his muscles tensing as he keeps pumping his cock into you. You wrap your legs around his waist to pull him in closer.
It’s a while before you both come down, catching your breaths as the pleasure wanes and leaves a pleasant buzz in your bones. He pulls out of you, and you whimper at the sudden emptiness.
He sits up to pull some of his weight off you, though you keep him down by his waist to feel his body still looming over you. He brushes his fingers over your forehead, your heavy eyelids fluttering open.
“Fuck,” you sigh, looking up at him with a sticky smile. You readjust yourself so you can see his face better, taking it in your hands and pulling him down to kiss his lips. The kiss is soft, a gentle embrace as you take your time to pour your care into it.
“I love you, too,” you whisper back at him, kissing him again and then whispering it once more. He smiles. It’s a slow and small smile that spreads over his lips. For a moment, he forgets about all the fears and pains and dangers of love and just thinks about you. How much he loves you. He kisses you again.
“And I was fuckin’ right,” you smile, a gentle chuckle in your chest.
He hums. “About?”
“It is a fuckin’ Christmas movie.”
It takes him a moment to realize what you were talking about. It’s just then when he remembers the movie still playing in the background, another slow song in the background from the one girl that was meant to be a play on Frankenstein’s monster. He doesn’t remember her name, he wasn’t paying much attention.
He laughs. It isn’t a small laugh either. He throws his head and closes his eyes as a loud, booming laugh erupts from his chest and fills the room. It’s so genuine and so electric, you can’t help your own as you join his excitement.
You both laugh for a while, calming down enough for him to kiss you again and say, “You are right.” He takes a breath, staring down at you with a wide smile. “It is a fuckin’ Christmas movie.”
You giggle again, sighing deeply as you pull his weight down on top of you (though he still holds most of it to keep from crushing your tiny body). You hum, speaking in a quiet whisper. “I love you.”
Miguel wraps you in his arms and turns you both around so you’re laying on top of him. He pulls the blanket from where it had fallen on the floor and spreads it over your body, slipping his hand under your shirt so he touches your bare back.
“Merry Christmas,” he mutters, letting out a slow breath. “I love you.”
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tbgkaru-woh · 4 months
Text
100 Dialogue prompts
Trying this out (feel free to tweak out any grammatical errors) so writers who are bored, have at it! ♥ Mix of Fluff, Angst and Smut
“I don’t see you that way”
“I will just do as I’m told. As I’ve always done”
“Have you never ridden a bike/horse before?”
“You don’t have to be so…formal”
“What happened to us?”
“Good things don’t happen to me”
“Interested in palm reading?”
“Bowing to you felt right”
“There, let me help you.”
“Next time, listen to yourself and not me”
“Why do you want to get in trouble so badly?”
“It’s him/her…isn’t it?”
“Are you keeping it?”
“Good to see a familiar face”
“You never had to ask me anything, let alone beg”
“Oh you again?!”
“I need to take you somewhere”
“With you gone, everything went wrong”
“Insufferable, see you at dinner”
“I wasn’t kissing you, I was saving your life!”
“You did all this already, why not finish the job?”
“I will look for you”
“I couldn’t see anything, I couldn’t breathe”
“You knew about it?”
“I will atone for what he/she did”
“You need to start having some faith.”
“Say what you want, I know what I’m feeling is right”
“It’s okay, you will move on. We will move on.”
“How much do you miss him/her? And what if you didn’t have to?”
“Focus on my hands, on my voice…”
“Perhaps you need to be reminded where you belong”
“I was fine having a non-sexual relationship with you, but instead I’m having non-relationship sex with him/her.”
“I wanted to do it for you and in hindsight it was a terrible idea”
“I’ve been inside him/her more than outside him/her”
“Don’t ask me with ‘please’, you’re paying me”
“Oh why won’t you just die already”
“Sometimes I wonder for how long have you wanted his/her heart and if you will ever stop”
“Filthy cheater, we go again!”
“Didn’t you pay your debt already?”
“I can’t get sick/injured.”
“You act like you’ve never been defeated”
“Diamond thrown into the trash still has the value of a diamond”
“I got engaged”
“All this was decided for me, I had no choice”
“I’m beginning to think not even the jail guards/cops want you around, given how many times they’ve let me bail you out”
“You, sir/madam, should watch your alcohol intake”
“I’ve been denying everyone, you’re not special”
“I’m not looking for a romance”
“Isn’t that immoral enough to tempt you?”
“We’re two sides of the same fucked up coin”
“That’s what I like to see, you are your parents’ best indeed!”
“You have nothing to lose right?”
“Oh I can’t wait to hear you sing”
“Anything you’d like to add to the conversation?”
“Hi.”
“You need to stop making me pick you up in places someone may see”
“I thought I was a puppeteer pulling the strings but instead I was a back seat audience”
“I want names, I want addresses, I’m gonna make them pay.”
“You know where to find me if you ever want me again.”
“My mother is visiting in like 5 minutes”
“Is it that, or is it because you’re in love with me?”
“Not being able to reciprocate has been the hardest part of my life”
“Did you kill someone?”
“Envious of my youth, are we?”
“The others may have gotten away…”
“I found you. Found you looking like you didn’t want to be found”
“Did we use to be a thing?”
“I can fix this. I can fix this…”
“Weird question, are you a supernatural being? Be honest”
“We should have never played Gods”
“Must you be so harsh with me all the time?”
“What did all these men/women do to deserve you?”
“We have a reputation to uphold”
“May I have this dance?”
“I am a bad influence on you!”
“Let’s make history”
“Who the hell wants to live forever.”
“Feeling any different?”
“Time waits for no one”
“You got your happy-ever-after. And for all I know, it’s because I didn’t.”
“Try that again and you’re gonna lose it”
“Didn’t I say one of these days you’re gonna be the death of me?”
“Do you know what my answer was?”
“You look pathetic.”
“Almost didn’t recognize your voice when it’s not yelling at me”
“I often find myself talking to those no longer here as well”
“Excuse me, this is not a buffet”
“I don’t suspect you because I’m the one who put him/her in the ground”
“You look like someone who likes a good gamble”
“I am poison”
“Feel free to stay as long as you need”
“You don’t need to understand, just be a good little thing”
“I’m gonna need your driver’s license, your ID and your phone number please~”
“Say my name”
“You…are telling the truth”
“Is that why you did that? Back there?”
“Stop reading my mind”
“I can teach you”
“How can you laugh?”
“Pretty pictures. I don’t have any”
“Heaven may fall, but __ can’t die.”
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