#forever feel like he is treated so unfairly by the people around him

[philliamwrites]

pairing: Eren x fem! Reader x Armin

warnings: ‼️18 +, minors do NOT interact‼️, threesome, penetrative vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (fem. receiving), aftercare, name calling (baby, cum bucket like once but affectionately because it’s eren)

a/n: reuploading because tumblr is mean to me again. the sequel to this one, but ngl unfortunately not as good bcs i let too much time pass. i’ll do better next time! enjoy!

Eren is a great friend.

Sure, sometimes he forgets birthdays and asks about things people have told him multiple times already. Memes are his love language, and he’s still waiting for Historia to unblock his number after his response to her almost breaking up with Ymir was ‘That’s so sad, Alexa play Despacito.’

Yet still, Eren is a great friend, because he’s known Armin has had a crush on you since forever, and to you, Armin is one of your most favourite people—right after him of course—so naturally, Eren has always encouraged you to dive into your little fantasies. Everyone assumes Eren is possessive and yes, he is, but he is also very, very much in love with you (he’s a true simp, what can he say) and if what you need to be fucked dumb is Armin involved, who is Eren to say No. That is what makes him the best partner.

What makes him a great friend is that he knows Armin is still a virgin, and it’s finally time to change that.

“First time for everyone,” Eren says, patting your quivering knee affectionately. When you throw him a mean, tear-glazed glare, he digs his nails into your warm thigh. “Makes it less scary, doesn’t it?”

“Shut,” you say, lifting your hips, fingers clawing at Armin’s shoulders. His cock drags along your tight walls, catches at your tight rim that milks his tip before you slide back down until he’s balls deep inside you. “Up.”

Eren takes a quick glance at Armin to see if he’s sharing your attitude, but he’s on cloud nine, his expression one of pure bliss: eyes squeezed shut, his round cheeks flushed red like ripe apples. A tiny drop of sweat runs down his temple and Eren feels the overwhelming urge to lean over and lick it up.

“How’s she doing, Armin?” he purrs, allowing his broad hand to wander up Armin’s shaking thighs. His fingers graze Armin’s heavy, tight balls, and the light touch has Armin throw back his head, throat bobbing as he swallows. “She treating you well?”

“’S so .. so good.” Heart eyes trailing over your face, Armin’s hands scramble for purchase on your tits, your thighs, your ass. He’s so overwhelmed, the feeling of his sensitive shaft being engulfed by tight, wet, pulsing walls is better than he could have ever imagined. It’s like you’re trying desperately to milk him for all he’s worth, to hold his dick captive within the confines of your velvety, warm insides.

“Yeah, yeah she’s always doing so good.” Eren’s pats your knee and gives your shoulder a wet, open-mouthed kiss. “Could put a little more work into it though. Don’t start slacking off now, babe.” He digs his fingers into your soft skin, eyes glued to where you’re connected to Armin.

You level him with a glare, one that does a poor job delivering your annoyance with him because it’s difficult to keep your eyes from rolling to the back of your head whenever Armin’s leaking tip presses a hard kiss against your cervix. He’s by no means as big as Eren, but for someone who’s never had sex before, he makes it up with desperate roles of his hips, little sharp thrusts that are unrelenting in their pursuit to make you drown in pleasure.

Especially now that his blunt tip is constantly grazing the bundle of nerves inside you, it’s hard to focus on anything despite the jolts it sends up your spine, the core of pleasure just below your belly growing tighter and tighter.

You try to find hold around Armin’s shoulders, your mouth hanging wide open. Armin is wearing a mirror expression of your own, looking unfairly adorable with the drool sticking to the corners of his beautiful, kiss-swollen mouth.

Lost in the thought of how pretty he is, so adorable that you simply want to devour him, your tempo falters, the sound of skin slapping against skin growing quiet as your hips take a break and you lean forward to drink up all the pretty moans and groans Armin grants you from his lips.

A warm chest presses against your back. Eren nips at your neck, teeth grazing the soft, heated skin. “Look at him, Armin’s so fucked out because of you,” he mumbles, voice deep and throaty and sweet like honey. His broad hands grip your waist, fingers digging painfully into your skin. “But don’t you stop now, you hear,” he demands, lifting you up only to slam you back down, getting split open by Armin’s dick. You throw your head back, stars exploding behind your closed eyes. His lips pressed against the shell of your ear, Eren’s voice sounds strained. “You’re not done yet, baby. You gotta make him cum. You gotta make him cum for the first time inside a pussy.”

Armin shakes under you, the pleasure overwhelming and too much. Everything he’s ever dreamt of is right in front of his eyes, so close and ready to touch. He lets Eren move you on top of him as he pleases, allows his own curious hands to roam your supple body, digs his fingers into wherever your soft skin gives under his touch. They find your tits, your perked nipples and his mouth waters, he needs them in his mouth, he needs to give them kitten-licks and love-bites since there are no words in this world that will suffice to convey how much he loves you, your body, your mind, so all that is left for him to do is let his actions speak, repay your kindness by making you feel good.

If Armin can make you cum, he can die a happy man.

That thought alone, that the pleasure you receive is his doing, that the cock currently stirring up your insides is his, shoots an electric bolt of pleasure through him that makes his toes curl against the mattress.

“I—I’m so close,” he whines, and hopes Eren understands what he’s beginning for; hopes you will finally give him the sweet, sweet release he’s been craving for ever since he’s heard Eren fuck you in the other room two days ago.

“You hear? He’s close.” Eren holds your hips still as Armin thrusts his up in a vicious pace, eyes shut tightly, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes as he batters into your sensitive, swollen cunt. “He’s so close, you can’t leave him hanging, okay? You’ll take everything he gives you, okay? Make him cum, make Armin cum inside you.”

Eren’s demand has your back arching, Armin crying out desperately. You’re barely aware that you’re mumbling incoherent sentences, jumbled words that first say “Hmm no, not inside” first, and then at the slightest change of angle of Armin’s dick, you plead “I want you so bad, Armin, please fill me up.”

Armin’s grip on you is painful, desperate. “I—I shouldn’t,” he whimpers, but he doesn’t slow down, keeps hammering his weeping dick inside your cunt.

“Yes. Do it.” You barely recognise Eren’s voice, so full of lust, desire, desperation. His dick, hard and hot, slides against your ass in short, quick thrusts. “She loves it. Loves being a cum bucket.”

You groan. Or Armin groans. Or maybe it is Eren, or all three of you at the same time. Your hands scramble to hold onto something, find Armin’s waiting and you entangle them, holding tight onto each other as you’re about to come undone.

“But you have to ask her properly, Amin,” Eren continues, hooking his chin over your shoulder to watch Armin’s face drunk with pleasure. “Come on, ask her.”

Armin’s beautiful baby blue eyes rivet on you. His tongue darts out and you watch with fascination how it swipes over his bottom lip, leaving a wet, glossy trail. “C-can I cum inside you? P-please.”

“Yes! Yes, please, please, please do it. Cum inside me, Armin.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His whole body shakes when he feels you squirm, beg, demand for him—it’s all too much too quick. The well of pleasure quickly builds inside him. Head swelling, he feels his cock grow more sensitive quick, pulse by pulse, thrust by eager thrust, his tight grip onto your hands erratic and needy, all he can do is whine and whimper as his thickening length pumps a last few times into you before settling deep, followed quickly by burst after burst of spreading heat in his stomach, able to follow its trail from his tensing balls past your thoroughly-fucked entrance, then jetting deep in your guts.

Eren yanks your hips down, not allowing a single drop to spill as your whole body shakes; legs quiver, toes cramp up, pussy pulsing and milking Armin so hard you curl over him, squeezing your eyes shut tightly as overwhelming torrents of pleasure wreck your body.

Your hips still rock gently against him, your pussy his home now, and you entangle your fingers from his only to lift them and wipe the tears from his soft cheeks, to kiss him and tell him what a great job he did and “Thank you, thank you, you were so great.”

Something inside Eren’s heart swells at the sight of it, his best friend and you together and so soft with each other. His arm circles around your waist, lifts you and he grins cheekily at the little surprised yelp from you when he quickly jams two fingers inside you to stop Armin’s cum from leaking out.

“Why so surprised?” He laughs, turning you around so your back is pressed against Armin’s rapidly rising and falling chest. He manhandles you so easily as if you are nothing but a ragdoll and alignes your swollen, still sensitive entrance once more with Armin’s slick-glistening, soft shaft.

“E-Eren, wait,” Armin protests weakly, throwing his head back and swallowing another grunt as Eren pushes his spent, overstimulated dick back inside your warm folds, now drenched in his cum.

“She can give us one more,” Eren says, and the way he talks about you as if you’re not there, as if you don’t have any say in how much they can use you makes your walls clench once more. Armin curses, his hands finding your bruise-littered hips but he doesn’t make a move to pull you off.

Eren leans over your shoulder, pressing his forehead against Armin’s. “You were so good,” he mumbles, bumping their noses against each other. He gives Armin a slow, intense kiss, all tongue and teeth but with no hurry at all. “Good boy.”

Armin’s face, where it presses right against the side of yours, grows hot. You can feel his dick give a weak twitch inside you.

He is so putty in Eren’s hands, allowing him to move one of his hands to your ass, spreading one cheek slightly, the other circles around the hook of your right knee, lifting it up until it’s pressed against your tit, giving Eren a full view of Armin and you connected, your swollen pussy stretching around him.

“And you,” he finally says to you, kissing your cheek, your jaw, your chin. “Did such a great job as well, making Armin feel good.” Eren leans away from you, looking down at your stretched pussy. He gives his dick, still hard and an angry red, a few quick, desperate pumps, shuffling closer against you until he can tap the blunt, leaking tip of his cock against your clit.

“Think we can both fit?”

Your body reacts in an instant, clenching hard around Armin. He tightens his hold around you, groaning.

“Maybe next time,” Eren continues, eyes glued to your cunt mouthing at Armin, still milking him, demanding more more more, “next time when Armin fucks you, I’ll bully my fingers inside you. Train you to take two cocks at some point.”

He drags his cock over your wet pussy a few more times, allows his tip to press gently against your hole. Eren can already feel it, how easily his cock would pop inside you, your cunt tugging his ridge, so thirsty for him, how amazing it would feel to be pressed right against your walls and Armin’s dick.

Eren bends over and sticks his tongue out, flat, so your hips roll your pussy right against him, making your clit hump his tongue, dragging it sharply over it. Your legs involuntarily squirm, kicking lightly nowhere and your toes trying to curl onto anything they could. Your fingers rake through his hair, pull and tug because you need him closer.

Eren jerks himself off while you get off on his tongue for a second orgasm, tight walls imprisoning and holding Armin’s dick like a vice as he whines at the overstimulation, fingernails dragging over the back of your thigh.

Quickly, Eren rises and smashes his mouth against yours where you taste him, yourself, Armin, making it so messy because he whispers “I love you, I love,” while trying to shove his tongue inside your mouth. He cums all over your pussy, presses his pulsing, jerking tip right against your hole right next to Armin’s shaft so his cum mixes with Armin’s inside you.

A moment of rest settles over the room. You catch your breaths, allow your lust-fogged minds to return to the present. Eren pushes himself off you, helps you lift your exhausted body off Armin and you all three watch in fascination the pool of cum leaking from your used hole.

Eren whistles. Armin cries out like a hurt animal and dives for the box of tissues on your nightstand, hurrying to clean you up. “Sorry, oh God, I’m so so sorry, I—I didn’t mean to—” Though he really did. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Armin, it’s fine,” you say, flopping into your back and ready to dose off for a couple minutes. “It felt amazing, really. I wanted it.”

His eyes catch yours for a second before they return to the task at hand and you feel goosebumps rise up your arms at how gently he opens your legs to clean you. “Okay,” he says so quietly you almost don’t hear him, “I’ll give you more next time.”

Heat crawls up your face. “Next time?”

You look over at Eren who’s leaning against the wall, already reaching for his phone to fulfil his promise at the beginning of all this and order some pizza. He wiggles his eyebrows and makes grabby hands at you, grinning. “Next time.”

[pleasantlyinsincere]

David Cassidy on John from Could it be forever? -My Story

During that time, I also got to know one of my musical heroes, John Lennon. When he split with Yoko and was with May Pang, I spent some time in LA with him at Elliot Mintz's house and spent a little time chatting with him. We subsequently had dinner together a couple of times. We'd go to the Imperial Gardens so we could be in a private room where no one would bother us. Later I flew back to New York twice and spent a little time with Yoko. She is very bright and I liked her a lot. I think she was treated unfairly by the media and the public. She provided a real grounding for John and a place to feel safe. She loved him for who she was, not because he was a Beatle. I later found the same thing with my wife, Sue. [...] During the last year of Partridge Family, 1974, John continued making the Rock'n'Roll album. I saw Elliot all the time and John and I would pass messages back and forth to each other through him. John came over to my house in Encino on New Year's eve 1974 or 1975, when I had just finished my world tour. Susan Dey was there and I had fallen asleep at around midnight on her lap. Elliot and John showed up and they had been drinking and celebrating. Susan woke me up and said, 'David, I think there is a Beatle in the house.' After slurring a few words to each other, John and I decided to play some music. So we went to my music room, where I had all my guitars, and we sat on the floor and I began playing the Beatles' song Any Time at All. It was one of my favorites. That and Mr. Moonlight. And John was like, 'Oh, I can't remember that.' He had written hundreds of songs since then. So I sort of re-taught him the chord structure. We sang it together and I did Paul's part. It was like being a Beatle for a moment. I was fulfilling a dream I'd had when I was 13, learning Beatles' songs on my first guitar after seeing them on the Ed Sullivan show. You don't forget some of the first songs you learn. We started playing rock'n'roll songs, stuff by Chuck Berry like Nadine. John loved all that Chuck Berry stuff and he knew it much better than I did. It didn't sound very good, we were drinking, laughing and just stumbling through it. I played him a song I had just written and he started playing me stuff that he was working on. [...] I had an interesting relationship with John. I related to him because of his abandonment issues and creativity. He was kind enough to give me inside into what I was about to go through. He'd been there and done that and was in the process of demystifying himself. Once we were having lunch together, he invited me to come to A&M studios where he was recording the Rock'n'Roll album. He asked me if I wanted to play with the other musicians. I did go but it was so crowded and almost every great guitar player you can think of was there. Harry Nilsson, Cher and lots of other people were there, too. At the time I didn't want to be part of the circus. I only stayed for around 15 minutes, although in hindsight I probably should have played. John had a fabulous sense of humour. He was more dedicated to the things he believed in than anyone I can think of. He wasn't seduced by greed. We only spoke briefly about Paul and his comments at the time were, 'Yeah, well, you know, that's just Paul.' I think John was deeply hurt by their differences and the fact that their partnership wasn't a partnership. He felt the competition with Paul who would come in with 15 songs and want to record them all. John told me, 'I don't want to be in, you know, "Paul & the Beatles". I don't want to be a sideman for Paul. It's not what I want to do anymore.' John Lennon had a very strong influence on me by giving me advice on how to start trying to live a normal life again. How do I find a way to walk down the street or go to a restaurant and not be paranoid? We talked a lot about that. There were certain things that I could say to him and he could say to me that no other people on earth could understand except perhaps the other Beatles and Elvis.

[hylianmewmew]

nothing short of shiny: ravio x link wing bois au

big s/o to @breannasfluff for the amazing au and for helping me find a prompt <33

“Please, please, please! I will bribe you with pastries if you come with me.” Ravio fluffed his wings dramatically, giving Legend puppy eyes as he tugged on Legend’s sleeve. “It’s such a nice day and my favorite merchant, besides myself of course, is in town and she always has really good trinkets.”

Legend rolled his eyes, “Alright dearest, fine. You win.” He placed a kiss on Ravio’s forehead who chittered happily. It was near impossible for Legend to resist Ravio’s puppy eyes which he unfairly used to convince Legend to partake in his plans. This usually consisted of adding more blue elements to the house much to Legend’s dismay. He would do anything for his partner but he could only handle so much blue.

If the Chain knew how much of a soft spot he had for Ravio’s demanding puppy eyes they would never let him live it down. This was a secret he would rather keep to himself, Ravio gave him enough of a hard time about it. 

“Come, come! Let’s get going! I need to be there to snag the best deals early on.” Ravio bounced on the balls of his feet impatiently as Legend pulled on his boots. With some restraint he resisted dragging Legend out of the house and off to town, skipping at Legend’s side. Absolutely nothing got Ravio going like a good deal, especially on trinkets and anything blue. Legend found it adorable how enthusiastic about haggling Ravio became, his determination to get a good deal on a new shiny was unmatched. How Ravio gushed about his new shiny object for days, displaying it proudly in the house for everyone to see. With the two of their hoarding tendencies combined their house was more museum than house according to Warriors. Legend found the abundance of items comforting, reminding him he had a safe place to call home. It felt nice.

Town was bustling with activity, people everywhere chatting and having fun at the market. Ravio skipped around, bouncing from booth to booth with Legend trailing behind just enjoying Ravio’s energy. The atmosphere was cheerful and the smells of food and fresh flowers danced through the air. Legend was instantly drawn towards a booth selling bread and pastries. He absolutely had to have some, especially the turnovers. Sweet Hylia did he love a good turnover, raspberry or apple were his favorites but there wasn’t a bad turnover filling flavor. 

Ravio peeked over Legend resting his head on Legend’s shoulder. “You better buy me a treat if you’re getting turnovers. It’s only fair after all. I think I want a lemon tart!” He paused, getting distracted by another vendor shouting about their wares.

“Yeah, yeah we both know your sweet tooth is just as bad as mine. There’s no ‘fair’ about this little scheme of yours. You just don’t want to be the one to pay for it.” Legend grumbled, handing over rupees to pay for their pastries. Let’s go find somewhere to sit down, my knees are starting to bother me plus I hate eating while walking. Reminds me of traveling.”

A bench on the edge of the market, shaded by a large maple tree was all but calling out to Legend. He really needed to rest for a bit. They sat down, Ravio immediately latching onto Legend’s side, munching on his tart happily. 

Ravio kissed Legend’s cheek, “Thank you for buying me a treat, my love. I feel so special when you do things like this even if I ask for it.”

“You’re such a sap! Of course I’m going to treat you the best I possibly can, I love you and want to show I care. Even when you get crumbs on my cheek from kissing me midway through your tart.” Legend bumped Ravio with his shoulder gently causing Ravio to chirp contentedly. Sweet treats and spending time with his partner, Legend’s heart was so full and happy. If only he could bottle up this moment and savor it forever. FInishing their pastries, Legend felt a new burst of energy ready to browse the rest of the market.

Gerudo silks, Goron gemstones, warm Rito blankets, which Legend was absolutely buying one. Everything was so colorful and unique. Ravio tugged Legend along, examining every little object that caught his eye. They bounced from booth to booth, taking their time at each. Out of the corner of Legend’s eye a red pie dish caught his attention, the ceramic dish had a scene of an apple orchard in the center, this was the absolute perfect pie dish. He’d been looking for a new one ever since Wild accidentally broke his old one. This was meant to be. 

“Oh that’s so perfect for you! I’ll buy it for you, but my requirement is that you must bake me an apple pie. I expect the most delicious pie from you and your apples!” Ravio fluttered his wings excitedly.

“Deal, and I was already intending on baking as many pies as we can stand. So this is a bonus. Thank you, love.” Legend gave Ravio a quick kiss on the cheek, giving a call. ‘Love you, care for you.’

With the perfect pie dish cradled in Legend’s arms they carried on, stopping at a booth selling jewelry and magical items. Ravio was busy chatting with the merchant, fully invested in the thrill of haggling a good price for a pair of opal earrings. Legend smiled, watching his partner be so passionate and lively. He looked back down at the display, a brilliant sapphire bracelet sparkled in the sunlight casting specks of reflected light on the table. This was perfect for Ravio, Legend looked over to him who was still thoroughly invested in his haggling. A perfect opportunity to surprise him later. He quickly paid the other merchant and tucked it away in his pocket.

⟡ ⟡ ⟡

The sky had begun to turn a lovely orange hue, puffy clouds dotting the horizon as they walked back to the house. Crickets were singing in the warm summer air, it was blissfully serene. Ravio laced his fingers with Legend’s and swung their arms back and forth. 

“Thank you for coming with me, I had a good time. And I expect that apple pie! I’m not letting you go back on your word for that.” Ravio giggled, tucking a stray hair behind Legend’s ear. He pressed their foreheads together, humming happily. 

“I always enjoy spending time with you, silly bird. I will definitely bake you that pie, maybe tomorrow. It’s getting late and we should start on dinner. I was thinking we could make veggie curry, how does that sound?” Legend began starting the stove’s fire as he got ready to cook. 

Ravio nodded and scurried over to the pantry, grabbing ingredients for the curry. They worked in comfortable silence, just enjoying each other’s company. It was moments like these, purely domestic and peaceful that Legend enjoyed the most. Moments where Hylia wasn’t up his ass about saving the world for the umpteenth time. Not having to risk his life to save a world that would eventually fall to evil once more. The pressure of being the Hero of Legend was null when he was with Ravio. With him, he was just Link. 

Dinner was delicious, Legend did most of the cooking but Ravio was happy to assist. After eating, the small comfort of Legend resting his head in Ravio’s lap as he knitted a sweater lulled him to sleep, dreaming of cotton clouds and spending time with his beloved.

⟡ ⟡ ⟡

Sunlight poured in through the windows, bathing the covers in warmth. Ravio mumbled something in his sleep, laying with his head on Legend’s chest and hand resting next to his cheek. Another comfortable morning, Legend yawned and nuzzled his face into Ravio’s hand. 

Ravio moaned sleepily, blinking the sleep from his eyes. “Good morning bunny. Did you sleep ok?”

“Surprisingly yeah, I always sleep better with you next to me but being in a real nest also helps. I did have a dream that we turned into flying bunnies which was odd but it was kind of cute.” Legend played with Ravio’s hair as he spoke softly, the sleepiness still in his voice. “Was thinking we could bake the pie today and I think the garden could do with some attention. Nothing too big for today, feeling achy from all the walking yesterday.”

“Yes, yes I'm glad you haven't forgotten already about the pie. I’m so excited to try it, you're a much better baker than I am.” Ravio sighed, letting out a set of relaxed chirps.

This earned a chuckle from Legend, Ravio wasn't inept in the kitchen but he much preferred Legend’s food than his own. Either from laziness or genuine appreciation for his cooking, but it didn't matter to Legend. He was just happy he could do it together regardless of how much Ravio helped or didn't. It was just another way they could spend time with each other. Something Legend sorely missed on the road with the Chain.

With the windows open the summer breeze felt amazing, feathers swaying just slightly. Legend spread his wings, absorbing the cool air. The garden was flourishing, the small patch of veggies was growing nicely. The majority of produce Ravio sold, keeping only a small amount for themselves. There was something so rewarding about growing your own food, it made sense to Legend why the apple orchard had made his uncle so happy. It now made him happy too.

Legend stood from his crouching position where he had been weeding, stretching his stiff muscles. “If you could grab some apples, Rav, that would be much appreciated. I’m going to go inside, clean up and start on the pie crust.”

“Of course bunny, I’ll grab a good handful.” Ravio kissed Legend on the cheek before bouncing off to the orchard.

Off to the kitchen after he cleaned up, Legend got to work. He began pulling out ingredients and starting the fire for the oven. Flour, salt, butter, lard: kneading everything together and shaping the crust. Baking felt so natural, something Legend was good at and very much enjoyed. It also came with the bonus of him fulfilling his sweet tooth. He’s convinced his aggressive sweet tooth rubbed off on Ravio, both of them never passing up anything sweet. When traveling with the Chain there wasn’t time for baking, just simple filling meals that Wild could easily make in bulk for them. Baked goods became a small slice of home for Legend, whenever they were in a town he made sure to stop by a bakery. Anything to remind him of Ravio and their home. Much to Legend’s surprise, Malon had picked up on his love of sweet things and baked with him whenever the Chain was in Time’s Hyrule. 

It was really nice of Malon, helping relieve just a small bit of homesickness. But he was home now, and didn’t know for how long. He was determined to make the most of it. Legend stared at the pie dish, making him smile. He loved that this was from Ravio, regardless of it being part of a bargain or not. It added to the charm. Gently kneading and rolling the dough flat, he laid it in the pie dish and popped it in the oven to cook just enough. 

“I’m back! I couldn’t remember how many you needed so I picked a decent amount. I’m so so happy. I love your pies almost as much as I love you.” Ravio set the apples down on the counter with a huge grin on his face.

“You’re such a dork,” Legend took his flour covered hands and squished Ravio’s cheeks between his hands making Ravio squeal. This devolved into a flour fight, dusting each other with handfuls of flour in between butterfly kisses and fits of giggles. The kitchen was a disaster, flour coating every surface, including their hair and clothes. Apples still sitting on the counter, forgotten in the playful battle. 

Ravio let out a final giggle when Legend kissed his flour covered cheek. “Ok, I’ll clean up our disaster if you finish up our pie, baker boy. I’m craving it even more now.”

They settled into a quiet groove, working around each other with ease. With the pie in the oven and the kitchen clean again Ravio collapsed on the sofa with a large over dramatic sigh, leaving Legend alone in the kitchen. Now was the time to give Ravio the bracelet. He’d hoped to give it to him after the pie was done but Legend was getting impatient and Ravio seemed like he was going to fall asleep at any second. Legend walked quietly to his desk in the corner of the living room where he had stashed the bracelet in one of the drawers. He plopped down next to Ravio who grunted sleepily.

“Hey Rav.” Legend nudged Ravio’s shoulder with his body. “I have a surprise for you, unless you’re too sleepy for me to give it to you.” Teasing him with the prospect of a new shiny was always enough for Ravio to wake up, eagerly awaiting whatever was presented to him.

Ravio bolted upright from his slouched position on the sofa, a wondrous gleam in his eyes as he watched Legend pull the sapphire bracelet from the small pouch. “No way. No way you got me that. Link.” Tears began to fill his eyes, flicking his gaze from the bracelet to Legend’s massive grin. He launched himself at Legend, hugging him tight. “Thank you bunny, I love it so much. And I love you more.”

Legend kissed Ravio softly, pulling away only for a moment. “Of course, even though it pained me to buy something so blue. I did it for you, and I’d do so, so much more for you too.” He smiled as Ravio kissed him again as payback for the snarky comment about the bracelet’s beautifully blue sapphire. “Let’s go eat some pie now then!”

[kaseyskat]

lovesong 38 for the kiss prompt pwease nyxie <3

(#38 - a kiss because they're running out of time)

~~~

"You're going to break up with me."

The way Nick says it has Sparrow flinching, even as they sit together in Nick's bedroom, hiding from the rest of the world. You're wrong, he wants to say more than anything, but the words die on his tongue, and all he can do is turn his head, stare at his partner.

Nick is staring straight ahead, not looking at anything. His hair hides his expression, and with the way his hands are folded in his lap, his shoulders slumped, Sparrow knows he's already accepted it; that this night will be their last, one way or another.

"Yeah," he finally admits, and he breathes deep through his nose and exhales through his mouth, just like his father taught him. "I... you know I don't want to, but..."

"Your family," Nick says flatly. This, too, almost has Sparrow wince: over the two years they've been seeing each other in secret, he had finally gotten the soft side of Nick, the side of him he hadn't let anyone else see. It hurts now, being treated just like the rest of their friend group.

"My family." Sparrow slumps now too, and he stares at the floor- it hurts too much to look at Nick any longer, to see someone he loves so withdrawn. "I don't want to hurt you, starling."

"You could never hurt me," Nick says, quietly, but he doesn't sound entirely convinced.

It's not true, anyways. All my brother and I know how to do is hurt people. Still, Sparrow swallows, and he hesitantly reaches out one hand, placing it over Nick's in his lap without looking at him in the process.

"It doesn't have to be tonight," he murmurs, tentative and soft, hesitant. "Will you... will you spend one more night with me?" Please. I don't want this either.

Sparrow has never prioritized his own wants over the needs of others, especially when it comes to his father and Lark and the mess of the world they've made together. This one, though, hurts worse than all the other times he's allowed his familial duty to win over his personal desires. Can't he have one good thing in his life? Can't he have this?

"One more night," Nick agrees, and when his hands close over Sparrow's own, Sparrow finally regains the courage to look at him. Surprisingly, Nick is looking back at him, and even with how upset he clearly is about the entire situation, his gaze reflects nothing but fondness.

"So kiss me," Sparrow challenges, and he tilts his head up, baring his neck. Make me forget why I'm breaking up with you. Make me feel like this night will last forever. "Please."

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Nick huffs.

Usually, when they kiss, it's in a blaze of passion. Sparrow still doesn't really care for kissing, but he enjoys the way Nick feels pressed against him, the heady rush of power that goes to his head, the way Nick makes him feel claimed, taken, loved.

This time, though, it's slow. Nick trails a hand over Sparrow's cheek, thumbing gently over the curve of his lips, his fingers tingling as he brushes hair behind Sparrow's ear. Sparrow's squirming in place by the time those fingers trail lower, to his neck, and then curl around to his hair.

"Nicky, what are you doing?" he finally asks when Nick still makes no move to lean in, instead focusing so hard on combing through Sparrow's hair, his gaze dark and intense.

"Studying you," Nick answers. "So I never forget."

Well, damn. Sparrow shuts up, and he takes the time to study Nick in return: the curve of his jawline, the way his jacket gives way to his collarbone, the faintest trace of bite marks that Sparrow's left for him in the past. He is, Sparrow thinks, unfairly attractive.

It'll hurt leaving him behind. Fuck.

Finally, finally, Nick uses the hand still tangled in Sparrow's hair to coax him forwards, drawing him into a kiss. It is softer than any other time they've kissed: before, Nick would kiss like he's staking a claim, but now each gentle press of his lips is an apology, a goodbye.

Sparrow can only close his eyes, allow himself to fall prone into Nick's arms, remain stock-still when Nick trails his lips against the corner of Sparrow's mouth and then lower, mouthing at the skin of his neck.

If Nick notices when he starts crying, he doesn't say anything.

[rpvlix]

ramble about Fous

//Ohh he's so underutilized... I am sure I will have some to say tho let's get going

In his original iterations I had a lot more negative feelings about Fous. His story hasn't changed much since the start and neither has his personality, but I have come around a lot more as time went on.

Used to think he was really pathetic and kind of annoying but now I dunno. I do relate to him a little more now, as I've developed him more in my head i realize that we have very similar flavors of depression and anxiety. He is pathetic but in kind of a soggy cardboard way and I like that in a man.

Back in his Prime, he and Braso were actually SUPER alike. I mean Braso hadn't been born yet, but if he had then the similarities would have been almost too strong. Very physically gifted, so much muscle. But he was an upbeat guy with not a lot of brains, loved helping people and loved mortal life.

Honestly all three of the middle siblings are a LOT more alike than they can see for themselves. They are all largely defined by loneliness and have similar attitudes and honestly even goals.

They all strive to enjoy life to the fullest. Fous has decided that this is unattainable and no longer tries. Astathis has an idea of life that makes him annoying to many other people, often prioritizing himself over everyone else as well. Braso wants to experience everything he can, more or less. It is an interesting thing for me to reflect on, at least. The ways that they compare and contrast. The ways that they might not have had the same emotional issues in each others situations. The ways they might have the same issues in each others situations. I think about these three more than I talk about them.

Fous was always rebellious. He realized really really early on into missions on the mortal planets that their lives were so much more fulfilling. Joyful. He's the one that planted seeds in Astathis' mind long before anyone could've seen things going the way they did. Ast doesn't even remember this, but Fous would often speak with his toddler brother about how unfairly Aton treated everyone. About how Astathis must grow up to be strong willed in order to survive. About how he wanted so badly to leave forever, to live and die like any mortal would.

I like Fous a lot now, I really do. I think there's a lot of interesting nooks and crannies to explore now but I just haven't had the time or the motivation to go digging yet. Historically he is one of the least used muses (he and Andras have had probably less than 10 interactions each across all iterations) so I just havent had a lot of time/reason to explore him very much.

I'm sure that someday I will find a muse that works well with him in a fun enough way that he will see some action. Until then he will sit in his room and stew, I suppose.

Its not just moping about a lost love anymore like it was in original iterations. It was a man slowly losing all hope he had, abandoning his life for one that had even a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel, and then having that ripped away from him. He is utterly hopeless in a way that could be fun or also intensely depressing to delve into. And I do love that

[rainieclown]

DEADLY OBSESSION

michael myers x reader - chapter 3: blood pill

when you're in your room, you feel tired and lonely. it's been a long afternoon with doctors running around to find a new carer for you while miss burnham went home to recover. most of all, you were terrified that michael was being treated unfairly. there were sick rumours of doctor loomis mistreating patients, but you'd have to wait and see.

tags: angst, morning sickness, pregnancy/pregnancy tests

warnings: forced abortion, vomiting, angst, crying, yandere themes

huge trigger warning for (forced) abortions this chapter, i want to go into how patients are treated by the hospital as this is set in the 1980's and people in mental hospitals were treated cruelly around that time (esp in the halloween franchise) if you can't read this chapter, that's completely fine! i hope you're doing well, drink plenty of water and eat three meals - rin <3

michael had been gone for 4 weeks now, and you felt terrified. when you woke up this morning, you started vomiting and found that you can't move too quickly as you'll grow nauseous. miss burnham had visited, and was on crutches, only to be sent home by the administrator of the hospital. you felt lonely, they still hadn't found a free nurse as the hospital was pretty full, causing most of the staff to be overworked and unable to fit you on a schedule. so, doctor addison took you in on his more light schedule, he was simply researching cotard syndrome, and had three patients under his care for therapy and interviews about how they felt and how they became the way they are today. so, when you got up, after checking michael's room for any sign of him, you headed to the rec room where one of doctor addison's patients sat. they were talking, and the poor girl was truly convinced she was a vampire, referring to herself as "the mistress of the dark." you believed her name was thelma, but you weren't sure as she was never interested in talking to you and you just left her be. "thank you for your time, miss howcroft. i shall leave you to your undead activities." doctor addison bows his head before heading over to you.

"good morning, y/n. you look a little rough." the doctor greets, and you huff. "mhm. i feel sick, just spent 5 minutes throwing up." you sigh, and doctor addison hums, beginning to scribble down notes on a new page. "tell me your symptoms?" he suggests, and you hum. "nauseous, just feeling generally ill. i feel like i'm going to throw up." you tell him, and he hums, writing down the information you gave him. "morning sickness?" he suggests, looking up at you. "pfft, yeah maybe." you sigh, grabbing a cup to fill up with water. "is there any chance you could be pregnant?" he asks, and you choke on your drink. growing flustered, you stammer slightly, looking away from the man. "i'm guessing so from what i witnessed." he teases, nudging your side. "shut up..! i'm not pregnant." you huff, glancing at your stomach. "you could be, i'll get a test for you." he says, leaving the room.

you sigh, looking over at thelma who was staring at you. she makes a small noise as she realises she's been caught gawking, and you furrow your brows as she slinks away out of the room. you had noticed her wandering around curiously, sometimes spending her time with a burn victim. they seemed to get on pretty well, and you and doctor addison made a bet that they were secretly dating. when doctor addison returns, he hands you a thin box. "take this, and tell me the results asap." he smiles, pushing the box into your hands. "fine.. but i don't think i'm pregnant as morning sickness normally happens before this time." you note, but doctor addison corrects you. "no, morning sickness starts around the 4th to 6th week of pregnancy." he smiles, and you roll your eyes as you walk into the bathroom.

your heart dropped when you saw the results. you were pregnant. terrified of how the doctors would react, how miss burnham would react, but most importantly.. how would michael take it? would he be happy or would he ditch you? "fuck.." you whimper, tears streaking down your face. a few gentle knocks sound through the bathroom and you flinch. "y/n? are you done?" doctor addison calls through the door, and you whine as you open it up for him. "so..?" he asks softly, and you hand him the stick. "oh my... congratulations!" he smiles brightly, pulling you into a hug. you cry into his coat, and addison's smile drops as he rubs your back. "how will everyone react?" you whimper, and the blonde man sighs. "that i can't say, but we have to tell the board of your pregnancy. i'll leave it to you to tell mr. myers. come on, i'll take you to solitary to see him." he says, his british accent gentle and soothing. "thank you.. i'm scared but- i have to tell him at least." you sniffle, letting him lead you out of the room.

you've never been to solitary, as you normally stayed in your room or stowed away in the corner of the room. so seeing all the patients locked away and seemingly bored or distressed scared you. "is he okay?" you ask softly, and doctor addison shrugs. "i'm not sure.." he says softly, glancing at one of the more erratic patients in his cell. all of them were sound proof, inside and out, and were dark and cramped. "oh god.." you mumble, grabbing the doctors arm tightly for protection as you rest a hand over your stomach without realising. you get to michael's cell, and you see doctor loomis sat with him. michael spots you immediately, and his eyes brighten a little. you give him a small wave, upset at the bruises on his face and neck, desperate to get in there and hold him tightly. doctor addison gets his master key and unlocks a small panel on the door. "doctor loomis, i need to borrow mr myers." he says firmly as the older doctor turns. "ah, doctor addison. what a surprise." he grins, standing from his chair and turning his back to michael. "i'm just about done here. keep a close eye on him, he's deemed dangerous." doctor loomis says as he steps out.

you slip past the doctors and latch onto michael tightly, wrapping your arms around his neck, forgetting about his bruises. he doesn't seem to care as his shackled hands find your hips, holding you closer. "i've missed you.." you mumble, moving away to cup his face in your hands. "me too. are you alright?" he rasps, voice rough from lack of use. you nod slightly, leaning your forehead against his as you gently brush his hair with your fingers. "how peculiar. i've never seen anyone get a positive reaction out of him." doctor loomis notes, and addison hums. "they have a special bond, but we need to let them have a private conversation as i tell the board the situation." he says, closing the door to speak to loomis privately as well.

"are you alright?" you ask, still resting one of your hands on his cheek. "mhm. i'm fine." he replies, nuzzling into your neck as he pulls you fully onto his lap. the two of you sit in a comfortable silence as you curl into his chest. "how long until you get out?" you ask after a while, and michael hums. "soon." he responds, kissing the top of your head. "can i tell you something..?" you continue, voice quiet. "of course." he says, tilting your chin with his finger so you would look at him. "i'm pregnant.." you announce, averting your gaze from his. michael smiles, the thought of you swelling with his child was so hot to him, a true marking, but the thought of having a kid annoyed him. he doesn't like kids... but he'd make an exception for you. "michael..?" you mumble, tears welling in your eyes.

"don't worry, i'm happy." he smiles, nuzzling his nose against yours. you smile, kissing him softly. "thank you for not turning me away.." you sigh happily and michael rolls his eyes. "i would never. you're mine now, forever." he mumbles, resting his large hand on your stomach. you feel warm inside, and despite being terrified of the teen pregnancy, you felt happy that you weren't in this alone. the door opens abruptly, and you jump. "y/n, please come with me so we can talk." doctor loomis crosses his arms and you feel unsafe as you shuffle closer to michael. "talk to me here.." you say quietly, not willing to leave michael again, and he clearly feels the same way as he holds you tighter- this time being careful of your stomach. "fine. i'm assuming you've told him of your predicament." doctor loomis adjusts his glasses before continuing. "the board just won't allow a pregnancy between two patients, let alone between two 17 year olds." he continues as doctor addison looks away. "i'm sorry, but we're going to have to perform an abortion." the blonde sighs from where he stood. "what?! no!" you protest, draping your arms around your stomach protectively. "don't worry, y/n. it'll be over before you know it." doctor loomis smiles.

michael moves to stand, putting you down carefully and moving in front of you. "don't touch them." he says, voice rough as he speaks up. "i'm afraid you have no say in the matters, myers. hand them over." loomis says, folding his arms. "no." he furrows his brows, feeling you clutch the back of his shirt as you nuzzle into his back. "myers, this is crucial. let me take y/n to my operation room." loomis says sternly, taking a step closer. "over my dead body." he growls, and loomis simply smiles again. "we'll dig one hole." he shoots back, grabbing michael's wrist and stabbing a syringe into his vein. michael feels himself growing weaker slowly, but his urge to protect you- to protect his baby- is too much. tugging on his shackles, he tries to lunge for the doctor, but alas, he slumps to his knees as you gasp, moving to help him.

"now then, y/n. come with me please." loomis smiles at you, taking your arm into his hand to pull you from michael. "no! michael, help!" you yelp, trying to struggle. "enough, doctor loomis! you can't hold my patient like that." addison steps up, trying to pull you from the older doctor. "now now, addison. you don't want to get in trouble for stopping the process now, would you?" loomis teases, and you feel dizzy at how fast the doctor had pulled you. michael tries to grab you again, but he collapses fully onto the floor, unable to help you as you cry. eventually, a needle pricks your neck and you cry in pain before growing dizzy. "michael..!" you whimper as your world goes dark.

when you awaken, you're lay in your bed, snugly wrapped up in your blankets but something's wrong. you feel... empty. you can just tell that your baby was gone, and you start to sob. you cry for hours, feeling no motivation to get up to dry your tears or get some water for your dry throat. you just cry, clutching your stomach as you roll onto your side. your baby wasn't even a month into development, and they had stripped you of them. you barely got to experience pregnancy with michael, barely got to feel like a parent. your door clicks open, and you don't even react as you sob into your pillow. "y/n." a gruff voice starts, and you finally turn. michael moves over to your bed, and you scramble to hug him tightly. "they- they..!" you wail, and michael sighs as he holds you close to his chest.

michael didn't feel anything, but the sight of you mourning made him feel sick. he wanted revenge on the facility for making you feel like this, wanted to murder anyone who hurt you. "my baby..!" you cry, still clutching your tummy as he holds you. michael kisses your head softly, rubbing your belly for you. "it's okay. they won't get away with this. i'll make sure of it." he grumbles, a tinge of anger in his voice. "they killed my baby.." you whimper, hands coming up to grasp onto michael instead, his presence comforted you as you guessed he was feeling the same way. "it's alright.. i'll make sure they never hurt you again." michael states, laying down with you carefully as you settle with him, letting you cry yourself to sleep into his chest.

time passes, and doctor addison grants michael access to stay in your room whilst you mourn. he feels rage boiling his blood as he has to force you to eat, to drink, to shower, to take medication, to take care of yourself at all. they made you like this, and he was going to make them pay for every ounce of distress that filled your mind. currently, you were fast asleep against his chest, mumbling something incoherent in your sleep. michael can't sleep, and he doesn't mind staying awake until you feel better even if it kills him. you were his top priority, his obsession. he loved you deeply, and cared about what happened to you.

they had destroyed all progress you had made, you couldn't even get out of bed to go to therapy. michael gives you a small kiss on your forehead as you shuffle in your sleep slightly, your hands clutching his shirt tightly. tears are slipping from your closed eyes as you sleep, and michael gently rubs them away, leaning in again to kiss you softly. you relax slightly, but when he pulls away you whimper. "my baby..!" you cry despite being asleep. michael lets out a small breath as he rubs your back, fluttering soft kisses over your face so that you would settle again. "michael..?" you mumble, and he hums softly. "it's okay, i'm here." he says back, unsure if you're still sleeping or not.

you doze off again, content in your dream, still grasping his shirt tightly to keep him close. michael checks the time behind him, it was 3:41 am, time was going so slow. michael's throat was dry, and he can't fight the urge to go get water. slowly, he slips from your grip and gets up, unknown to the fact that despite unconscious you knew he left. as he gets a drink from the tap in the bathroom, you cry softly, curling in on yourself. your cries grow distressed as you lurch up, wide awake. "mike!" you yelp, hands trembling as you search for him. the other patient steps from the bathroom quickly, stalking over to grab you tightly. you settle with your head on his chest as he bundles you up into his arms. "it's okay.." he mumbles as your tears wet his shirt. "why did they do this to me..?" you cry, looping your arms under his to pull him closer. "because they don't care about anyone in this hospital." michael's reply is sour, and he moves back to the bed with you.

you sniffle as he lays you down, and you make grabby hands at him. chuckling, michael joins you and wraps you both up in the covers. "thank you for being here.." you mumble, nuzzling into his chest as you wrap your arms around his middle. "mhm, i love you." he smiles, kissing your head softly. "i.. i love you too." you reply softly, smiling brightly. after a few moments of silence, michael assumes you've fallen asleep but your small voice mumbles his name. "hm?" he looks down at you. "if we get the chance, would you like to have kids?" you ask softly, and michael is slightly taken aback. "in here or when we get out?" he questions back and you shrug. "either." you mumble, and michael thinks. "absolutely. i'll do anything for you." he says softly, "besides, the thought of you being full of my kids is hot as fuck." he adds teasingly, enjoying how you fluster. "thank you.." you mumble to the first part as he gives you a soft kiss.

michael pulls your leg over his hips and you hum, happily shuffling closer to him. "you're so cute.." michael whispers as you settle on him. "stop." you whine, hiding your smile. "mm, no." he teases, lifting your head to give you a soft kiss. three soft knocks interrupt your moment, and you sit up. "it's almost 4 am, who..?" you trail off as michael gets up, gesturing for you to stay put. slowly, michael peels the door open and is surprised to see doctor addison standing there. "may i come in?" he asks softly, and michael looks back to you. you seem uncomfortable, yet nod, so michael lets him in. "i just want to apologise.. i shouldn't of told them, i just... my research means anything to me and if i slip up it will mean nothing." he explains, and michael hides you protectively behind him.

you sniffle slightly, leaning against michael's shoulder. "however, if anything were to reoccur... i promise i won't tell as long as i can keep doing my research." he says, placing another pregnancy test on your bedside table. you eye it curiously, and despite feeling a lot of pain you know it's always possible to try again. "thank you.." you mumble, circling your arms fully around michael as he continues to watch the doctor's every move. "i hope you can find it in you to forgive me, y/n.. i think miss burnham is coming back soon so hopefully you both can do art therapy again." he smiles, leaving the room after bidding farewell.

michael grabs the test, offering it to you. "what do you think?" he asks softly, and you take the box from him. "i might still need some time, but i will happily try again." you smile, and michael smiles back.

[zeta-in-de-walls]

What's the most common misconception you hear about c!tommy?

Hey! Really interesting question, cheers. I’d say that there’s quite a few misconceptions floating around: that he never apologises, that he hasn’t developed, that his exile was his fault, that he’s the main source of conflict on the server, that all he does is steal, and plenty of other stuff.

But the one I probably hear most is how Tommy supposedly values music discs over people.

This one is such a mess of misconceptions. I’ve even heard it said that Doomsday happened because Tommy cared about his discs too much and he was wrong because you shouldn’t value items over human lives. I hate this one because it misunderstands Tommy enough so you can dismiss him because its such a weak position. 

Anyway, I understand why its so messy. Tommy throughout season 2 is frequently in a state of uncertainty and is being driven by emotions and isn’t thinking clearly after so much suffering. He says a lot of stuff he doesn’t mean and is very suggestible. Most of his talking about the discs is done when he’s lonely and thinks his friends don’t care for him anymore, that they’re better off without him.

Now, let’s be clear: music discs are something Tommy’s character loves. His happiness every time he listens to one feels very genuine. He’s had so many emotional moments listening to his discs with others and even considers his bench his happy space. He likes them and invites others to listen with him. These items hold no intrinsic value, they’re of no worth to anyone else besides how much they mean to Tommy. The only reason to take them is to try to control him specifically. That’s the original reason Dream took them in the original disc war - to punish Tommy after he caused some trouble. 

And the original disc war was fun for Tommy. He found the battle to be exciting and enjoyed trying to outplay Dream with his best friend Tubbo and anyone he could get on his side. It was like a fun game to him. One that, while chaotic, no one really got hurt from at all - the only one who really suffered was Tommy himself, who put stuff on the line for it and had his whole base dug up. (And Tubbo who got dragged in and lost items, but he was initially a very willing partner who found the conflict fun too.) 

And then we have Dream, who traded away L’Manburg’s independence for Tommy’s discs, an interesting decision which meant only Tommy really paid the price that day. Everyone remarked on how unusually selfless it was of Tommy. That day was a victory for everyone else, but bittersweet for him. Wilbur consoled him, saying they could get them back and then they’d have even more history and sentimental value attached to them, having been what paid for L’Manburg’s freedom. Tommy was encouraged and so the game continued.

Dream over this time became not just Tommy’s enemy, but his friend. They had fights and conflicts but it was more like a fun game. As they also did stuff like make a church together. Eventually Tommy managed to steal Mellohi back from Dream while Skeppy acquired Cat. At the elections, Tommy gives Mellohi to Wilbur who gives it back again when they’re banished. Months pass and they finally win back L’Manberg and its a wonderful day (until it goes wrong) but Tommy’s not done with his disc war. 

This disc war was always a personal thing for Tommy, he’s never wanted others to be dragged in and hurt by it. He kind of takes Tubbo for granted, but Tubbo’s also always been his partner in crime and Tommy enjoys having a war he can fight alongside his best friend - he and Tubbo against Dream. Dream at this point is still seen as a friendly enemy, in spite of choosing Schlatt and helping Wilbur blow up L’Manberg. Anyway, he rejects Presidency, giving it to Wilbur because he trusts him and also wants to focus on his personal battles after so long ignoring it. He doesn’t want others to be dragged in or for his interests to be divided. He’s leaving L’Manburg in safe hands he can trust. That’s season 1 of the SMP, but season 2 is where things get messier.

After the war, Tommy hears that Tubbo had been suspicious that Tommy might’ve been the traitor. In order to show that he trusts him, Tommy gives Tubbo Mellohi. It’s not just a disc now, its a sign of trust, a sign of their bond - at least in Tommy’s eyes.

Then Dream builds obsidian walls around L’Manburg and we first see Tommy showing that bit of selfishness. He states that he’d wanted to step away, that L’Manburg wasn’t his priority anymore. That he’d left it in safe hands so he could focus on the discs. But it doesn’t matter what Tommy intended. Dream is targeting him and is dragging the rest of L’Manburg into it by threatening to seal them in obsidian forever if they don’t comply. Tommy and Tubbo do have a disagreement here, but its not actually so much about the discs. 

-Tommy believes that fighting Dream is the superior option, if they ask for help from others in the server - because what he’s doing isn’t right - then they could defeat him, show him that he couldn’t just push them around. 

-Tubbo feels like that would get them killed and he doesn’t want to risk their lives. It would be better to appease Dream for now and secretly plot how to take him down later but Tommy’s being too hotheaded. 

Tommy brings up the disc to state how he trusts Tubbo and would consider being exiled a betrayal but Tubbo reminds him that they’re just discs and there’s more on the line and Tommy needs to be more cooperative. Anyway, Tommy’s hurt by Tubbo exiling him and think its a sign that he doesn’t care about him anymore. Tubbo meanwhile found it difficult to do but felt like there was no other option but did still care about Tommy. Tubbo would later come to regret doing it while Tommy would later say that it was the right choice when they finally actually talk. 

The discs here are kind of a symbol but Tommy doesn’t really value them over others, he’s being a little selfish for sure but that is mostly a result of being treated unfairly by Dream and feeling attacked and ganged up on by his friends, not seeing how they were trying to help him. Dream’s the one to blame here. At worst, Tommy’s being irresponsible in thinking he can just step away from L’Manburg - he didn’t value the discs over it, he just wanted to fight a personal battle without L’Manburg being involved for once. But too many things do matter to him and Dream realised he could attack Tommy through his friends. Its also why Tommy says he didn’t want Tubbo to be President, because he wanted him to be free to help him in his personal war too. There were some issues in their friendship that for sure got exploited and blown out of proportion.

So post-exile. Tommy is rather confused. He’s decided he doesn’t want to die and that Dream wasn’t really his friend, but he still feels abandoned by all his other friends. He still believes they didn’t really care about him after his failed beach party and everything else. And his feelings on Dream are mixed because he knows logically he should hate him but emotionally he still feels like he’s his friend.

Tommy at this point, begins clinging to the discs as some sort of tangible goal while feeling so lonely and abandoned. He has no real sense of agency and really wants Technoblade to give him guidance. Technoblade however wants to destroy L’Manburg and reaffirms his thoughts that Tubbo doesnt really care about him. Tommy is still...kinda(?) clear that he doesn’t want L’Manburg to be destroyed but is willing to compromise on minor terrorism. His remaining belief in L’Manburg is being eroded. You can see in his trips into L’Manburg he is rather unaware of the extent of his actions. He’s suffered and now feels right in lashing out. It seems to be the start of a villain arc even. Right at this point, the discs make more sense than people so they are his goal. And yet even in the midst of his uncertainty, he says the one Tubbo has is safe, he wants to get the one Dream has. 

The discs are Tommy’s way of saying he wants to fight Dream. It’s not really about the discs anymore, Dream went way too far with the exile and now Tommy wants to stop him and find it easiest to frame it as going after his music disc.

Then the festival. Tommy finally confronts Tubbo and sees him about to give his disc to Dream. It’s his worst fears confirmed, that Tubbo doesn’t really care about him and that he’s on Dream’s side. They fight and Tommy finally says the line ‘the discs were worth more than you ever were!’

And he regrets it immediately. The statement rang false. They were just discs and Tubbo was his best friend. He immediately tells Tubbo to give up the disc and changes sides then and there. The discs were not more important than people. He was being selfish. And he also remembered how much he cared about L’Manburg and didn’t want it to be blown up no matter what he’d agreed to the day before. He wants to fight for it, choosing his friends once and for all. 

In his argument with Techno on Doomsday, he does bring up his discs and words it kind of awkwardly. He tries to explain that ‘nothing had been taken from you, while the discs were stolen from me’ Tommy believes that Techno is destroying something people loved when he could’ve just walked away, he wasn’t fighting for something he loved like Tommy in his wars. That’s what he’s trying to get at, not that music discs are more important than people. Tommy doesn’t actually believe that and prefers wars that don’t hurt others, as the disc wars was once supposed to be before Dream brought in everyone else. Even saying that, Tommy admits he’d messed up so many times in chasing the discs. That he was wrong.

Tommy talks about going after the discs again but at this point it really means taking down Dream. Dream had expressed that he would not stop, he enjoyed their ‘game’ too much. Tommy has nothing left to lose as far as he’s concerned and needs to take down Dream for everything he’d done. 

During the disc saga finale, again Tommy always chooses Tubbo first. There’s this one moment where he has Mellohi and could run away forever but he stops and gives it up along with all their items before their taken to the vault and almost forced to watch Tubbo die while he gets thrown in prison forever. But he chooses Tubbo. He always does. 

Okay, summary over. I hope that better explains why I dislike the misconception that Tommy chooses his discs over people. He doesn’t really. It’s used to discredit him way too much, I feel. It’s only at his lowest, after being tormented in exile that he even gets close to that position and that’s when he’s on the bring of choosing a dark path and becoming what he hates. At the festival, he rejects that path.

Now that he has his discs, he hasn’t started trouble with them once. They’re safe and he can bring them out to listen to when he’s feeling low, not hurting anyone. They’re just something he loves and its okay to have attachments. 

[wrenhyperfixates]

Gold Writing

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: When a charming, handsome stranger gives you inspiration for the first time in weeks, you try to guess what it is he’s famous for in exchange for his name. Warnings: none at all :) A/N: Just a little idea I’d been toying around with for a bit. Enjoy :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi​ @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90​ @myraiswack​ @mythicalgarlicknot​

Disclaimer: Gif and picture not mine

It was an uncharacteristically warm day for this time of year in New York City. Or so you’d been told, anyway. You had been living here for three months, tops; not really long enough to have a feel for the weather patterns. Either way, you were grateful for the sun’s rays coating your face, bathing you in their heat.

You turned your face away from the sky and down towards the sketchbook in your lap. It had been your hope that Central Park might inspire you, but you were still having artist’s block. It was at least better than being cooped up in your apartment all day. You didn’t really know anyone yet, save for your old friend who you had moved in next to. If it hadn’t been for them encouraging you, you probably never would have packed up and moved. They’d promised to introduce you to some people they knew, too, so you wouldn’t get lonely. Sadly, the scheduling never worked out.

And so, here you were, alone on a bench. Looking at all the couples and families and friends bustling and laughing around you, you thought you might be the only person all by yourself on this Saturday afternoon. Well, no, not the only one, you realized, spying a raven-haired man on a bench not too far away. His nose was buried in a book, a few locks of his shiny, dark hair falling out of his bun and framing his face. He looked familiar, but not in a "you knew him" sort of way. More in that you thought he might be famous somehow. No one else seemed to notice him, though.

You glanced back down at the empty pages, waiting to be filled by the strokes of your pencil. Then you looked back at the mystery man again, scooting a little closer to the end of your bench. Without really thinking about it, your deft fingers picked up your standard 2B pencil and began to sketch.

Starting with the sharp lines of his jaw, you moved onto his hair that intrigued you so. You don’t think you’d ever seen another person with hair that dark a color. Trying to get every last detail right, you kept glancing up and down. By the time you were onto the shading, you were certain that you had seen him somewhere before. The next time you glanced up, he was gone, and a frown settled on your features as you looked left and right, searching for the only subject to inspire you in days.

“It is a lovely drawing, darling,” a smooth baritone voice with a British accent said from behind you, “but I do not really think that is my best angle.”

You squeaked in surprise and dropped your sketchbook. The man somehow managed to reach out in front of you and catch it. He came to sit next to you, and as he walked around the bench, you realized just how tall he was.

“I think you dropped this,” he said with a charming smile, handing your sketchbook to you.

“I, uh, yeah. I did,” you stammered, hating how you couldn’t be as suave as him. Plus, he was unfairly good looking. “Thank you. And, um, sorry. About, you know, drawing you.”

“On the contrary, darling, there is no need to apologize. I am quite happy to have my likeness captured in such a flattering light,” he chuckled, taking off his sunglasses and revealing his brilliant blue-green eyes. “Really, I should be thanking you.”

With all the small details you were gathering, it felt like his name was on the tip of your tongue. Infuriatingly enough, you still couldn’t place it. You didn’t think he was a singer, that didn’t feel right. Though you did feel like his mesmerizing voice would be well suited to it. So, a well-known author, perhaps? He had been reading, after all. But you were woefully behind on your own reading list, so you had a feeling it wasn’t that either. You briefly wondered what even happened to the book he’d had; it was nowhere on him, almost like he’d stored it in some pocket of space.

“Oh,” you finally responded, nervously laughing. “You’re welcome, in that case. And thank you. For the compliments, I mean.”

“Ah, you are very welcome, too. It is not often I meet such a talented artist.” He somehow managed to sprawl out on the somewhat uncomfortable park bench, his long legs spread wide. It wasn’t indecent, exactly, but it somehow felt like it was. His arms were resting on the back of the seat so that, had you been leaning back, one of them would have been wrapped around your shoulder. “I do somehow find it hard to believe I was the most interesting thing in the vicinity, however. Though, I suppose I am rather flattered by that notion, too.”

His mischievous grin sent pleasant shivers down your spine. “Well, when inspiration strikes,” you anxiously chuckled with a shrug. Your nerves were still telling you he was about to get mad at any second.

“I do suppose that is true.” He cocked his head at you in the most adorable way. “Then I am honored to provide you with it.”

You suddenly felt even warmer than you had before, but you knew it had nothing to do with the sun anymore, but rather was from this enrapturing stranger. Though, this man’s smile certainly rivaled the sun.

“I hope you don’t mind my asking,” you began, “but you seem awfully familiar. You don’t happen to be famous, do you?”

“Oh, so you have not yet figured it out, then. I had been wondering. I suppose that, yes, I could be considered famous.”

When he didn’t say anything else, you continued, “Can I get a name then? I’m afraid I don’t really keep up with pop culture all that much.”

“Well, I suppose I could tell you my name.” His grin somehow grew to be even more mischievous. “But where is the fun in that? Besides, I am afraid you might start treating me differently if you knew.”

“Ok, that’s fair.” A spark of excitement lit behind your eyes as you got an idea and turned to face the captivating stranger. “How about this, I get three guesses about what it is you’re known for. If I get it right, you have to tell me your name. If not, then it can stay a mystery forever, if you want it to.”

“A most intriguing proposition. Alright, I accept. First guess?”

“Hang on,” you said, putting up your hand. “If I only get three guesses, I feel like it would be fair if I got to talk to you for a bit longer, at least. Unless I’m holding you up from something, of course.”

“I have time to spare, darling.” He stood up and offered you his hand. “Join me on a walk?”

An easy dialogue flowed between you as you strolled through the park. The way the light was illuminating his features made your hands itch to sketch him again. That reminded you to ask about his book, which he pulled out from seemingly nowhere.

“Hang on,” you said, getting your first idea. “Are you like a-a magician or a, um, an illusionist or something?”

“Well, it is interesting that you mention that. Magic is more a hobby than anything else,” he replied. “But not what I am known for, per se. Two guesses left.”

You frowned and flipped through the pages of the book he’d handed you. Hoping he’d made some kind of foolish error, you checked the covers for his name. No such luck. Absorbed in your hunt for clues, you weren’t paying attention to the world around you. Your companion suddenly grabbed you and jerked you to a stop. A ball whizzed past your head. If you’d kept walking, it surely would have hit you.

“You really should be more careful,” he playfully tsked. Then he grew more serious as he gently turned your head, checking for injuries. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, feeling flustered from the attention of his piercing gaze. He also felt surprisingly cool for how warm out it was. You looked up at him and saw him raising his eyebrows as if he didn’t believe you. “I’m fine, really,” you added more convincingly. “Just my pride that’s wounded, I guess. But you stopped me in time. So, thank you.”

“It was no problem, darling,” he replied as you set off on the path again. “After all, I can’t have you getting hurt before you finish guessing, now can I?”

Again, you giggled, simultaneously loving and hating how he had that effect on you. “No, I guess not.”

“So, have you found whatever it is your looking for in my book?”

Glancing down at the page you had open, you saw it was the story of Rumpelstiltskin. How ironic. You tried to forge a connection between the book of fairytales and this man in your mind, but were coming up empty. Unless, of course, he was going to the source material for some reason, like he was preparing for a role.

“An actor!” you said, feeling sure you’d gotten it now. You’d definitely felt like you’d seen him on your TV screen before. Plus, he was definitely handsome enough for it. “That’s got to be it.”

“While I have appeared on television before, that is still incorrect, darling. One guess remaining.”

Oh how you wanted to wipe that smug yet ridiculously captivating grin from his face. Maybe with a kiss... Nope, no. That was ridiculous; you just met him. Besides, he was famous. Why on God’s green earth would he be interested in you as anything more than an entertaining encounter to pass the afternoon? So, you’d just have to do it with the right guess. You put your thinking cap on.

“Ok, well if you were on TV but aren’t an actor, maybe it was in an interview,” you thought out loud, gauging his reaction. You were excited, but also sad that your game was coming to a close. He’d surely leave after, whether you got it right or not. You supposed you could always try to look it up once you got home, if you couldn’t guess correctly. At least it would make for a fun story then. “I suppose there’s reality shows too, but that doesn’t quite seem your style. And, I guess you could be doing the interviewing—like a reporter or something—but that doesn’t sit quite right either. Sports! They televise sports. Plus I’m not really a fan, so I could believe I’ve heard of you but not totally recognize you. So, my final guess is athlete.”

“And you are certain that is your final guess?” He had a wonderful poker face and gave away nothing as to whether or not it was right. “Last chance to turn back.”

You appraised him, thinking he looked like he could be an athlete. And maybe it was some reverse psychology, trying to get you to abandon the correct guess. You didn’t really have any better ideas, anyway.

“Yes?”

“So sorry, but that is incorrect. And you are regretfully out of guesses, darling.”

“Of course it's not,” you sighed. He seemed genuinely saddened by how dismayed you seemed, so you perked up. “It was fun, though. So I, uh, I guess I won’t hold you up any longer.”

“You are correct; this was quite fun. Unfortunately, I do have another arrangement to get to,” he said in a way that made you believe he was actually upset over it. “How about that sketch that started this all, though? That one you made of me?”

“What of it?” you asked.

“May I buy it off of you?”

Your mouth formed a surprised little circle. “I mean, you can honestly have it for free. It is an unsolicited picture of you, after all. I wouldn’t feel right accepting your money for it.”

“Nonsense, I am only offering a small amount, anyway. Say, the price of a cup of coffee?”

You smiled at your feet as you caught onto what he was saying. It made your insides feel fuzzy. Maybe you wouldn’t accept, though. After all, you still didn’t know who he was. But if you were to go on a date, then certainly he would tell you.

“Sure,” you agreed. “I would love that.”

You tore out the sketch and handed it to him. In exchange, he gave you his card and said to call him to set a time and place. You glanced down at the small paper in your hands, not yet reading it. By the time you looked back up, he was already gone. With your handsome stranger nowhere to be found, you went to actually read his information. Unable to contain your surprise, not to mention shock at how foolish you were, you gasped, and your jaw hung open.

Gold writing on a green card held the secret you’d been trying to find the answer to all afternoon. Of course he was an Avenger, a hero. You ran your fingers over his name, a small smile forming on your lips. You quickly punched the contact into your phone and headed off in the direction of your apartment.

“Well, I’m glad this isn’t goodbye, Loki Laufeyson,” you mused to yourself, relishing in the way his name rolled off your tongue. “I’ll see you soon.”

[southsidewrites]

Frustrated || Oikawa Tooru x Reader

“What, Oikawa? What do you want to talk about?”

He bit his lip as he looked down at you, his shoulders heaving with a deep breath. “We need you at the tournament this weekend.”

“Oh, really?” Your eyebrows rose. “Seeing as I’m such a useless manager and all, I figured Suki could handle it.”

His lips pressed into a line, the irritation clear in his face. “You know you’re not a useless manager.”

“Oh wow, what a compliment,” you drawled. “Not a useless manager. I’m flattered, Oikawa, really.”

He rolled his eyes, gripping the back of his neck as he looked down at you. “You know that’s not what I mean.” He sighed. “And I need you there this weekend.”

At that, your mouth fell open—you were at a total loss for words for a moment. “You—you what?”

Summary: You're the manager of Oikawa's college volleyball team, and after nearly four straight years of bickering with the unfairly attractive captain, you reach a breaking point. Fortunately, that might be just what it takes to make him admit his feelings for you.

Word Count: 3365

Author’s Note: I never thought I’d like Oikawa, and now here I am being a thirsty bitch for him. Highkey considering writing an extra-smutty part two to this, so be sure to let me know what you think!

Cross-posted to A03.

The ball hit the ground with a gentle thud, landing just a few inches behind Oikawa. His hands were still in the air, ready for the throw that never came, and when he turned around to look at you, his face was plastered with his most charming smile.

“What happened there?” he asked, his tone sickeningly sweet. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have thought he was genuinely concerned. But you did know better, and concern was definitely not what Oikawa was feeling.

You gritted your teeth, muttering something utterly inappropriate as Iwaizumi shook his head at you, reminding you that it just wasn’t worth it. As always, you were the one who had to bite your tongue when Oikawa decided to be an obnoxious dick. It had been two hours since practice ended, two hours straight of you tossing balls for Oikawa and Iwaizumi to practice their quick attack. Your arms and shoulders were already sore, reminding you just how much you’d rather be in bed.

“What was that?” Oikawa asked, flashing you that insufferable grin. “Didn’t quite hear you.”

“Nothing,” you replied, your voice low and even. You were not going to give that smug bastard the satisfaction of getting you worked up.

“Oh good!” He turned back toward the net, holding his hands in a ready position. “So, another few tosses?”

You brushed your hair out of your face, grabbing another ball from the bin. Goddamn Oikawa had somehow convinced you to stay. Unless you don’t want us to win this weekend, he had crooned, giving you that look that mimicked sincerity so well that you almost wondered if he was a psychopath. Everyone had been on edge with the Regionals tournament coming up, and the team had been practicing so much you wondered how they stayed upright.

Throwing the next ball on instinct, you cursed below your breath as it flew wide past Oikawa and out of bounds.

You could practically feel the eye roll as Oikawa turned to look at you. “You’d think after being our manager for four years, you’d be able to throw a decent toss. That is one of your only jobs, isn’t it?”

“Oikawa, don’t—”

“No need, Iwaizumi!” you snapped, whipping the next ball at the ground with a smack that made the black-haired man take a large step back. “Let me handle this one.” You crossed the court, stopping just inches from Oikawa and pulling yourself to your full height. “You know damn well that I can throw a ball, Oikawa, seeing as those were the first two I missed in the two fucking hours we’ve been here, maybe the first two I’ve missed since I got roped into this goddamn job freshman year.”

He smirked, crossing his arms as he looked down at you. “So, why are you missing them now?”

“Because it’s nearly nine at night and I haven’t been home in twelve hours!” you snapped. “Unlike you, I can’t keep going forever.” Taking a deep breath, you took a step back from him—in the four years you’d been working with the team, you had a shouted at Oikawa more than a handful of times, and you knew better than to draw it out too long. Oikawa hated to lose, and that included shouting matches with his team manager.

“I don’t remember saying we had to go forever,” he replied, a hint of an annoyed edge cracking through his cool composure. “Just until Iwaizumi and I had this attack down.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, sure, Oikawa, whatever you say.” Throwing your hands in the air, you turned to walk away from him. “I’m done, though. Find someone else to throw for you.”

“You’re done?” His eyes widened in what actually looked like genuine surprise. “You can’t be done—we still have drills to practice.”

“Wanna bet?” You kept walking, not bothering to turn around.

Iwaizumi called your name, but you ignored him, ready to go home and finally crawl into bed.

“Well, you may as well not come to the tournament this weekend, then!” Oikawa called. “Seeing as you’re done and all.”

“Sounds good to me!” You turned, mimicking his sweet smile. “Have fun at Regionals—I’ll be sure to leave Suki my clipboard.”

“Oikawa, would you just—”

“No,” he snapped, cutting off Iwaizumi. “If she wants to go, let her!”

It took all the self-control you had not to flip him an obscene gesture, but you just keep walking, storming out of the gym and into the women’s locker room. Letting the door slam behind you, you yanked off your sweatshirt, your heart racing from the argument. You flopped onto the bench, dropping your head into your hands as you tried to steady your breathing.

You hated that he had the power to get to you like that. You’d think after four years, you’d be used to his jabs, to the endless teasing and snarky remarks. He’d been that way since you met freshman year, him fresh out of high school where he had been a superstar ace setter, and you relatively new to volleyball but in desperate need of something to do outside of class.

Your relationship hadn’t been bad at first—you realized quickly that underneath the layer of asshole, Oikawa was actually a really good teammate that worked hard to make sure his team was successful. He had even been one of the first people to really give you the rundown on volleyball, making sure you were comfortable in your role before the first real match.

And then, once he was sure you knew what you were doing, the teasing really took off.

Shaking your head, you stood up, opening your locker. You knew it was just how he was, that he talked to everyone that way, but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Especially when you’d been up fourteen hours and were already stressed about how they were going to do at the Regionals tournament this weekend. If they lost, it would be the senior’s last college tournament, and Oikawa and Iwaizumi would be crushed.

You grabbed your shirt to tug it off, but before you could, the locker room door squeaked open behind you.

“Oikawa, what the hell?” You yanked the shirt back on, your cheeks heating with embarrassment when you saw who it was. “This is the women’s locker room, you asshole.”

He rolled his eyes, waving off your complaint. “I had a feeling you hadn’t changed yet—can we talk?”

Your mouth fell open slightly, and you started shaking your head. “Iwaizumi made you come in here, didn’t he?”

“Iwaizumi left right after you did,” he answered, an annoyed expression on his face. “Apparently, he’s not too happy with me either.”

“That’s because you’re an asshole.” You grabbed your bag, deciding you didn’t really need to change. Throwing it over your shoulder, you started walking past him.

A firm hand closed around your forearm. “Wait.”

The word seemed to shoot straight through you, a note of desperation making you jerk to a stop.

“What, Oikawa?” you asked, shaking your arm out of his grip. You sighed heavily and turned to look at him, your voice soft with exhaustion. “What do you want to talk about?”

He bit his lip as he looked down at you, his shoulders heaving with a deep breath. “We need you at the tournament this weekend.”

“Oh, really?” Your eyebrows rose. “Seeing as I’m such a useless manager and all, I figured Suki could handle it.”

His lips pressed into a line, the irritation clear in his face. “You know you’re not a useless manager.”

“Oh wow, what a compliment,” you drawled. “Not a useless manager. I’m flattered, Oikawa, really.”

He rolled his eyes, gripping the back of his neck as he looked down at you. “You know that’s not what I mean.” He sighed. “And I need you there this weekend.”

At that, your mouth fell open—you were at a total loss for words for a moment. “You—you what?”

He exhaled harshly, his gaze flicking away from you. “You’ve never missed a match,” he said hurriedly, the words seeming painful on his lips. “You’ve never missed a match, and I’m used to having you there.”

Stifling an amused laugh, your lips curved into a smile. “Oikawa,” you asked slowly, “are you saying that you can’t play without me?”

“I’m saying I’d rather have you there,” he retorted, the edge in his voice returning.

You were grinning widely now, thrilled by this turn of events. “No, Oikawa, I think you’re saying that you can’t play without me, that you need me there.”

He sighed, running his hand through his hair frustratedly. “If that’s how you want to take it, fine, but you better be on that bus with us tomorrow.”

There was still a stunned smile on your face as you shook your head. “No.”

“No?” Oikawa’s eyes narrowed with confusion. “Did you really just say no?”

“Sure did.” You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest stubbornly. “I’m not going unless you apologize.”

He scoffed, giving you an annoyed look. “Apologize? For what?”

“Well, treating me like shit, for one,” you said, mimicking his smug tone. “Maybe also for barging in on me when I could have been naked. Oh, and what about—”

Out of nowhere, Oikawa’s lips were on yours, your hands frozen at your sides as he gripped your shoulders. The kiss was quick, just long enough for the shock to pass and for you to realize that you kind of liked being kissed by Oikawa. Then, when he pulled back, his brown eyes were fixed on yours with an expression you had never seen on the confident captain’s face before—nerves.

“Oikawa, what…” you breathed, your mind spinning. “What is—why?”

He sighed, his hands drifting down your shoulders to your upper arms. “I told you, I need you at the tournament,” he said, his gaze flicking nervously away from yours. “And I obviously don’t mean as a manager.”

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t daydreamed some version of this moment countless times over the past few years, but you had never expected it to come true, much less after an argument that ended in you storming off the court. In fact, you had put a lot of effort toward eliminating the crush entirely, knowing that Oikawa could have his pick of nearly any girl in the university and didn’t show even a hint of interest in you.

“Oikawa, are you serious?”

“Of course, I’m serious,” he answered, annoyed. “Damn it, can you take anything seriously?”

“Can you?” you laughed, lifting your hand to his chin to force him to look at you. “I’m pretty sure this is the first genuine thing you’ve ever said to me.”

His lips quirked into a half-grin, and you could swear he was leaning into your touch. “So, does that mean you’ll come to the tournament this weekend?”

You lifted your other hand to his hair, running it through the silky locks as you took a step closer to him. “I believe I’m still waiting for an apology.”

“Fucking apology,” he muttered, pulling you close for another kiss. “I’m not going to apologize when you’ve been too dumb to notice me flirting with you for the past three years.”

You laughed as he pushed you back into the row of lockers. “Well, then.”

“I’ll show you an apology.” He kissed you hard, his lips like fire on your skin as he trailed his way down your jaw to your neck, nipping lightly between kisses. His hands were tight on your hips, his fingertips just barely tugging against the waistband of your shorts. “Can I—” he breathed, glancing pointedly down at said shorts.

“You’re going to apologize by going down on me?” you laughed, breathless from his kiss. Just the thought of it made you shiver with desire, your clothes suddenly feeling way too constrictive.

“If you don’t stop talking, I’m not going to do anything,” he murmured, one of his hands sliding up your shirt to rest on your lower back. Holding your bodies close together, he caught your lips in another heated kiss.

You moaned into his mouth, feeling his hardness through his shorts as you arched into him. “Fuck, Oikawa,” you gasped. “Please.”

He grinned, flipping his hair off his face before crouching down. Grabbing your waistband more firmly, he slowly started pulling the material down as he pressed his lips into your hipbone.

Gripping his hair, you briefly wished you had worn sexier underwear, but you didn’t have much time to think before his lips were on your stomach, shoving your shirt up. You pulled it off the rest of the way and leaned back on the lockers, letting him do most of the work of holding you upright.

The metal was cool against your skin, a sharp contrast to Oikawa’s lips that were like fire as they trailed along the hem of your panties. He nipped and sucked, teasing his way down to your thighs and nudging them apart. “Fuck,” he breathed, looking up to see you in nothing but a bra. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

His words shot straight through to your core, your hips bucking toward him as you whined needily. “C’mon, Oikawa, stop teasing.”

“Stop teasing?” he mused, his breath hot against you as he hiked one of your legs onto his shoulder. “What kind of ridiculous request is that?”

“I thought this was supposed to be my apology,” you replied, trying to use your grip on his hair to redirect him.

“Don’t make me regret telling you,” he muttered, dragging a finger up your slit and feeling the wetness through the material of your panties. “Fuck, you’re soaked.”

You moaned, half-pleasure and half-annoyance. “Yeah, because you’re such a fucking tease.”

“Aw, stop trying to flatter me, beautiful, you know I have an insufferable ego.”

You rolled your eyes, choking back a moan as he pressed his fingertip roughly onto your clit. Your legs shook as you regripped his hair, doing your best to stay upright. At that, Oikawa’s impatience took over, and he yanked your panties down, dropping your legs just long enough for you to get them off.

When his fingertips dragged across your soaked pussy, it was like someone shooting fire through your veins. His touch was light, still teasing, and in drastic contrast with the intensity of his kisses.

“Oikawa,” you moaned, tipping your head back against the lockers. “Goddamn it.”

He laughed, the rumble sending shockwaves through you. “You look so good begging for me,” he mused, still gently tracing his fingers through your folds, just barely avoiding your clit. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to slam you against these goddamn lockers and just have my way with you.”

“Then have your way with me,” you begged, the sounds coming from you downright pitiful. “Please just touch my clit already.”

“Like this?” he asked, flicking his thumb against it. Your back arched, and it was only his grip on your thigh keeping your upright. “Fuck,” he chuckled, his mouth only centimeters from your pussy. “You really are needy.”

“Oh my god, Tooru,” you whined. “Stop being such an asshole.”

At the sound of his first name, Oikawa let out a low moan. With a quick glance up at your face, he lowered his lips to you, desperate to hear you moan his name again. He started with broad, slow strokes, his tongue just barely brushing against your clit before making another stroke.

“That’s it beautiful,” he murmured, sliding two fingers inside you with ease. “So, fucking tight.”

You were already on the brink of orgasm, his teasing alone enough to put you on edge. And now, with his absolutely skillful mouth on your pussy, you didn’t think you’d be able to last long.

Oikawa’s fingers were long and perfect inside you, searching out just the right spot to make you come undone. He hummed with pleasure when he brushed against the spongey patch that almost made you scream with pleasure.

You could barely even form words anymore—the combination of his fingers inside you and his tongue flicking rhythmically over your clit was sending your body into overdrive. All you could do was whimper his name, your hands in his hair as you tried desperately not to collapse on top of him. Your legs were sore, Oikawa holding them firmly apart so that you didn’t suffocate him, and you could feel your arousal running down your thighs.

Pulling away for just a second, Oikawa looked up at you with a grin. “You seem just about ready to cum all over my face, beautiful.”

You nodded hurriedly, pushing his head back toward you. “Please, Tooru, I’m so close.”

His mouth returned to your clit, alternating between sucking and flicking so quickly that the sensations started to meld together. Your eyes squeezed shut, your mouth falling open as you hurtled toward the edge.

“Tooru, I’m—fuck—I’m cumming!”

He held your thighs a bit tighter, keeping you upright as you came undone for him. Electricity seemed to shoot through you, your mind going blank of everything but his mouth on your clit and his fingers inside you. It was almost overwhelming—you had never cum so hard in your life. When you finally came down, your body was weak, being hit with little aftershocks as Oikawa slipped his fingers out.

“That’s it, beautiful,” he murmured, lowering your leg to the ground and taking a firm grip on your hips. “Fuck, you looked so good cumming for me.”

Slowly, you pulled your eyes open to see him looking at you, his brown eyes warm and his pupils blown wide with desire. You dropped your hands to his shoulders, pulling him to you for a kiss.

“That was some apology,” you murmured, holding him tight against you. “Feels like you could use a little help now, though.”

He bit back a moan as you jerked your hips into his bulge. His shorts didn’t do a good job of hiding it, and you were absolutely desperate to get him naked now.

“We don’t have to right now,” he said, his voice soft as he cupped your cheek surprisingly tenderly. “This was your apology, after all.”

You laughed, running your hands under his shirt to start pushing it off. “And you know what would really prove you’ve learned your lesson?”

“What?” he asked, grinning as he pulled his shirt the rest of the way off.

“If you fucked me,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his neck.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned, pressing you back into the lockers. “I’d be happy to.”

You palmed his erection through his shorts, feeling just how hard he was for you. “Do you have a condom?”

At that, his face dropped. “Shit, no, I don’t.”

“Really?” you asked, teasing him. “The great Oikawa Tooru doesn’t keep a condom stash with him at all times?”

“I’m not a complete animal,” he muttered, rolling his hips into your hand. “And I didn’t exactly plan on getting laid tonight.”

“Fuck.” You glanced over at the clock to see it was now well after 10:00 PM. “Well, that’s probably for the best anyway since we have to be on a bus in less than eight hours.”  

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he grumbled, still keeping you pinned against the lockers. “I finally take the condoms out of my locker and then this? Fucking cursed.”

You laughed, grabbing his face to pull him in for a kiss. “How about this? When you win all your matches tomorrow, you can come back to my place to celebrate?”

Smirking, he kissed you again. “And what if I don’t win all my matches?”

You rolled your eyes. “If by some miracle, some other team manages to beat you, I’ll be sure to console you appropriately.”

“Trying to make me throw my matches?” he laughed, running his hands down to your ass to squeeze tightly.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Jumping, you wrapped your legs around him. “So, you better win for me, got it?”

“Whatever you say, beautiful.”

~~~

Thanks so much for reading!! If you enjoyed this, be sure to check out my masterlist in my description, and feel free to send in requests!

[thenightling]

The Internet has forgotten what real ableism

The word Ableist is thrown around a lot where it doesn’t belong.

The way it is thrown around on the Internet it has been diminished an lost some meaning.   It's like the boy who cried wolf.

I’ve been called ableist on this Hell site twice.  Once for referring to the character Rumplestiltskin from Once Upon a Time as having a disability (The character walks with a cane because of a shattered ankle).  

Someone decided that acknowledging Rumplestiltskin has a disability is ableist because he “did it to himself.”   The character can’t walk without a cane.  But because they don’t like him and don’t sympathize with his backstory, he “doesn’t count” and if you say he has a disability “you are ableist” by default.   This... really happened...  

The other accusation was pretty recent.  It was someone angry at me for debunking Reality Shifting to F--king Hogwarts. Apparently explaining what Lucid Dreaming and maladaptive Daydreaming is now counts as Ableist.

The irony?  I am legally blind.  I’m not actually blind, it just means extremely poor eyesight.  

Hell, I saw Daredevil (the blind superhero) called ableist on this Hellsite because he called a serial killer “crazy.”  The character, in question, was The Punisher.  Yes, The Punisher was sympathetic.  But the blind Superhero, chained up by a known murderer, and being goaded to kill, is NOT “Ableist” for telling his own kidnapper that he’s crazy.  It’s not the most polite term but when you’re chained up by a killer you get a little slack, for God’s sake!  That doesn’t mean you forever call the blind character “Ableist”.

Neil Gaiman (the famous author) was called ableist right here on Tumblr and Facebook because he corrected the spelling of someone who sent him an antisemitic ask.  That’s right.  The Jewish author was called an ableist for... correcting a antisemite’s typo...   He was even sent an ask, asking him to defend himself, because someone had shown his reply to the antisemite to their Facebook group and the members said he was being ableist. The Jewish man was... being ableist... for correcting the typo... of someone sending him hate...  You can probably still find it on Neil’s blog.  You can’t make something like this up!   It’s just too profoundly stupid.  

Tumblr (and other sites) don’t know what ableism actually is and it’s infuriating.  You want to know what REAL ableism is?  

Ableism is being in kindergarten and for “safety” reasons they won’t let you play on the nice playground equipment all your friends are playing on because they’re afraid you’ll fall off with your poor eyesight but you can play on old, rusty, metal ones, making recess socializing really awkward and difficult.  THAT one is okay for some reason! Ableism is swinging around a toy animal with a long tail, accidentally hitting someone because you have no depth perception, the teacher KNOWING you have no depth perception, but still dedicating the afternoon to teaching the class why hitting is wrong, so it’s a humiliation fest because of an accident.

Ableism is being fifteen-years-old in high school and being the only kid who has to call home first to make sure “someone is there for you” to allow you to leave if school gets let out early.  Every... single... time... Ableism is knowing how to swim but the class fieldtrip to the public pool requires a permission slip and even with the permission slip you are only allowed in the wading pool.

Ableism is when Special Ed teachers treat you like you’re mentally disabled because it is the only disability they are used to. (This happens a LOT.)  It makes you feel like you’re stupid or that the world must see you as stupid so that when IQ tests arrive in the mail saying you have a superior intellect you break down crying.

Ableism is going to a school Speech therapy because you have a lisp (I lost my two front teeth when I was a two and they didn’t grow back in until I was almost thirteen).  And the speech teacher is used to neurological conditions where the student can’t shift topics in a conversation and decides you don’t need Speech therapy because you can hold a normal conversation.  Yes, but, I still couldn’t pronounce “Shh.”  I was there for a lisp!

Ableism is being bullied by other kids who pretend to miss their own mouth when eating to mock how poor your sight is. (Because you... see your mouth when eating?!?) Ableism is when a kid sings “O say can Amanda see” every single time we’re made to sing the Star Spangled banner so you come hate the National anthem  or “Three blind Pikes.”  (My name is Amanda Pike).   Three Blind Mice is already unpleasant enough.

Ableism is a teacher telling you she'll have your poetry published in an anthology but it must contain a short bio that says you're in the vision Impaired program.  As if that's the extent of who you are and the reason you'd be published and not because your writing is actually any good... Ableism is the head of the high school's "Vision impaired program" wanting to do "Vision awareness week" by pinning the names of everyone with visual disabilities all over the school.  Because that's not humiliating at all when there are kids already mocking you for your eyesight. Ableism is someone stealing your bookbag in Jr. High, and finding it later with the word “Cyclops” written across it in permanent marker.

Ableism is multiple reviews (including professional ones) whining that Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman audio drama adaptation should have been “updated” for modern audiences with certain parts taken out because it’s “problematic” even though this was literally the first version of the story accessible for the visually impaired or dyslexic. None of these reviews caring that anyone with a disability might want to know the story as it was originally written without having to have a friend read it out loud to them.  That’s ableism disguised as being “woke.”   “This thirty-four-year-old story doesn’t fit modern sensibilities. It should have been re-written.” while ignoring that for many this was their first time even having access to the story at all, warts and all, and sometimes you want to know how a thing was originally written- the good and the bad, not just the polished up and “updated” version.  Deliberately denying access to a story, as it was written, because you don’t like it, is ableist.     That’s ableism.

But...

When you’re called ableist for referring to a character who has a disability as having a disability simply because the person in question doesn’t like him...

When a blind character is called ableist for calling the man beating him up, chaining him up, and murdering people, crazy...

When a Jewish man is called ableist because he corrected the typo of an antisemite sending him hate...

When you’re called ableist for explaining what maladaptive daydreaming is and telling someone they aren’t magically gaining control of the universe where Harry Potter is real...

The word “Ableist” has lost all meaning.   And it’s infuriating.  As someone who has experienced genuine ableism since I was four-years-old, before the term was even coined, it is infuriating.  I knew some teachers, and students were treating me unfairly just because of my eyesight, but the term didn’t exist / wasn’t common yet.   And now the term is thrown around for stupid reasons so it’s diminished.

[chalkrevelations]

SO. Word of Honor, Episode 10, and everyone is deep in their feelings … well, their feeling, which is misery.

First, due diligence, and I really mean it on this one: SPOILERS not just for this ep but for the entire show. Out of the car, for now, and come back later, if you want to watch the whole thing unspoiled.­­

Well, it’s the breakup episode, y’all. Everyone is wallowing in misery, and Our Couple is taking that out on themselves and in some cases (:cough:WKX:cough) ­on everybody around them. We open on sad-sack Wen Kexing digging sadly in the dirt with a sword, the bodies of the Four Sages of Anji laid out beside him as he gives a RIP speech about how you have to be careful when making friends, because they’ll turn out to be bad news, which is clearly yet another warning about himself, because I don’t think anyone in the mob who killed these aging hippies in the last ep was a friend (although I suppose it could be argued that WKX is talking about their friendship with Gao Chong getting them killed) and anyway, you have to understand that WKX is a demon under the skin, not even really human, you guys, and he’s only ever going to disappoint everyone. Has he not made this clear by now? His sword breaks at this point, which probably ought to tell him he’s not going to be able to bury any of this mess. Then Zhou Zishu shows up and is understandably unhappy at the way his decision last ep to walk out on faith for this guy has gone completely pear-shaped, and he asks some rather pointed questions about whether four dead Sages of Anji is what WKX wanted and if he’s happy now – questions that sound, my dude, a little confrontational. I mean, I think you’re entitled, given the situation, but I’m just sayin’. WKX flings off ZZS’s hand and wants to know if “Leader Zhou” has only ever killed bad people, which is a hit that lands, and it hurts, just like it was supposed to, and this is definitely one of those nightmare scenarios where everyone just keeps digging themselves deeper. ZZS is all, FINE THEN, and leaves. Again. Because WKX is apparently a demon in human form who’s only ever going to disappoint everyone. Including his zhiji. I love you with all of my heart, ZZS, but a little bit, you come off like you only showed up to twist the knife, my man. Anyway, ZZS stomps off to go mope at Yuefan Tower, the scene of his bad decision to trust this guy BEFORE finding out he sets up revenge murders for fun. We’re treated to a flashback sequence of some of ZZS’s Tian Chuang state-sanctioned violence, including a pile of bodies in a burned-out house with a little girl who reaches out to him and calls him “shushu” (which I think is a reference to something that actually happens in Qi Ye); killing that official dude and making Jing’an drink poison, from Ep 1; inserting the Seven Nails into Bi Changfeng - a whole bunch of bad shit that WKX has dug back up way more successfully with a few words than that grave he was trying to dig with his broken sword. ZZS sighs mournfully and unfairly beautifully (your FACE, my dude) over the fact that he thought he found his soulmate, but he was apparently WRONG, and meanwhile, we see Han Ying lurking worriedly and devotedly in the background.

Then, both of these morose motherfuckers proceed to drink themselves (even more) stupid over each other, WKX in a brothel and ZZS moping by himself downstairs at the (No Longer) Getting Lucky Inn, leaving poor Han Ying and A-Xiang to eventually deal with them. ZZS is literally falling over as he calls for more wine – you are a sloppy drunk, laopo, although I have to admit, you’ve worked your way through a lot of bottles, so I suppose it’s understandable – and WKX proceeds to drink his four ... five? ... four, I think, girls under the table and clearly has no intention of sleeping with them, because it might interfere with his waxing drunkenly and mournfully about finding a thing you thought you’d lost forever but not being able to keep it at the price of giving up your big revenge murder plan you’ve been working out since you were 8 years old. (Also because he’s gay af. I’m just sayin’.)

So, yeah, Han Ying and A-Xiang eventually have to deal with these two, and for my money, the single most important scene of the ep - thematically, at least - is the one we get between A-Xiang and WKX, where a couple of big things are going on. One of the themes I see again, running through this ep, is the separation between the human world and the world of “ghosts,” and how that line is policed, and how Wen Kexing tries to maintain it as a bright line, in order to maintain his own distance from Zhou Zishu and the world. Now that things have gone so spectacularly wrong with ZZS, he’s going to dig in on the “ghost” side of that line for all he’s worth – much harder than he was digging that grave for the Four Sages of Anji, given he breaks the sword and gives up halfway through on that one, but this one he’s determined to get all the way to the bedrock on. So yes, in this scene we get the theme made explicit again, of human-ghost separation - which will echo and rebound throughout the rest of the show, until we see its awful, gory truth made manifest when it turns out WKX is horrifically correct and A-Xiang is NOT, in fact, going to be allowed by “humankind” to leave Ghost Valley and walk up to the human world with her lover, while meanwhile, if WKX is going to get out of the valley, he’s not staying in the mortal world but is going to end up on the icy remote mountaintop. BUT ALSO, this may be the first time we really see the show put A-Xiang forward as a proxy for Wen Kexing. This is going to be an increasingly weighted Thing as we go on, of course, but what I didn’t remember on my first watch-through - even after I realized what they were doing with the A-Xiang/Cao Weining and Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu parallels further down the road – is that, in this first time we really see it, it’s not even about their respective love interests, it’s about their respective relationships with Chengling. I mean, clearly, clearly, when WKX is being a drunk asshole to A-Xiang about how she’s been too long in her human skin (and huh, interesting that, when we also have instances where fake skin disguises are literal), and DON’T EVER FORGET WHO YOU ARE, HEARTLESS AMETHYST FIEND GHOST VALLEY MASTER HEARTLESS AMETHYST FIEND, and who among them would ever pity you me you, he’s really talking about his recent breakup with ZZS, in which he got called a crazed psychopath just for setting up a few amusing revenge murders. But here’s the thing – what triggers the diatribe is A-Xiang saying she feels sorry for Chengling trapped in Yueyang Sect, in the course of nattering on about what’s up with Chengling, and what she and Chengling have been doing together, and how much Chengling misses WKX. Which is, A-Xiang tells WKX, a lot. After which WKX puffs himself up and proceeds to be a drunk asshole to her, because of course, he’s not worthy of having anyone care about him, they might think he’s human, or something, and then he’s only going to get hurt again when they find out he’s NOT. So, all that happens. We also find out in this conversation that Changing Ghost was responsible for the pile of heads; that A-Xiang was at the Funeral/Wedding Game and saw Deng Kuan become the last survivor and get set free in much better condition than he later showed up at Yueyang Sect, so what the hell’s happened to him in between; and that A-Xiang definitely thinks her Murder Dad master is crazy but isn’t afraid that he’ll end up killing her someday. I mean, let’s be clear, I don’t think she’s absolutely positive that he won’t go crazy and kill her – she’s just not afraid of it. Zhou Ye is fantastic here, because she has A-Xiang give WKX this gorgeous little smile that’s so simple yet just so filled with love and trust and faith and everything that must have kept his heart alive all those years, the one that she probably gave him even after he burned her mouth on congee that was too hot, and I end up clutching my chest because I think she’s killed me. And then in a horrible twist on what’s eventually coming down the pike, she tells him that she’d follow him even if he’s crazy, and that if he killed her, she’d even follow him in death, and GOD. MY HEART. Because we’re going to see that in fact, he’s going to almost follow her into death, and then he’s going to dream of her leaving him instead of actually staying with him after death, and the only thing keeping me together at this point is the idea that Nian’xiang will actually be A-Xiang reincarnated so that she can be with WKX and the rest of her family again.

Anyway, all of this is apparently a dress rehearsal for WKX, because he then gets himself dolled up in some luscious green robes and proceeds to go to Tragicomic Ghost’s mansion in order to terrorize the troops and spread the misery. He requests a report from all of his top ten nine eight devils; credits them with three Funeral Games (I guess we don’t get to see the other two), annihilating Danyang Sect, destroying Mirror Lake Sect, killing Mount Tai Sect’s leader (Ao Laizi), and leaving a pile of heads for Yueyang Sect to find. He’s doing his best Lunatic Wen bit, but come on, my friend, do they really deserve credit for ALL of that? Do they really? It sounds like you have your suspicions, as well, because you want to know who was responsible for the Mirror Lake massacre. Everyone looks around, pointedly not meeting his eyes, so, hmm, it must have been Long-Tongued Ghost, right? Right? (Who we last saw getting killed and getting his (Danyang) Glazed Armor took by Wen Kexing while pretending to be Hanged Ghost.) Changing Ghost, who’s supposedly Long-Tongued Ghost’s superior and who’s smart enough to sense the wind shifting, even if he’s not sure in which direction, hastily says that LTGhost doesn’t listen to him anymore. (Yeah, because he’s dead.) At this point, White Grim Reaper is dumb enough to draw attention to himself, and WKX chokes him out just ‘cause. ‘Cause he’s Lunatic Wen, and fuck you, that’s why. Both Tragicomic Ghost and Beauty Ghost look more Completely Done With This Bullshit than scared – in contrast to the men, who are shitting their pants - which is an early indication that their relationships with WKX are different than his relationships with the male Devils. WKX also makes some pointed comment about how oh dear, he’s killed someone, and they were already low on manpower, but as a chief of GHOSTS, that’s all he has to work with, isn’t that RIGHT, Changing Ghost – which sounds on the surface kind of like policing that line between ghosts and humans, but really seems more like he has his suspicions about exactly who Changing Ghost is actually working with, because while he may not be as smart as A-Xu, he’s not DUMB. Now, let’s all come up with a plan to fuck over the Five Lakes Alliance during the Hero’s Conference. Aaaaand … end scene (and ep).

Meanwhile, Han Ying is dealing with his poor, drunk dumbass charge, and we see ZZS wake up in some richly appointed rooms, in some strange bed, and he’s clearly thinking “Oh snap. What I do last night?” Also, feeling the hangover. Once he manages to get his boots on, he notices a shrine, complete with candles, and just about this point, Han Ying busts in like he’s WKX or something (although to be fair, it is his bedroom), and wants to know exactly wtf is wrong with ZZS, getting blackout drunk with his actual face hanging out like he doesn’t care who recognizes him? (I just have to take a moment here, and point out that ZZS, who went all in, in the last ep, and who will continue to be the more open one as this relationship goes on, is being berated here for not wearing a mask, for showing his real self, while the issue for both A-Xiang and WKX is going to continue to be keeping on a protective mask/skin, even though WKX accuses A-Xiang himself in this very ep of thinking the mask is real and not just a cover for her true face. Anyway.) Oh, and also, My Lord, how is your injury? DO YOU NEED SOMEONE TO TENDERLY CARE FOR YOU? I like this scene, because Han Ying’s actually kind of angry at ZZS, and a little bit, he shows it, and we get to see that he’s not spineless, even in the (blindingly beautiful) face of ZZS, he’s just devoted. And if that means keeping this dumbass safe from himself, well, Han Ying will try to do that, too, even if it’s enough to drive him to find religion, as we also find out in this scene, explaining the shrine. I suppose he needs all the help he can get. Anyway, ZZS tells him that he’s too mean to die just yet, although he doesn’t expect any blessings on his path, and Han Ying responds – and I think this is important, given ZZS’s decision last ep to spend the rest of his life living instead of dying – that “any day we live is a day gained.” (HAN YING. MY BELOVED.) ZZS pulls some Glazed Armor out of his robes to give to Han Ying, and they both realize that it looks exactly like two pieces Han Ying already has his hands on, gdi WKX. At this point, ZZS reiterates that he just wants Han Ying to lay low and stay safe, Han Ying reiterates his undying devotion, and ZZS has clearly had it with these kids and their starry-eyed devotion. He tries telling Han Yng again to just live a good life - as if Han Ying is at all wired that way – before making some dramatic pronouncement about expecting to have to deal with what’s coming to him in hell and sweeping out the door in the last we see of him this ep.

Let’s see, other things that happened:

Gao Chong, Zhao Jing and Shen Shen confer over their complete loss of face in the run-up to the Hero’s Conference; Shen Shen gets very offended and denies killing Ao Laizi, which is the rumor going around town; Gao Chong says the Ghost Valley isn’t responsible for Ao Laizi’s death (which they are) or for spreading the rhyme about the Glazed Armor (which they are); Zhao Jing says Five Lakes Alliance can’t get a reputation for forcing other sects to do things (when he can manipulate them into doing what he wants), and Shen Shen wants to know WHY THE HELL NOT (oh, Shen Shen) when the jianghu has always been, and I QUOTE, “a place where the strong pery on the weak,” so again, I have to kind of side with WKX on this one about the hive of scum and villainy. Or I would if you guys seemed capable of actually accomplishing anything.

Elsewhere in Yueyang Sect, it’s been Bullying Hour again for Chengling, and A-Xiang is furious when she finds out, threatening to break the legs of whoever’s responsible for smacking him around (she really is like the most delightful Chengxian love-child, I have to say). She also has some Wolong Nuts – crispy and delicious! – for him. Gao Xiaolian shows up with some treats, but Chengling doesn’t want her food, and also he doesn’t want to marry her, because he doesn’t want to be Gao Chong’s puppet, which is kind of new, because he said a couple of eps ago at the Five Lakes monument that he would abide by Gao Chong’s decisions. I guess now that he’s found out from A-Xiang that their Murder Dads are still around, he thinks there’s still a chance to run away with them. Gao Xiolian runs away, crying. Harsh, Chengling, but it does give him the chance to complain to A-Xiang that he’s effectively under house arrest, WHERE ARE OUR MURDER DADS TO SAVE ME?

Last but not least, there’s this incredible scene with Yu Loser Qiufeng, leader of Mount Hua Sect, in which one of the Mount Hua Virgins (tm WKX) comes complaining that everyone is looking down on them. Yu Qiufeng tells him that the entire jianghu is falling apart and to suck it up, and then another Virgin (tm WKX) shows up to say that some people from Mount Tai Sect are here to talk about Dead Ao Laizi, because the Five Lakes Alliance killed him omg. Yu Quifeng’s response is literally “Tell them I’m not here,” and when the disciple wants to know how he can possibly say that, Qiufeng’s response is literally “Say I went out. Say I’m sick. Say I’m dead.” (OMG, Zongzhu can’t see you right now, he’s dead!)

[nikosasaki]

hello! here is an excuse to talk to abt whatever you want for the midnight murder club! i love them!

waaahhh u get me, okay so. spoilers ahead for anyone that cares about that sort of thing;

the way I'm planning on writing it is separating the chapters in a way that you follow one of the five girls every chapter, kinda like character-based episodes on a show. it's all third person point of view still, but this way you get more of an insight into all of the girls' inner lives and motivations.

Mo Acosta

Mo is my main girl, she's where the story starts and ends basically. At the start of the story Mo is being ridiculed by her linguistics professor, professor Willems, in front of their entire lecture hall. this is not the first time he's done this, but it's the moment that Mo decides she wants revenge on the man in some sort of way.

Mo is the ring leader of the girls. she brings all of them together and she's the driving force behind most of the story. she's a laid-back girl, generally speaking, who isn't exactly sure what she wants to do with her life. she's a second-year English major who works for the campus radio and is secretly very smart, just unmotivated.

during the story Mo gets tangled up with a guy from her linguistics class, Wes, and eventually they become a very cute couple. key word being eventually, because there's a lot of mess to get through first.

Riley Chase

while drafting I've just been calling Riley "the muscle" of the group, and while she isn't necessarily known for getting into a lot of fights that still rings pretty true. Riley, just like Mo, is a second-year English major, but unlike Mo she actually works for it.

Riley has been trying to take down professor Willems for almost a year now, ever since he tried to make a pass at her during the first semester of her second year. she thinks he's a huge creep aside from being a huge asshole, and she's the first person who willingly joins Mo's crusade against him.

Riley is really close with Yorkie when the story starts, and the two of them end up falling in love during the story. Riley has a pretty strong sense of loyalty in general, but it's a whole other thing when it comes to Yorkie. she would literally die for that girl.

Astrid Yorkes

Astrid has been going by Yorkie ever since her first week of college, and even now that she's in the middle of her first year the nickname hasn't exactly gone away. she's majoring in linguistics, and out of all of the girls she spends the most time with professor Willems.

in the beginning it seems like Yorkie only joins the club because Riley does, but throughout the story the girls learn that the professor assaulted Yorkie during her first semester. while the girls do feel terrible for her, this revelation comes at a point where the girls are desperate to find who actually killed Willems, and the knowledge causes a temporary rift between the five of them.

Yorkie is a sweetheart down to her very core, which makes the idea that she killed Willems pretty unbelievable to most everyone around her. still, the situation is bad, and the fact that she lied about it doesn't make it any better.

Quinn Morales

Quinn—affectionately nicknamed Q as a very obvious reference to james bond—is the brains of the operation. she's in her third year of a linguistics major and taking a minor in Latin. despite what people expect from a girl in her course with her grades she's actually a very calm, and oftentimes downright nihilistic, person at times.

during her second year Willems treated her unfairly, which screwed her grade, and she's been on the warpath ever since. in her eyes he's the reason she's basically fucked forever (her own words), because that one shitty grade means she'll never be able to graduate cum laude.

Q is one of the only girls that's basically never a suspect throughout the story, except in moments where the girls are all at odds with each other. if anything, all of them know that Quinn is too smart to commit a murder and not get away with it.

Olivia Foster

because every group of girls needs at least one archetypal hot girl, meet Olivia. she's pretty, popular, and probably thinks the sun revolves around her. at least, that's the way she comes off at a first glance. in reality Olivia really isn't the smartest girl in the world, but she has some hidden emotional depth that ends up surprising all of the girls around her. she's very smart in her own way and ends up being the person to actually solve most of the mystery.

Olivia had a weird entanglement with professor Willems and she became really bitter when it ended, which is the only reason she wants to get revenge on him honestly. it's something that she unpacks later on in the story and it becomes a whole mess in itself, but she does grow from it.

Liv and Mo know each other from their first year and they aren't exactly friends, making Mo hesitant to even ask Olivia to join her in the first place. they rekindle their friendship by the end of the story, and the two of them have a really interesting dynamic throughout.

other characters

so obviously there's professor Willems, the dead guy and if we're being honest one of the main villains of the story, but there's a few more people that are important to this story.

there's Wesley, a classmate of Mo, Riley, and Olivia, and the eventual love interest of Mo. he's the only person who is a witness to the girls being out late at the night of Willems' murder, and very quickly becomes one of the suspects on the club's list.

Hannah, professor Willems' old teaching assistent and a person that becomes very heavily involved in the club's research. she's kind and pretty unnasuming, but none of that makes her innocent in the girls eyes.

and finally Ryan, another classmate of Mo, Riley, and Olivia and one of Olivia's friends through her current boyfriend. he's one of those 'surely couldn't have done it' types, which makes him all the more suspicious in Quinn's eyes specifically.

and that's it! I won't get into too much plot stuff bc a) I'm still working on it and b) would be a shame to spoil it all right now, wouldn't it?

[acyclops]

I can’t find where/when I ever talked about Maddie but I’m just tired of any discourse that claims one is a victim and the other isn’t, or discourse that turns either one of them into a villain. They’re both victims in their own ways.

Maddie was a victim the very second Sinister created her for the only purpose to fall in love with Scott and give him a kid. She was supposed to be a tool and nothing but a tool in one of Sinister’s schemes and she wasn’t even allowed to have a personality of her own because either she couldn’t remember her past or the things she did have were memories from Jean. Her anger towards Scott is valid because she fell in love with him (both because it was meant to happen, but also because this love perhaps stepped beyond what Sinister could be in control of because it takes a special kind of stupid to create a human being with thoughts and a consciousness to not expect them to develop desires, dreams and goals for their own) and she got these hopes and dreams of getting a family with a husband and their child and a white-picket-fence. But she had to see her lover prioritize his old life over her still, after she compromised so much of her own life for him. Maddie feels like she’s been treated unfairly by Scott and she feels like she’s doing everything in the marriage to keep it together and make it work at least a little bit. Her feelings are valid, and her anger doesn’t make her a villain. It’s not (only) her feelings of anger with Scott that turned her into the Goblin Queen, it’s the goblins that did. They came to Maddie in a moment of utter weakness and helplessness when she, for once, had absolutely no one (not even the X-Men who had taken her under their wing at that time) to watch over her. They came to her after some dream/manipulated image of Scott stealing her face and putting it onto a faceless Jean. And they took her at her most vulnerable and turned her into this...possessed persona that brought out all her rage and anger and grief and amplified it severely.

Scott was a victim of Sinister, because he wasn’t aware at that time, Maddie was sent to Scott as a part of one of Sinister’s schemes and he has been all over Scott’s life since the very early years. He is a victim of his own feelings, emotions and the poor ways he deals with them or how he rather flees from them instead of acknowledging them. He was still grieving for Jean, when Maddie came into his life. He was confused, and at first he could never tell if he fell for Maddie because of her resemblances to Jean or if he loved Maddie for Maddie. But Scott is someone who never wears his feelings on his sleeve and when he feels something (certainly something like love), he feels it intensely and genuinely. Just because he doesn’t wear his feelings on his sleeve and doesn’t voice them or his thoughts out loud all the time doesn’t mean that he doesn’t actually feel them. He felt love for Maddie, but he never fell out of love with Jean, just like he didn’t fall out of love with Maddie when Jean came back. Scott has been the victim of his own love and how strong he felt it for either woman. He didn’t cheat on Maddie with Jean, because when Jean returned he was incredibly conflicted about what he’s supposed to do next. He wanted to go back to Maddie and his son, but by the time he got around to do so...they were gone! Scott married Maddie likely because he was afraid of losing someone he loves yet again, because in a sense...marriage might just last beyond death (at least through sickness and through health, and on good times as well as the bad, etc.) She is the second woman in his life he ever felt this strongly for, and she might as well be the first (and only, he thought at that time) to give him some kind of forever — something good.

The more I think about it, the more I just feel like Maddie was done injustice by poor writing. They put her on the X-Men team, made her feel like the human piece of empathy on the team while giving her a good role within the team as a tech-savvy pilot only to later on claim that she has been manipulating the X-Men all along to regard X-Factor as an evil organization under the leadership of her lover whom she suddenly is supposed to hate. It isn’t until she is contacted by the goblins that her behavior begins to take a shift. And the manipulation is never really hinted at iirc until her encounter with Jean during Inferno. I’ve always been confused and wondered where that came from all of a sudden... It quite felt like one of the writers pulled that idea from their ass and everyone on the board just went with it?

Sure Scott hasn’t been the best father and husband through all of it, but the X-Men are quite literally his life. Other than them, he has only ever known abuse and hurt and rejection. They are his family and they eventually gave him reason to live. They are his responsibility and he would go through fire for them. He feels like they need him as much as he needs them. To give all of that up from one day to the other would be a drastic change. Fighting battles and protecting human- and mutantkind alike has been the only thing he’s known for so long. It’s his lifestyle. Even if he compromised for his family, it’s a lifestyle you can’t really leave behind at the X-Mansion with your combat boots and visor. Scott Summers lives a soldier’s life. Staying in Alaska with his family and not looking back at the X-Men would just drive Scott crazy. She could come along to live at the X-Mansion to be with Scott more often, but Maddie’s preference was with Alaska and had to take her husband’s regular absences with it eventually. They both made mistakes in their relationship and marriage, and weren’t given proper or enough time and opportunities to find the best middle ground — to make things work and grow together. Their relationship and marriage felt rushed (and iirc it only lasted for a year).

I’m just so tired of people putting the villain stamp on Maddie or Scott, while the real villain behind it all has been Sinister (and perhaps the goblins) all along. Maddie was a pawn in his game to fuck around with the Summers gene-pool once again and the whole family paid a hefty price for it.

[somefandomimagines]

Larry (SF) with an S/O that has a hard relationship with their parents

Due to a special request, these headcanons will be hurt/comfort! If you guys ever need any headcanons that would comfort you, feel free to dm me!! I’ll be glad to help <3 - When ya first met Larry, you had had a sudden burst of emotion and were crying - Everyone really just walked past you, trying to avoid whatever was going on. - But then up came Sal and Larry! The others were there too, but Larry was the first at your side - It was lunch, so that’s another reason why people passed you - But Larry didn’t care much for lunch, so as his friends walked off to get their food he stayed with ya - “Hey... Bro, you ok...?”  - His voice was soft, which was kinda unusual - But for some reason he felt like he NEEDED to be here for you - You refused to tell him what was wrong, but he stayed by your side the entire time. - He tried starting conversations, but when that kinda failed he went silent - He was still there with you, though. - Little did ya both know that he would soon be with you forever, ya know? - You guys started hanging out a lot! You met the gang and you were gaining friends! Yet you didn’t trust anyone as much as you’d trust Larry - The second time you broke down, he was by your side again.  - It happened when you two were just hanging out in his room while he painted. He stopped everything he was doing to be there for you - This time he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close into a side-hug - He didn’t bother asking more than “Are you ok?”, he just held you - He held you tightly in his arms, and the smell of his cheap cologne and probably something else just managed to make you feel safe - When you calmed down, he offered to get you a snack and some water. - He was so fuckin’ sweet to you - You were there for him too, when he had some breakdowns and all that - You both became practically glued together - But as time went on, your relationship with your parents didn’t get much better - You were begging for something. Someone or something to hold onto and give you the love and care you needed - And Larry? He noticed that - He gladly took care of you, and in return you did your best to take care of him - As you kept having more breakdowns, you two got closer and closer. He was always there for you... And soon he realized that he had fallen in love with you - You were goofy and caring and just - Perfect - You were perfect to him - Then one day you finally told him about the struggle with your parents, and how they treated you unfairly - He listened to all of it, he was there for you - As you spoke, he rubbed your back comfortingly and soaked in every word - When you started to cry, he wiped your tears away. - He gently held your face in his hands and spoke to you

“(Y/n)... It’s all going to be ok, bro... I’m here for you.. I always will be... There’s nothing that can take me away from you...” - His voice was so gentle and sweet - You could easily tell that he was speaking the truth - He was going to be there for you, forever and always - Then you realized... You had fallen for him too - You leaned into his touch as he wiped away another tear, you muttering a small thank you - He looked at you with such care in his eyes... You knew you were safe with him - Every time you had a breakdown, whether it be in public or not, he would stop everything and help you - He would always listen to you talk about your parents, he would soak in every word - He got his mom to start buying your favorite snacks for when you came over!! - And then he finally asked you out, probably not at the best time because you finished having a breakdown, but it was something - You guys just had a movie night, watching crappy horror movies and eating lotsa snacks while in each other’s arms - It was as romantic as you both could get, tbh - Though during one of the movies, you couldn’t keep it in. - Right as you started to cry, Larry paused the movie and pulled you close. - He would mumble sweet things to you, telling you that everything will be fine and nothing is your fault.  - It wasn’t your fault, afterall.  - Soon he slid his hands up your sides and to your face, where he gently wiped away your tears and held your face just like that one time.  - He reminded you that you’re safe - That you’re ok and everything will get better eventually - You both looked each other in the eyes, you could see how purely his emotions were shown - His gaze was filled with love, love for you and you only - And then it happened, ya know? - Kinda cheesy but... Ya guys kissed - It was soft and sweet despite how rough Larry’s lips were compared to yours - But it was still wonderful -You knew you were safe. You knew everything is going to get better. - It might take time, but you have Larry with you - He’ll be with you each step of the way

[outrunningthedark]

It’s not even that characters like Ana and abuela don’t care for Christopher. It’s the fact that they don’t see him as an equal or see him and other children as equals.

And yes Christopher is different and he doesn’t have the same opportunities as everyone else or he can’t do things the same way that everyone is use to.

But it doesn’t mean he’s unable to do anything. It doesn’t mean he’s weak or that his dad should get sympathetic looks.

It’s kind of like that one saying where your parents can live you but still hurt you

All these people can love Christopher and still hurt him because they see him as lesser even if they don’t mean to.

And the problem is that everyone else is willing to ignore that because they love him and that’s not okay. They are in the wrong and them treating him unfairly and loving him are two things that can and do coexist.

(This ask has been sitting in my inbox for a few days! My apologies!) Beware, y'all. I'm going to be talking about *gasp!* myself. Again. SPEAKING AS SOMEONE WITH CEREBRAL PALSY WHO WAS RAISED BY OVERPROTECTIVE PARENTS, while I understand that fear and anxiety were/are natural responses to my condition because my parents had never heard of cerebral palsy before I was born (I think they're still confused, tbh), their desire to "keep me safe" at all times severely hindered my growth as a person. From the time I was officially diagnosed around age two up until eighteen (aka the year when I became a legal adult in the US) I had little to no say in how I lived my life. I'm sure some of you are going to read that sentence and be like, "Well, duh. Neither did I. We were minors." I bet your parents weren't petrified to let you chew gum because they thought you wouldn't know not to swallow it, right? I bet your parents didn't have to be encouraged to let you TRY to use utensils. I bet your parents let you walk around public places with your friends and didn't feel the need to be your shadow. My life was lived on my parents' terms, and that's why literally NOTHING prepared me for becoming an adult. Nothing prepared me for sitting in a doctor's office and having all attention focused on me because I'm my own guardian now! I make the decisions! Nothing prepared me for the first time my mother left me alone overnight in the hospital because she no longer felt obligated to be there - the doctors don't *need* to talk to her! (I cried. A lot. And I cried when it happened again later on.) Nothing prepared me for the realization that I DON'T KNOW HOW TO BE INDEPENDENT OUTSIDE MY HOME. And whenever I think about taking that step, I feel my pulse start to pick up because the possibility TERRIFIES me. I would rather not try something at all than try, fail, and end up feeling more worthless than I already do. In my opinion, the thing parents and guardians conveniently forget when they're doing their best to help us out and protect us is that... they're not going to be around forever. There will come a day when the person(s) we so heavily rely on to get us through life are gone from this earth. Will be ready? Will we be okay?

[jojosbizarrefanfics]

omg that all might request where he asks reader out on a picnic was so cute!!! can we get a smutty part 2? how did their date go? 👀

aw thank you!!! ofc! i’m always here for sweet smut with toshi 

Toshinori could have stayed in the park with you all day. It was really crowded as everyone had the same idea that weekend to enjoy the blossoms, with a few street food vendors selling seasonal treats. Toshinori found a smaller tree in a less busy corner of the park, but its blooms were just as beautiful as the rest, and it provided a great view of the whole area. As he grabbed the bentos he bought for the two of you, you pulled out some iced green tea bottles from your bag.

“It’s so pretty, isn’t it?” You asked as the breeze blew through, making the flowers gently sway. It looked like a movie scene, you thought, and you couldn’t believe you were sharing this moment with Toshinori. 

Toshinori smiled as he looked at you and the way you admired the flowers. “Yeah, it is.”

So this is what normal felt like, he thought, or at least mostly normal. He could get used to this. 

Toshinori was pleasantly surprised at how long you two were able to just sit underneath the sakura tree, chatting and enjoying each other’s company, without anyone even noticing you were there. It was like the sakura provided a cloak around you two because everyone was so caught up in hanami that it allowed for him to be caught up in it, too. Normally, PDA would have terrified Toshinori - he didn’t want to put a target on your back, after all, whether it be from villains or tabloid journalists - but he felt confident enough in your little corner of the park to hold your hand once you were done with your lunch, now just swapping stories and sakura mochi.

But that veil of privacy the sakura provided didn’t last forever, especially as people began to wrap up their own picnics. 

“Oh, is that All Might?”

“Look, All Might’s over there!”

“Is that All Might and Mind-eye?” 

You both knew that meant it was time to call it a day, and you begrudgingly packed your things so you could head back to your apartment. 

“I had a really fun day,” you said when you reached your apartment.

“Sorry it got cut short,” Toshinori said. “But I did too!”

“We can continue it inside, if you’d like?” 

Toshinori’s eyes widened in mild surprise, and then he smiled and nodded. 

The second the door was closed and locked behind you, you dropped your purse and kissed Toshinori. His mild surprise from a moment ago turned into shock, but he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to him. When you both pulled away for a breath, Toshinori coughed, barely making it into his handkerchief.

“Sorry! Sorry. What a buzzkill.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you said.

“I do, though,” he said nervously. “I’ve wanted to kiss you again all day, and then I finally get to, and then this damn cough--” 

You smiled - no, smirked - as you brushed some of Toshinori’s hair out of his face. He liked the feeling. “Toshi, it’s fine. There’s no rush. We’ve got all day.” 

Toshinori kissed you again, deep and slow, to really take his time with you. His first time kissing you earlier was chaste and sweet, but this time it was pure passion marked by tastes of sakura mochi, green tea, and blood. Your hands slowly moved from his neck to his chest, and it sent shivers down Toshinori’s spine. 

His own hands ran down your sides, exploring the shape of your curves, and when he landed at your hips, he pulled away from the kiss. You weren’t sure why until Toshinori asked, “Is this okay with you?”

You nodded, giving him all the permission he needed to kiss you again and continue. His hands gripped your hips tightly as your hands made their way to his biceps, all the while the kiss picked up where it left off. Toshinori’s hands slid down to your ass, rested there for a brief moment, and then he lifted you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist - just because he wasn’t a Pro Hero anymore didn’t mean he still wasn’t strong - and let Toshinori carry you to your bedroom. You let your shoes fall to the ground along the way, not paying much attention to where they clunked on the floor. Toshinori was doing his best to not stumble as he kissed and carried you, and one of your hands reached out and smacked the doorframe to your bedroom so he knew which room to go in. 

When Toshinori felt your bed against his knees, he kicked his shoes off while he laid you down on your bed, and was soon on top of you to continue your kiss. He discarded his jacket while kissing you, and once that was gone, you undid the the top two buttons on his shirt. 

You pulled away from the kiss and found yourself making eye contact with him - that bright blue was so beautiful, especially as the late afternoon sunlight streamed into your bedroom - and you asked Toshinori, “Is this okay with you?” in regards to his shirt.

“It is very much okay with me, (YN),” Toshinori said rather seriously, not breaking eye contact. You leaned up to reunite your lips, wanting to feel the warmth of his against you again, and worked on the rest of his shirt’s buttons. 

Toshinori gently ran a large hand up your leg, starting at your knee. You felt his long fingers splayed across your thigh as he reached up, and when he reached the waistband of your white stockings, you raised your hips to help him remove them. He only stopped kissing you to bring your stockings down, going at what felt like a tantalizingly slow pace. Once your stockings were off, he tossed them to the floor and let his now unbuttoned shirt join the pile. When he glanced back up at you, with the way your skirt had slid up your thighs a bit, he caught a glimpse at your panties beneath.

Despite his lankiness, he still maintained quite a bit of toned muscle. You knew he had a large scar by his ribcage, but this was your first time seeing it. If Toshinori was self-conscious about what you’d think of it (he was), he didn’t show it, but based on some of his comments earlier, you thought he might be.

“Does it hurt?” You asked Toshinori.

“No,” he said. “I think it’ll always be a bit tender. But it’s fine.”

“Just making sure,” you said. “I’ll be gentle just in case.”

Toshinori’s heart swelled in his chest; you always knew what he was really thinking, even when he was trying to put on a brave face. His thumbs hooked into the waistband of your skirt, which soon followed your stockings and his shirt in the pile on the floor. As he was removing your skirt, you ditched your sweater, letting it form a second pile that you’d worry about later.

Toshinori took a moment to admire your figure in nothing but your bra and panties, running his hands up and then down. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?”

“I think we’re a little unfairly dressed, Toshi,” you said as you sat up and reached for his belt and pants, unbuckling and unzipping. He stood to fully take them off, but was right back on top of you soon after.

He couldn’t keep his hands off of you once they were on, and one of those large hands slipped beneath your bra to cup your breast. Calloused fingers ran over your nipple, taking it between them, and your back arched a bit reflexively at the feeling of Toshinori’s touch. With his other hand, he gripped at your hip again, still unsure if this truly were happening to him, but he realized this was very much a reality when he felt your palm slowly run up his shaft.

Toshinori was already hard, but grew even harder at your touch. He moaned into your mouth and the hand fondling your breast gave it a squeeze, and the hand on your hip trailed down to your panties. He slipped his hand under it, and he moaned again when he felt that you were already wet. Toshinori moved his lips down your whole body until he reached your underwear, which he slid off delicately and then buried his face between your legs.

You kicked your underwear off as Toshinori began to eat you out. Your hands immediately went for his hair as his tongue worked wonders, truly exploring you as Toshinori’s hands gripped at your thighs. He relished in hearing your moan his name, feeling rather accomplished, and he didn’t stop until you came in his mouth twice. He had to pause to cough into his handkerchief after that, apologizing the whole way, but his apology got cut short when you had your mouth around his cock. When Toshinori looked down and saw you in nothing but your bra sucking him off, he thought he was dreaming again. But before he could get close from the feeling of your mouth wrapped around him, he said lowly, “Get back on the bed.”

The smirk returned to your face and you did as instructed. Toshinori climbed on top of you, barely letting you settle all the way on to your bed, hungry for more of you. When Toshinori’s cock slid into you, you both moaned at the feeling. You gripped at his shoulders as both of your hips found a rhythm, working in sync with one another. Toshinori’s lips trailed down your neck at the same slow pace he was thrusting into you, and he smiled into your skin at the feeling of your third climax, but this time around him. 

Truth be told, you had been wishing for this with your dear friend for a long time. You had known him for years and no one captivated you like he did, and even without your Quirk, you understood the layers deep down that he didn’t really share with anyone. The last few months especially had been a time of bonding for you two, and you always wondered if a bonding beyond friendship would be possible with Toshinori. 

You decided to surprise him by flipping him onto his back, keeping him inside of you, and transitioning to you riding him. Toshinori smiled as you began to rock your hips up and down on his cock, and his hands ran to your hips to guide you at the same pace as before. Your hands ran down his chest to his stomach - you were careful to do so extra gingerly when passing his scar, but you didn’t avoid it entirely so he wouldn’t think you were deterred by it - and then back up to rest on his pecs. 

After a few minutes of this and a fourth orgasm from you, Toshinori muttered, “(YN), I’m so close.”

“Can I taste you?”

Toshinori did not expect those words to come out of your mouth, especially with such a sweet tone, but he’d be damned if he denied you that. He nodded, letting you slowly slide off of him and return your mouth to his cock. You could taste yourself a bit on him, but that was soon washed out by the flavor of his cum - mild, slightly sweet, but still with a signature tang that was uniquely his. He ran his fingers through your hair while thinking that the sight of you looking up at him innocently as he came in your mouth was the hottest thing he’d ever see in his life.

When you returned to eye-level with him, he took you in his arms and kissed the top of your head. You were quiet for a few moments, the two of you processing everything that happened that day. Toshinori looked beyond content to be holding you, but there was a hint of worry there that he was hiding. You focused for a moment to use your Quirk, tapping into his mind, and then said, “I know you’re not just here for this, Toshi, don’t worry.” 

There it was - your Quirk in action. He almost forgot that you could read minds, which was why your Pro Hero name used to be Mind-eye. “How long have you been using your Quirk for?” Toshinori asked, startled.

“I haven’t until right now,” you reassured him. “Something looked like it was bothering you. I didn’t want to hurt you or anything.”

“Well, I’m glad you know, anyway,” he said with a nervous laugh that turned into another one of his coughs. “I didn’t want you getting the wrong idea. This was not what I had planned for today, but I’m not complaining.” 

You laughed. “That makes two of us.”

“You know,” Toshinori said, “I’ve had feelings for you since you told me I was in good company and not to worry. I don’t know why, but... but that really helped me. You’ve really helped me.”

His sappy side was starting to come out, not that you minded. You pressed a kiss to Toshinori’s nose and snuggled closer to him. “I’m glad I could.”