#he does have a bit of an ego

[batfam-belfry]

Damian finally claiming one of his brothers

[p1ctur3]

@octdl-lee

Random captive TDL au lore dump and some behind the scenes stuff since you asked so nicely :]

Dark in captivity

victim did use dark as a way to train and get the mercs and him used to the box

victim and agent (i would probably explore their dynamic in this au also, mitsi would haunt this narrative because yes)

some behind the scenes things

additional art

[evviejo]

STAR TREK: VOYAGER // S4E17 Retrospect I fancied myself a psychologist, a ship's councillor, but I wasn't prepared for the complexities that come with such a responsibility.

[bumblingbabooshka]

[TUVOKTOBER: Day 17] Little Things Grown with Care.

[starflungwaddledee]

it's the day before my birthday, and my girlfriend surprised me with an outing to a local bird aviary/botanic gardens in the mountains!!!

this was an absolute delight for me, known bird enjoyer, and i got to have many cute and phenomenal birds perched on my head (which i loved and plushie magolor 'tolerated', on account of it being my birthday). i even got to see a nicobar pigeon, which i had never seen in person before!

they also surprised me with an early birthday present to use at the incredible mountain-top picnic spread my gf planned (😭😭) of this extraordinarily cute kirby themed liquid-glitter cup!!

and of course, in true starflung fashion i injured myself twice

once, not three minutes into the outing when my umbrella (which i only require because i'm allergic to both the sun and sunscreen) bit me, and my gf had to run to reception to get me a bandaid. later, when i just totally fkn stacked it on some loose gravel on a slope and i got the umbrella back by slamming it into the ground, along with my knees and one palm. but not the other palm, which was holding plushie magolor, who touched neither gravel nor dirt and never will while i still breathe!

[cleromancy]

bibo giving himself the joys c section scar makes me feel so crazyyyyy like transition wouldnt have saved him cuz he'd never even try it he just does this type of shit instead

[compacflt]

I just wanted to say as someone who has stumbled across your blog and has read your Wednesday wips and posts about anything topgun related that your thought process and consideration of mav and ice, specifically their political beliefs and relationships with their own identities, is honestly so impressive and cool. You have brought such realism and life to these characters which is just so refreshing to see. idk i just wanted to express how cool and awesome i think that is

Because of the thought into these characters does it make it difficult to like them or understand them if you have differing opinions from them? for me personally i feel like if i were to ever actually have a convo with ice or mav regarding identity politics i would actually start to lose my mind (like how one feels when your dad or fun uncle talks for too long at thanksgiving dinner). If it does make them difficult to like, does that make it difficult for you to write them sometimes?

oh yeah! i think, my ice i really empathize with & really love & really could get along with, once he grows out of the sexism of his teens & twenties, but my maverick drives me crazy. someone sent in an ask a while ago that was like “WHY is cyclone simpson your one true love??” And it’s because i too would absolutely hate maverick & hate working with him lol. people who are overly cocky & un-self-aware & a bit self-centered make me CRAZY. (narrator voice: compacflt is a hypocrite as all these things also apply to compacflt.)

Politically… It’s difficult to say. no one really wants to hear the intricacies of one person’s political journey, which is why i won’t give you mine, but suffice to say—since the start of the russian invasion of Ukraine, and my semi-concerted effort to learn more about the political landscape of modern warfare, my own personal beliefs have shifted a whole bunch. definitely aided in that shift by my top gun fic project that specifically aims to understand the conservative straight-passing male mindset as it relates to military matters… there are many end goals to a project like mine, but one end product is a filter you can take away and hold up in front of your eyes and see the world through it. When writing from the eyes of a conservative straight (passing) white man, your priorities totally shift. I had to write from the perspective of someone who doesn’t care about identity politics. Because they don’t! A core tenet of conservatism is very proudly not caring about that stuff, and being very annoyed when people (usually left-of-centers) make that stuff very visible and want you to care about it! “Don’t shove it in my face,” etc., etc. Don’t force me to care about this taboo, private thing I really don’t care about. It violates my freedoms, or whatever, to be forced to care—or even bear witness to—stuff that i don’t care about. Etc. And then, to be nominally a part of that community that you really, really don’t care about, and then to be told that you have to care about it because of your publicity… people asking you to be proud of something that has had a negative connotation for much of your entire life… that’s not a transformation that happens easily.

Jesus, I could write an essay about this. I have, several times by now in responses to asks over my blog. But there is so much that I could talk about. I think… I really worry that some of my writing falls into the first of the below categories:

I really try not to romanticize conservatism in my writing—I tried to show that ice and mav’s happiness is the price they pay for their conservatism. They’re actively choosing to be unhappy—but because they prioritize their honor over everything, due to EXTERNAL PRESSURES they cannot control, and which I think are often ignored in the fandom space for one reason or another. The fact of the matter is, in 99% of IPs, characters prioritize something other than their sexualities. It’s never Maverick’s personal identity that is at stake in either Top Gun or Top Gun: Maverick, because he has built himself so impermeably masculine that there are no grounds upon which to question his personal identity. He just isn’t thinking about it. He’s thinking about how to get into Charlie’s pants, how to win the Top Gun trophy, how to uphold his promise to Goose, et cetera. If he’s fucking guys on the side, it’s because he wants to and because hes maverick and he does what he wants without thinking about it—that’s the whole point of his character, from a story-construction standpoint. That’s his archetype. He’s a renegade maverick superstar who is both thoughtlessly brilliant and thoughtlessly dangerous. He’s thoughtless. His priorities are to survive and to look cool doing it, and that’s it. He is a savant in the Naval Air Force, where honor is your lifeblood, who feels he has been dishonored by his own family name, and who willingly joined the conservative post-Vietnam Navy right when/after Ronald Reagan was elected President, and who wears cowboy boots and who disrespects women to their faces, and who is eager to get into altercations with Soviet-Chinese-DPRK-X-second-world-country-coded-but-EXPLICITLY-Soviet-manufactured-Mikoyan-Gurevich-MiG-28s(-F-5s-painted-black)… I’m sorry. In my opinion, the conservatism is baked into him as a character. I find it extremely difficult to separate him from his conservatism, because in some ways his patriotic conservatism is his raison d’etre. IMO if you take that away from him, he ceases to exist.

Same thing with Ice and his unwillingness to openly rebel or go against the grain. That is his whole reason to exist in the story at all. I know that I’m saying this in a fandom space where the whole point is to change characters & put them in different situations (fanfic) but… in kind of a perverse self aware way, as in I know I sound ridiculous and pretentious, i guess i don’t really understand an impulse to change the core tenets of a character irreparably in fanworks. We are shown that ice always goes by the books in TG. Then we are shown that he achieves the fruits of that labor (four stars) in TGM. So he is rewarded for never rebelling, whereas Maverick, who always rebels (but NEVER in a way that challenges his personal identity), has stagnated in the ranks at full-bird O-6. And that’s Ice’s character. That’s what he’s there for in the story—he’s a tool to show us the value system of rank and prestige you earn by following the rules of the Navy. Why take that away from him? That’s his priority! Canonically, that’s his priority and reason for existence! And historically the way to achieve that priority is through conservatism.

And you ask me if it’s hard to like my ice and mav. Yes, but that’s not my choice. The movie already did that for me. They are not, I’m sorry, likable people. I am not a straight white conservative male writing about straight white conservative men to validate my own beliefs—I’m a queer AFAB person of color writing about straight white conservative men because I want to understand the limits of their conservatism. What they do and do not care about, and what it takes to make them care. And from what we are shown in TG… ice and mav would not care about ME. At all. And they would not want to be forced to care about me. Ice’s casual careless dismissiveness… “the plaque for the alternates is down in the ladies’ room…” mav following Charlie into the bathroom… turning the key in the ignition and driving away while pretending not to hear her… “what?? i can’t hear you! 🙉” … they do not care. They have no desire to care.

Again. Maybe I subscribe to a very very old-school and labored and pretentious ideology when it comes to writing… I know a lot of people write just to have fun. I do not. I wish i could, but I don’t. And when you’re not writing to have fun, you don’t have to like the characters you’re writing about. They’re nothing more than tools at your disposal to get your point across more effectively. No, I don’t like them! Of course not! My ice is cruel and cowardly and careless and hypocritical and subservient and weak, and my mav is demanding and dangerous and dismissive and oblivious and so, so, so unbelievably bitter.

And that’s what my story needed, to get my point across. So, shrug. My point was my priority. I don’t care too much about the characters themselves.

Re: icemav & identity politics. Part of hopefully selling this story is the attempt at empathy for the conservative male, to bring this discussion back to the top. Why write fiction at all if you’re not going to write about people different from you, and why write about people different from you if you don’t want to understand them? So… part of trying to understand them was to understand and have empathy for this shift in priorities. Conservative guys do not want to care about labels, or sexual orientations, or, God forbid, discussion of their gender identities. I can kind of see Ice tolerating it by the end… but, there are limits. Again, it’s supposed to be private. I think he’d chafe against getting labeled gay—he wouldn’t want to be called the first gay compacflt, or SECNAV, etc. He can’t say, “i slept with like a hundred fifty women before I even MET the ONLY man ive ever slept with,” because that’s like intensely private personal information!! No one deserves that information, but people still want to call him gay, even though in his head he really is not!!!! Again—from the conservative perspective, it’s a public imposition of left-wing, overly sexualized, too-neat labels and politics onto an area of life that has typically been kept private and respectable—I don’t agree with the conservatism, but I can at least empathize with it. Pre-Maverick’s death (pre-coming to terms with it), it would’ve been shameful & embarrassing to him; but even after coming to terms with it, it’s still not something he “takes pride” in. I think he thinks of it like this—most people aren’t proud of being straight. Like, it’s weird if you are. Same thing with being proud of being white, etc. Why be excessively proud of things you have no control over? Why not take pride in your ACTIONS—for instance, his career that he has actively sacrificed so much of his pride for? I can really empathize with that thought. I don’t necessarily agree, but I get it, especially in his professional circumstances, where he has so much to be professionally proud of, and yet people keep wanting him to publicly care about this private part of him he has no control over and can’t change.

Maverick though. I think he’d be actively hostile about talking about it in public. He Does Not Care. he does not want to care. It’s all an insult. They call him the first openly gay Ace cause he’s married to another man— “okay, but, like, I’m not. Stop calling me that. Neither of us are. Oh my god we have slept with so many women. Stop calling us that.” Ok then what do you want us, the press corps, to call you? First openly bisexual Ace? “No that’s worse!! That’s a word some teenager made up and doesn’t mean anything!! I’m sixty years old stop asking me to talk about this stuff im too old.” What do you have to say to LGBT kids who want to go into the navy? “😎👍 there’s a place for you etc etc. Let’s go back to talking about all the planes I shot down.” Maverick does what he wants without thinking about it. That’s the core tenet of his character. Very conservative. Don’t ask him to care too much.

Idk. No I don’t like them. But I understand them, if that makes sense. Like their conservative anti-label logic does make emotional sense to me. So that’s part of what I took away from this project, for better or worse… probably worse: I understand why conservatives don’t like the modern over-publicity of sexuality. They don’t care and they don’t want to care. And because they are small-C conservative, my ice and mav still don’t care lol. So, yeah. It doesn’t make them hard to write, because thats why I wanted to write them in the first place.

[razzle-zazzle]

i have many asks but first. i am diongisu trash. give me. your dion-raised-as-a-child-actor meeting gisu. she has a crush on him, is he more charming and suave? Does he like her, or is he surrounded by starlets and more arrogant?

"You know that guy's probably secretly a stuck-up jerk, right?" Morris comments, as Gisu slips the poster into her bag.

"Don't care, he's hot." Gisu shrugs. "And I'm only meeting him long enough to get an autograph, it's not gonna change my life or anything." She's attempting to be nonchalant, but if the quirk of Morris' eyebrows are any indication, then the tweenage girl inside her currently squealing and kicking her feet in excitement is as obvious as the sun in the sky.

Well, whatever. Gisu doesn't need Morris' approval. She does kind of need Hollis' approval, but since it's a junior psychonaut mission and thus mostly just surveilance of a spot for the sake of familiarizing themselves with long-term stakeouts, there's plenty of free time to levboard down to the meet and greet and get in line. So she goes, and gets in line, and waits as it slowly moves forwards to her goal.

Dionysus Carlisle's perfectly cordial with fans, winning smile plastered on his face as he signs the poster and writes a snappy little comment for her, putting a star over the i's and turning the o's into a hearts.

Standing so close to him—wow, he's tall—and his pretty face with clear skin and square jaw and piercing blue eyes all framed by dark curls that are so unfairly pretty on him—it makes Gisu feel like she's going to explode. She'd brushed her hair on the way here, her clothes are clean and she knows her acne's barely there right now, but there's still a massive difference between her in a casual outfit and Dionysus dolled up by a whole team of cosmetologists. It's enough to make a girl feel small under the excitement rattling around her ribcage.

Gisu had accidentally used the back of the poster as scrap paper for math homework a couple months back, and as she's carefully rolling up the poster to hold it more safely Dionysus notices and comments,

"Long division, huh? Guess you must be pretty smart."

His thoughts are opaque, unreadable behind his smile. Not that Gisu's in any state to try reading his mind anyway, her breath lodging in her throat and her feet briefly leaving the ground as she stares at Dionysus—

"Next!" And then Gisu's gently moved along by security to make room for the next girl, autograph book clasped in slender, delicate hands perfectly washed and free of scars or scuffs, polished and perfectly round nails painted bubblegum pink. The momentum of the line keeps Gisu moving, heart pounding in her chest and thoughts chasing their own tails as she wanders blindly towards the bus stop.

That was... wow.

Gisu shakes her head. Her feet are firmly planted on the ground—she slips her levboard off her back and gets on, pushing off with little effort. Carefully, she tucks the poster into her bag—it'll fit neatly between her All-Paul and Marie Curie posters once she gets back to her dorm.

That's still three days away, though—she's still got that mission to complete.

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

the heist!mark brainrot is consuming me…, just imagine mark n the viewer meeting for the first time as little kids to shoplift candy or smth together ╥﹏╥

the (brain)rot consumes!! I can relate

my dear anon... LISTEN. I am a big advocate for childhood friends captaineer, it's one of my favourite headcanons, but a childhood friends AU for the heist partners? that's something I hadn't considered until now. and it's adorable. I had to write something for it asap because I was INSPIRED. I hope you enjoy💖 thanks for sparking the idea!

Heist!Mark x reader (not explicitly romantic at all it's more about the friendship in this one) | Words: 1,317

You are in the kitchen of your shared home base, unloading the groceries your heist partner has just bought, when you pick up a bag of sour candies, smiling quietly to yourself. He's always been a fan of them.

Turning the packet in your hands, an old memory drifts to the surface of your mind:

You don't remember exactly how long ago it was, but you couldn't have been much older than maybe ten.

Your father was busy working, and had reluctantly sent you to the store with a small list after you insisted you could handle it on your own.

You slipped the folded piece of paper out of your school bag and scanned the list of items. At the bottom was a note that read, ‘Remember to stay hydrated, kiddo! :)’

You walked around the supermarket collecting the few things on your list and placed them in your trolley. On your way to the checkout, you passed through the candy aisle and slowed to eye the products on display.

‘Aren't you going to get anything?’

Your head perked up, shocked at the sudden voice addressing you.

There was a boy next to you with dark hair, looking at you inquisitively. He seemed to be about your age. He might have even been slightly shorter than you.

You must have been standing here for longer than you realised if it had prompted him to ask you about it.

You shook your head.

‘Why not?’

‘Oh, um. My dad only gave me enough money for what we need,’ you said timidly, showing him the list.

‘Ohh, that's too bad.’ Then, a small yet undeniably mischievous smile appeared on his face. He glanced discreetly up and down the aisle. ‘You know you can just — ’ and he took one of the small packets of candy off the shelf and slipped it swiftly into his pocket.

Your eyes went wide, stunned. Both from the fact that he was suggesting you steal, and at the speed and subtly with which he'd enacted the crime, as if he'd done it dozens of times before, if not more.

‘What are you doing?’ you spoke in a harsh whisper.

‘It's no big deal,’ he said in a lower voice than before, but one that still felt entirely too loud. He slipped another bag into his pocket.

You did not want to associate with this boy any longer.

You pushed your trolley away and towards the checkout, handing your items to the cashier.

You were unhappy to find the boy waiting for you when you exited the store, shopping bag in your hand.

‘What do you want?’ you asked, a little standoffishly, frowning at him.

‘There's no need to be rude,’ he said with a small pout. ‘Y'know, I think I might have seen you at school a few times.’

To your dismay, he followed along as you started walking home. When you pressed him, he simply said, ‘Hey, I'm not following you! I live down this way too, I promise!’

As the two of you walked, he chatted annoyingly by your side. What was more annoying was that you found you didn't mind his presence. You were a quiet kid and you didn't have many friends. Having someone to walk home with you was kind of a nice change of pace.

Just as you thought this, though, you immediately chided yourself mentally. You and him were not friends. You weren't going to be friends. This boy was a criminal and he wasn't even sorry about it.

You frowned in thought.

Oh no, what if he got caught? What if you went to juvenile jail for being an accomplice to theft? What would Dad say? What would Mom say? What if—’

‘Hey, are you listening to me? You haven't responded to anything I'm saying.’

You simply sighed as he pulled you out of your thoughts.

‘Are you still mad about the candy? I told you it's not a big deal.’

You stopped as you realised you were approaching your front door. The journey seemed to have gone a little faster than usual.

‘Really?’ you finally replied in an exasperated tone. ‘That was no big deal for you? That was stealing. Stealing is wrong.’ You couldn't believe you had to spell it out to him.

‘They won't notice a couple tiny bags of candy are gone. My mom says big companies that own supermarkets are greedy. They make loads of money anyway and don't pay enough taxes.’

‘Does your mom know you're a thief?’

‘W- well, no, but-’

‘That’s what I thought.’

He looked a little disheartened.

‘Please don't tell anyone. I'm sorry if I upset you,’ he said quietly, looking down.

You hadn't really expected an apology from someone like him. You sighed again.

‘I won't tell, but don't expect me to just go along with it. And don't act like we're best buds all of a sudden. We don't know each other. You don't even know my name!’

‘Well, what's your name?’

You gave him a slightly surprised look before telling him your name, albeit hesitantly.

‘Look, I have to get going now…’

You fumbled with the shopping bag as you reached into your coat pocket, feeling for the house key, when you suddenly felt something that wasn't there before. It made a crinkling sound beneath your touch.

‘You didn't.’ You pulled the candy out of your pocket. ‘When did you—?’

The boy grinned at you.

‘I thought you could have one of mine.’

‘I don't want your stolen candy!’

‘Judging by how you looked at it earlier, I think you do. And besides, stolen treats taste better!’ he called out, already walking away.

‘Wh- SHH!’ You hoped none of your neighbours had heard.

‘I'm Mark by the way! See ya, buddy!’

You stood outside the front door, dumbfounded.

Finally you let yourself in. Your dad wouldn't be home yet for a while.

You put the shopping away and sat down at your kitchen table, staring at the stolen goods in front of you.

You could try to put it back but… that would be more suspicious.

You figured, the deed had been done. There was nothing you could do now, so you may as well make the most of it.

You tore the edge of the packet and popped one of the candies in your mouth, savouring the sweet and sour combination on your tongue.

Maybe Mark was right. It did taste extra good. But maybe it was just because you'd been craving it.

What a weird kid.

‘Stealing is wrong, huh…?’ you mumble under your breath. You look down at the candy in your hands. It's not the same brand as the one from back then, but you imagine it tastes more or less the same, from what you remember.

Present day Mark is the one to pull you out of your musings.

‘Hey, what's with that face you're making? I know that look, buddy. Are you contemplating your life choices??’

You chuckle softly.

‘Just… got reminded of something. I suppose I got lost in nostalgia for a moment.’

‘Oh yeah? Penny for your thoughts?’

You turn and smile at him.

‘This just made me think of an annoying little boy stealing candy from a supermarket. And his reluctant acquaintance who ended up getting dragged into his antics for the foreseeable future.’

It takes a second for it to click.

‘Ohhhhh.’ You watch as realisation turns to him smiling fondly at the memories, which turns to him snapping his attention to you with a fake-offended look.

You laugh at his expression.

‘Wait, hey! Annoying?!’

‘Mhm.’

‘Excuse you, I was a wonderful, sweet and positively charming child.’

Your laughter rings out in the kitchen, full of mirth, and he shakes his head at you with a familiar lopsided grin, and you are so grateful for the cheeky little boy who approached you that day.

[moe-broey]

I have. So much power. Esp w the ability to use any portrait I want for any class. Which maybe was always the case? But the funniest example here is Bruno. The Medic. That armor in his portrait? Just for show. He's only allowed to wear extremely tearable fabric. As the gods intended. It's part of his curse, you see,

Also Moe voice "Yo who the fuck invited your undead dad to the function??????"

[ghostchanuwu]

Theres nothing more self indulgent than writting a fanfic for your AU except for making artwork for it months later

[mediterraneanmenace]

The Paladin's eyes lit up with that almost fanatical glow typical of whenever she was incensed about something. Upon hearing "Cania" Raphael almost choked on the wine he was drinking.

Raphael and his [very delulu] situationship partner Raksha. Quick sketch for the first part of my BG3 prequel.

I rewrote some of my lore so that they actually knew each other since a while - they met at her Lord's court. She's a vicious Paladin who outright enjoys slaying Hellspawns - but doesn't know he's a Cambion.

Things go south when her Lord charges Raksha and her platoon to take on Mephistopheles' domain, Cania.

And yes, she's RHYMING because she too is a dramatic theatre kid.

[sebnameyourcar]

i’m at work rn but having deep deep thoughts about sebastian vettel’s self esteem

[twistedappletree]

Ajdhajjsjabdjabsajbd

[freakalot]

letting gojo fuck you raw might have been a mistake, especially now that he wants kids..☆

(part 1 here)

yes—it felt good. heavenly, even. feeling him fill you up without a contraceptive barrier between you might overlap an ego death on the life-altering-experiences venn diagram.

but now your boyfriend throws a tantrum whenever you tell him to wrap it. he pouts and whines and stamps his fucking feet like a child at your child-preventative measures. he’s too tall to act like a toddler—if you didn’t secretly enjoy the pining you’d hit him upside the back of his head and tell him to stop sulking.

“we’re too young to be parents,” you’d tell him as he rubs his uncovered cock through your folds, from your entrance up to your sensitive clit and back down.

his counter? “the earlier we start, the longer we have to try for more.”

“maybe youre forgetting the whole ‘jujutsu sorcerer, could-die-at-any-moment' thing?”

“are you forgetting that i’m the strongest? plus, i think i’d look hot saving the world wearing a baby carrier… not that i would endanger our kid like that. bad point, ask me a new one.”

“we aren’t playing trivia.”

“cmon,” a tap of the head of his cock to your clit. “humour me.”

“alright, children are fucking expensive.”

“babe, you’re not serious—you do know i’m filthy rich, right? capitalism fears me. i’m like that rich disney duck with the top hat and—”

you point a finger in his face. “put a goddamn condom on or you’re banned from sex for a month, scrooge.”

and he blinks, pretends to be offended at how responsible you are, and then falls into an easy smile because sex with you is more than enough for him. when he sinks into you, condom-covered or not, he falls a little bit more in love each time.

but it is not the same and you know it.

the weight of him on top of you is the same. as is the snapping thrusts of his hips into yours and the gentle circles he traces over your clit and the way he moans your name once he’s sheathed fully inside of you. it’s the same.

but it’s not the same as taking him raw. it’s not the bulge of his veins against your velvet walls. nor is it the beading precum at his tip dripping inside of you, or the filthy fucking drawling moans he lets out when he fills you to the brim.

“you’re so beautiful,” he's moaning like he's in heat. completely enthralled with every aspect of your being, satoru groans and moans and snaps forward into you like he's trying to breed you regardless.

and you're so full, stretched to your limits with his cock pulsing inside of you, but you don't feel satiated like you could. you've tasted it once, the feel of his cum spilling into you, the knowledge of what it could do to you. to him. he would look good as a dad. god, him holding a baby in his arms...

"pull out."

gojo stops immediately at your words, blinking the lust from his eyes in an immediate shock change of expression. he's looking you over, making sure you're not in any pain, before pulling out of you completely with no questions asked. he's always been good like that—sure, he'll whine about wearing latex but he'd never push you past your spoken limits.

"you wanna stop?" he asks gently, already reaching for a washcloth to wipe you down with. his eyes watch you carefully, obsessed with your interest and comfort: you have to stop yourself from laughing at his panic. "we can watch some TV or go to bed or i could make you—"

his words die in his mouth when you reach down to his still-hard cock and slowly pull the condom that covers it from the top. it slides from his length with a little resistance before finally pulling over the head and snapping back at your hand with a subtle sting.

"fuck me," you meet his eyes.

"what? you said—"

"satoru. fuck me. breed me, even. how many other ways do i have to put it? i want you to fuck a baby into me."

he blinks again. no witty comment, no awful smirk or joke about being a dilf. you've gone and rendered satoru speechless. when he does finally move his lips, it's not to dirty talk you like expected.

"we aren't married."

you can't help but laugh. "what?"

"i'm going to marry you first, and then you are going to make me a dad. i have it all planned out, babe, we can't have drunk honeymoon sex if you're pregnant. though you would look fucking beautiful on a beach somewhere with a baby bump. god now i'm conflicted."

"you have it planned?"

the thought of satoru planning this out hits you, him thinking about a future with you, a ring on your finger, embracing the stress of parenthood together so well that when the kids move out and you're old and grey, you abhor having a silent home.

"so are you going to propose or not?" you look at him.

again, he blinks. "right now?"

"why not? do you have a ring?"

satoru looks at you, smiles, and slips off the bed—still naked—to reach into the bedside drawer. a small black box sits in his top drawer, ironically under a pile of condoms. he holds it in his hand and returns to you with a kiss to your knee, and then one to your inner thigh, and another just above your clit. he works his way up your stomach, of course stopping to bite at your nipples when he reaches your chest, and then presses himself fully against you once his lips find yours.

when he pulls away, you're met with the sight of a ring you had pointed out to him months ago. had he really been planning this long? "i knew i was going to marry you on our first date," he says, but then counters, "actually, that's a lie. it was when i tasted that sweet pussy of yours for the first time, but that's not as romantic."

you smile, bracing yourself for a long-winded speech when satoru suddenly pushes the tip of his now-uncovered cock inside of you. you gasp, and he swallows it with a kiss before taking your hand in his and slipping the ring down your finger with a breathy; "will you marry me?"

"yes," of course, is your answer. which warrants a sudden deep thrust from your now-fiancé as he bottoms out inside of you.

"yeah?" he nips at your neck. "you'll marry me? gonna make me a dad too, huh? gonna fill you up, baby, gonna breed you out and—"

"i thought you said—"

"changed my mind. now, lift your legs up: you're not leaving this bed until i've knocked you up, pretty."

[icharchivist]

A self-portrait? That's so funny

you have to understand he IS pretty funny. That's a huge thing about him.

That's my blorbo <333