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#i think it’s just because he’s so weird
gothgoblinbabe · 2 days
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Belt Buckle
Logan Howelett x afab reader
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A/N: okay, so this. Uh. Hear me out - I can’t be the only one who’s thought about this. It’s exactly what you think it is. Also it’s not very long just cause I’m still working on requests but it’s been collecting dust in google docs
Warnings: NSFW 18+, she/her pronouns
Word count: 4K
divider credit
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You couldn’t quite place where the fascination began.
Maybe it was because it sat right above the bulge in his jeans or because you were always yanking the stupid thing out of the way to get his pants down his thighs, but your eyes were always on the buckle of Logan’s belt lately. He had a couple different ones - all obnoxiously big - and of course you teased him, calling him a cowboy or a show off.
Lately, though, you’d been struggling to keep your mouth shut. Every time he’d stand in front of you now, you couldn’t tear your eyes from whatever chunky adornment was attached to the front of his belt.
“What are you lookin’ at, sweetheart?”
Your eyes flickered back up to his and you shrugged.
“Nothin’.”
He titled his head, “really?”
“Mhm.”
“Why’re you starin’ like that, then?”
Shit.
You swallowed hard, avoiding his gaze. You’d been together plenty of times, admitted almost everything to each other, but you still found yourself too embarrassed to admit what it was that had you staring so much.
You finally had to tell Logan while sitting on his lap in bed, his hands kneading your hips to pull you back and forth over his hard cock beneath his jeans. With his eyes closed, lost in the feeling of your tongue in his mouth, he dragged your hips forward a little farther than intended, inadvertently dragging your thinly clad pussy right over his belt buckle. Usually he’d pick up on the little things like that - how loud you whined when he pulled you forward - but you tried not to make the noise again, embarrassed.
He did, anyway.
He pulled your lips from his with his hold on your face, his thumb and fingers gripping your cheeks to the point that your lips were squished into a pout.
“You got somethin’ you wanna tell me, pretty girl?”
You knew you could tell him anything, but this felt far too humiliating - as if you were positive he’d scoff at the idea and tell you that you were gross for even thinking it.
You tried to shake your head, but he knew you far too well.
He grabbed you by your hips and lifted you off his lap.
“Spit it out, princess.”
You sharply inhaled, eyes dropping to his belt.
“I…um, I was thinking…” you tried to say something, anything to even hint at what you wanted, but it seemed stuck in your throat.
Logan clicked his tongue, “Baby. If you want somethin’ you gotta say it.”
You hated that he was right. You had to just get it out, say it all at once like ripping off a bandaid. 
“I wanna ride your belt buckle. It’s big, I think it’d feel good.”
Your words hung in the air, met with deafening silence. 
You watched his parted lips curl up into a smug grin, his eyebrows raised in mild disbelief.
“Jesus, that’s filthy. You really think about that?”
Your face burned. You opened your lips to speak but nothing came out. He was definitely going to call you weird, tell you that’s gross and get up from the bed.
Instead, he wordlessly leaned forward and hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties to pull them down your legs. He threw them to the floor and leaned back with his hands behind his head, leaving you sitting in front of him in only one of his t-shirts with nothing underneath. You looked at him curiously, eyes flickering between his face and his lap.
“C’mon, you want it or what?”
You hastily climbed back onto his lap, positioning yourself so that his erection was behind you and your bare pussy was against the cold metal of his belt buckle. You weren’t sure exactly what to do at first. He usually held your hips when you were in his lap, helping you grind down onto him. Now, though, they were locked behind his head as his eyes bore into yours.
“You asked for it so you gotta do the work, baby.”
You huffed, placing your hands on his chest so you could lean forward and roll your hips. You slid your swollen pussy across the ridges of the cool metal of the buckle, your slick already coating the front of it and the top of his jeans.
You looked up to see Logan’s stare glued to his lap, watching hungrily with his bottom lip caught between his teeth as you rocked yourself back and forth.
“Feels good?” He asked, already breathing heavily from the way your ass grazed the tip of his cock when you dragged your hips back.
You nodded, nearly slack jawed with your eyes closed.
“Use your words,” he demanded, eyebrows furrowing.
You groaned in annoyance at the familiar phrase, one he loved to use when you were too turned on to speak.
“Yeah, feels good - fuck,” you cursed when he lifted his hips a little, pushing against you as you continued to grind yourself down. 
“So you guessed right, then, huh?” 
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A/N: short and sweet but ya idk I couldn't get it out of my head <3
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chiscaralight · 2 days
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nsfw kinich x fem reader. i love him, i miss him, choking, repaying favors iykyk
i’m so sorry but you know the part at the end of the last scions of the copy tribal quest where kinich says:
'promise me, if you need anything in the future you’ll come to me.’
so on a particularly tough night where your fingers aren’t doing enough, and humping your folded pillows insnt helping, you find yourself stumbling towards his home in the dead of the night. he swings the door open when he realizes it’s you, questioning why you’re here at such a weird hour.
“you said if i need anything i could come to you..”
“yeah, i did. what do you need?”
kinich is very precise with his work. it's something he's well known for, but you weren't too familiar with. but now, with his fingers expertly plunging in and out of your cunt as you struggle to keep your legs up, you understand what everyone means now. his face is inches from yours, breath fanning over your face as he studies your pleasured expression. your back is arching off the smooth wood of the door that he had you pressed against mere moments ago after you smashed your lips against his in the doorway.
his tongue is hot against your neck. you're desperately gripping at the wrist that's assaulting your sopping hole, weakly attempting to push it away from the sheer pleasure that's blooming throughout your lower half. you're whining, cries of his name dripping out of your lips as your thighs start to clamp down around your hand. and he's trying to ignore the throbbing in his pants because you came to him for help this time. you'd done a great deal for him, and it would be unfair to take something from you again so soon. but those eyes of yours, they're pleading, begging for him to just fill you up, as much as that perfect body of yours could take.
and he was right to trust his instincts because your cunt is sucking him in so well. his fingers are tight against your throat, pressing down as his free hand moves to wrap around your waist. he has perfect leverage like this, pulling your back against his chest as he fucks into you sharp and hard. your hands are gripping at nothing, the feeling of his cock combined with the lack of oxygen reaching your brain sending you into a sweet spiral. you can't even feel the words leave your mouth, soft whines and pleas surging into his ears as you mindlessly beg.
"i-inside, kinich. please, please-"
it's the least he could do, after everything you've done for him. he's also trying to convince himself that he's doing this for you, not because he's been thinking about pumping you full of his cum. sure, he'd finish his commissions early so he could drag mualani to come and hang out with the two of you, or purposefully rile up ajaw so he'd have a reason to put him in time out, giving him enough privacy to pump his length to the thought of you. but no, this was entirely about what he was willing to give back to you. so he'd free up your neck, letting your body softly drop to the bed, before securing your hips with both of his hands before ruining you. you're fisting the sheets, squealing hard as the sound of his skin slapping against yours fills the room, his thrusts are messy and uncalculated, warmth painting your walls as his orgasm waves through the two of you. he's still smacking into you with such fervor, that you can't hold back your own climax, releasing around his still-hard length with a yell.
and he's obsessed with the white ring that's starting to form around the base of his cock from your orgasm. your pretty hole is still fluttering around him as he continues to move. he stills for just a second, then mutters an apology. he knows he's supposed to be assisting you here, but he just can’t help himself. he's going to have to take one more orgasm from you tonight, but he’ll make sure to give you one right back.
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luveline · 2 days
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hey love! first of all: i have to admit i started watching criminal minds for the first time earlier this year only bc of your spencer fics! can we get more stripper!reader and spencer? love your writing!!!
thank you!! It’s a slow routine. You begin in a crouch in your underwear, just like at the club. Chest to your knees, arms twisted with the backs of your hands touching. But, unlike at the club, this underwear is comfortable. There’s nobody watching, and you won’t make any tips. You don’t have a pole nor a stage. 
You run through the routine but forgo any pole tricks. You stretch for long, slow minutes, dancing from one space to another. The music in your head isn’t anything you’d play at home, but it works to keep time. You end on your knees again. 
It’s not fun. 
You stretch toward your phone and pick it up. Spencer’s texted you twice in the ten minutes you weren’t on it. 
Hi gorgeous, the first begins, do you want to sleep over? I can make you dinner. 
The second, Sorry, I don’t think I’ve ever called you gorgeous before, is that weird? Please come over and pretend I didn’t say that if it was weird
A third pops up while you’re reading. Can I come get you? 
You text him back with pleasure. He’s the only guy in your life who talks to you just to talk, without thinking he could fuck you if he says enough right things, even though he has fucked you. Hi babe you can call me anything it’s not weird, I’ll come over! Not working this week, maybe I can stay two days(?) let me know so I can pack enough clothes 
You can stay all week, if you want to. I miss you 
You imagine him holding his phone, his cheeks pink with blush. 
I miss you too, you text back. 
Just bring what you want to and we can work it out later
Working it out later could mean anything with Spencer. He’s silly enough to try and put you in his clothes, and generous enough to take you shopping if it saves the time it takes to drive you home. 
You’ve packed a bag of clothes and shower things when your phone rings. Spencer’s contact photo covers the whole screen, the two of you together with your face cut out, his smile wide. You were both a teeny bit tipsy. 
“Hello?” you answer, bringing the phone to your ear. 
“Hi!” He sounds nervous. “I’m outside. Am I gonna get towed?” 
“Not if you stay in the car. I’m on my way down right now.” 
“Okay, see you in a second,” he says. 
He never looks comfortable behind a steering wheel. You aren’t sure why he doesn’t sell his car, maybe because it’s dirt cheap to maintain. He never seems happy to be driving is all. 
He smiles when you approach his door, which is better. He rolls down the window. 
“Are you okay?” he asks. You bend at the knees to see him better. 
“Why wouldn’t I be?” 
“I had a weird feeling about you, like you weren’t alright.” 
You lean down further. “I’m okay.” 
He grins. You’re waiting for a kiss he doesn’t give, finding yourself a subject for his staring, completely still as his gaze follows around your face. He makes no move to kiss you, and for a moment insecurity blossoms. 
“Well, you look okay. Are you getting in? It’s cold,” he says, nodding toward the passenger side.
“No help with my bags?” you ask, closing the door when he tries to open it. “Kidding.” 
You round the hood and climb inside. Then Spencer kisses you, polite but emphatic, one on your lips and another just under your jaw as he squeezes your shoulder. You feed into them lovingly.
“Maybe you can stay at my place forever? That way I can stop missing you all the time,” he says, pulling away slowly. 
“And when the mystery is gone?” you ask. 
“I don’t want mystery with you.” 
Spencer takes your bag from your lap and shoves it into the back seat. You drop the smaller one on your shoes. 
“Do you wanna get pizza or something?” he asks. 
You hold your jaw where he’d kissed you. “Sure,” you say, tingles of his kiss lingering under your hand. 
“Or Chinese? What do you want?” 
You want more kisses, but you love that he always gives you options. “Pizza for sure. Curly fries, too. Hold my hand?” 
Spencer takes it with gusto over the gearstick, and whatever felt like it was missing earlier fills itself in. “Wait,” you say softly, before he can take the car out of park, “just…” You grab his side and drag him toward you for a hug. Holding hands wasn’t gonna be enough —Spencer doesn’t know it yet, but you love him, love how safe he makes you feel, love how fun he makes your life. You can be yourself with him, no matter who that really is.
Spencer holds you, his hand across your shoulder blade rubbing soft lines. 
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maxverstappendefender · 22 hours
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ain't no love in oklahoma // op81 smau
description: twisters actress!reader x op81 but lando is convinced oscar is lying (from request)
a/n: sorry for being completely inactive. life happened and it didn't happen in a good way! i have a huge exam coming up soon so i will most likely still be inactive besides maybe a few short things here and there. anyways first oscar fic so enjoy! all pics found on pinterest, i don't own any
a/n pt2: might do something fun for each day in october but im not sure what so send me some ideas. also might do some more headcannons/blurbs soon here!
requests: closed but feel free to send me some messages since i love talking to you guys
masterlist
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liked by oscarpiastri, glenpowell, and 2,927,641 others
youruser: go see twisters!! if you don’t, you suck and you better hope you don’t get stuck in a tornado because there’s useful information in our movie
tagged: glenpowell
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oscarpiastri: proud of you!!
↳ youruser: 🧡
glenpowell: caption is so real of you
user1: doesn’t yn have a boyfriend? why is she so close to glen?
↳ user2: yes but probably because there’s limited space. yn isn’t like that
↳ oscarpiastri: exactly what user2 said
landonorris: cute!
↳ user3: what are you doing here??
↳ user4: lando in the comments?
user5: such a good movie
user6: yn + glen = power duo
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liked by youruser, landonorris, and 3,951,750 others
oscarpiastri: proud boyfriend award goes to me 🏆 thx for all the bts selfies
tagged: youruser, glenpowell
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landonorris: i just laughed out loud
landonorris: “boyfriend” lmaooo
↳ user7: i cant tell if he’s joking or serious
user8: cutest couple ever
glenpowell: aww so glad you remembered the time you took me to the aquarium, what a romantic!
↳ youruser: get your own boyfriend capybara
↳ user9: yn CLOCKED him
// lando’s phone//
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//
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liked by mclaren, oscarpiastri, and 4,027,835 others
landonorris: POLE BABYYYY!!! everyone ignore my teammates instagram posts, i have told him to stop. i think he took a hit to the head or something
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oscarpiastri: do you want to go to the farm or not?
↳ landonorris: you already said i could go so no take backs
↳ user10: lando is going to yn's farm??
↳ user11: LANDO'S MEETING YN?!
↳ user12: oh i know he's going to fangirl so hard
user13: get me someone who looks at me the way oscar looks at lando
↳ user14: are we sure that they aren't the ones dating?
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 3,017,426 others
youruser: back home finally! pic 1: yeehaw. pic 2: my cat cora had her babies!!! pic 3: dinner date :)
tagged: oscarpiastri
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user15: CORA HAD HER KITTIES
↳ youruser: i am officially a grandma. i feel the gray hairs coming in now
user16: oscar and yn are endgame
oscarpiastri: the best company
↳ landonorris: STOP, idk how you got her in on this joke either
↳ user16: i can't tell if lando knows they are actually dating and is joking or if he truly does not believe oscar
user17: boyfriend is back on the feed!
↳ user18: farmer yn is back on the feed!
glenpowell: miss you lady
↳ youruser: you miss my animals more
↳ glenpowell: and what about it.
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liked by youruser, oscarpiastri, and 4,209,384 others
landonorris: OMG HE WASN'T LYING i got to feed so many animals, got to channel my inner cowboy, AND get drunk with the yn? i can die a happy man
tagged: youruser
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oscarpiastri: believe me now?
↳ landonorris: never doubted you
↳ user19: lando seriously didn't believe oscar lol
↳ user20: i fully thought he was joking the entire time
user21: how hard did you fangirl to meet yn, lando?
↳ landonorris: surprised i didn't pass out honestly. i facetimed GLEN POWELL
youruser: so glad you had a fun time!!
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liked by youruser, landonorris, and 3,298,361 others
oscarpiastri: everyone clear that this is my girlfriend?
tagged: youruser
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user22: sassy oscar
↳ user23: channeling his inner lando
landonorris: yes sir 🫡
↳ oscarpiastri: stop being weird ?
youruser: MY MANNNNN
↳ user24: oh she's in deep
user25: there is one thing oscar doesn't play about in life: yn
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 4,208,763 others
youruser: didn't even know there was confusion that this was my boyfriend lol
tagged: oscarpiastri
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landonorris: how was i meant to know?!
↳ user26: literally how everyone else knew, instagram.
glenpowell: yn stop posting pics of me and my boyfriend and acting like he's yours
↳ youruser: i dont like this joke.
↳ oscarpiastri: bromance or whatever
↳ user27: they're in a throuple
↳ youruser: ew
↳ glenpowell: disgusting
↳ oscarpiastri: huhhh
user28: couple goals forever and ever
user29: if they don't get married... love isn't real
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cosmonauter · 2 days
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ahh, i hope you like it @liv-does-stuff !!
bestfriend james who has no boundaries with you!!
james potter thinks you are the best friend he's ever had. normally people tell him that he's too clingy, and they don't like him hanging around them all the time. and it's not a problem for him, but he just wants someone to let him hug and touch without being awkward about it.
so when you two met, he felt like the luckiest person on earth because you don't think it's weird when he hugs you from behind and kisses the top of your head.
you don't judge him for demanding cuddles and sleepovers at least two times a week. you even encourage him to be touchier!
his favourite thing to do with you is bathing together. since he's a headboy, he has unlimited access to the prefect's bathroom, which means that the two of you bathe together as often as possible.
he's especially excited to meet you today because he was informed about a new couple in school, and he really wants to gossip about it with you!
so while he is cleaning his bed of sirius' socks and peter's sweets, because you're sleeping over today, sirius decides to ask him a question, "are you meeting up with them again? don't you think it's a little weird that you guys bath at the same time in the same room, even though you're 'just friends'?"
"why would it be weird? they wash my back and i condition their hair for them. it's logical and they don't mind it aswell. it's actually really nice, and besides, don't act as if remus and you don't shower together!"
remus sighs, "james, sirius and i are in a relationship with eachother. aside from that, i totally agree with pads, it is weird that you take baths together. what's even weirder is you touching while being in said bath!"
"you guys just don't have the connection that my dove and i have. it's okay though, don't be sad about it! maybe one day you'll reach the same trust we have in each other.", james throws a towel over one shoulder and picks out a shirt for you to wear, and matching pants, so everyone you come across in the halls knows about your superior friendship (and that you're his, but he wouldn't admit that to anyone, not even under torture).
"i'm going to the bath, padfoot don't eat anything on my bed, my dove complained about the crumbs last time, and i promised them to change that! they're sleeping with me today. bye bye!"
he closes the door before any of them can say anything and runs to the bathroom as fast as he can.
-
as soon as he arrives in the prefect bathroom, he already sees you taking off your clothes.
while you are struggling with unzipping your pants, he comes up behind you and grabs your waist, pulling you into an embrace. your naked back against his broad chest sends electric shocks down his body and he shivers against you and presses your body closer to his.
"jamie, can you help me with my zipper? it isn't moving any further and i can't get out of my pants like that."
james would do anything for you, if you never stopped looking at him with those puppy-eyes, "of course, sweetheart. stay still."
he moves his hand away for a moment to turn your body facing his. while his one hand moves towards your zipper, the other one steadying your body by holding your hip, he grins at you and you smile back up at him.
he tugs a few times, but the pants don't budge. you notice his forehead getting sweatier, so you suggest to "take off your shirt jamie, it's to hot in here for you to be wearing it!" while tugging it up his back a little.
he pulls it off and throws it to the side, giving you a grin, "if you wanted me naked, darling, you just had to ask."
you scrunch your brows together, "if i wanted you naked, you would already be.". he snorts, and keeps tugging at your jeans.
suddenly an idea blossoms in his head. what if your zipper got stuck on something from the inside of your pants. so, of course, he sticks his hand down your pants to find a little string, connected to your underwear, being held hostage by said zipper.
"darling, you just have to pull your trousers down together with your panties. see, just like that..", he slowly eases your trousers over your butt, enjoying the feeling of your body under his hands.
you shiver against him and moan out," thank you, jamie. i should've thought about that." you blush and hide your head in his chest.
"don't worry about it, my love. i'm happy to help you as much as you need.", he smiles down at you, while you start tugging down his zipper to take of his trousers.
as soon as they fall to the floor, james picks you up by your waist and throws you into the water.
" james, you idiot!!", you scream at him while trying to splash him with the water. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry angel! i'll jump in okay? will that make you happy?"
-
"they are definitely fucking, i'm telling you!"
"sirius, calm down! what if they hear you, huh?"
"oh come on remus, they wear matching pajamas and use silencing charms every single time they have a 'sleepover', they won't hear a thing, trust me!"
"you're right, love, but still."
"wormy, what do you think?"
"i think they're both idiots, who really don't get why it's so weird."
please tell me if i need to change something, or if you have some tips on getting better. i hope you enjoyed it :))
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pomefioredove · 2 days
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hii! i love your writing a lot! and its my first time requesting something so im sorry if it sounds weird.
could i request a reader who loves to give their friend or partner lots gifts(preferably handmade ones!!) and affection? like they just make gifts for them and randomly shower them with affection without any reason
please do it with the overblot gang or simply just riddle, azul and vil !!
also im sorry if you already did something like that ; ;
hi anon!! thank you for waiting so patiently for this <3
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ gifting!
type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, azul, vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu
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pleasant surprise is not something that Riddle feels often, and gifts, especially such thoughtful ones, are not something he's used to. his mother never bought him anything that wasn't a necessity, and aside from what little Trey and Che'nya could sneak to him when they were children, Riddle just... doesn't get gifts
especially without a reason. the first time you leave a love note and roses at his desk, he's worried that he somehow forgot something- a birthday, a holiday, an anniversary?
you have to reassure him that you don't need a reason to be nice to him, and he deserves to be spoiled
which is... weird... for him to hear
still, he treasures every single thing you get him. trinkets go on a well-kept shelf in his room, practical gifts get used until they're falling apart, and he even presses the flowers you give so he can keep them forever
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Azul lives in a give-and-take world. which is often... bad, but can be extraordinarily sweet when he applies that to your relationship
he wakes up to flowers on his doorstep? you'll be getting a bouquet the very next day. you write him a lovely note? he'll send one of his own right back. you make him something thoughtful, personal, and sweet? he will literally teach himself how to sew, paint, write, et cetera, and get you something you'll love by next week
(your crafting skills are incredible to him, by the way)
it's not even that he doesn't want to "owe you" anything; it's that he wants you to feel just as loved and special as you make him feel
he's never a neglectful boyfriend, I can tell you that much
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
there's something that can be so special about handmade gifts. Vil thinks of this often; he finds himself absolutely in love with everything you give him. he almost feels guilty wearing the jewelry or clothing you make, as if it should be put on display rather than worn
it's just so... you know?
you thought of him while you made this. you sat down, thought, "what would Vil like?" and made something. not because he hired you to, or because you want fame or money or success, but because you love him
as a person. not as an actor, or a model, or an image
oof. it's like an arrow straight through his heart. he loves to carry around the things you gift him, just so someone will notice and ask
he always gets the biggest smile telling them that his partner made it
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In response to the Mile High Job post, I hate that Parker implies that poor flight attendant slept her way to a promotion/better shift. Her day is super weird but her cat is fine and her life is saved. That rumor, however, might stick and that didn't really feel like Leverage to me.
Agreed!
The thing with Leverage is that it's a show from the late 2000s; it feels contemporary, but actually it is a bit dated. And, like all shows, it had some problematic elements, which get a bit more Obviously Problematic as time goes by (I am just waiting for someone to write a lengthy call-out post in 5 years' time and for the Discourse to start.) For example, Tumblr loves to declare that Leverage has a "canon" throuple, but if anyone read that and then watched the show they would be profoundly disappointed - while it's a fantastic ship with a great many shippy instances, Elliot has a lot of onscreen No Homo moments, and frequently is shown sleeping with random women (I personally read him as aromantic). Similarly, there are two big relationships in that show: Nate/Sophie, and Parker/Hardison. And we all wax lyrical about the brilliance of Parker/Hardison and how healthy it is, and for good reason; but we gloss over how unbearably "I hate my wife/father I cannot click the book" Boomer humour Nate/Sophie is.
(He literally calls her a shrew in one episode. She throws a tantrum and sulks if he doesn't remember the exact details of how/where they met. She's stereotypically 'romantic' and he's stereotypically 'cynical' and she has to Save Him From Himself, and he self-deprecatingly says he should just know when to stop arguing because she's always right. Like... it is a grubby and uncomfortable dynamic; but, it's also aimed at a different segment of the audience that is older than me, and that's okay, actually. It just means I don't much care for the ship myself.)
Anyway, this is one other such instance. Clearly someone in the writers' room thought that was a funny joke, and not enough people disagreed, and so in it went. What's nice is that Sandi McCree, who plays the other flight attendant that stays on the plane, actually kind of saves that joke for me with her performance. When Parker first boards and declares that her co-worker is not coming in, McCree looks disgruntled at the sudden change to her staff list when she wasn't informed; she's annoyed at management. Then Parker makes the sleeping-with-pilots comment, and McCree looks disgusted and furious -
An expression she then pulls at Parker every time she sees her for the rest of the episode, even when Parker is technically not doing anything particularly weird. It's not necessarily intentional on McCree's part (Parker IS very weird in this episode, so it very much can be a response to that), but to me it means you can read it as "This woman is absolutely furious at the lateral sexism of this white girl because We Love And Support Each Other On This Plane." So, for me, between that and the aforementioned revelations of the day (the plane was brought down by the domestic terrorists of a Fortune 500 company, but saved by... a few unexplained Official People who snuck aboard??? And the other flight attendant was made to miss the plane after all under mysterious circumstances and was not promoted??? What???), I don't think Sandi McCree's character wouldn't put those pieces together.
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eclipseslayer · 2 days
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PRETTY PINK PANTIES
• TOJI FUSHIGURO X F!READER SMUT ONESHOT
• SUMMARY: Toji catches a glimpse of your panties one morning and then gets drunk to take his mind off of it. However, his drunk mind seems to have other plans when he finds himself suddenly in your bedroom.
• CW: DARK CONTENT! Icky!dad!Toji, panty-sniffing, masturbation, incest.
• WC: 1kish
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Another night, another drink.
Toji groans as he downs his fourth beer, feeling the weight of the liquid sit in his stomach, making for a rather unpleasant feeling. He scratches his stomach while he feels his head go into a woozy state from all of the alcohol he's consumed.
He grunts.
He wouldn't have to feel this shitty if he didn't drink to get over what he saw earlier today.
The memory keeps playing back in his mind like a broken record, and it makes Toji want to smack his skull against the wall, because he knows he shouldn't think about it, but, fuck, for some reason, he can't help it.
You were leaving early this morning to go to class. Toji was making himself some coffee, when suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he sees you bend over to tie a loose lace on your sneaker, revealing your tight, pink panties beneath your skirt.
Toji quickly whipped his head away the second he laid his eyes on your underwear, not wanting to stare at them a second longer because he knew it was wrong.
But... fuck. Despite it all, he couldn't get those pretty pink panties that hugged your ass so well out of his head.
You're his kid. He can't be thinking like this.
Sure, he's always been kinda a deadbeat due to your mom missing in his life, but he couldn't do this to you.
He gets up from the couch, and, drunkenly, nearly stumbles over the coffee table.
No, he can't. He won't.
His head, clouded with the alcohol, makes the decision for him despite his nagging thoughts, as his mind takes control of his feet and moves them towards your room.
She's my fucking kid... can't do this—
Toji stumbles over his feet again but he catches himself on your doorframe.
Fuck.
He huffs; a heavy breath escapes him while he holds himself on the doorframe, and his eyes scan your room, looking for something that'll remove this weird attraction towards you—anything, especially something that'll gross him out or see you in a new bad light—
Ah, shit.
His eyes widen suddenly when he sees them: pretty pink panties, sitting on the floor of your room, discarded without a thought to the mind.
Toji's heart races in his chest, his throat constricting as if all the air has vanished. He can only manage a shaky exhale, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of fear that seeps into his mind.
What the hell am I doing? Toji wonders to himself, and yet, his feet take him forward again.
Slowly, one foot in front of the other, his feet drag him along, and Toji wants to grasp onto something, anything, maybe hold onto the doorframe to keep himself from sinking into this deep, dark hole, but, the alcohol clouds his restraint, making him lose himself to his deepest, darkest desires as he reaches down and picks up the pretty pink panties.
He swallows thickly as he stares down at the panties in his hands. His heart picks up its' pace again, and he lets out another shaky breath once he feels his cock hardening just from the sheer sight of the panties alone.
He looks around, looking for you, but then suddenly remembers you're still on campus, probably doing a late-night class.
His cock strains against his pants again, as if it's telling Toji to just do it—do what he needs to do and get it over with, so, hesitantly, he listens to his urge. He slowly lifts the panties to his nose and he inhales softly at first, but, once he gets a small whiff, he becomes quickly addicted and so he inhales. He inhales strongly as the fabric of the panties stick to his nostrils, filling his head with the scent of you.
And, God, do you smell good. Your panties smell warm, and ripe, like you had been sweating in them all day. There's even little bleach stains on the lining of the panties where your discharge had been.
Fuck.
If he could get his hands on you right now, he'd be the happiest man alive, burying his face between your thighs to smell and lick your pussy to death, until you'd be cumming all over his tongue, but he can't so his hand begins to grope his own hard dick through the fabric or his pants.
He groans, leaning his head back as he lets out a shaky sigh against the fabric of your panties. He keeps them on his face while his hands move down to slip off his sweatpants where he tugs on the grey hemline, slipping them down until the fall into a pool around his ankles.
He huffs when his eyes dart down to look at his dick poking through his underwear. He should be ashamed that he's this hard after smelling his daughter's underwear, but, he's too far in now to give a fuck.
He tugs his underwear down and lets it fall down around his legs and he sighs when he finally frees his cock from their constricting confines.
He pushes the panties to the side on his face so he can spit into his hand with ease, before bringing his hand back down to his aching cock where he begins to slowly pump himself.
He groans, lowly, as he revels in the smell of your panties. His cock throbs in his hand while he continues to smell deeply, imagining that this was your pussy right here in front of his face.
God, how he wishes it were so. He wishes his tongue was pressed deep into your pussy, tasting the sweat that had leaked from your body during the day. He wishes his lips were wrapped around your clit, sucking on it fervently while you would whine and moan about his good his tongue is. He wishes his fingers were curling inside you, over and over again so he could hear your wet, squelching cunt as it would gush around him.
He'd call you his "good girl" and would kiss your thighs, thanking you for letting him explore your body—which is something he's been wanting to do for what seems like a while now, as he finally admits it to himself.
He just can't help but get hard around you. He doesn't know why, but he does. He knows it's shameful, which is why he turned around so quickly this morning from catching a glimpse from your pretty pink panties.
Nevertheless, he grunts as he continues to pump his cock in his fist.
The pace is slow and lazy at first, as he wants to savor the smell of your pussy on his nose, but then, it grows more desperate, more needy as he imagines different scenarios with you.
Maybe he'll actually be inside of you one day, if he can convince you—as now, he's convinced himself that he wants this—or maybe he'll fuck that pretty mouth of yours and hold onto your hair while doing it.
"Ugh... haa... haa..." Toji moans as his breath starts to get heavy.
His grip tightens around his cock, focusing on the head of it which sends a jolt down his spine. He squeezes it, and lets out another groan, making his body shudder.
He inhales your panties again, and his pumping turns faster. He groans.
It's a constant cycle of sniffing, inhaling, and then pumping at a quicker pace, until Toji feels his balls tighten.
He brings his other hand down and squeezes his balls gently and then—
He cums.
He groans, loudly, and finishes right there in the middle of your room, shooting cum into his fist and some of it leaks onto the floor.
Breathing heavily, he hangs his head while his chest rises up and down, letting the panties fall back onto the floor, where they were.
He huffs, and a low chuckle erupts from him upon looking at the scene on the floor and his hand, as post-nut clarity finally hits him.
"Ah, fuck. What the hell have I done?"
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kingdomvel · 2 days
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Steddie | 2.3k | first part
“Okay, what was that?” Gareth asks the moment they are inside the room they are using as a dressing room for tonight.
“What was what,” Eddie answers.
“You know damn well what I mean.”
Eddie doesn’t answer, putting his best poker face on.
“That weird mating ritual you have been performing with the boy in the front row the whole night, maybe?” Jeff adds.
“I have no idea what you are talking about.” Eddie says, his voice flat as he tries to avoid the other’s gazes. He takes a towel to dab at his forehead.
“Come on, man,” Freak butts in, “you told him to stay after the concert, you have told Chrissy to get them here. We said we were not going to be that kind of band, that we were going to be like My Chemical Romance: no groupies and after concert dnd sessions.”
“Yeah, if you go with that guy what happens to our dnd session.”
“We can play dnd any other day, okay?” Eddie snaps, his hands stretched in front of him. A part of him thinks he looks like that meme of Chris Pratt in front of the dinosaurs, the other part of him detests that he thought of him. “I will make it up to you.”
“Who are you and what have you done to our DM?” Freak asks, his voice serious.
“Yeah, what is this talk about postponing dnd for some boy?” Gareth adds, there is something in his tone Eddie doesn’t like.
“Some boy? Some boy? Am I the only one with eyes in this fucking band? He is the hottest person that has laid eyes on me and I’m not letting you fuckers take that opportunity from me for one session of dnd or I swear to God I am killing every one of your characters.”
The boys don’t answer, they look at him with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.
“Wow” a voice says from behind Eddie.
He doesn’t recognize the voice but the expressions on the rest of the band in front of him make him freeze. They go from slightly annoyed to wary and to bemused. Mainly a mix of all at the same time.
The sounds of steps approaching them break the silence that had fallen in the room, before a voice finishes breaking it.
“How does dnd work with you nerds anyway, are you all bards or what?”
The boys drop their mouths open. Eddie still doesn’t recognize the voice, but there is only one person it can belong to. He sounds just as good as he had imagined. Eddie is honestly afraid of turning around after what the boy- Steve- has surely heard.
“Don’t pay attention to him,” a woman’s voice says. There’s the sound of a hit and a quiet ‘ow’ from Steve under it. “He is just trying to sound all confident after whining-“
“Robin.”
“Telling me to not get my hopes up because he probably wasn’t anyone important and you just did this every concert-“
“Robin.”
“But of course he is the luckiest bitch in this planet and has his instant crush reciprocated and-“
“Enough!”
There are some muffled noises that Eddie can only guess are the girl trying to continue speaking. He wishes she wouldn’t stop. His knight in shining armour may be embarrassed, but the rant has put a smile on Eddie’s face, has given him confidence again. He crosses his legs and turns around slowly, his hands coming up beside him.
“By all means, let her continue.”
The adonis, the hottest man that has laid eyes on him, his knight in shining armour, Steve takes his hand away from the girl’s mouth and rubs it on his jeans. Eddie can only guess the girl has licked it. God he wants to be her so bad right now.
“Hey,” Steve says, his hand coming up for a small wave. “Sorry about Robin.”
“No need for that. I’m Eddie.”
“I know,” Steve answers with a cocky smile as he crosses his arms.
“Oh and now you are acting all full of yourself as if you didn’t ask for the name of the band like 20 times 2 hours ago.” Robin says.
“Will you please just shut the fuck up?” Steve asks with the confidence only a best friend can have.  
“Not a fan then?” Eddie asks amused.
“Not really my scene,” Steve answers. There is a scoff behind Eddie, and if he wasn’t so lost in Steve’s brown eyes, he may have moved to swat whoever it was. “But I sure am a fan now.”
There is now a groan behind Eddie, but he can only focus on the way his heart jumps at the words, the way Steve’s mouth lifts in one side in a smirk, how his eyes spark.  
“I can get you front row tickets to all the gigs, baby.”
There’s a gagging noise being Eddie, and this time he does turn around to swat at Gareth. The little shit just laughs at him.
When he turns back towards Steve he is looking between them with a smile on his lips and he looks- damn- he’s been looking beautiful since he saw him at the beginning of the concert that night, but now his hair is a mess from the almost two hours of sweating and moving around and Eddie’s on stage confidence is slowly being replaced by his fast beating heart.
“Look man I-“ Steve starts, “I don’t want to be a problem,” he adds, glancing behind Eddie as he bites his lip. The girl next to him- Robin- turns to him with an incredulous look on her eyes that Eddie is sure mirrors his own. “But you are hot, I want to take you on a date, and the others wanted to meet you.”
Robin rolls her eyes and looks at Eddie with an eyebrow up.
“The others?” Eddie manages to say, just before he remembers the teenagers around Steve all night.
“Yeah, they are with Chrissy, I asked them to give us five minutes before coming.”
Eddie is about to say something, maybe ask about the date Steve mentioned, but in a second the door is filled with said teenagers, the one with the curly hair in the middle of it.
“YOU GUYS ARE LEGENDS!” he exclaims. It makes Eddie less annoyed about being interrupted. No one has really called them legends before, they have just surpassed 150k listeners in Spotify.
It feels good hearing it.
The dressing room fills with chatter fast, the boys and the teenagers getting along without problem. They take photos, talk about music, about their instruments, about their dnd tradition. The bad part of it all is that Eddie gets separated from Steve. He catches his eye at some point and Steve sends a little wave his way that he answers. He is talking with Robin and Chrissy and, by what Eddie can hear, Chrissy is getting every video Robin has managed to get of Eddie’s and Steve’s interactions through the concert, even a closer video of the kiss than the one Chrissy managed to get. From what he can hear, she wants to post everything on their social media before ‘someone else does and steals the chance at going viral from them’.
Eddie doesn’t know how he feels about posting Steve like that, Eddie should have probably thought, about that before making out with the guy in front of all their audience. But he seems completely comfortable with all of it. Eddie guesses that comes with being as hot as Steve is and knowing it.
It’s some time later, enough that Eddie knows they won’t be able to stay much longer in the venue, that he finally has a chance to slip away. It’s perfect, he has just seen Steve leave the dressing room, probably in search of the toilet, and Gareth and the curly hair boy he has learned is called Dustin are so deep in conversation they don’t notice him stepping away from them and leaving too.
He catches Steve just as he is leaving the toilet. Eddie doesn’t stop to answer Steve’s surprised ‘oh, hey’ that turns into a more surprised ‘woah’ as Eddie pushes him back into the toilet and closes the door behind him.
“Hey” Eddie finally greets. Steve only looks at the closed door behind Eddie and then at him again with what Eddie hopes is amusement. God, he really hopes it’s amusement, he is just not realising how creepy this looks. “So, about that date.”
“Couldn’t wait until I came back?”
“No. I mean, yes.” Why is it so difficult to talk with a pretty boy? Eddie takes a deep breath, composes himself. Theatrics, he is good with those, they make him confident. “I was suffering, being deprived from your company by your companions, and didn’t have another option.”
Steve squints his eyes, “so you decided to have the date in the toilet?”
“What? No.”
Steve takes a step closer to Eddie so now their chests are almost touching. It hadn’t downed on Eddie before how they are almost the same height. It feels very important now when he has Steve’s face right in front of him, when he can look directly at his eyes, at how they drift down to Eddie’s lips. When his inevitably drift to Steve’s lips, the boy is biting his lower lip. “Eager.”
Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat, he may have miscalculated this. There’s something he wanted to say. “No, I-“
Steve chuckles, takes a step back. “Relax dude. I know you haven’t really agreed to the date yet, we got interrupted and all that.” Eddie is about to speak, to agree a thousand times to the date, but Steve keeps talking. “You just offered to buy me a couple of drinks and called me hot,” he smiles when he says that.
“I want the date.” Eddie says before Steve can keep talking, “as soon as possible.”
Steve steps back closer. “Eager.”
“We are leaving on tour, won’t be back for three months.” Eddie explains before all his brain functions completely shut down.
“I can wait three months.”
“I can’t.”
The next second Steve’s lips are on his, his hands are on his hair, and it only takes a second for Eddie’s to do the same. Steve is even a better kisser than he was in front of the audience. Steve pushes him against the door, brings a hand to his hip, pushes one of his legs between Eddie’s. Eddie just groans and lets himself be pushed and moved. Kissed. “Fuck,” he whispers when Steve pulls away for breath. Steve smiles, takes one of Eddie’s hands in his, and kisses him again. It’s so sweet and filthy at the same time Eddie might cry, but he just moves his hips forward, and Steve answers in kind, grinding against him and getting a groan out of both of them. Maybe the rockstars that hook up with people after concerts are onto something. Though Eddie doubts he would want to do this with someone that is not Steve.
A knock on the door startles them both, Robin’s voice coming from the other side.
“Steve?” Steve and Eddie stop kissing to look at each other in silence, their eyes wide. “Chrissy said we need to leave already and you’ve been in there so long I started to worry you were kidnapped. Wait, you are in there, right? Also, have you seen Eddie? He disappeared.” Steve moves, an innocent thing that has his groin brushing against Eddie’s. And he is only a man. He moans. “WAIT! Are you both in there? GROSS.”
Steve snorts, making Eddie smile. They can hear a couple of steps moving away from the door before they come back and there is a bang on the door.
“Steve! Come out you dingus, have you forgotten about your pack of kids?”
Steve lets out a whispered ‘fuck’ before he looks at Eddie with an apology in his eyes. Eddie lets himself be moved away from the door so Steve can open it to talk to his friend outside.
“Hey.”
Eddie opens the door more so he can also fit in the gap, Steve sends him a look, smiles at his appearance, and then looks at Robin again.
“Hey” Eddie greets too. Robin is looking at them and there is no hiding what they have been doing. She can surely see their bruised lips, their wild hair. Eddie just prays she doesn’t look down and sees the bulge in his pants.
“You two are gross, was making me see that once tonight not enough?”
“You have not really seen it this time,” Steve points.
“Still.”
“You are the one that came to interrupt.”
“And for a good reason! Your kids.”
“What about the kids,” Eddie asks.
“He promised to take them home.” Robin says.
“I promised to take them home.” Steve says at the same time, a resigned tone in his voice. He turns to Eddie, his brown eyes sad, and pinches his nose.
“Can’t she take them home?” Eddie points to Robin, and they both turn towards her again.
Robin takes a breath, stops, looks at them, looks at them, sees the tent in Eddie’s pants. Grimaces.
“FINE,” she agrees, and Eddie grins. “But you owe me. Big time.” She adds pointing at Steve.
“I’ll give you ice cream for life.” Steve says. It must be an inside joke because it makes Robin roll her eyes.
“Give me your car keys at least. Rockstar here can drive you home, can’t he?”
“I’ll have him home before eleven.” Eddie swears with a hand on his chest. The other two stare at him in silence. “A.m.” he adds.
“You heard him.” Steve says while handing Robin his keys.
“Okay,” Robin answers. She takes a step back. “Have fun.” She takes a couple of steps away before she turns around. “Use protection, he is a rockstar, we don’t know where his thing has been.”
“Hey,” Eddie protests, but Robin is already running away.
“She is kinda right.” Steve says with a shrug. Eddie purses his lips. “But I have an idea on where it can be in the near future.”
“Lead the way.”
Steve slips his hand into Eddie’s.
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crow-aeris · 22 hours
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okay but like, imagine an animal lover damian befriending a kelpie!Tim drake? Like damian wanders into a swamp to sketch some birds, and he sees this horse that's- wrong, but he's too much of a sucker to back down. So he researches horses, and damian keeps feeding tim
since kelpies sometimes have human forms, i think it'd be neat for him to bring tim back to the manor and everyone's freaking out because on one hand, this teen damian just brought back is giving really weird vibes- but on the other hand, damian has a friend!!
also, i think the thought of damian setting up a kiddie pool for tim and the batfam walking in on tim becoming a demon horse is just funny
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rayroseu · 1 day
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Wait this is actually interesting, so from what the story implies, Wild Rose Castle is weaker than Black Scale Castle because it probably has no magical atmosphere that serves as its defense, there's probably fewer troops here, and the fact that its just on a clear meadow makes the terrain not suitable for defenses unlike Black Scale who is atop a mountain and covered in a Valley.
So I kinda think that Wild Rose Castle is a newly built castle in Briarland. After all, Meleanor was a kid only 200 years ago so Wild Briar is probably that age as well (or more), i think that age is young (compared to Black Scale which probably several centuries old?) thats why it has weaker defense facilities.
Maybe Wild Briar is older as Black Scale, but this game says this is Meleanor's castle so I assume she's the one who had built this.
But I have this HC that this castle is actually built because of Levan. For his diplomatic mission between humans. Building a castle in an easy terrain would make sense to make it easier for magicless humans to transport in. Because I don't really expect(?) Maleanor who is a military commander, which she probably has knowledge of strategies, to not see how disadvantegous this location is considering its close to humans
But I also think Wild Briar was built as like a refuge for the faes that live far away outside Dragon City(I wont call it dragonopolis lol)
Wild Rose being a few centuries old also kinda makes sense since the Silver Owls only recognize Meleanor as the only ruler in Briarland, they probably arent aware theres a queen named Maleficia because she's ancient(?) atleast I didnt caught any silver owls mentioning her iirc(?) They went to the mountains near Dragon city yes-- but like it was to pursue General Lilia and not to besiege Black Scale as well even they kinda had the potential to do so since they took down Maleanor and Silver Owls' is implied to be very greedy--
I actually think its more interesting to not summarize Maleanor's cause of death as just her overestimating her win against Knight of Dawn-- I actually think its because of several reasons such as:
"Wrong time" in working out the diplomatic relations between the conflict between humans and faes, Levan's plan to educate wasn't pointless effort, but I wish the story states as well what he did to counter the fact that the faes hates humans not because of a misunderstanding, but because of their mistreatment towards faes(the story literally implies rhe humans kills faes meanwhile we have yet to see a royal guard fae that killed humans the story only tells us they chased them away), Levan does this when its clear that the Silver Owls was getting hostile, like objectively speaking, this was kinda not the right time to communicate and Meleanor was the receiving end of the build up hostility of the Silver Owls
This is kinda countering my first point, but Meleanor's decisions was kinda weird too in the story lol, why send your best Generals to the enemy fortress.... 😭💥 But I actually think this is interesting as well, because its likely a reference to the wars in LiveAction Maleficent... I remember watching that movie especially Maleficent 2: Mistress of Evil and just wondering why the Moors never plans (and even if they do its very simple, just charge in and overpower the enemy with strength), they just charge in instead of treating it "like a chess" where you save your best pieces in dangerous situations and everyone has a role in dispelling the enemy. They also hold this belief that only the strong ones would guarantee their success and heavily relies on them. Meanwhile, Queen Ingrid used deception and control to subdue all the faeries. Like Meleanor/Faes vs Humans, the faes never thinks about what the human enemy plans, they rely on raw dodging it lol probably alluding to the fact that the faes have trouble thinking like a human.
And lastly this point lol, poor choice of headquarters, the terrain is easy for humans to invade in, and the castle is still weak, also the fact that Wild Briar was alone in fighting several human nations was a factor as well because it couldnt get back up in time because it was too far away from Black Scale Castle, kinda adding Wild Briar was outnumbered too atp
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fae(?) bunny shifter reader x konig
I love it when konig calls reader haschen (and forgive me for not using accents on letters--I don't know how to add them on my computer). Hence why I love the idea of reader being a literal bunny (and yes--this is inspired by that one manwha I forgot the name of, but disregard that!)
There's really no sane explanation as to how Konig ended up with you in his bed. And I don't mean in a sexual way though it is hard to keep his eyes off you considering the fact that you're stark naked. As far as he knows, Konig hadn't drunk that night. Definitely didn't take any drugs. All he did was scoop up that rabbit that's been begging for food on his back porch, after he'd made friends through edible offerings. (Otherwise, the tiny rascal would be digging up his garden again.) Let it--her?--snuggle close into his side on a particularly cold night, when the first snow began to fall.
Then he blinks, and the girl is gone--replaced once again by that fluffy little thing.
Konig panics for a half second, wrenches the blankets from his bed. As if a whole human being could hide under already-flattened sheets. Once he realizes you're not there, though, he once again takes the bunny in his ginormous hands and continues to stare. Because what the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck.
Over the next few days, he doesn't dare keep the rabbit in a cage, or kick it out again. He just observes it intently like one would waiting for water to boil. But nothing ever happens when he's ready for it--the girl appears only when his back is turned, when he's exhausted. When he's blinking away sleep in the morning light. There in a flash, and gone again. He genuinely thinks he's going crazy, especially when food starts piling up in random places. The closet. Between the couch cushions. Food too big and too much for a mere bunny to move. But surely that's impossible. He's never taken to folklore or spells or--
Then he installs a camera.
"She is magic!" he once yelled, shoving the bunny in a visiting soldier's face. Meanwhile the rabbit's nose just twitches, innocent and seemingly oblivious. All he gets is a weird stare.
"Sir, I think you need to see a doctor--"
"Magic!!!"
_
Bonus Thoughts:
You're not even a stray. Not even wild. You have a cottage a little further into the woods, but your human neighbor's been awfully generous despite having caught you stealing a few times. Whatever. Free food is great. Free anything is great. Not to mention the TV and microwave, and other gadgets you've never seen before. Hence not realizing what the hell a camera does, and why he's now extra manic after he installed one in his room.
Speaking of benefits, you also no longer have to get your steps in. He carries you around in his pocket wherever he goes. So now you get to see the world, too--the farmer's market, the gas station, etc. And when you seem particularly interested in something, he buys it right away. Now you've got a little corner of trinkets from your mini-travels, all for you.
Oh, and lots of chin scratches. Pat pats. Naps in his lap because you fit there so perfectly.
Will he ever see you--live--in your human form for more than .5 seconds? Maybe. Maybe it happens in the middle of the night, when he wakes up to a weight on his chest, and your hair sprawled across his shirt. Maybe it happens, and you just give him a slow, sleepy blink, and nuzzle into the crook of his neck. Maybe he's yours now, and he hasn't realized it.
His bunny. Your man.
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cottonlemonade · 2 days
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Mr Steal Your Girl
word count: 1311 || avg. reading time: 6 mins.
pairing: post-time skip!Kenma x chubby!Reader
genre: fluff, University
warnings: spoilers
synopsis: Kenma tries to ask you out but has awful timing
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It was already hard enough to dress for a normal date but finding an outfit for a blind date you didn’t want to go to to begin with was impossible.
Your best friend was annoyed that she couldn’t take you and your chronically single self on any double dates and so decided to take matters into her own hands. At least once every few months she would close her eyes and pick a random guy walking around the campus cafeteria and ask if he was interested in a “cool, funny, smart girl that was just too shy to ask herself” and most of the time that was enough. The date was set, your friend dragged you along and you had a miserable two hours before being allowed to return to your natural habitat - your dorm room.
In her defense, most guys she selected were actually very nice. And except for the last one who had forgotten his wallet, then ate his weight in burgers, let you pay, and had since vanished without a trace or payback, they all knew how to behave. They kept the conversations going, complimented you, and usually asked for a second date, but you liked being alone and besides, dating was stressful. Who needed the whole hassle of getting dressed up and leaving the house? You wanted someone who liked to spend their time indoors, watch movies, play games, build a Lego set or two, snuggle, and snack.
Kenma was convinced that you were perfect for him. Witty, had excellent taste in games and music, and a figure that put every body pillow he ever received as a promo gift to shame. He spent the better part of any lecture twirling his pen in his long fingers and staring at the back of your head, then quickly snapping his eyes the other way, pretending to look intently at the monitor upfront if you happened to turn around during a stretch. He remembered overhearing one of his former classmates once saying that asking someone out was easy, but now that Kenma absently drew a heart with your initials on the side of his notes, he found he didn’t share that sentiment. Partly because he didn’t like to go out in the first place, so how would he convincingly invite someone to something he didn’t even want to go to either?
None of his friends knew about his crush on you and he wasn’t going to admit it to them. Not because he would be embarrassed if they knew, but because he didn’t want to be grouped together with your small and not-so-secret on-campus fan club - a bunch of desperate boys who all wanted a piece of the chubby queen of homebodies. So he denied any allegations that quickening his sluggish steps on the way to the lecture hall to sit in your vicinity, his sleep-deprived heart eyes and doodle-adorned notepads meant anything. Pondering, he tapped the tip of his pen onto the paper, trying to figure out a way to invite you to play games with him, romantically. He wasn‘t going to stoop as low as to ask Kuroo for help and instead took to the wild seas of the internet for advice.
As he scrolled through the many many forums, sifting through mostly bad ideas, he overheard one of your friends say, “It‘s just dinner and a movie. Give him a chance. He is the captain of the swim team after all.“
Kenma‘s heart sank - and then bounced back up immediately when you groaned.
“Look, it‘s sweet and … a little concerning how much you care about my love life, but I‘m not interested in him. Or anyone really. I just prefer to be alone.“
100% understanding and agreeing with you, Kenma chewed the inside of his cheek, thinking if it would come across as weird and creepy if he were to ask you to be alone together.
“But I worry about you.“, the friend pouted.
You laughed and gently put a hand on her shoulder, “Not everyone meets the love of their life at university.“
In truth, you just didn‘t want your friend to know about your ridiculous crush on Kodzuken. Your heart had almost jumped out of your chest when you first spotted the tell-tale half-dyed ponytail in your class and heard the all too familiar voice during a presentation project. It was silly, really, and you did well pushing your infatuation to the very back of your mind.
After all, whenever you tried to catch a glimpse of him he would look away immediately, making it all too clear that wasn‘t interested in a conversation.
It was no use either way. Your friend wouldn‘t stop pushing until you were social for an evening so you chose your usual - well fitted jeans and a thin, long sleeved sweater to keep the cold and any potential bodily contact to a minimum. Your friend waved when she recognized you getting off the bus. She was already waiting in the arms of her boyfriend with a tower of a guy right next to them, who, when seeing who his set-up was going to be, looked a little disappointed. Oh great.
Kenma felt more pathetic by the second. All day he had tried to work up the courage to catch you in a calm minute to ask you out before your date. If it went well with that guy, chances were he wouldn’t ever let you go (if he knew what was best for him), so this was basically his last opportunity ever. When he didn’t manage to ask during class, then neither during lunch, nor in the library he never went to before, and neither at the bus stop, he thought he might as well face the fact that it wasn’t meant to be. But he found himself a few hours later behind you in the queue at the movie theater, he heard you were planning to go to. He would have to ask now before he’d have to buy a ticket. As he politely waited for a lull in the conversation between you and the Iron Man your friend set you up with, Kenma tried to busy himself with a game on his phone to calm his nerves. But he became so engrossed in a level that he missed his chance and could only watch you walk away with your friends. He should just give up. This was ludicrous.
“One ticket to whatever movie they just went to.”, he said before he could stop himself.
Just turn around. Turn around and leave. Come on.
But his feet had other plans. With the overpriced movie stub in hand, he shuffled to the auditorium and searched in the crowd for you. Unfortunately, the first marker he found was the tall guy next to you, talking to your friend and boyfriend, leaving you to sit quietly and awkwardly to the side.
He walked up the steps and your eyes met. Your cheeks blushed, as did his, and with the confidence of a deflated balloon, he came to a halt next to you, hands in his pockets.
“Hey y/n, I’m Kenma. I’m in your business class.”
“I know.”, you said and he was already relieved. First hurdle down. Now, carefully…
“Do you wanna go to a gaming café together?”
“Wha- right now?”
“I mean, yeah, if you don’t have anything else going on.”, he looked past you to the guy who just stared at him in disbelief and added in appeasement of your date, “Nothing personal.”
You exchanged a look with your friend who was just as shocked as the others and she shrugged. You turned back to Kenma.
“Sure thing.”
He held out his hand, then felt silly doing so and was about to lower it when you grabbed it.
“Lead the way.”, you said brightly and he did.
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spiderbeam · 2 days
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and okay feel free to ignore this one because ive sent a bunch already buttt 🎧+max+7
🎧 — bugambilia by nasa histoires
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Max is nervous. He hadn’t realized it until the bell dinged with his entrance, until you spoke your usual greeting, until your eyes met his and a smile spread over your lips. He’s a three time world champion, an icon of the world of motorsport, a celebrity—and yet he finds himself growing jittery at the sight of you.
Of course you’d be the type to fall for the one person in Europe who doesn’t know your name, Danny had teased.
He’d denied it. He didn’t have feelings for you. He had simply developed a fondness for flowers—and he just happened to like yours most.
“Didn’t think I’d be seeing you this soon.” You dust your hands on your overalls as you stand up to greet him. You look pretty in overalls, he finds. Prettier even with your hair held up by a bow—alongside that lovely smile that always makes his heart skip a beat in his chest. “Thought you said you were leaving the country for work.”
Max realizes then he’s stayed quiet for too long. “Um, yeah,” he starts awkwardly, hands tucked in his pockets before he takes them out soon after. What do people usually do with their hands? “I did. It was just for the weekend, though.”
“Did you have fun?” you ask, before meeting his gaze with a playful roll of your eyes. “I know, work is work, but…”
“It was fine,” Max clicks his tongue, hoping he doesn’t sound too dismissive. “Not great.”
“Sorry to hear that.” You purse your lips, thinking for a moment. “Maybe you can rant a little while I trim these?” You gesture at the newly arrived flowers.
Max chuckles a little. He’s done plenty of ranting. Mostly in front of a camera. “Actually, I was hoping to get to hear you talk about your flowers—maybe give me a hand?”
You straighten as you stand up, nodding. “What’s today’s purchase gonna be?”
“Another gift,” he says, even though he’s ran out of friends to gift bouquets to. Twice is two times too many before they start looking at him weird.
You nod your head, ponytail bobbing. “Alright.” You clasp your hands together, smiling up at him. “Wanna look around for something that catches your eye, or are you in search for anything in particular?”
Max tilts his head at you. “Which are your favorites this week?” He asked you the same question last time, and the time before that. But, as you told him before, you can’t make up your mind—not permanently, anyway. Each time he comes around, you have a different answer prepared for him.
This time, you’re grinning. “C’mon, I’ll show you.” And then your hand is in his as you steer him towards the very back of the shop—and Max can feel his breath stuttering. He blinks in rapid succession, hoping to get himself to snap out of it. Jesus Christ, you’re just holding her hand. Pull yourself together.
Finally, you stop beside a shelf with purple and fuchsia flowers with papery petals and tiny light yellow blossoms inside them. Max feels as you let go of him, prompting him to step closer to the flowers. He leans forward, hoping to catch some floral scent like the lilies and jasmines you gave him a few weeks back. He doesn’t smell anything.
“They don’t have a scent,” you tell him. “It’s bugambilia. Bougainvillea. It’s not usually used for bouquets, though, so people rarely buy any. Except for this one woman, Marisol—she says it reminds her of home. But she only takes a few branches, doesn’t really want them as a bouquet.” You’re smiling when he turns back to you. “They don’t grow around here—not naturally, anyway. It’s why I like them.”
“Bougainvillea,” Max repeats, committing the syllables to memory. “So you’ve never had to sell a bouquet of these?”
“Not yet.” You shrug. “It’s under appreciated, in my opinion. I mean—most people just buy roses. Maybe sunflowers.”
He remembers you ranting about that last week. How impersonal is it to give red roses to someone on a date? It’s like giving a gift card. No sentiment whatsoever.
And Max, surprisingly enough, agreed. He believes in personal gestures. Gifts that proof you’ve been listening, that you’ve been paying attention. And as he side-glances at you, he can see your stare still lingering on the purple and pink flowers. He doesn’t need to think it over before he’s saying: “I’ll take it.”
You nod in approval, reaching up to take a few flowers. “I knew you would,” you say proudly, nudging his shoulder playfully. “You’ve got good taste, Max.”
Max chuckles. “Not really,” he says, shaking his head. “I just happen to know someone who does.” He’s looking at you as he says it, scratching his cheek, but he can see your lovely smile falter slightly. His brows pinch together.
You haul your selected bougainvillea onto the counter, with Max trailing close behind. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who buys as many flowers as you do—not that I’m complaining.” You try to sneak a glance at him as you’re tying off his bouquet. Max relishes in the heat that crawls up your cheeks when he catches you.
This is his chance, he realizes. But then he’s running circles again because what if you think he’s creepy? That he’s been buying flowers from you in hopes of finally building up the courage to ask you out? It’s not only creepy, it’s pathetic. It’s been nearly a month since he first met you. It’s taken him a whole month to get to this. Stupid. And since when does he get nervous like this around girls? He’s Max Verstappen.
But you’re you.
“You okay?” you ask, peering at him. “You’ve been a little quiet today.”
“Yeah, sorry. Um, I just—” He means to ask you, he really does, but this one tiny detail doesn’t escape his attention as you leave the flowers on the counter, wrapped in pretty ribbons, ready for him to take home. He stares at you, dumbfounded. “I—I haven’t paid yet.”
Your expression sends butterflies fluttering around his stomach. “Consider it a gift. For keeping me company on a slow day.”
But Max is already pulling out his wallet out of his back pocket. “No, no, I can pay.”
“Max,” you say, voice caught somewhere between soft and stern. “It’s a gift. You don’t pay for gifts.”
He scratches his cheek again, a quirk of his you’ve come to find endearing. “Doesn’t this get taken out of your paycheck?”
You shrug nonchalantly. “No one buys bougainvillea. One of my coworkers would’ve probably ended up throwing them away.”
You’re dodging his question, and Max doesn’t know how to tell you that he can afford it without making it seem like he doesn’t appreciate the gesture.
You seem to decide for him when you grab the bouquet and hand it to him. Your fingertips graze his knuckles, shooting sparks beneath his skin. He should ask you now. You’re smiling like you don’t even know the effect you have on him.
“Your—”
“Would you—” Max clears his throat, pink on his cheeks. “Sorry. What were you saying?”
You smile again, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. You laugh lightly, but it doesn’t sound as genuine. “Nothing—just that your girlfriend’s really lucky. I’d kill to have someone buy me as many flowers every week.”
“My—what?” Max blinks once. Twice. Three times before the words finally dislodge from his throat. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Oh, your boyfriend?” you amend, playing with your fingers.
“I’m not seeing anyone,” Max says bluntly. He’s still cradling his bougainvilleas as he watches realization wash over your face.
“Oh.” Heat is climbing up your cheeks, and for the first time all afternoon, you’re the one stumbling over your words. “O-Oh. I just thought that—I mean, since you’ve been coming around so much, and you’re like, handsome, and sweet, so I just assumed—”
“Do you wanna go out some time?” Max interrupts, ears tinted red. There’s a pretty blush spreading his face. A giddy nervousness building up in his gut. “With me, I mean. Do you want to go out with me?”
Your lips curl upward, heat radiating from your face. Max feels flowers growing in his chest. Hydrangeas, carnations, tulips, wisteria. Purple bougainvillea flowers.
“Yeah. I’d like that.”
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eve’s 1k celebration 🎧
this one was very loosely based on the song more on the vibes than the actual lyrics so i might revisit this song and make another more angstier drabble in the future….. for now i just recommend giving the song a listen <3 also i’m not used to writing for max AT ALL so hopefully it didn’t feel too ooc
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meo-eiru · 17 hours
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Not sure if you ever answered an ask like this, so if you did please forgive me.
But would having a child with Silas cause him to tone down his mothering tendency, or would it make them worse?
Like would Silas focus his desire to be a parent onto his child, or would it become a weird dynamic where he's acting like a mother to both Y/n and his child?
Actually no, in fact his mothering might just increase because he would think you'd need extra care after having a child.
He just has two people to mother now but that doesn't mean you'll be getting any less attention and care from him.
It was asked before so I'll answer it here as well but I think you'd need to have a long talk to him about how the family dynamics would work. He wants to mother you even after realizing his romantic and sexual attraction to you but you'd need to explain to him how the same dynamic won't work with a literal baby and I think he'd instinctively understand it too to certain degree. Both by viewing how you take care of the baby and the roles you take at taking care of it, and also the roles that falls on him.
Elven family dynamics are quite different than humans. And being a mother is something Silas idolized in his head based on the story books he read, he prefers being a "mom" over being a "dad" because based on the books he read mothers often had a deeper emotional connection with their kids, and they were the ones who took care of the baby's basic needs most of the time. He would take the title of a "dad" for the baby but I think he would still want to be a nurturing parent. Feeding the kid (with actual food), putting it to sleep, reading it stories... Those moments where he gets to form a real connection are what Silas always dreams of, a connection he can't form with elves.
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machveil · 1 day
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Trying not to think about Simon 'Always Doing Acts of Service and Caring for Others Silently' Ghost Riley forgetting to care for himself as much, and how it would probably touch a part of his heart he thought wasn't there anymore if someone did the same for him. Something simple, like just a new jacket after his old one got wrecked from wear and tear, that's thick and durable but soft and comfortable, a nice weight on his shoulders but doesn't make him sweat, resting over his chair. Or after a long day of work where he's dragging himself along, finding a meal already made for him sitting in the fridge, something actually cooked and seasoned the way he likes so he doesn't have to think about cooking or go to bed on an empty stomach. Idk, this has been rattling around in my brain all day and I needed to get it out, sorry if this is weird! Also really like your art and writing, congrats on the 1k, you deserve it and so much more!
anon I’m smooching your big, beautiful brain (I wrote this in one sitting, hope it’s not terrible lol)
Simon Riley is a man of action - Ghost, the most literal manifestation of serving. Ghost follows and gives orders to assure his team, his friends, make it home safe at the end of a deployment. as a Lieutenant, Simon wouldn’t say it out loud, but he cares so deeply for his team. Task Force 141 is a second home to him, more so the people, and thus makes it his job to protect them
but Simon Riley is also a man of action off duty - a civilian who’s heart rests in your hands. loyal as a dog, Simon would do anything for you. a man of action, he’ll insist you relax, you shouldn’t lift a finger for something small. anything Simon can do in your stead he will. because, while his team is a second home, his true home is you
but Simon, stubborn and strong as he is, gets tired. front door clicking shut, mask already being tugged off, his muscles are tense and sore after a long day. dirty blond hair messy and eyes half lidded with exhaustion, he’s still only got one thing on his mind - to serve you and make you happy. he already planned on trudging into the kitchen to make dinner, something simple but filling. he pauses when he smells food already though
kicking his boots off, worn and dirty, he makes his way to the little kitchen around the corner. cracking a small, barely there smile at the sight in front of him. you, moving about the kitchen. the lights a little dim - he’d change the lightbulb later, and there you are, cooking a meal. one step ahead of him, and he soaks in the domestic scene. a part of him wants to step in, tell you you’ve done enough and he’ll finish everything off… but he doesn’t have the heart to disrupt this cozy, intimate moment
it’s only when you see him does he approach, hands a touch too rough and calloused - he’s sure you’ll make him moisturize later. “Smells nice, lovie.”, he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your hairline. eyes fluttering shut as he holds your hands, a small grin tugs at his lips, “S‘pose the food smells good too.”. he relishes in the laugh that leaves you, the way you squeeze his hands. he moves to press a kiss to your jaw, slightly crooked nose nudging against you as his hands wander to your hips - touch featherlight, as if handling you any rougher might shatter you
there’s a reluctance in his heart as he lets go of you, scoffing when you tell him to go sit down. “Bossy little thing.”, he mumbles, voice lighthearted as he leans back against a counter. he stays there for just a moment, one last glance at you happily cooking - cooking for him. it melts his heart knowing that you’re just a loyal as him, that you’d both run to the ends of the Earth for each other
he’s content to finally relax, leaving the kitchen to slump against a chair in the small dining room. head tilted back a little as he rolls his shoulders, his hands move to idly take his belt off - he’d change later, a hot shower after dinner always made him feel better. maybe he’d convince you to join him, better yet— maybe he’d convince himself to indulge in a hot bath instead. and when you join him at the table, sitting down next to him with a full plate for him, Simon feels butterflies in his stomach
he loves eating with you, sharing a meal and letting his guard down. gaze smitten as he listens to you recount your day, breathing steady as he hums. and when everything is done, stubborn man, he’ll take the dishes to the kitchen. as much as he’d like to wash them straight away, he settles for leaving them in the sink tonight. soon enough he’s sweeping you up in his arms - no matter how roughed up and sore he is, he always finds the strength to carry you. he’ll ignore any protest that, “Simon! I can walk—“, a gruff chuckle rumbling in his chest, “Know that, love, but I can carry you just fine.”
and from then on, Simon feels like he’s floating. in a dreamlike state, he sets you down on the cool bathroom floor, feet making contact with tile. gently thumbing at your hips, he presses a soft kiss to your lips, “Thank you.”. soft spoken words contrasting his gravely voice, another kiss pressed to your cheek - lips a little chapped, but he’s never heard you complain about them
and when you help each other slowly strip, the bathroom filling with mist like steam, he feels the tension in his muscles give. he puts up a little fight, grumbled words, when you insist on sudsing him up. he’s all bark though, when he feels you rub his aching shoulders he feels like he could never muster up any bite ever agiain. comfortable and turning to putty in your hands, he’ll happily let you mould him into a soft, gentle man
he’ll lazily return the favor, rough hands lathered in your body wash. content. feeling you under his palms, warm skin dotted with beads of water and bubbles, Simon’s content. a warmth in his chest that he’s still not used to. the simple intimacy of washing away the sweat and filth from the day, it makes Simon feel like a new man - and to wash you? he’s happy you feel safe enough, that you trust him, to handle you so carefully
and at the end of the night, cleaned from the dirt of his daily life, Simon settles in bed with you. all gentle touches and soft, murmured praise - you did so good for him today. he fights the back of his mind off, you’ve taught him better than to believe those gnawing words. Simon Riley deserves this. a phrase you carved into his heart, long since settled at the forefront of his mind. and as he holds you to his chest, warm hand on the small of your back, he sighs deeply…
a man of action deserves rest
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