#latest warm up exercises

[fitnessmantram]

Morning Warm Up Exercise #6 #fitness #exercise #morningexercise #warmup ...

A better way to start your morning is with a good warm up to increase blood flow to your muscles while simultaneously getting your body ready for the activities of the day. Give this dynamic warm up a try the next time you wake up feeling stiff and sore

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[on-a-lucky-tide]

Simon loves being Price's demonstration dummy. He loves the aftermath even more.

cw: sexual content, a horny lieutenant, body worship, oral sex, anal sex.

"Start by securin' a grip on yer opponent's arm with one hand, and use the other hand t' grab their collar or shoulder. Carrier vest works well too."

Simon stood at his captain's side, his body relaxed as he prepared to go airborne in the name of practical demonstration. He'd be lying if he said it wasn't his favourite part of the week... well, that and what always followed.

He watched Price from beneath low lashes, drawing deep, slow breaths through the fabric of his mask, if only to keep his bloody heart from thumping through the wall of his chest in excitement. Price's hands warm and firm against his body even through the cotton of his shirt, and his skin tingled in their wake.

"Step t' the side and lower yer hips while bringin' yer opponent close to ya," Price said, his attention on the new recruits gathered around the mat. Simon didn't resist as his captain drew him close, but he did breathe him in; sweat, deodorant and cologne, a deep musk that gathered at the back of Simon's throat, made his mouth water. Simon wanted to shove his nose into his ruffled hair, underneath his arm, across the ruff of his chest, for that scent to soak through to his bones.

"Yer shoulder should be positioned under their armpit. As ya pull yer opponent forward an' down, rotate yer hips and shoulders into them. Use yer legs t' lift an' drive yer shoulder into their body. Big fuckers like this? You gotta use their weight," Price moved and Simon's feet left the floor, "against 'em."

Simon's back hit the mat, punching a grunt from his chest, and he felt the familiar thrill unfurl down his spine as Price's body crowded over him. He studied the dark v-shape of sweat in the front of his shirt, the glisten of wet up his throat that disappeared into the scruffy stubble of his beard. Fuck, Simon wanted to lick it off him.

"As yer man's thrown, maintain yer grip t' control his fall and prepare for a transition into a dominant position or submission. Grapple, choke. Don't pause t' catch yer breath," he explained, half sprawled over Simon's body, his thick chest pressed to Simon's, so close that Simon felt the vibrations of his voice against him. "Any questions?" There weren't any. "Good. Pair up. Technique over strength."

The squaddies grabbed a buddy and headed to the other mats, and Price looked down at his junior officer's face. "You bulkin'?"

"Yeah."

"Thought so. Had to put some welly behind that one," Price said, lopsided grin making Simon want to shove his tongue down his throat. Those blue eyes framed in scruff and laughter lines, the curves beneath his sloped collarbones, the effortless way he had thrown Simon's sizable bulk to the floor, his form perfect, the explosive power in his body exercised with trained precision; everything about him made Simon feral.

The captain rolled to his feet and Simon grabbed the arm he offered down. "Take the four over there. Positioning like that's gonna lead to somethin' tearin'."

"Rog."

Simon wandered over to correct the indicated trainees and Price observed another set. This latest batch were promising, but they were almost skittish in their desperation for approval. More likely to make mistakes and second guess themselves. They needed to relax into it, listen to their instinct over the noise in their head. Simon decided to break the ice with the next demonstration.

It was a simple manoeuvre that tended to be a whole lot of fun to finish the session; the ranger roll. Quick and snappy way to pluck someone from the field and leg it under fire. Price was a pro at it. Simon upped the difficulty by latching onto a nearby bench, locking his legs so that Price flailed on his back halfway through the roll, splayed over Simon's belly with an arm hooked under his knee.

"What the fu--?" Price glanced up, saw Simon's ploy and elbowed him in the gut in retaliation, smirking. "Ya bloody muppet." The recruits laughed, their stances noticeably relaxing as Simon shrugged apologetically. Ice broken. Price rolled to his feet and performed the move again. This time, he lifted Simon from the floor, and Simon draped over his shoulders with a soft, satisfied hum. Fuckin hell, he needed Price on his back, needed those strong thighs around his hips, needed to hear that gruff voice sex-rough, fucked raw.

Simon suffered through another twenty minutes of watching others perform pale imitations of Price, before the captain finally dismissed them to the showers, heading out of the gym to his room.

Simon stayed long enough to ensure no one lingered by the dumb bell rack before swapping out of his boxers and shorts to a pair of grey joggers; he wanted as little between him and his prize as possible. Hands shaking, he knocked at Price's door after pursuing him down the corridors, shouldering his way inside only when Price greeted him from behind it. "Feelin' impatient, Simon?"

Simon watched as Price stripped off, revealing damp curls of chest hair, the sweat-slick curves and slopes of his body, still pumped from exercise, thick and flushed. His mane of brown scruff was ruffled out of place, sticking up in all directions, begging for fingers to grab it, to tug until he was forced to show his throat.

Simon's cock thickened in his joggers, pressing out against the soft grey material, and he folded his mask up above his nose in anticipation. Price chucked his t-shirt onto the floor, standing there in his shorts and nothing else, built like a fuckin greek hero and begging to be defiled, blue eyes dark. "C'mon then, boy. Come get it."

Simon didn't need telling twice. He growled low in his chest and surged forward, barreling Price into his bed, his mouth pressing to his throat as he ground his hip forward between Price's thighs. "Mmf, fuck, yeah," Price moaned, fingernails snagging in Simon's t-shirt as he bucked eagerly.

Price arched, his body begging for worship even if his voice stayed stoic, understated. For now. Simon buried a hand in his hair and pulled his head back, sucking and laving biting kisses down the arch of his throat to his chest, mouthing thick muscle with desperate, wet licks, before sucking a nipple into his mouth with a grateful moan. Price tasted like heaven, raw masculinity and power, and Simon wanted to overwhelm him, overcome the strength roiling beneath his skin, possess it and feel it wrapped around his prick until it yielded to him.

Mine, mine, his mind chanted, his nose burying in Price's armpit as he forced one of Price's arms above his head. Simon ran the flat of his tongue into the groove of it, tip flicking over the veins in his bicep before he sucked kisses into that flesh too. Price gasped, a low, raspy sound deep in his throat, his erection pressing up into Simon's belly, and Simon sank off the edge of the bed as he worked lower.

There was a layer of plush on Price's abdomen and Simon nipped at it, tonguing the trail of hair that disappeared below the waistband of his shorts, before wrenching those down too. Price's full cock bounced free, the slit wet with precum, but Simon ignored it to bury his face in the dark curls around his sac, inhaling the deep musk of him with a feral, half-wild growl.

"Filthy git," Price said through a throaty laugh, only to dissolve in a low moan as Simon sucked, wet and open mouthed, at his balls, teeth threatening tender skin in a way that made Price's cock twitch and throb with arousal. Simon didn't leave him waiting too long, swallowing the thick bulb of his glans to the back of his throat, tongue writhing and wriggling beneath his shaft. Price arched, strong fingers scrunching at Simon's mask and then dropping to grip the blonde tufts that escaped the back of it.

Simon let him fuck up into his mouth, his arms curling around his thighs to pull them apart, Price's heels nudging the backs of his shoulders. It was erotic, the way Price's body moved in search of pleasure, even splayed and vulnerable. His command didn't falter. "Nnh, Simon, fuck, fuck... Yer mouth's a bloody treat, sweet'eart."

Simon growled and pulled off, leaving strings of saliva and cum to trail down his chin to the tip of Price's cock as he stared up the naked length of him to the mischievous blue eyes watching him. Price knew what he was doing. Knew how he was baiting Simon to fuck him until his legs didn't work and his throat was raw from the moaning. Simon's cock ached, the brush of soft fleece enough to make him rut forward against the mattress in search of pleasure. "C'mon, Simon. Fuck me," Price snarled, strong thighs testing Simon's grip on them.

Simon surged up his body to smash their mouths together, teeth catching chapped lips, the taste of copper between them as he snatched the bottle of lube from where Price had chucked it in full anticipation of the railing he was about to receive. Simon squirmed out of his joggers, thick cock rutting into the sweat and spit slick skin of Price's hip, fisting the bed sheets with one hand as he gathered enough self control to tilt to the side and soak his cock in lube. A messy fist smoothed the gel down to the base before gathering Price's legs up his torso, his tip pushing into the snug grip of Price's hole.

"Mmf, fuck, slow, slow... Fuckin hells," Price snarled, nails biting into the side of Simon's neck as Simon quivered under the strain of self control. He rolled his hips in short, measured thrusts, easing in slowly, hunching down to kiss the grimace of concentration off of Price's face.

Simon was a decent length, nothing to sniff at, but it was the girth that truly satisfied, left people wrecked. It had taken previous lovers time to work up to and even Price, practiced and experienced, huffed deep breaths as his body yielded to it. "God bloody fuck, mm..." Price cussed, pushing his head back as he rocked up to meet Simon's hips, sliding himself up and down the full length of him. "Yeah, tha's it, right... Ah, right there, Simon, fuckin... Ah."

He was fucking beautiful like this. Beautiful. There weren't a word that fitted better. Blue eyes misty, his head thrown back, the flush of pleasure down his neck, splashed across his furred chest. His legs spread wide and wanton as Simon's fat cock sank into his greedy hole. Simon wanted to look, but he also wanted to taste, his teeth scraping through the scruff of Price's beard on their way to his neck. The pace was sweet torture, the pleasure curling up his spine, his balls pulled tight, sinking in all the way to the hilt, hoping Price'd be able to feel him in his guts if he thrust deep enough.

"G'wan, fuck me proper, boy," Price rasped, rewarded almost immediately with a firm thrust that startled a yelp out of him. It was all the encouragement Simon needed, gathering Price's legs to his shoulders as he began to piston his hips at a relentless pace, fucking hard and fast into the warm, wet clutch of Price's body.

Simon loved making Price loud, his bitten off cusses peppered with lower moans, gasps that almost bled into whines when Simon found the right angle. It was a complete and utter fracture of his iron control, and Simon revelled in it. His own noises ran away with him; snarls, growls, Price's name, his title, sir. The dizzying pleasure unspooled through him from head to toe, the day's tension burning out of his muscles with every pant of exertion, Price's body milking his cock with the most delicious friction.

Price didn't touch himself. He never did at first. He liked being fucked; liked the way a thick cock felt as it spread him open and pounded his prostate, his hands fisting the bed sheets as he met each thrust, demanding. When Simon shifted onto his feet, curving Price's hips up until he was fucking down into him like an animal mounting a mate, deeper, harder, than before, Price finally fisted his cock in search of his building release.

Simon lost track of anything but the heat of Price's hole, the pulsing clutch of it around his prick, the increasingly desperate noises each of his thrusts punched out of Price's chest. His orgasm curled up his spine, pulling taut in his muscles, his balls high and tight as he held off until the end he desired.

Price's hand stuttered and then he was spilling, thick ropes of cum splashed over his chest and neck, his impressive cock throbbing and flicking in the circle of his fingers as he teased himself through the aftershocks. Simon went to pull out, but Price snarled, "Don't you... fuckin dare. "

It flicked a switch in Simon's head, cut the final thread of a chord that had kept him tethered, and he began to rut like the animal he was. The wet slap of his hips grew louder as he chased his high, Price's groans broken around the pain-pleasure of overstimulation, his hole more lax post orgasm, relaxed, sloppy with lube and precum, the noise of Simon's cock fucking into it as obscene as his command to be bred full that punched out in the next breath. "Fuckin... breed me, Simon."

Simon came with a bitten off shout, grinding down into Price 's body as his balls emptied in hot, heavy pulses. Price moaned, pressing up into Simon's hips, rocking slowly as Simon's stuttering thrusts ended with him staying as deep as he could until his cock had stopped twitching, brimming Price with a week's worth of frustrated build up.

"Fuckin hell," Simon rasped, slumping down onto his elbow as he drew out, satisfied by the wetness that covered Price's thighs in the aftermath, and the puffy redness of his fucked out hole.

"Hope they do," Price murmured, shaking legs dropping off the edge of the bed. Simon slumped onto his back, and Price rolled onto his side, following him. "You broken?"

"Nah. Fuckin knackered."

Price barked a laugh. "Simon 'One Nut Wonder' Riley."

"Fuck off," Simon blustered through a laugh of his own. "Aren't you meant to be gettin' a limp dick at your age anyway?"

"Watch it," Price shot back, but without heat. He patted around blindly for his cigarettes and lighter, striking one up between his lips. He took a toke before passing it across to Simon, who puffed smoke at the ceiling thoughtfully.

"Surprised maintenance haven't beasted you for that smoke alarm yet."

"They'd have to catch me first."

"Wiley bastard."

Price smirked as Simon passed the cigarette back, smoke curling from his nose as they both gazed thoughtfully into the dark above them, comfortable and quiet in the afterglow.

They fucked again a few more times that night; slower, closer to lovers than the raw fuck of earlier, and Simon spooned up behind his captain, thrusting into him as he tenderly kissed his neck, drawing out softer moans and praise. "Yeah, Simon... Mm, fuck, that's, ah, ah, please..." The way Price arched into him, muscular body spreading itself eagerly to be pleasured, gravelly voice demanding and pleading in equal measure, made Simon heady with lust and adoration.

Simon wasn't sure what the fuck they had, what it was called; he knew it was wrong by the standards of the service, but they'd have to pry it out of his cold dead hands.

[bloodchapell]

Do you want to write anything for Dr.Stone? Maybe hcs of what it’s like living with the characters? Platonic or not doesn’t matter.

what it's like to live with dr.stone characters

what to expect: implied stanxeno

your sword's note: thankyu so much for the request dear anon! let me know if i should do a part 2 with more characters, more on my mistresslist

senku

you never know when he is home, he could not come home for three days straight or come home at the same time every day

extremely organized but somehow doesn't mind some mess (as long as it doesn't disrupt his organization of important things)

if you are living with him as a roommate, this guy needs to know you for this life and three previous ones, if on a relationship it needs to be a really serious one for you two to live together

you will find things in the fridge that should NOT be in the fridge (with a note saying "do not consume unless you want to 10 billion percent die")

his computer needs to run insane calculations so it can also run almost any game, he lets you use it (if you mess with his stuff the universe might colapse)

really popular: he either sleeps on a senior citizen schedule or has lost track of reality

if on a relationship: ideally he wants separate rooms, he doesn't want to disrupt your sleep when he is engulfed in the latest project and occasionally just wants to sleep on his own, sometimes tho he just crawls into your bed and lays stiff until he falls asleep, always wakes up hugging you or being hugged, swears on copernicus' name that he doesn't like it but it keeps happening (is this a pattern?)

great at following cooking instructions but can't innovate

showers with cold water for the "benefits" and complains if you take too long on the bathroom

folds clothes horribly so he just hangs them

no pets (its for the creature's safety i swear)

gen

if on a relation ship: u found a four of clubs in your underwear drawer? no you didn't

will manipulate you into cooking (either way don't let him cook)

collects cards decks and has them displayed

solid skincare routine, can't decide if he does some form of exercise like pilates or idek, have y'all seen his waist!? is that body tea natural???

if on a relationship: feet and hands always cold and he seeks your warmth when you sleep together, refuses to put on socks (bro walked everywhere without shoes in the stone world, he'd do that at home too)

will eat your food, he doesn't care if its labeled

hates chores day, but he is also really organized so that helps (has a random hidden pile of chao)

your place will always smell good because he brings flowers regularly

why are there 3 six-packs of cola in the fridge?

tsukasa

either brings mirai really often or straight up lives with her, she has her own room and all

cooks delicious meals my gawdd

if on a relationship: he makes sure you don't have to do a single thing. cooking? he got it. chores? he got it. you want the lights off? done. craving something? he will go buy it

if on a relationship: lets you brush his hair, play with it and take care of it (this is my dream)

this guy wakes up at the crack of dawn and will be making some protein shake that is inhumane

i hc that he really likes photography for some reason, so he will have pictures all up his room (or the entire place if you are together)

if on a relationship: he is a human heater, he is so damn warm when sleeping is kinda scary

exercises every single day (no shit), might drag you along

trophies and all displayed

ryusui

MANSIOOOOON

francois lives with you too, they have their own room

idk what is the situation here if you are roommates, makes more sense if you are together

you don't have to do a single thing, ever, it is all taken care of

you open doors and discover full on facilities that you never knew the place had, it keeps happening (is this place infinite?)

if on a relationship: your room matches those of royalty in webtoons, gigantic bed, a closet like barbie's in life in the dream house, a vanity with every product you could ever imagine, the bathroom has a massive tub and a smartass toilet

he would ask you to accompany somewhere real quick (you end up across the world on a party), if he ever asks for some of your time and you deny because of work, he will buy whatever company you work on and give you infinite paid vacation, if its because of studying he backs down and lets you study

has so many dogs, francois handles their schedule

the mansion is so big that you get surprised when you meet him unintentionally

if on a relationship: you also have separate rooms, and a room for the two of you

he brings sai over (against sai's will)

stan and xeno

why would you live with these two? are you their adopted child?

elegant ahh house

you are allowed to have a fish

chrome

rocks everywhere !

in the new modern era he is fascinated by simple house appliances. the microwave heats up the food? THATS BAAAAD. the washing machine washes the clothes? THATS BAAAD (downside is that he will take apart everything to learn how it works and it may not function again OR he will invent a house appliance that already exists "what if we had this artifact that woke us up through a bell?" "oh you mean an alarm clock?" he falls backwards)

organized as hell, knows where everything is. has he seen your polka dots sock? hell yeah

[cottonlemonade]

Being MSBY’s Single Dad

word count: 1055 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.

pairing: Meian x chubby!Reader (feat. Sakusa)

genre: fluff

warnings: spoilers

Sakusa had been in a foul mood for some time now but today it reached its pinnacle.

Two weeks ago he twisted his ankle during training and since he had quite the history of downplaying any injuries and then suffering their consequences, Meian decided to accompany him on his latest checkup, very much ignoring Sakusa’s protests. The captain leaned against a filing cabinet, arms crossed and a small smile on his face as he watched you bend and knead Sakusa‘s foot with gentle proficiency. The younger man grimaced barely noticeably when you pressed your palm flat against his sole, but upon his wince let up the pressure immediately.

“You‘ll sit this next one out.“, you said firmly, writing something in his chart.

“It‘s not that bad. I can play no problem. I just have to warm up.“

“Ah, you heard what she said. Doctor‘s orders.“

“She isn‘t even a doctor.“, Sakusa mumbled under his breath.

“Rude!“, Meian scolded.

“True though.“, both you and Sakusa replied in unison and the captain grinned when you added pointedly, “However, as your lowly physiotherapist I will give you some more stretches to do. It‘s better than last time but give yourself another week and you‘ll be as good as new.“

You took a seat at your desk, writing down a short list of daily exercises, adding quick sketches for demonstration. As you did, Meian detached himself from the cabinet and walked over to Sakusa to help him back into his shoe, which he reluctantly allowed.

“And while you‘re at it, be nicer to the others.“

“You still haven‘t made up?“, you turned around and looked at Sakusa incredulously.

“If it wasn‘t for these idiots this never would have happened.“, he noted sharply.

“True, but they did apologize.“, Meian reminded him, “Multiple times.“ You hid your chuckle at his tone, very reminiscent of a dad trying to explain to his son the concept of forgiveness.

“They deserve to stew.“

“Wait, you had such a colorful way to describe them when you came in last time.“, you tapped your chin with your pen in thought, trying to remember, “I believe you called them “a bunch of orange cats whose brains are powered by a singular, already dim lightbulb“, am I right?“

Meian covered his snort with the palm of his hand, then rolled his shoulders and tied the shoelace as he cleared his throat.

“Please don‘t say that in front of Bokuto. His hair hasn‘t been the same since the accident.“

Sakusa clicked his tongue in annoyance and let Meian help him off the exam table.

“Here.“, you stood up and handed him two notes, “This is for some new painkillers, take them when needed but no more than three a day and these are the new exercises. Do them every morning and every night before bed and if it‘s not better in 3 to 5 days come see me again. Aaaand-“ You opened a desk drawer and took out a bright yellow lollipop.

“What‘s that?“

“All the good kids get one.“, you shrugged and smiled.

Sakusa rolled his eyes, snatched the lollipop nonetheless, and limped over to the door.

“You coming?“, he asked, hand on the handle.

“Wait in the car. I wanna get my shoulder checked out.“

“I‘m not some kid. I‘ll get a taxi.“

“If you wait for me, we can get ice cream on the way back!“, Meian called after him.

“Whatever.“, Sakusa pulled the door closed behind him, leaving you and the captain alone to burst into laughter.

“How do you manage them?“, you sighed and shook your head, then looked at him expectantly, “So, what‘s up with your shoulder?“

“Dunno, can‘t quite get my movement radius like usual.“, he swung his arm back and forth until it wrapped around your waist and pulled you close, “Huh. Seems like I‘m healed.“

He held your chin between index finger and thumb and leaned down to meet your lips. You giggled into the kiss, placing one hand on his cheek while running your fingertips along the back of his neck with the other. He hummed happily and deepened the kiss, playfully tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth.

“When can I tell them?“, he asked softly once you broke from each other, linking your fingers with his.

You nuzzled into his broad chest instead of an answer and he wrapped both arms around your soft round figure, slowly swaying on the spot. Back when you started working with the Jackals it had only taken a few months of stolen glances, not-so-accidental touches, and careful courting until Meian asked you to be his girlfriend right before an important match. You agreed immediately under one condition. And while he was never a fan of keeping your relationship secret, he understood that you were worried about what it could mean for either of you if it didn‘t last or if you were being accused of abusing your power. But at this point, it was well over a year and he would appreciate it immensely if Atsumu stopped trying to set him up on blind dates all the time.

“Nothing bad will happen, I promise. I read my contract over and over. I know that thing by heart. Nowhere does it say that we can‘t be together. Just…“, he pulled away a little to rest his forehead against yours, “let me show you off, hm? You know how Bokuto always sprints to his wife after a match to hug and kiss her?“

You nodded

“Well… I wanna do that, too.“

“Wife, huh?“, you teased.

“Princess, let us be public and I‘ll get you a ring so fast you won‘t know what hit ya. Cause I draw the line at secret wife.“

“Alright alright… next match. You can come and kiss me.“

“Yeah?“ His eyes practically glowed at your reply.

“Yes. But you better be faster than Bokuto.“

“Deal.“

Please imagine Meian overtaking Bokuto on the way to kiss his wife in the next match.

Imagine if these races became a thing after matches.

Imagine, when he does it for the first time, Sakusa is caught in the background of a picture of Meian kissing you with the most wtf face.

There would be fancams of their races after every match. People would keep score.

a/n: thank you to @haikyu-mp4 for the headcanon that Sakusa is photobombing the first fancam xD

[drabbles-mc]

Ooooh I love this idea and Bob is in need of some serious comfort especially after reading the latest update of Invisible Silver Linings 😭

It was really really hard to pick just one. I wanted to pick so many but could I please get 🥰 - Post-nightmare cuddles for Bob? 🥺

hugging you through the screen for this 🤗 we LOOOOOVE a Bob Reynolds Request in this house. 🙂‍↕️

........okay this was supposed to just be a fun drabble/ficlet exercise but this turned into a whole actual fic. 1.4k of cuddles and comfort under the cut! xo

also yes, this is the least i could do for all of us after chapter 5 of invisible silver linings 😅

You hadn’t felt him wake up. Both of you tossed and turned so much in your sleep that the rustling of blankets and pillows wasn’t enough to jostle you from slumber. One of the only things that would rattle you awake was if one of you accidentally kicked out in your sleep, and even then, it wouldn’t take long to settle right back in again.

The sound of someone trying to choke back a sob was what woke you up this time. Reflexes took over before your eyes had even opened up, your hand feeling across the mattress for Bob out of instinct. As your wits slowly started to return to you, you found him sitting upright in the bed, blanket long forgotten and knees pulled in tight to his chest.

“Bob?” you asked, even though there was no one else that it could be. You rubbed at your eyes with one hand while the other reached to turn on the lamp beside your bed. “Hey, you okay?”

Warm light cascaded over the bed, but despite how inviting it should have been, Bob turned away from it. He sniffled and wiped at his face. You frowned as you pulled yourself upright, scooting closer to him.

You kept your voice as quiet as you could, and yet your whisper still felt too loud. “What’s wrong?” Resting your hand between his shoulder blades, you ran it up and down his back. “Talk to me.”

He shook his head, still not ready to meet your gaze. No matter how much time went by, there were still some small tendrils of shame that he had yet to shake. Too many times to count you’d wished you could reach right into his head and sweep them away once and for all.

Bottom lip still trembling, he tried to sound less shaken than he was. “It’s nothing.” Another sniffle. “’m fine.”

Past experiences told you that there was only so much prying you could do before he shut down completely. He’d talk when he was ready—he always did. So you nodded before letting your head rest on his shoulder. Both of you were leaning against each other and the headboard to keep yourselves somewhat upright.

You pulled your legs up the same way that his were, tipping so that from your knee to your hip your leg was flush against his. When you felt him relax against you, your hand that had previously been resting against his back slipped between his legs so that your fingers wrapped around the front of his shin. A comforting sort of embrace that allowed him to still have his arms draped on top of his knees.

He tried to focus just on the warmth emanating off of you. From your palm through his pajamas and into his shin, from your cheek that was resting against his shoulder. The outside of your thigh that was pressed to his. You’d called it grounding once, when he told you about the things he tried to focus on. The name seemed fitting.

Eyes still wet with tears, he tried to get his breathing back to normal. Once he did that, he could try to talk to you about it. He knew that trying to tell you that it was nothing was pointless, but it was a reflex that he still hadn’t kicked. A lie meant to buy him time that he knew you’d give him freely regardless.

The feeling of your thumb gently rubbing back and forth across his shin held his attention until he was finally ready to try and talk. “It was, uh, it was a bad dream,” he finally said, voice still riddled with small cracks of emotion.

You tilted your head just slightly so that you could look up at him. “Would talking about it help?”

He shrugged, and then did a double-take to make sure he hadn’t disturbed you by doing so. Reassured by the sight of your head still on his shoulder, your eyes still searching his, he continued. “It wasn’t anything real.”

You always wondered if that made it better or worse. He wiped at the tears that were still staining his cheeks. You could hardly try to venture a guess at what horrible scenarios the unhealed parts of Bob’s brain came up with, but you wondered if there was at least some comfort in knowing that it wasn’t real. Flashbacks had a more tangible nature to them—there was no rationalizing them away.

He tried to pull in another deep breath in an attempt to steady himself, but you could feel how shaky it was. You caught the way he gnawed at his bottom lip to try and stop it from trembling. He turned his head so that he was facing you, his nose and lips pressed against the edge of your forehead for a moment so that he could breathe you in and gather himself.

You could feel the brush of his lips against your forehead as he spoke. “You were gone.” He paused, the lump in his throat making it nearly impossible to speak. “I—” he stopped himself short, unable to finish the sentence, instead pressing his forehead against yours. Eyes shut tight, he shook his head and repeated the words he could manage. “You were gone.”

Frown pulling at your lips, you leaned into him. Using your hand on his leg, you pulled him as snug to you as you could. “I’m here,” you reassured him, voice soft and steady the way that he needed. “We’re okay.”  

He nodded, repeating your words back to himself like a mantra. “We’re okay.”

In the minutes that followed, the two of you both slowly sank back down so that you were laying together on the bed once more. You draped the blanket back over both you and Bob, keenly aware of the way that he kept his eyes on you the entire time. Almost as though if he looked away he was afraid that you’d disappear.

The two of you were laying close enough to each other that you were both using your pillow. Each time one of you shifted at all, the tips of your noses would brush. The small intimacy got a smile out of you, brought a little bit of light back to Bob’s eyes for a moment. Part of you wanted to reach and turn the lamp off, but there was something comforting about the warm, yellow light that you weren’t ready to give up yet. Bob didn’t seem bothered by it either. A nightlight after a bad dream wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

He rested his hand on your hip, fingers grazing your skin beneath the t-shirt that you wore instead of pajamas. Reaching forward, you rested your hand against his cheek. His eyes fluttered shut at the contact. The sight of that allowed you to finally take an easy, deep breath as well.

Then he tightened his grip on your hip for a moment, and before you could ask if he was alright, he was pulling you closer to him. The tension that had been rising in your muscles instantly faded away when he tangled his legs with yours. He wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tight. You smiled, knowing he could feel the curl of your lips against his skin. One hand on his cheek, one pressed against his chest so you could feel the thrumming of his heartbeat. If there was a way to stay just like that forever, you would’ve.

His breathing slowed as the minutes ticked by. His heartbeat evened out and you could feel it in the planes of his muscles that the hold he had on you, while still tight and secure, wasn’t desperate or filled with fear anymore. If it hadn’t been for the fact that every now and then he’d trail his fingertips up and down your back, you would’ve thought he’d finally fallen back to sleep.

You had no idea how long the two of you had been laying there tangled up like that. It was long enough for you to feel like you were on the brink of falling back to sleep. You’d been fighting it only because you wanted the reassurance that Bob had gone back to sleep first.

Right as you were about to force your eyes open to see, he let out another deep breath, the kind that let you know he was finally about to let himself rest again. The words he said next came out soft and sleepy, mumbled against the skin of your cheek. “We’re okay.”

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[misswynters]

Gym Confession

tom taylor x gn! reader

word count: 1.3k

a/n: the fic i’m writing for aeron/benji/reader is taking forever so here’s another one!@benjicotblckwood

The early morning sun peeked through the windows of the gym, casting a warm glow on the equipment. You and Tom Taylor had made it a habit to work out together whenever your schedules allowed. Today was one of those rare days where neither of you had any pressing commitments, and you were determined to make the most of it.

Tom was already at the gym when you arrived, warming up with some stretches. He flashed you a bright smile as you approached. "Hey! Ready to get started?"

"Absolutely," you replied, returning his smile. "What's the plan for today?"

He glanced at his phone, where he'd made a rough outline of the workout. "I was thinking we could start with some cardio, then move on to strength training. How does that sound?"

"Perfect," you said, feeling a rush of excitement. Working out with Tom was always fun; his enthusiasm and positive energy were contagious.

You both hopped on adjacent treadmills and began your warm-up. As the treadmills hummed beneath you, Tom started to talk about his latest project. "So, we've just wrapped up filming, and I think this one's going to be really special. The script was incredible, and the cast was amazing."

"That's great to hear," you said, slightly breathless as you picked up the pace. "I can't wait to see it. You're always so passionate about your work."

Tom grinned, clearly pleased. "Thanks. It means a lot to hear that from you."

After the cardio session, you moved on to the weight machines. Tom adjusted the settings on one of the machines and gestured for you to take the first turn. "How about we start with some leg presses?"

You nodded, positioning yourself on the machine. As you began your set, Tom stood by, offering encouragement. "You've got this. Keep your back straight and push through your heels."

His supportive words and watchful eye helped you maintain proper form, and before you knew it, you'd finished your set. Tom took his turn next, and you returned the favor, cheering him on.

"Come on, Tom! You make this look easy," you teased, watching as he effortlessly completed his reps.

He laughed, the sound bright and genuine. "Don't be fooled. I'm working hard here."

The two of you moved through the rest of your workout, alternating between different exercises and machines. Between sets, you chatted about everything from favorite movies to weekend plans, the conversation flowing naturally and easily.

As the session drew to a close, you both found yourselves at the stretching area, cooling down with some light stretches. Tom reached over and handed you a bottle of water. "Here, you need to stay hydrated."

"Thanks," you said, taking a grateful sip. "I think that was one of our best workouts yet."

"I agree," Tom said, his eyes meeting yours with a warm, genuine expression. "I always look forward to these sessions. It's nice to have a workout partner who pushes me and keeps things fun."

"Right back at you," you replied, feeling a sense of camaraderie and appreciation. "You make it so much easier to stay motivated."

As you both finished your stretches, Tom glanced at his watch. "Hey, I've got a bit of time before my next appointment. How about we grab a smoothie or something?"

"That sounds great," you said, smiling. "I know just the place."

You both headed out of the gym, the sun now higher in the sky, promising a beautiful day ahead. The nearby smoothie bar was a favorite of yours, known for its delicious and healthy options. As you walked, Tom fell into step beside you, the easy conversation continuing.

When you reached the smoothie bar, you both ordered your favorites and found a table by the window. As you sipped your drinks, Tom leaned back in his chair, a contented look on his face.

"Days like this are the best," he said, his eyes reflecting a sense of peace. "Good workout, good company, and a great smoothie to top it off."

You nodded in agreement, feeling a similar sense of satisfaction. "Couldn't agree more. It's nice to take a break and enjoy the little things."

Tom's gaze softened as he looked at you, his smile gentle. "You know, I'm really glad we do this. It means a lot to have you as a friend and workout partner."

"Same here," you replied, your heart warming at his words. "Here's to many more workouts and smoothies together."

Tom raised his smoothie cup in a mock toast, and you clinked yours against it, both of you laughing. It was moments like these that made you appreciate the special bond you shared, built on mutual respect, support, and genuine friendship.

As you finished your drinks and prepared to head your separate ways, you couldn't help but notice the way Tom's eyes lingered on you a little longer than usual. There was something in his gaze, a hint of unspoken tension that hadn't been there before.

Later that week, you and Tom found yourselves at the gym again, ready for another workout. This time, there was a slight awkwardness in the air, a tension that neither of you had addressed yet.

Tom adjusted the settings on the bench press, his movements more deliberate than usual. "Let's start with this today."

You nodded, sensing the change in his demeanor. As you took your turn on the bench press, you could feel his eyes on you, watching your every move. When it was his turn, you stood by, offering the same encouragement he always gave you.

"Come on, lord of the north. You got this," you said, trying to keep the tone light.

He managed a small smile but didn't respond with his usual banter. Instead, he focused on his reps, the silence between you growing heavier with each passing moment.

After finishing the set, Tom sat up, wiping sweat from his forehead. He glanced at you, his expression conflicted. "There's something I need to talk to you about."

You felt a knot form in your stomach. "Okay. What's going on?"

Tom took a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. "I... I've been feeling something more than just friendship between us. And I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want to ruin what we have. But it's getting harder to ignore."

Your heart raced, a mixture of emotions swirling inside you. You had always valued your friendship with Tom, but now you were forced to confront feelings you hadn't fully acknowledged.

"I don't want to ruin what we have either," you said softly. "But I can't deny that there's something there."

Tom's eyes softened, relief washing over his features. "So, what do we do?"

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing thoughts. "I think we need to be honest with each other. We can take things slow and see where it goes. But whatever happens, I don't want to lose our friendship."

Tom nodded, a small smile forming on his lips. "I can agree to that. Slow and honest."

The tension between you eased slightly, replaced by a sense of anticipation and curiosity about what the future might hold. As you continued your workout, the unspoken understanding between you added a new layer to your interactions.

Later, as you cooled down with some light stretches, Tom reached over and gently squeezed your hand. "Thanks for being honest with me. It means a lot."

You squeezed his hand back, feeling a sense of connection that was deeper than ever. "Thank you for bringing it up. I'm glad we talked about it."

As you both left the gym and headed to the smoothie bar once again, the conversation flowed more easily. There was still a lot to figure out, but you knew that with honesty and openness, you could navigate this new phase of your relationship together. Sitting at the same table by the window, sipping your smoothies, you felt a renewed sense of optimism.

[my-mind-is-incognito]

Wanna Duet? (Hugh Jackman x Reader)

summary: you're an interviewer sitting down with 2 of the hottest celebrities, both fresh off their latest movie. during the interview, one of them feels the need to shake up the script a bit

warnings: None that I can think of, other than intense yearning for an unattainable man (tbh isn't that why we read and write these sort of things anyway?)

author's note: Um, hi. It's been a couple of years since I've contributed to this site and this particular blog, other than reblogging other people's much more notable work. But the new deadpool movie, as well as Hugh Jackman, has literally got me hostage by the ovaries and I just needed to put this random fantasy into words and put it out there into the world. Please be gentle. I haven't written anything in years and it is so weird to me now.

When you call my name

It’s like a little prayer

I’m down on my knees

I wanna take you there

In the midnight hour

I can feel your power

Just like a prayer

I wanna take you there

The lyrics to that familiar song softly tumbled from your lips as you studied the notecards in your hand while your shoulders softly rocked to the beat. You wanted to make sure the questions were etched in your brain; as a journalist tasked with interviewing celebrities, you needed to maintain your A-game when it came to these video shoots with the Hollywood elite. You couldn’t afford to stumble over your words or, even worse, have an awkward silence creep into the conversation. 

A knock at the door brought you out of your reverie, and Maggie, the producer, poked her head in. “They just arrived,” she informed you. “Ten minutes.”

You flashed her a thumbs up and got out of your seat to loosen your stiff muscles and fight the enormous grin spreading across your face. Today’s scheduled shoot was one you were particularly looking forward to: a simple sit down interview with two of the hottest stars, fresh off the premiere of one of the most anticipated movies of 2024. Somewhere on the premises, Hugh Jackman and Ryan Reynolds were waiting to speak to you, and your Marvel-loving heart was hammering in your chest in anticipation. The butterflies were certainly in hyperactive manic mode today. 

Maggie studied you with a laugh. “Excited, are we?”

“Aren’t you? We’re about to meet Deadpool and Wolverine!” You took a few deep breaths, channeling your professional side. But soon, the facade fell and you were grinning like a jittery idiot. ”How are they? Are they as ridiculously gorgeous in person?”

Maggie grinned. “Yes, plus super nice. Definitely making the top 10 nicest guests list. Hurry up and get out there.” She then left and shut the door behind her.

Biting back the urge to squeal, you took a few composing breaths and willed your heart to stop racing like a schoolgirl in love. Picking up your phone, you started scrolling your phone for a song. Singing was always a typical warm-up exercise for you; it helped you loosen up and provided an outlet for your nervous energy. Showtunes were usually your go-to songs, and you had a particular soundtrack stuck in your head for the past few weeks. 

“Ladies and gents, this is the moment you’ve waited for,” you sang softly, shimmying your hips to the beat of the song. “Been searching in the dark, your sweat soaking through the floor.”  Another hip wiggle on beat as you spun on your heel and held out a dramatic fist in the air. “And buried in your bones, there’s an ache that you can’t ignore, taking your breath, stealing your mind, and all that was real is left behind…

Don’t fight it’s coming for you, runnin’ at ya

It’s only this moment, don’t care what comes after

Your fever dream, can’t you see it gettin’ closer?

just surrender cuz you feel the feeling takin’ over

It’s fire, it’s freedom, it’s flooding open

It’s a preacher in the pulpit and your blind devotion

There’s something breaking at the brick of every wall it’s holding

All that you know

So tell me, do you wanna go?

Where it’s covered in all the colored lights

Where the runaways are running the night

Impossible comes tre, it’s taking over you

Oh, this is the greatest show!

We light it up, we won’t come down

And the sun can’t stop us now

Impossible comes true, it’s taking over you

Oh, this is the greatest show!”

You blew out one more calming breath and grinned with confidence before striding out the door. Time to get to work.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“So I’m sitting there, my brain melting in my skull from all these fucking hot wings, and the first sentence out of my mouth is ‘I CHEAT AT WORDLE!’”

You and Hugh burst out into laughter as Ryan recounted his and Hugh’s recent experience on Hot Ones. As expected, the interview was going without a hitch. Both men were excellent subjects, genuinely enjoying the process and providing laughs amongst the crew in between the Q+A. Their bestie banter and overall chemistry was so contagious that it brought everyone at ease. And also as expected, both men gave you the urge to subtly fan yourself with your notecards. While both had the leading man looks, Ryan had a dry wit and a delivery that was deadpan and entirely on point, never failing to get a laugh from everyone in the room. Meanwhile, Hugh had a megawatt smile and an Aussie timber in his voice that had you shivering in your chair, and his laughter was as warm and pure as sunshine itself.

“So, Hugh, you’ve mentioned how you were still doing Music Man when you were cast to return as Wolverine. Did the mental and physical preparation for this role clash with your preparations for your Music Man performances?”

Hugh chuckled. “It’s funny you mentioned that, because I had actually lost a bit of weight while doing Music Man. I mean, it’s eight shows a week and each show is a cardio workout like nothing else! So I had to start increasing my calories and, you know, pumping iron in between shows and it got to the point where I actually split my pants onstage during a show!”

You gasped while Ryan just shook his head and laughed. “Yes, the legendary Jackman ass returned, as jacked as ever!” Ryan snarked, which had Hugh guffawing. “Oh, easy there, buddy. No need to break a hip on top of that.”

You futilely hid your laughs behind your notecards, genuinely enjoying this experience. “Well, guys, this has been an absolute pleasure. As a Marvel fan myself, this movie has been long awaited and completely worth it. Any parting words you’d like to leave the audience before we sign off?”

”Actually,” Ryan suddenly interjected, shooting an offhanded smirk at Hugh, “I had a question for you.”

Well, that was unexpected. “Wait, really? For me?” you asked, confused. 

”Yeah, betcha didn’t see this coming, but yes, the tables have in fact been turned. The interviewee is now the interviewer.” Ryan crossed his legs and placed his hands on his lap, smiling mischievously. “See, I happened to be skittering around backstage, and whilst—“

”Whilst?”

”Don’t interrupt me when I’m talking, Hugh Bear. It’s very rude. Yes, whilst skittering back there, I happened to pick up on some backstage karaoke from a certain interviewer.”

Your eyes widened and you hid your gaping mouth behind your hand. “Oh God.”

“Do you deny it?”

“You heard that?!”

Ryan pointed an accusatory finger at you. “Don’t your DARE hide that angelic voice from us, ma’am!”

Hugh switched his focus between you and Ryan. “Wait, did I miss something? What’s happening?”

”Dude, get this. I heard her singing Greatest Showman in the back and she sounds amazing!” Ryan nudged Hugh before holding out a hand to you reassuringly while you continued to gape. 

“Is that right?” Hugh inquired, interest piqued.

You laughed nervously, shielding your face in your hands. In the back of your mind, you wondered if your makeup was good enough to hide the flush spreading across your face. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing.” 

“Please don’t confuse my enthusiasm for mockery!” Ryan was quick to say, holding out a reassuring hand. “Honestly, I had chills hearing you. Your voice is gorgeous! And clearly you have excellent music tastes due to your song choices. Seriously, I loved it!” Ryan gushed. “My question is, where did you learn to sing? Like, I’m literally jealous because out of the three of us sitting here, I have no musical talent whatsoever, and my singing usually results in children crying. But yours just sounds so good!”

”I wanna hear her sing now,” Hugh remarked cheerfully. “High praise from Ryan is definitely a good voucher.”

“Oooh, that would be so great, Hugh. You could audition her, because her choreo needs a little bit of work. Kinda limited, but I’m sure your rusty hips still got enough wiggle in them to teach her something.”

Both men laughed and leaned forward, their attention on you, and you couldn’t help but cower behind your papers and burst into another fit of panicked giggles. “I have no idea what is happening right now,” you remarked shyly.

Ryan got out of his seat and stood beside you. “Audition jitters, I get them all the time. Here, I’ll coach you through it!” He cleared his throat and adopted a more professional tone, gesturing between you and Hugh. “Alright, so you are at your callback audition. The casting director—obviously, that’s me—liked your stuff and now I wanna do a little screen test with our leading man—that’ll be Hugh.” 

At this, Hugh leaned forward and shook your hand warmly. “Hey there, I’m Hugh Jackman. I’ll be doing this scene with ya.”

You shot a quick glance at Maggie, who silently urged you to play along. So you chuckled and firmly shook Hugh’s hand. “Pleasure to be working with you, sir.” He replied with a warm smile that made your stomach somersault.

Ryan clapped his hands. “Alright! We are looking for some chemistry between our two leads. Let’s see, what’s a good duet song?” He eyed you expectedly. “I won’t ask Hugh, because the man is a neverending jukebox of showtunes. Now’s your chance to put a quarter in him and pick a song.”

You fidgeted in your seat, pausing to think before replying, “Okay, if we are going to do this, I just want to get this off my chest. Hugh, I am a HUGE fan, not just of your work as Wolverine, but your musical roles as well.” In response, he patted his heart and mouthed ‘thank you’ while Ryan rolled his eyes and made the yak-yak motion with his hand.

You continued. “So, if we could, and this is something I’ve always wanted to do…could we sing ‘A Million Dreams’ from Greatest Showman together?”

His eyes lit up and he nodded. “Yeah! I’d love that!” 

You practically bounced in your seat, shaking out your hands in pure excitement while a huge grin spread across your face. “Oh my god, I can’t believe this is happening!”

Hugh got out of his chair and gestured for you to do the same, which you did quickly. “Gotta make it like a real audition,” he informed you with a wink that got you giggling.

Ryan scooted his own chair back and sat back in it, much like a director overseeing a scene. “Okay, are we all good? Pay no attention to the multiple cameras looking at you or the lights beaming down at you, mmkay? It’s most likely nothing new for you. And…action!”

Hugh made a big show of clearing his throat a few times. “Sorry, I’m not warmed up,” he said.

“No one cares, Hugh.”

“And there isn’t any music.”

“Still not caring, Hugh.”

“Thanks, Ryan.”

With the rest of the crew laughing, Hugh finally took your hand in his and, gazing into your eyes, began to sing:

Every night I lie in bed

The brightest colors fill my head

A million dreams are keeping me awake

I think of what the world could be

A vision of the one I see

A million dreams is all it’s gonna take

Oh, a million dreams for the world we’re gonna make

You were mesmerized by his singing. Listening to him on recording did absolutely no justice for him. Never in a million years (no pun intended) did you think this could be happening to you, that Hugh Jackman could be singing one of your favorite songs directly to you. You forced yourself to focus on your breathing and remember your cue. And when it came, you were more than ready to belt out:

However big, however small

Let me be part of it all

Share your dreams with me

Ryan was flashing you a thumbs up while the rest of the crew were cheering you on. Hugh was grinning ear to ear, clearly enjoying himself.

You may be right, you may be wrong

But say that you’ll bring me along

To the world you see

Hugh nodded encouragingly, joining in:

To the world I close my eyes to see

I close my eyes to see

He got down on one knee, clutching his chest dramatically as he still held your hand.

‘Cause every night I lie in bed

The brightest colors fill my head

You grinned in reply and posed cutely in response.

A million dreams are keeping me awake

A million dreams, a million dreams!

As he shot back up, he spun you around, and the two of you both dramatically sang back to back, harmonizing on the final verse.

I think of what the world could be

A vision of the one I see

A million dreams is all it’s gonna take

A million dreams for the world we’re gonna make

As you held that last note, you felt Hugh wrap his arms around your shoulders. Knowing your role, you smiled and leaned against him.

For the world we’re gonna make

The end of the song was met with thunderous applause from everyone on set, with Ryan being particularly enthusiastic in his clapping. “You got the part!” he exclaimed.

You laughed breathlessly as you and Hugh separated. You clutched your face, grounding yourself from the incredible high you were flying on, all while that silly smile on your face still shone brightly. 

Hugh clapped you on the shoulder. “Very well done!” he remarked. “I’ll be sure to keep you on call as my backup leading lady.”

“Oh my god, stop,” you beamed, still a bit breathless. “Karaoke is one thing, but I dunno about leading lady stuff.”

He smiled and gently kissed your hand. “Don’t sell yourself short,” he replied with a wink.

Maggie caught your eye from behind the camera, signaling you to wrap it up. Remembering your job, you quickly looked at the camera and said, “Uh, Deadpool and Wolverine is out in theaters now! Many thanks to Hugh and Ryan for joining us today!”

“Cut!” Maggie announced.

And thus ended probably THE most exhilarating interview of your entire career!

[mattsundaes]

Soshiro Hoshina with color black please!

soshiro hoshina x f!reader

c: 18+, smut, edging, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), squirting

“Hope ya weren’t this wet during training.”

Soshiro’s hair hangs messily in his face as he stares down at you, canines glinting against his lip as he grins and curls the slender digit currently stuffed in your cunt, dragging the tip of his finger against your plush, sensitive walls. 

There’s a slick, lewd squelch as he pulls his finger out, only to shove it back in knuckle first, letting it unfurl as your dripping hole greedily flutters with need, your hips rocking into his touch to urge him deeper. 

You don’t bother telling him that you unfortunately were, gritting your teeth for hours in a battle between the incredibly snug fit of your suit and your swollen, aching clit. Which was his fault in the first place, considering he spent the morning between your legs lazily edging you into oblivion (something which was unfortunately interrupted by frantic knocking at the door to his quarters, because when isn’t the Vice-Captain busy). 

Watching him take down a kaiju in an exercise to teach the latest batch of recruits certainly didn’t help either—part of you was convinced he purposely made an entire show of it, if only because you drunkenly waxed poetic to him once how much his fighting style turns you on.

As much as you’d wanted to complain earlier, to tug him back into bed and kiss him senseless and keep the Vice-Captain to yourself for just five more minutes—you know he’s just as pent up, just as eager to pick up where you left off, to see how completely he can make you come undone for him.

You can feel it in the heat of his hand splayed against your hip, of the throbbing erection that brushes against your leg. 

You can taste it in his kiss as he licks his way into your mouth, as he drags his teeth over your bottom lip. 

You can hear it in his gravelly tone as his composure slips when you whimper his name, begging him for more. 

But most of all you can see it in his eyes—the soft, violet shade that gazed at you from the tangle of sheets this morning now blown black with lust, dark and hungry in a way that leaves you shivering with anticipation, nerves coated thick with warm, dripping arousal. 

“Wanna feel you,” you gasp as he inserts another finger, the precum leaking from the tip of his cock smearing against your thigh.

He groans softly as he ruts a little into the friction, and you have half a mind to climb on top of him and sink down onto his cock yourself, dizzy with the need to feel the stretch of him deep inside of you.

“You will,” Soshiro exhales, thumb swiping across your slick clit as he leans in, mouth brushing against yours, “After ya come for me.”

He doesn’t give you time to pout or beg him to fuck you, because any further words die on your lips as he buries his face between your legs and begins to mouth at your soaked cunt, lapping firm, broad strokes down your slit. 

“Soshiro,” you whimper as he pushes your legs further apart, hands kneading the supple globes of your ass as he makes eye contact with you while he laps at your quivering heat. 

“Be a good girl ‘n come for me,” he rasps, plunging two fingers in and out of your pussy as his lips find your clit, his chin stained with your slick arousal. 

You know you’re not imagining the satisfaction that glints in Soshiro’s eyes as you come with a shout, the white-hot pleasure of your climax surging rapidly through your body as clear liquid squirts messily from your cunt.

[jjkamochoso]

Hey Jealousy

Angst, Fluff

Gen Narumi x gn!reader

Request from Wattpad: Gen gets jealous when Soshiro flirts with his crush!; takes place during Chapter 57 :)

Warnings: none

“What’s the big deal? It’s just Third Division.”

You didn’t realize how much of an impact your words had made on your comrades in the First Division until you noticed it had gone completely quiet around you as everyone stared at you in shock.

“Huh? Just Third Division? Don’t ya know they’re our biggest enemies?” Gen Narumi asked you in disbelief.

“Shouldn’t our biggest enemies be the kaiju? If we’re all working to eliminate them, should we really have a rivalry?” you wondered. Your soldiers couldn’t speak a word; they weren’t expecting to hear their beloved platoon leader spout such nonsense!

“It’s because you haven’t met them yet,” Gen told you, slapping a hand to your back. “Once you have the displeasure of talking to the Third Division, you’ll understand why we hate them.”

Well, here you were, standing before some members of the Third Division, and you still couldn’t grasp the hatred between the two Tokyo factions. Gen had invited you along to “greet” (confront) them as they entered your base and as you eyed them from your spot next to Gen, you waited to see what the fuss was all about.

“Hoshina!” Gen yelled, stepping up to the Third Division’s vice captain. “Who the hell gave you permission to step into my territory, ay?”

Soshiro looked completely unfazed. “My oh my, what a grand welcome for Captain Narumi to personally greet us.”

The vice captain turned his attention to you, his eyes looking you up and down before smiling coyly.

“And who might you be?” he asked. “I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you before. I certainly would’ve remembered a stunning face like yours.”

You felt your whole body warm at his obvious flirtation. Gen immediately tensed up beside you, stepping forward once more and slightly shielding your body from Soshiro’s view.

“Who they are is none of your business,” Gen growled, pointing an accusatory finger at a smirking Soshiro. “I suggest you get out of here or I won’t hesitate to throw you out. Personally.”

“I have received permission from the higher ups in the main branch, so don’t mind us,” Soshiro explained.

“Nope, no go. This base is off limits for folks with bowl cuts or fox eyes and you fit under both of those.”

“Oh? Could it be that you’re still holdin’ a grudge?” Soshiro suggested, a playful tone in his voice. “You’re still angry that I beat you in the subjugation exercise ranking for the small monster category?”

Gen fell to his knees in dismay at the reminder of his failure. As you went to comfort him, Soshiro took note of your ranking plastered on your jacket and the worry that was present in your expression as you helped Gen back to his feet. You were treating the captain with more tenderness than expected from a platoon leader to their superior, and vice versa with Gen protecting you with a fervor Soshiro had never witnessed from the childish First Division member, all of which strongly suggested you two harbored some sort of romantic feelings for one another. The violet haired man giggled to himself, knowing his latest way of getting under Gen’s skin was sure to work.

“So, my lovely platoon leader,” Soshiro said, capturing your attention, “what else do you do in your free time besides being this good looking?”

Not used to being so brazenly hit on, you cleared your throat as you struggled to maintain your composure and release the words that were stuck on your tongue.

“Uh, you know, a little bit of this and that. Watch movies, walk around town. That sort of thing.”

“I see. Real date night stuff, yeah?”

“I guess so,” you squeaked, your voice barely heard over the quarreling between the division members next to you.

“Do you have any plans later? Maybe you could give me the grand tour of the base?” Soshiro asked you, flashing his signature fanged grin as he leaned in closer to you. Your heart began racing, unsure of what to say. Vice Captain Hoshina was smiling at you like the Cheshire Cat while Gen was glaring daggers at him.

“I-well, I… don’t know what I’m doing later but-”

“Keep at it, you guys!” Gen interrupted you loudly as he encouraged your comrades to continue their bickering with the other division. “The only record Hoshina broke was the small monsters! Aside from that, I hold the rest of the titles!”

“Gen, wait! I don’t think that’s true!” you warned, but it was too late. Soshiro had already heard him clearly and was gearing up to release the final blow to Gen’s ego.

“Doesn’t Captain Ashiro hold the title for the sniper category?”

Down Gen went, hitting the ground with a thump and splaying out in his defeat. You were about to help him up again when someone gently tapped their finger on your shoulder.

Soshiro was practically batting his eyelashes at you. “Will I ever get a name to go along with such a lovely person?”

“L/n. Y/n L/n,” you answered, looking away shyly. Gen had finally stood back up, fueled by his distaste for Soshiro that was only increasing the more he heard him speak to you. When he spied Soshiro’s hand gripping yours, about to bring it to his lips, that’s when any shred of respect for the man permanently left his body. Seeing red, he marched over to you and forcibly removed Soshiro’s grip on your fingers and then swatted his hand away, leaving Soshiro unsuccessfully hiding his rambunctious laughter.

“I’ve really struck a nerve there!” Soshiro exclaimed, wiping tears from his eyes as he fought to catch his breath between cackles. “I’ve never seen you this worked up! Is someone jealous?”

Gen bared his teeth in anger. “Shut up! I don’t like you! Get out of here imme-”

You were about to ask Gen what the hell his problem was, but you never got the chance, seeing as Vice Captain Hasegawa had shown up and hit Gen over the head with a fan, telling him to be quiet. Hasegawa led Soshiro away to the meeting, the cheeky vice captain not leaving without shooting you a wink. Gen quickly followed suit and you had to wait until their meeting was over to try to get to the bottom of what was going on.

You raced to Gen’s room later that night, itching to find out what had gotten into him earlier that morning. You knocked on the door but heard no answer, prompting you to knock louder and incessantly.

“I know you’re in there.”

“I’m not here.”

You rolled your eyes. “Let me in, Narumi.”

You heard footsteps near the door and he barely opened it, peeking his head out and scowling at you.

“Oh, it’s just Narumi now? Ouch.”

“Mind explaining to me what you were doing this morning?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he said, faking ignorance.

“The whole thing with Hoshina! He was just being nice.”

Gen’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened. “Being nice. Being nice? That’s what you call that?! That guy is… is… he’s a menace! A loser! You wanted me to stand by and do nothing?”

“Yes!” you scoffed. “God forbid someone flirts with me. Is it so bad that he thought I was cute? Is it wrong that I liked the attention that I’ve been missing for so long?”

“You like him?” Gen asked incredulously, his hair flopping around.

“I never said I liked him! I said I liked the attention.”

“You know what, I’m sure Hoshina’s still on base somewhere,” he grumbled. “You can go find him and live your happy little lives together. Just leave me out of it.”

Gen shut the door in your face, leaving you alone in the hallway with your racing thoughts. What was wrong with him? He had always been someone you could count on in any situation and was the person you trusted the most. You had always been his confidant, being able to talk to you about anything—why was he shutting you out completely right now? Why was recieving a tiny amount of affection from another man bothering him so much?

“Gen, please talk to me,” you pleaded through the door. “I don’t want you to be upset with me when I don’t even know what I did.”

No response.

“We’re having this conversation eventually so it’s best if we get it over with now.”

Silence.

“I thought we were friends,” you started to say, but stopped when the door flew open.

“I don’t want to be friends with you, y/n!” he blurted, his face contorted with distress. “I can’t! I can’t do it anymore!”

You were absolutely taken aback. “What? Why?”

“What happens when another guy comes around and you do like him, huh? What am I supposed to do then?”

Gen was running his fingers through his hair nervously and you still had no clue what he was talking about.

“You’re not making any sense-”

“I like you, okay?” he confessed. “I have for so long now. I hate the thought of you being with someone else other than me. It’s pathetic, I know.”

You were at a complete loss for words, not at all expecting that to be the reason for his odd behavior.

“It’s not pathetic at all,” you said quietly. “That whole time Hoshina was saying those things… I was wishing it was you instead.”

Now it was Gen’s turn to be stunned. “Wait, then why did you get mad at me for pulling you away from him?”

“Because I thought I’d never have a chance with you. I figured maybe I could get over my feelings for you if I found someone else. Convinced myself I liked them.” You inhaled deeply. “But I know there’s no one else for me and there never will be. You’re the only person I could possibly want.”

Gen breathed out a sigh of relief. “I feel the same about you.”

You couldn’t help your giddy smile that arose as you studied the handsome man in front of you.

“Now that we got our first fight out of the way, how about we try the whole kiss-and-make-up thing?” you asked, biting your lower lip in anticipation. Gen took you by the waist and pulled you inside his room, closing the door with his foot.

“We can definitely do that,” he murmured with a grin, leaning into you.

[seiishindraws]

Hii, I saw your latest post and your art style is so pretty?? What?? I have a question though. How do you do the paint one? Or rendering in general. Like genuinely, I have a problem with rendering and I can't seem to quite understand it on my own. Do you just start with flat colors? Do you do lineart or colors right after the sketch? Is the "lineart" just added later? Painted over? Erased to give thinner and thicker lines?? I'm really curious!!

hi! im not the best painter tbh! though i do have a background in painting but ill try my best to explain

diff artists have different approaches to how they paint but generally yes, you would start out with big shapes first and then go into the details - work big picture first. like, if you squint and the drawing makes sense in terms of value and colour and shape, youre on the right path.

i can kinda show this with a warmup in-class speedpaint exercise we did a couple weeks ago where we were tasked with painting an eye in about 30 minutes (i was late and only had 20 lol)

luckily ive got the layers for this. i start of with a base layer, kind of like a underpaint layer since that's how i personally learned to paint traditionally. i did have a sketch before laying down this base layer under it but i ended up using it for final rendering details lol

after that i started laying down the big blocks of colour. i wasn't necessarily aiming for complete colour accuracy here, i just wanted to match the value. i chose a pink underlayer to influence my colour choices because the underlayer will peak through the blocks of colour i paint over it

and then (forgive me if this seems like "draw the rest of the owl" in terms of progression) but this is where i started going in with finer detail. i did the rest of the render on the sketch layer i had so you can see some of the lines from the sketch here

here's the layers completely seperate from each other

even for the flat colour version of my character, i had an underpaint layer! i used yellow and orange since i wanted her colours to be warm and used a semi-opaque brush to put her colours in rather than using a completely opaque brush

when i wanted to do the painted version, i put the lineart on multiply and reduced the opacity and brushed in some some quick shadows on seperate layer on hard light mode to give me a good base to start painting with

and then i did all the rendering and details on a new layer ontop of everything. i keep the lineart light so i can paint over it easily and also colour pick from it when i want a more distinct line to seperate certain shapes. i unfortunately dont know how to explain this part because a lot of this is intuitive to me and i'm still learning. but you gotta make use of different types of "edges" in painting, and you would generally have more contrast in the focal point of your painting than in other places to draw the eye to that point. i suggest researching the use of edges in painting if you really wanna learn more - because im a terrible teacher haha

for fun here's what the rendering layer for this one looks like on its own and the finished thing for comparison

there's other things you need to learn too, like bounce light, atmospheric perspective, ambient occlusion... and colour theory is always important! i could go on for a long time. there's a lot of pieces to the puzzle and it may seem overwhelming but there's tons of resources online and it will all become second nature to you as you keep practicing

uhh hope that helps!

[yanderedrabbles]

I just came across your blog and just wanted to say hi, so...hi, hello :) How are you? Hope you're taking care of yourself and hydrating properly!

If you don't mind me asking, is there any advice you can give me as someone who struggles with writer's block and wants to get into the yandere community by writing fics/ocs and stuff?

~ 🐇 (I didn't see that this bunny emoji was taken, but if it is, I'll change it ^^)

Got writer's block? The yanderedrabbles literary agency is here to help - whether you want us to or not.

ooh, writer's block is the worst. Over the years, I've assembled a kit to help me get through it. It includes advice I've picked up from fellow authors, from books on writing, and things I've generally figured out. Specifically catered to my particular brand of procrastination and keyboard related head banging.

Not every step will work for you, but I'd say they're all worth trying!

Step 1: Figure out what's causing the block. Tricky, I know. But there's definitely a reason behind it, and solving the issue means finding the root. Do you feel paralysed by perfection, not wanting to write because you don't want to fail? Is your idea bank running on empty? Do you feel like your work just isn't good enough? Are you tired or burnt out? For most, it's usually a combination of factors. Identify and address issue accordingly.

Step 2: Write badly. No, seriously. Give yourself permission to sit down and write the worst piece of literature to ever grace this good, green earth. Because you know what? You can always fix it later. And at least you'll have something to improve upon, rather than yet another blank document that stares at you like an accusation. This goes for my perfectionists especially. Your first draft is supposed to be awful! That's why it's the first! Just get those words down and fix them later. Will you have to delete huge swathes? Probably. But the stuff you're left with will be worth the effort, I promise you.

Step 3: Randomness as Genesis. This is my go to when the mental treasury cuts funding and my idea bank is on the verge of bankruptcy. There are soooo many ways to go about it.

The first method is to use a random word generator and build off that. It's tricky at first, but as you train yourself to think like a writer, you'll find ideas coming from even the most mundane things. Here are some examples:

"Hairdresser?" Ooh, a small town mystery where the local stylist notices something strange about her latest client. "Scissors?" A goodwill employee comes across a pair of vintage garden sheers that contain a strange power. "Heater?" It's winter and your shoddy old heater has finally given up. There's a blizzard blowing in and no one to turn to for help besides your mysterious and reclusive neighbour.

In the same vein, use a random title generator and base your story off that. [Or as it's more commonly known, the Val Lewton method].

The third option is a template. I usually create about three to five categories - character type, conflict, setting, genre - and list as many things I can think of. And then, I use a number generator to randomly choose one or two ideas from each category.

In practice, I end up with prompts like "captain of the guard, age gap, fantasy, revenge." It's up to me to come up with a story based off that. And in this case, I did! Those prompts were the basis of my upcoming Yandere Captain of the Guard x Princess Reader fic.

I got this idea from the James Scott Bell Start-A-Plot machine. I can drop both the JSB method and mine if you guys are interested.

Step 4: Freeflow. One of my fave methods. Sit down and write the longest sentence you can manage. Ramble. No punctuation. Let your character monologue as much as they want. It's a writing exercise that I'm particularly fond of to get into a flow state and warm up. Also! It's a great way to get into your character's head and really nail down that sense of voice.

Step 5: Multimedia inspiration. Pinterest boards. Playlists. Your favourite books. Your favourite movies. Fairytales. Take something you love and add a modifier onto it. In the case of yandere cyberpunk fairytales, I decided to take classic fairytales and reinterpret them through a cyberpunk and pulp noir style. But that's barely scratching the surface. Change the time period, change the character types, change the genre. There's no shortage of ideas when you know where to look.

Step 6: Sleep on it! Or better yet, walk it out. Y'know those tiktoks where someone is talking about smashing their daily step count because they were day dreaming? Yep, that's about to be you. We all daydream, and we do it all the time. On commutes, during boring meetings, waiting in line. The key is to note down all those day dreams and turn them into stories. No matter how over the top or self indulgent, they're worth keeping.

Writers obsess over their work. I cannot tell you how many times I read over a fic before I even think of publishing it. That's great for editing, but when you've been over the same piece of media half a dozen times, it starts to loose its magic. When your work feels like the ugliest piece of text to ever exist, more often than not it's the fatigue talking. I suggest letting your work sit for a little while before reviewing/editing. Coming in with fresh eyes changes so much. You'll be surprised by how different your work feels once you've let it breathe a little.

Step 7: Do something light to push through it. This right here is the real secret sauce. I think a lot of writer's block comes from the fear of failure. What if I suck? What if I'm the worst author since the guy who wrote about space zebras with lazer guns?

Especially when you're working on something that you've already put a ton of effort into. There's this innate desire to succeed that becomes paralysing.

The solution to that is to step away and work on something fun and easy and low stakes. Something you're not afraid of messing up. In my case, the yandere movie week reviews are a fun, lighthearted shift away from my regular posting styles. In addition, short drabbles like this and this almost always break me out of my slumps.

Fun and low stakes. It's gets those writing muscles flexing again and before you know it, you're ready to dive back into your magnum opus.

There you have it! The methods I use to break through the writer's block. And just remember, if its your calling, then it will keep calling. Don't beat yourself up for taking time off from writing. That time away might be what finally inspires you and sets all the right pieces clicking into place.

Writer's block is a reality for just about everyone who's ever put pen to paper or gorgeous, manicured fingers to keyboard. You aren't alone in wanting to punch the screen until sentences start forming. But we all get through it eventually. Take care of yourself, read what you love and hammer at those keys until they give in. That's all there is to it. Love ya, and happy writing 😘

[joannasteez]

sweet things

pairing: cm punk x black reader warning: filth. me indulging myself. minors dni pls. explicit content blow. authors note: he's gotta stop it with the donuts during the press conference. like i can't deal. word count: 1300 tagging: @333creolelady @harmshake (if and when i write more punk in the future, let me know if you'd like a tag!!!!)

his indulgences are born from bouts of mischief. sweetening his blood after his actions sour another's. doling out his rewards and punishments on the basis of who he thinks worthy of them. and drew tore is fucking arm. delighted in his suffering even. a fire lit in the straightedged superstars eyes thereafter. so he believed this mischief, this little evil to be true. the scottish wrestler deserved every bit of that nasty, tart, sour taste of incompletion. and punk would celebrate with his little show of confectionary treats every time. nonchalance riddling his tone as the cameras recorded and flashed. questions thrown and waved away as he reveled in the taste of victory. because the donuts would always be a show of strength. a teasing performance of indulgence only taken after the exercise of his hatred. a spoil after battle. the tips of his fingers meeting his tongue to suckle and lick the remnants of sugar off his skin. 

but his indulgences never ended. even after the doing away with of cameras and questions. bright lights and the roaring scream of fans chanting his name. his urge to be rewarded for his mischief flowed over, boundless and rushing and possessive. finding himself worthy of reward. 

his tongue, his palate seeking other things. a desperation clinging to his bones evenly as he rushes to make the trip back home. your skin supple and sweet smelling. waiting to be indulged in. 

text message| in coming: im almost to you. be ready please

text message | outgoing: ready for what exactly?

text message | in coming: for me. 

the gentle marriage of silk and lace. a shimmering powdery pink pastel over warm brown skin. something indicative of the sweetest treat. thats what he meant. and his requests were always given so pleasantly, never wanting to taint the air even as revenge sullies his blood. hot tongue slipping into your mouth fast, with a clear cut urgency. lust in his blood pure enough that it fills him to the brim. his movements quick and near brutal. touch on the precipice of nailing into your skin. hungry eyes taking in the beauty of his latest reward. taking a knee into the push carpet as he pulls you to the edge of the bed. hands warm as he goes. digging into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. 

lips wet as they kiss. a hint of a lazy sort of lust as they bleed into the skin. time illusive. slowing for him and his desires. tongue slipping up to lick. nipping with teeth and his fingers kneading. blood sweetened, rushing before it boils headily. light little tremblings flaring up your body, knowing of this sort of touch. the possibility of pleasure enough to spark the beginnings of becoming undone. your fingers taking rooting in his not so slicked back hair. gentle and soothing, an encouraging touch that incites him to run his nose along the lace of your panties. daring teeth pulling, teasing. his grip tightening on your thighs, spreading them. 

he groans. the breath of it dusting over hot. body working to nestle into the sheets as it trembles in the wake of anticipation. a whimper breaking up soft. the tune of it pliant and asking. nails curling into his scalp. the point of his nose running faint over your clit. 

your body working on its lonesome. off the strength of lust and the beautiful ache imbedding its way under your skin. "if he keeps you coming home like this, then maybe i owe drew a thank you". a hiss playing through your teeth and he sinks into the skin. nipping and tugging at your inner thigh enough to feel the threat of pain.

a kiss there at such supple flesh, in the wake of a show of his little grudge. wet and tongue led. a silent punishment and apology. "he's an obsessive little bitch. letting him hear your voice won't do me any favors. it'll just encourage him to fuck with me more". 

you giggle. reveling in the placement of his lips on your skin. fingers pressing over your panties. a firm go against the lace that works to keep the steady rise of your arousal. hips canting forward into the teasing done by your own hand. "obsessed? you flew out the country on some petty shit. i think the feeling is mutual no?" 

a simple truth he can't afford to attest to, you're sure of it. invested too heavily in the pleasure mounting the temperature of your body. a sweet radiating heat that draws him forward. wetting his tongue anew and setting a twitch about his hands. hunger ready to be remedied.

"he deserved it", he cuts out. his lips brushing over your fingers as you sooth against the lace still. anticipation dressing his tone. "let me see you". 

"say please". 

his eyes bold and dilated. peering up and slipping over your face. over the plush of your lips. "please". 

and the reveal aches his teeth. livens his penchant for sweet things once more. your fingers deft as they peel your panties to the side. a slow, ceremonious unveiling. your greed for such consuming attention great as it flows about your skin. touch dipping to collect your arousal. coating prettily along your fingers. sinking in to the heat of your pussy before it retreats to rub against the pulse of your clit. a throbbing little thing of a pearled nub, slick and pink and glistening as it calls to him. calls to the work of his tongue. a moan dripping off your mouth, his eyes bewitched. the heaviness of his gaze pressing in to a suffocating degree. "c'mere", words slipping sweet into the air before it floods his ears. your fingers pushing tenderly into his mouth. touch stroking on his tongue. allowing him the opportunity to taste. 

a little action that only seems to weaken him well. lost and groaning as he savors your fingers. impulse shaping lax and patient. that urgent spirit of mischief broken down to the bone till he falls into something new and subduing. 

the gentle work of your fingers slipping away to trail up the fever of your body. nudging and tweaking at the sore awful ache of your nipples. a heady, intoxicating swim of a sensation rolling about your head. throat singing, drawing out something lovely as it moans, his tongue laying over to lick through your folds. tasting to savor deeper. to indulge. another little spoil after victory. his tongue curling thick as it presses in, deft and working patient. stroking along a heavy clench, arousal collecting messily as it drips and steeps along his palate. 

"fuck me". a thin little cry. a plea that breaks over his skin. fingers impatient, holding your thighs to keep them open for him. for that sugary violence he doles out so easily. your body greedy for release, hips working to form a rhythm against the heat of his mouth. pleasure holding over your bones so good it forces you to tremble. clit aching and desperate for more. "...love how sweet your tongue gets for me...", delicate words passing over the thick air. like kindlings for a fire meant to burn the mantle in his belly. 

your body damp, sticking to the gentle cool sheets. words melting to nothing. reduced to fragile, high pitched chanting phrases. "yesyesyes", and the cutting gasp of a breath before it trails out and draws deeper. coarse and sultry. hips rutting forward. his tongue steady and invasive. a sharp "fuck", cutting up harshly before it dissipates. his lips suckling at your clit. tattooed fingers slipping in to have their fill of feeling how good and tight the clench of your pussy is. a curling, experienced touch that works to give you a delicate stretch. 

the spilling over of his reward. the richness of it tonguing over and sweeping messy. drunk off the headiness of your arousal. off the broken song of your pleasure. skin soft to the touch and smelling sweet still. a perfume staining the skin that encourages the work of his mouth. a performance made to satisfy his penchant for sweet things. 

[dayntee]

Latest Fanfics

Rules: Post the beginning lines of your most recent 10 published fanfics, then attempt to tag 10 people!

Oh my god I was tagged by so many talented people including @opal-apparition, @gefionne, @cursedhaglette, and @tulipathy and I'm mildly freaking out about it what is life.

This might actually end up being very interesting for folks who only know me from the Dragon Age/Solavellan community, because I really only have the one fic - it's just close to breaching 150k in length. In fact, I only have 13 works in total on Ao3, so, uh, buckle up I guess! (I did skip entries that were exercises like profiles/non-prose prompts, in case you notice something missing.)

That Year at Arlathan University (Dragon Age, Solavellan; E) - The vestiges of summer always lingered on just long enough to bleed into the new year at Arlathan University. There was humidity in the air that hadn’t quite cleared and although students were arriving to settle in for their fall semester, classes had not yet begun.

Worst Kept Secrets (Pillars of Eternity, Aloth/F!Watcher; E) - Since the group had returned to The Defiant, Aloth kept replaying the scene repeatedly in his mind. Edér’s panicked face as he realized he may be too late to save Bearn, the resolve and concern on Idralia’s as she reassured they’d chase after the lad, and the relief and genuine gratitude that warmed even the wizard’s oft self-concerned heart.

For the Best (Pillars of Eternity, Aloth/F!Watcher; T) - I've seen the distance in your eyes over these past few days. I know someday soon, you'll find this note on your journeys, long after you've departed, and understand why I never asked you to stay. Truth be told, I knew it was futile. You'll say goodbye in your own way. Consider this mine.

Consequences (Pillars of Eternity, Aloth/F!Watcher; T) - If there was one thing Idralia was fully incapable of doing, it was keeping her big mouth shut. Right now, as she expelled the contents of her stomach over the side of The Defiant a few miles off the coast of Neketaka, sailing as fast as they could to get away from the city, it was a sardonically beneficial trait.

Finding Claudia (Pathfinder RPG, non-romantic OCs; T) - It had been a grueling journey through the hills bordering the Hold of Belkzen and Ustalav. Winston hadn’t been able to shake the half-orc child (for she couldn’t have been older than thirteen, maybe fourteen, years of age) that followed him. After several days of allowing the girl to watch his camp from a distance, he had eventually allowed her to sit at the fire for warmth.

The Kylind Campaign - Epilogue (Original Work, non-romantic OCs; G) - "STOP. NO MORE. THIS ENDS," the violet scaled dragon roared, bleeding a purple-black goo from its eyes. It began to claw viciously at its face, slinging the viscous fluid from its maw. The ooze burned the ground, dissipating, and finally the dragon breathed... a sigh of relief. It sat calmly, taking no further action, hostile or otherwise.

Firsts (Naruto, SasuSaku; T) - The first time they held hands... well, neither could really recall. It happened a lot as genin, but it was nearly always her who initiated the contact. That would come to be common, but holding hands had always been in desperation. In the need to know the other was safe, would be well, and would stay by their side. 

Frigid Nightmares (Pillars of Eternity, Aloth/F!Watcher; T) - A curled, familiar piece of tanned leather suddenly appeared before Idralia’s face. As she gently pushed it aside, the stern glare of Ydwin appeared from behind it, decisively reaching up with her spare hand to adjust her glasses on the bridge of her nose. “Watcher. You’ve had this invitation for weeks. Do you have any intention of investigating its source?”

What Might Have Been (Pillars of Eternity, Aloth!F!Watcher; G) - It hadn't taken Idralia long to recognize how often her eyes would linger on her travel companion. He had been the first to join her on her journey and, although the whole "awakened soul" situation had been unnerving at first, Aloth had become someone to whom she could naturally confide. Iselmyr was still the occasional surprise in her own right, but no one understood the echoing chaos in her head better than Aloth could.

Sarada Week (9/11) - Modern AU Prompt (Boruto, No Pairing; G) - Sarada raised her hand to her face, gently cupping her forehead with her thumb and index finger outstretched.  “Okay. We’ll go over it again, seeing as I don’t get to leave until you get it. Let’s use more round numbers, maybe it’ll be easier that way,” she began jotting down a few more examples before sliding the paper over to the clearly frustrated blonde boy across from her. His blue eyes skimmed over the sheet briefly before he crinkled his nose in distaste.

Kinda wild this almost covers my entire library stretching back to 2018. Clearly I need to write more. Oh no.

Ten to tag (and some of ya'll are gonna be repeats but like 10 is hard ya'll) - @psykergirl, @crittadownunder, @luzial, @chronicsolasapologist, @christinabindon, @postboxrose, @elfbotanist, @ghostfire, @theriothag, @liberaquantobasta-catossa

obviously please ignore if I've somehow confused a fanartist for a writer because I keep confusing people's tumblr and discord names on a daily basis 🥲

[torusdove]

Hi hi mony!! Saw that you're taking requests of making photo collage of favs... If possible could you do Iwaizumi? (￣∇￣)

Hajime had always been the most reliable one out of the bunch—the strong, quiet presence that kept the team grounded when needed. Even after his days as a high-school volleyball player at Aoba Johsai, he hadn't lost that sense of steadiness. Throughout the years, he realised that the need to help people was within his nature, and his love for the sport itself had never died down.

Life had taken him far from the courts of Japan to the United States, where he honed his skills as a sports trainer, working with athletes from around the world. His days were filled with routines—training regimens, injury recovery plans, strength-building exercises. And though he enjoyed the structure of it all, there was a moment in his life when everything shifted, bringing something new: love.

Hajime would've never guessed he would fins someone who could balance his own measured approach to life until he stumbled upon you. In contrary to himself, you lit up the whole room upon entering it: mingling easily within a group of strangers, letting each person feel heard and seen. It was refreshing to see, a reminder that life can be lived in different ways. You brought a sense of ease into his otherwise rigorous schedule, showing him the importance of enjoying the moment, no matter how loud or quiet they were.

Nd now you're sat with him in the middle of your shared living room: watching through the pictures of your latest hike. You can remember so clearly how he had poured your hot mugs of coffee to keep you warm, overlooking the beautiful canyons from the very top.

Life with Hajime was quiet, but rich with meaning: a perfect reflection of himself.

It was the simplicity that Hajime found the greatest happiness in. A love so simple and kind that he never expected to ever experience it.

With the golden band wrapped around your ring finger and a little girl sat on his lap, her big eyes an exact copy of yours, he couldn't wish for anything more.

His love for you was constant, steady, like the way he approached everything in life—though you had managed to pull a more tender side out of him, something he hadn’t realized he needed.

For Haji, life after volleyball was no longer just about chasing victories—it was about cherishing the person who had made every victory a little sweeter.

[awfcstoriesandfics]

Recovery Days- Alessia Russo x Leah Williamson

Part 1-“I’m not sick”

As the days turned into a week, Alessia Russo lay in the hospital bed, the sterile scent of antiseptic mingling with the faint aroma of flowers that Leah had brought from home. With each passing day, she felt the weight of her condition lifting, but the journey to recovery was fraught with unexpected challenges.

Leah remained a constant presence by Alessia’s side, her unwavering support a source of comfort. She spent hours reading to Alessia, sharing stories of their teammates and the latest football news, trying to keep Alessia’s spirits high. Leah would often reminisce about their training sessions, the laughter they shared, and the goals they had set for the upcoming season. “Just think about how amazing it’ll feel to be back out there on the pitch,” Leah would say, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

Yet, as Alessia lay there, frustration bubbled beneath the surface. She was used to being strong, to pushing through pain and fatigue, and now she felt vulnerable and helpless. One afternoon, as Leah fluffed the pillows behind her, Alessia sighed heavily. “I hate this, Leah. I just want to be back on the field.”

“I know, love,” Leah replied softly, brushing a strand of hair away from Alessia’s forehead. “But your body needs time to heal. You’ve been through a lot, and it’s okay to take it slow.”

But Alessia was determined to recover quickly. She began to push herself, wanting to prove she was still the driven athlete her teammates admired. With Leah’s encouragement, she started small, taking deep breaths to strengthen her lungs and slowly working her way up to short walks around the hospital ward. Each step felt like a victory, but it was also exhausting. The fatigue weighed heavily on her, and at times, she would feel lightheaded and weak.

One particularly challenging day, Alessia attempted to walk a little farther down the corridor. Leah walked beside her, holding her arm for support. As they reached the end of the hall, Alessia suddenly felt a wave of dizziness wash over her. “Leah, I don’t feel so good,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Before Leah could respond, Alessia stumbled, her vision blurring. Leah quickly caught her, guiding her back to a nearby chair. “You need to take it easy,” Leah said firmly, concern etched across her face. “You’ve been through a lot, and pushing yourself too hard won’t help.”

Frustrated and embarrassed, Alessia leaned back, closing her eyes. “I just want to be back on the pitch. I feel so… weak.”

“You’re not weak, Alessia. You’re recovering from a serious illness,” Leah replied, her voice softening. “It’s okay to take your time. We’ll get you back out there, but you have to let your body heal first.”

With Leah’s encouragement, Alessia began to focus on her recovery. She started to accept that healing wasn’t just about physical strength; it was about patience and understanding her limits. They established a routine that included gentle stretching exercises, nutritious meals, and plenty of rest. Leah would often join Alessia for light workouts, demonstrating stretches and breathing exercises that would help her regain her strength.

As the weeks went by, Alessia began to feel more like herself again, but the path to recovery was not linear. There were days when she felt invigorated, ready to tackle the world, and other days when the fatigue would hit her like a freight train. During those tougher times, Leah would sit with her, holding her hand and encouraging her to share her feelings. “It’s okay to have bad days, Alessia. Healing takes time,” Leah reassured her, her voice steady and comforting.

One sunny afternoon, Alessia felt a surge of determination. She decided to take a walk in the garden. The fresh air and warm sunlight felt invigorating, and she found herself pushing a little harder, wanting to feel the rush of endorphins. But as she walked, she felt her breath quicken, and soon she was gasping for air. Panic surged through her as she stumbled to a bench, clutching her chest.

“Alessia!” Leah’s voice cut through the haze of her panic as she rushed to her side. “What’s wrong?”

“I… I can’t breathe,” Alessia managed to say, her heart racing. Leah quickly knelt beside her, her eyes filled with worry. “Okay, just focus on me. Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. You’re going to be okay.”

Leah’s calm demeanor helped Alessia regain control. After a few moments, her breathing steadied, but the incident left her shaken. “I thought I was getting better,” Alessia whispered, tears brimming in her eyes. “What if I never recover?”

Leah wrapped her arms around Alessia “Look at me” Leah says firmly and Alessia looks up at her, eyes filled with tears. “We are going to get through this together, I’m here for you every step of the way. I’m never going to leave you and I’m going to make sure you recover, I promise” Leah says as she looks at Alessia with a soft expression. “Thank you Leah” Alessia replies and they make their way back inside and they cuddle up on the sofa, Alessia now prepared for the long recovery journey ahead.

[fafnir19]

I did'nt know if you still took requests but I grew up kind of nerdy. I had a dad that was like that, always into computers and books. As I am now almost 40, I would like to know what my life would have been like had my dad been a bodybuilder or just more athletic.

As you step into the sleek, futuristic VR lab, a tingling excitement fills you. The dimly lit room is filled with humming servers and flashing monitors. Dr. Smith, the head of R&D, greets you with a warm smile. "Welcome. Are you ready to test our latest creation?" You nod eagerly, fumbling with the VR-remote as Dr. Smith explains, "This prototype VR system can simulate alternate timelines based on your past decisions. It's a glimpse into what could have been if you made different choices." As you step into the sleek, futuristic VR chamber, the air hums with anticipation. The prototype VR system gleams with promise, surrounded by a tangle of wires and blinking lights. Your heart races with a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

"Are you ready to begin the simulation?" a voice crackles through the speakers. You nod, swallowing hard, your father's IT prowess echoing in your mind. "What would you change if you could?" the voice whispers in your ear. "Hmm, I wonder how this will turn out," you mumble to yourself, take a deep breath and declare, "I want to change my father from being an IT-nerd to a fitness coach." As the words leave your lips, the room shimmers and shifts before your eyes. The room you find yourself in is eerily familiar yet strangely different. The walls are plastered with posters of modern-day superheroes instead of the old-school bands you used to love. Your gaze falls upon the sleek gaming setup in the corner, a stark contrast to the clunky computer your younger self once had. Your reflection in the mirror reveals a scrawny teenager staring back at you, a stark contrast to your 40-year-old self. The VR system's effects seem so real, yet you're aware it's still the current year.

As you sat in your room, immersed in the virtual reality experience, the door creaked open, and in stepped your father. His appearance had transformed into that of a fitness coach, looking determined and energetic.

He began, "Son, I've found the perfect sport for you." "Sigh... Dad, can we talk about this? I've tried so many sports already, and they're just not my thing," you countered, a hint of frustration creeping into your voice. Your father, now fixated on his newfound passion for fitness, insisted, "But you haven't tried cycling yet! It's the perfect blend of exercise and fun. You'll love it, I promise." Frustration turned to exasperation as you realized he wasn't going to back down. "Dad, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I'm just not as sporty as you. Can't we find something else to do this summer?" His brow furrowed, and with a determined gleam in his eye, he declared, "No arguments this time, son. You're going to that cyclist's camp for the summer, and that's final." You let out a defeated groan, knowing it was futile to fight against his newfound fitness obsession. Reluctantly, you mumbled, "Fine, I'll go to the cyclist's camp. But I'm not promising I'll enjoy it." Your father nodded, satisfied with your acceptance, and left the room, leaving you to contemplate the summer ahead filled with cycling adventures.

Some weeks later you find yourself among picturesque mountains in the hated cycling camp. You pedaled hard on the race bike, feeling the strain in your muscles as you tried to keep up with the rest of the cyclists in the camp, but to no avail.

You were feeling the strain in your muscles and the sweat running down your back, as the coach approached you. "Hey, I've got something for you," he said, handing you a pair of sleek glasses.

You put them on, and suddenly the world around you shifts, numbers and data streaming across your vision. Your speed and heart rate, along with the optimal pace and cadence – all displayed in glowing letters.

The information overwhelming you at first. You let out a frustrated scream, "What is this? I can't see anything with all this data in my face!" The coach chuckled, "Just give it a chance. Focus on the line, that's all you need to see." Despite your initial resistance, you forced yourself to concentrate on the slim line that appeared amidst the sea of statistics. It was the perfect course, guiding you through the twists and turns of the cycling track. As you continue riding, the glasses gradually limit your view of the environment until all you can see is the slim line indicating the optimal course. Finally the environment fades away completely, leaving you with only the essential data.

You panic at first, feeling disoriented without being able to see your surroundings and so you couldn't help but protest, "I can't see anything else! How am I supposed to ride like this?" The coach's voice was stern, "Trust the glasses, trust the process. It will help you focus and improve your skills." Reluctantly, you continued to ride, adjusting to the restricted vision. It was frustrating at first, but gradually, you felt your mind quieting down, focusing solely on the slim line in front of you. It was strangely calming, allowing you to block out distractions and concentrate solely on the ride. As days turned into weeks, you found yourself improving dramatically. Your movements were smoother, your reactions quicker. The coach nodded in approval, watching as you navigated the course with precision. Despite the progress, you couldn't deny that you still didn't enjoy sports.

One day, as you pedaled through another successful training session, you felt an unfamiliar sensation stirring within you. Arousal. At first, it was a mere flicker, but soon it blazed through your veins, igniting a fire you never knew existed. Your body reacted without your consent, your member throbbing insistently within the confines of your tight cycling suit, creating a visible bulge that couldn't be ignored. Just as you were lost in this strange mix of pleasure and confusion, the VR system abruptly announced, "Ending VR-Test; leave VR experience or stay to turn VR into reality. VR conversion to reality starts soon." At that very moment, your glasses projected a command to accelerate your speed and cadence on the bike, a directive you found impossible to resist. You obeyed, feeling the rush of the wind against your face as your pleasure heightened with each passing moment. Faster and faster you rode, your body responding eagerly to the physical exertion. Your arousal peaked, your cock growing so hard it felt almost painful. And then, in a climax of both pleasure and exhaustion, you finally succumbed, falling from the bike in a euphoric daze. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, a sense of both satisfaction and confusion washing over you. "Conversion VR to reality completed in 3 ... 2 ... 1," the VR system announces, jolting you back to reality. Panic sets in as you desperately try to end the experience, but it's too late. The VR remote dissolved into thin air, leaving you trapped in your teenage-self in this new, perplexing reality.

As you lay there, grappling with your newfound circumstances, the coach approached with a knowing smile. His gaze fell upon the cum-stained cycling suit, a clear indicator of the glasses' influence on your desires. "The brainwashing glasses have obviously done their task," he remarks, his tone laced with amusement. "Your body's desire is now intertwined with cycling. You'll become a pro cyclist in no time." Still grappling with the bizarre turn of events, you reluctantly nodded in agreement. What choice did you have in this altered reality?

With a gentle yet firm tone, the coach suggested, "You might want to consider shaving your body hair. It could make you faster on the bike, you know." Feeling overwhelmed by the abrupt changes thrust upon you, you hesitantly agreed and made your way to the shower after the grueling training session.

As you attempted to shave yourself, the unfamiliarity of the task led to a few accidental cuts with the razor. Suddenly, a fellow cyclist appeared by your side, offering a helping hand. His touch was surprisingly gentle as he took over the task of shaving you, his skilled hands gliding smoothly over your skin. The sensation of the razor against your inner thighs and pubic area triggered an unexpected reaction. A rush of arousal surged through you, causing a noticeable reaction in your groin. Embarrassment flushed your cheeks as you struggled to contain your body's instinctual response. The other cyclist, noticing your discomfort, reassured you in a calm voice, "Getting a boner is a completely natural reaction, especially in a situation like this. And besides, you're rather cute." His words were oddly comforting, easing some of the tension that had coiled within you. Before you could fully process his kindness, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. Surprised yet strangely intrigued by the unexpected gesture, you couldn't help but entertain the fleeting thought, "Maybe my new life isn't that bad after all." Meanwhile, the coach, who had been observing the scene unfold, couldn't help but smirk at the dynamics taking shape within the team. "The side effect of the glasses, turning the boys bi, certainly creates an interesting new dynamic, wouldn't you say?" he mused, his eyes glinting with amusement at the unfolding changes in the team's dynamics.

Enjoy the ride of your new life, cyclist!