#longest part of all

[kiruamon]

Grey World AU - Visit from the Moon 3

Aaaand the ninth part of this AU. Things are slowly calming down...

Finally done it. A week later than I thought. But with this we have finished Moon's "little visit".:D

[mimimar]

finally completed my comic based on the song ivy by taylor swift!✿ please zoom in to read the text and see the details~

✿.✿.✿

you can get the digital zine pdf here! it includes extras like character profiles, costume design, more art of willow and ivy, zine-exclusive sketches and an illustrated guide to the symbolism of all the flowers in this comic.

you can also get prints of individual pages here!

✿.✿.✿

[ruporas]

kisses of affirmation (ID in alt)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Thank you all for an incredible 500 days of love and support. I offer you: answers to questions that no one has asked.

(As always, more can be found in the tags <3)

[bigchumpus]

Grian doodles ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

[thesunisatangerine]

against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part four

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: explicit sexual content

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 4.3k

It didn’t stop after the first and it sure didn’t stop after the third, either. 

Depending on her schedule, you saw Alexia once or twice at most a week; most of the time it was on the night after a Barcelona match and by the next morning, she’d be gone before you even woke up. But you’d noticed her visits had been increasing in frequency lately, not to mention that sometimes she’d still be in bed when you awakened. The first time you found her still asleep beside you, you were dumbfounded, thinking it was a dream image of her in front of you. And what amazed you even further was that it kept happening.

It wasn’t an unpleasant development. In fact, it was something you gratefully welcomed. And it wasn’t just that, either. Sometimes when Alexia came over, you didn’t even have sex you just… talked: about her training and her health, her teammates’ shenanigans–and hers, of course–her family and bits of her personal life. Meanwhile you told her about places you explored and showed her photos of where you’d been. Then she’d tell you about places you could check out, food to try, and even went ahead and promised to take you to some of the places herself when she had the opportunity.

These times were rare, sure, but you found yourself enjoying her company more and more to the point you noticed yourself craving for it–found yourself missing her presence despite your constant back-and-forth messages. And still you didn’t ask where this was going for fear of ruining whatever the two of you had; you were content and you just simply wanted to watch this unfold as it was. And anyway, it wasn’t like you weren’t used to fleeting relationships, situationships–whatever you’d like to call it–because who was to say this wouldn’t end up like your previous dalliances–ending before it could ever truly begin? Despite you hoping otherwise, a large part of you already convinced yourself that this wouldn’t be anything different: just another highlight to your getaway vacation that you’d look fondly back on a few years down the line.

You had a month left in Barcelona, maybe an additional few weeks depending on the client. What could possibly go wrong?

———

A knock took your attention from your work to the door. You looked at the time–it was early evening on a Saturday and you weren’t expecting anyone. Perhaps you just imagined it? But then it came again not a minute later. You were reluctant to open it seeing as it was already dark but a ping from your phone that signalled a message from Alexia asking if you were home had you flying to the door. 

Upon opening it, you found Alexia there with Nala resting in the crook of her arm, phone in hand, and a paper bag in the other. 

“Took you long enough.” Alexia said playfully, all cool and confident but then her brows quirked upwards almost sheepishly as she said in a more tamed tone, “is this a bad time? I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

You smiled at her consideration before you ushered her in. “No, no! It’s fine, really! Come on in. Sorry, I just wasn’t comfortable opening the door when it’s dark without knowing who it was.”

“Ah, it’s my bad. I should’ve let you know before dropping by.” She bent down and let Nala loose before she untied her shoes and left them by the door. Nala bounded to the living charged with curiosity, nose to the ground, tail wagging as she carefully examined the new space. 

Alexia regarded her dog with an amused expression before she looked back at you. “I meant to bring this over after the game tomorrow but I saw the lights as I drove past so… here I am, I guess.”

You reassured her again as you locked the door behind her and you watched as she made her way to the kitchen. As you passed through the archway to the kitchen room, Alexia already situated herself by the counter taking out glass canisters from the paper bag she brought. When she took the lids off, a delicious aroma instantly filled the air, enticing your senses.

“What do you have there?” You asked as you leaned on the opposite side of the counter.

Alexia smiled at the eagerness in your tone and pride shone in her eyes as she spoke, “only the best fideuà and esqueixada in the world. Made special by my mother, of course.”

You peered into the containers and the sight made your mouth water instantly. As if it remembered that you hadn’t had any food yet, your stomach grumbled obnoxiously. Alexia definitely heard it because she fixed you with an amused smile and at that, your cheeks warmed so you tried to divert her attention. “You know what would put this all together?” 

“What?”

“Wine or champagne. Wait–are you allowed to drink?”

“I’m allowed since I’m still not qualified to play yet.” Her visage became somber for a moment–it fleeted so quickly you almost didn’t catch it–before the light in them returned again. “If you have it, white wine is the best complement for this.”

You hummed and tapped your chin, turning to make your way to the cellar. “I’ll have a look. I’m sure Derek has some wine stored in here somewhere.”

You’d mumbled the last part but it seemed Alexia’d caught it because she asked, “who’s Derek?”

Something odd in her tone stopped you and made you look back at her. Her face was unreadable, almost too neutral. She didn’t think Derek was your boyfriend, did she?

“Oh, Derek’s my brother. He hasn’t been here for a while but he owns this house.”

“Ah, I see,” Alexia cleared her throat, looking away and you could just see a hint of redness in her cheeks. “Well, I’ll lay out the plates. I suppose they’re just in...?”

“The bottom drawer to your right and the utensils are in the upper one.” You instructed as you continued towards the cellar.

“Oh, yeah, I see,” came Alexia’s muffled response. 

When you returned with the bottle of white wine, you found that Alexia managed to locate the glasswares by herself and were drying them with a tea towel. There was only one set of plate and utensils laid out though so you fixed her with a confused look.

“You’re not going to eat?”

Alexia shook her head. “I already had my fill with my family earlier. I’ll take the drink, though.”

“That’s nice that you visited your family today. How are they?” You sat at one of the high chairs by the counter, popped the wine open and poured each of you a glass. You noticed that Alexia’d heated up the fideuà for you from the steam that rose from its container which strengthened its aroma and made it all the more enticing. Alexia remained opposite you but she was close enough with her leaning forward on her elbows, her glass of wine in hand.

She sipped her wine and told you they were well, described little snippets of what’s been happening in her family life. She even told you about a prank she recently played on her sister, one that nearly made you choke on your wine. 

You listened as she talked, liking the way her brows quirked and her shoulders move as she spoke, how each gesture became more pronounced the more passionate or interested she was on a subject. You asked questions and engaged with the conversation every now and again as you savoured the rich taste of the pasta and the freshness of the salad. You’d never had anything like it and you told her as much. In response, she said she’d give the compliment to her mother when she saw her next which made your cheeks warm up again. Once you finished, you tidied up and though you insisted she didn’t have to, Alexia helped you wash up anyway. 

Afterwards, the both of you ended up in the living room with your glasses of wine. She gestured at your laptop on the couch with her glass.

“Work?”

“Yeah. Just double checking if I missed anything important and preparing for the match tomorrow.” You sat on the couch and put the laptop on your lap. Alexia opted to sit on the carpet, legs stretched and crossed, back leaned back against the couch, her head just beside your legs as Nala settled by her side.

She turned her head, looking up at you. “Can I see?”

You turned your laptop so she could see better. You flicked through the photos you were sorting through, explaining to her every now and then the thought process behind each shot. On some photos, Alexia asked you to pause so she could soak them in.

“These are great. You have a great eye.” Alexia complimented with an appraising nod as you got to the end. You thanked her as you pulled back. Then a question came to mind.

“Do you ever get used to it? The cameras, I mean.”

A pause.

“I’m not and I don’t think I ever will. I’m more comfortable with it now but if it’s possible to avoid, I’d do it. I know it’s a part of football and god knows how much more exposure women’s football needs,” Alexia released a heavy sigh, “but sometimes it just gets too much, you know? I mean, I really should be grateful, right? To have gotten to this point? But the media side of it is… not without its own set of miseries.” 

There was an inflection in her tone upon her admittance–guilt. You gently carded your fingers through her hair, Alexia leaned into your touch in response, and you replied just as softly, “it must’ve been difficult. It still is and for you, especially. And I don’t know if anyone’s told you lately but you have to know: you’ve given so much of yourself already. It’s not a sin to want a little peace, Alexia, and it doesn’t make you ungrateful for wanting it, it just makes you human.” 

Alexia took a deep breathe before she rested her temple against your knee. Then you heard her whisper, “thank you.”

A silence fell upon the both of you after that but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. She remained that way for the majority of the night, head against your knee as she watched a game of football on the TV. 

By the time you finished up your work, it was already late evening and Alexia’d dozed off beside you. You felt bad as you gently woke her up and groggy hazel eyes found yours when you did. The sight made your heart ache from how much Alexia looked younger and more at peace this way, and you told her to wash up so she could stay the night.

And she did.

Now, your cheek felt warm against her chest despite the slight dampness of her borrowed shirt from her hair. Her skin smelt faintly of the soap you were using and with her arm around your waist, you fell asleep content, lulled to a deep slumber by the steady rhythm of her heart.

———

“Hey, please don’t wear that, it’s dirty,” came Alexia’s reprimand from behind you.

You glanced at her reflection in the mirror: Alexia was propped up on the pillows against the headboard, an arm behind her head, nude except for the bundle of sheets that covered one of her thighs, the marks you’d left on her neck and chest last night and this morning generously displayed for you to behold. 

She was nothing short of glorious, you thought, looking relaxed and content like this. 

You turned your attention back to your own reflection: Alexia’s Barcelona jersey draped over your smaller frame and fell just partway down your bare thighs. It felt comfortable against your skin and the fact that it smelt just like Alexia made it feel all the more special.

When you looked at her reflection again, you found her with an affectionate smile, eyes lidded and brows inflected slightly upwards, and suddenly the attention warmed your cheeks.

“But you only wore it for a shoot, right?”

“I mean, yeah, but you know what I mean.”

You hummed, “do you need it?”

“No, I have spares,” she replied before she raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“That means I have time to wash it before I give it back since you insists that it’s dirty.” You said drily as you turned away from the mirror and padded your way to the bed, crawling on the sheets on your knees once you got there.

As soon as you got close enough, Alexia’s hands were immediately on you, guiding you to straddle her lap before she embraced you fully, resting her chin between the valley of your breasts as she looked up at you. You carded your fingers through her hair to see those fair, hazel eyes that never failed to make you shiver.

“I didn’t say you have to hurry. Plus… I kinda like seeing my number on you.” And then she was kissing your neck and you felt one of her hand creeping its way down to cup your ass. You gasped when you felt the heat of her fingers brushing against your core and you buried your own in her hair as she traced a path from your throat to your ear with her tongue, nipping at your lobe when she got there.

“Fuck… Alexia…” You moaned, “you’re insatiable.”

She kissed your shoulder and then she whispered, “only for you.”

———

Something flashed from the corner of your eye followed immediately by a string of whispered curses and a familiar whirring sound. You put your thumb over the line you were just reading so you wouldn’t lose your place before you looked over your bare shoulder to the corner of the room you knew Alexia was who you found, as expected, holding one of your Polaroid cameras. 

She was only wearing a pair of grey sweats which left her torso bare and–like all the time you saw her nude–you couldn’t help but appreciate the soft curves of her breasts and the carved muscles of her stomach. When she met your gaze, she smiled almost sheepishly at you not dissimilar to a child being caught stealing cookies from the jar.

You raised a playful eyebrow at her but instead of answering, she placed her eye over the viewfinder, aimed the camera at you, then pressed the shutter again.

The film came out with a whir and Alexia immediately tucked it into the pocket of her sweats. She then began to make her way towards you and at every other step, she’d stop to take a photo of you, carefully manoeuvring the camera to get the right angle as she did so. It was an endearing sight, really, and it was one that filled your chest full of warmth. 

Eventually, she ended up on you, turning you over on your back as she straddled your waist, leaving you at the mercy of Alexia and her camera. From this position, you couldn’t help but feel extremely vulnerable and exposed not because of your bareness, but because you knew with the way your chest surged with warmth from how Alexia gazed down at you with a satisfied grin, the dimple on her cheek showing as her tongue peeked out between her teeth at the corner of her mouth, seemingly focused on getting the right shot, that this was a woman who had the power to completely and utterly unravel you. 

As a photographer, you were well acquainted with how cameras had the capacity to capture the essence of a moment–to display in raw details the emotions of its subject and freeze them in time, readying them for the dissection and scrutiny of the viewer. You wondered then what Alexia would see written in the shadow, the light, and the colours in the photos she just took of you once she looked at them, and the thought both elated and frightened you. 

Alexia brushed away hair from your temple but as she was about to pull away, you put yours atop of hers and turned your cheek into her palm, looking directly at her behind the camera. You heard her breath catch and then she stuttered out a breath, and the flash barely registered in your mind because you were too focused on the strength and the warmth of Alexia’s hand as you pressed butterfly kisses on the inside of her palm. 

The next thing you knew, the camera was abandoned completely and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out from your throat when you finally felt Alexia’s lips on yours.

———

Alexia sat on one of the high chairs in the kitchen room, hair damp, a game of football on the mounted TV that was left forgotten in place of… something that you couldn’t quite see from this distance. Alexia’s shoulders were hunched over in concentration and you didn’t have the heart to interrupt whatever she was doing so you leaned on the archway, content with just observing her do her work.

“Are you just gonna stand there or would you care to join me?” You rolled your eyes and you didn’t fight the smile that graced your lips. So much for being sneaky–the fact that Alexia was an accomplished footballer who had crazy spatial awareness occasionally slipped your mind.

“Okay, Gwen Stacy, calm down.” Alexia looked over her shoulder then and stuck her tongue out at you, grinning. “How did you even know I was here?”

“Your reflection on the microwave.” She gestured to it with her chin and sure enough from this angle you were instantly visible especially with the white shirt you had on. The dark glossy surface almost made you look like a ghost.

Standing on your toes, you draped yourself over her broad back, arms wrapping loosely around her neck as you peered down. “So, what are we working on?”

“This.” 

A bracelet made of a dark-blue and red string that looped into itself with a singular, small gold diamond-shaped charm right in the middle, a vertical bar at the two corner points of the long edge of the diamond, dangled between Alexia’s fingers. She took your right hand and placed it in your palm so you could look at it: the bracelet was simple but it’s delicate nature made it all the more beautiful and elegant.

“Oh, wow, this is so pretty.” 

“It’s for you.” At that you looked at her, half-afraid that she’d feel the way your heart raced at her words against her back. 

You were so busy trying to find the right thing to say that you didn’t realise that she took the bracelet back until you felt the warmth of her fingers on your palm as she turned your hand over. You watched her as she wrapped it around your wrist, securing the tie. You turned your right wrist over and looked at the delicate bracelet, and something in your heart soared at the small gift. The fact that Alexia made it herself made it all the more special to you.

“Thank you, Alexia. I love it.”

“You’re welcome.”

That night while you were sufficiently warm nestled by Alexia’s side, naked except for the sheets, your head on her chest, a realisation hit you.

“It represents FC Barcelona, isn’t it?”

Alexia hummed in answer, the rumble from the sound a pleasant sensation on your cheek. Then she held your wrist in the space between her thumb and index finger, the width of her palm supporting your hand as she turned your hand just so so the gold of the diamond could catch the light.

“And what else?”

At that, you looked at the bracelet intently. The two bars: one and one–Alexia’s number. So she really was serious when she said she liked seeing her number on you.

You let out a small laugh, then you nuzzled her jaw as you spoke, “you little sneak.”

———

Minding her bad knee, you flipped the both of you over with a strength that even surprised yourself and with how Alexia’s brows raised high, you supposed it took her off guard, too. You settled your weight on her stomach and you bit your lip when you felt her abs tense against your core, and the desire in you blazed into a raging inferno that threatened to burn you inside out.

She grabbed your ass in both hands with a firm grip, making you gasp when her hold made you grind against her stomach, her eyes smouldering as she looked up at you. 

That look was your last straw; you couldn’t stop fighting your desire anymore so you let it swallow you whole. You fell forward, bracing your weight against your elbows as you craned your neck to kiss Alexia, rough and desperate, her lower lip between your teeth. The action rewarded you with a low moan, a delicious sound that shot heat straight down to your core.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Alexia gasped out between your relentless kisses.

“I like being on top,” was your simple answer whispered hotly against her ear, nipping gently at the soft skin there–teasing. 

Then it was your turn to gasp. 

Her fingers dug delightfully into your flesh, kneading your ass roughly before easing them apart with equal force. The harsh treatment caught you by surprise and the effect of it even more unexpected as you immediately melted against her, moaning her name helplessly against the crook of her neck. 

She knew just how to make a mess of you.

“Hmm, do you?” She asked coyly and then proceeded in a deliciously low voice that oozed seduction, smugness, and sex. “Too bad I’m still in control.”

“Fuck.” Your body answered for you in a full-body shiver. Her words turned you on to the brink of falling and you found no purchase as you slipped from the ledge.

It should be embarrassing how you could come without Alexia even fucking you, and it should scare you that she had this much power over your body but in this moment, when her hands were everywhere but your pussy and her filthy words were whispered hotly in your ear, you could care less. So you fell apart, shaking and weak, as you sank on top of Alexia’s firm and soft body, her name barely coherent from the sobs that came out of your lips. Euphoria lit every nerve in your body as you came, the fabric of your underwear latched deliciously on your pussy like a second skin and you were sure that you’d made a mess on Alexia’s bare stomach.

You only realised Alexia had stopped her teasing ministrations until you heard her thick voice through the haze of the afterglow which you barely caught.

“You came.”

It wasn’t a question, really, but you let out a small affirmative moan because what else could you do? You were mush–the intensity of your orgasm caught you off guard and left you floundering that no thoughts formed in your mind, just pure bliss and ecstacy. But as the veil of euphoria began to lift, embarrassment bled into the edges of your consciousness and with it the instinct to apologise. The words were poised at the tip of your tongue when Alexia moaned.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” she breathed out and when you found the strength to lift your head to look at her, her eyes were lidded, pupils blown so wide they were almost all black.

And then she was pulling you in for a kiss, and then the wet heat of her tongue traced the edge of your ear, and she was nipping at your jaw while she dragged her palms from your ass to the side of your ribs. Your skin burnt at her touch and you could do nothing but surrender, to moan and whimper as your heat blazed anew despite having just been swept away.

“But this time, you’re going to come with my fingers in you.”

She didn’t even let the words sink in. Instead she wasted no time to slip her hand between your bodies and to push aside the fabric of your ruined underwear. Usually, Alexia liked to tease you and ease her fingers in you slowly as she sought as much reaction from you as she could, but the slick she found there must had been enough to satisfy her because she pushed two fingers in as soon as she found you. The thickness of her fingers slid in easily and you nearly screamed her name from the pleasure. 

She was relentless in her endeavour to make her words true with the way she gripped your hip steady with her free hand so you didn’t stray too far from her touch when you moved to meet her thrusts, the pace at which she worked her fingers in you left you lightheaded the same way her teeth on your neck worked to drive you insane.

“Alexia, Alexia, Alexia–” You chanted her name like a holy litany, burying your face into her hair that was now slightly damp with sweat and breathed her in: her scent of sun and freshly cut grass, of faint wintergreen, and an essence that was uniquely hers. The moment left you full with something heavy and warm, something that spoke of and hoped for forever, and clarity washed over you: this wasn’t like one of your previous dalliances anymore because you wanted more with her.

The realisation hit you hard, the gravity of it left your mind in a momentary stasis that when you came back to yourself, the shock of your orgasm knocked the breath from your lungs and you felt yourself being pulled by the tide. So strong was it that you could do nothing but pray the flood wouldn’t take you–that Alexia wouldn’t let you drown.

[the-labyrinth-of-me]

Wait did both Alice and Zane record Alan when he was at his lowest point? Didn't Alice make her exhibition to show the world what she sees? To show Alan the truth about himself? That it never was Scratch visiting and terrorizing her, but Alan himself? Did she depict his "self" and Zane depicted his "persona"? The two sides of him that he wishes he can eliminate bc they brought him into trouble (Scratch representing anger and the fallouts with paparazzi and stuff, Zane representing his self-destructive behavior with alcohol and drugs and the party nights)? The both sides that caused his marriage to start falling apart? Was that the reason Zane made that video of Alan when they were on that booze and drug-fueled bender while working on the Return manuscript? Is this party video the companion piece?? Alan's downward spiral, same as Alice's photos? Do they fucking work together aasdffjfjfkfk

[rox-of-iu]

ayoo guess who finally sat down and caught up with cultivate B)

is me. so you know what that means.

spoiler warning for cultivate ch 30-37

there was actually.... more things i wanted to draw but I already did so many I had to physically restrain myself hfsjkkdh anyway yes can you tell i love this fic very much

yet once again. cultivate by the wonderful @neonghostcat

[larsnicklas]

#doitforhim (our beloved wife and boyfriend)

[buwheal]

I wanna give him a blanket. Can it maybe just materialize outta nowhere?

(I know fabric wrinkles suck to draw. You don't gotta 😵)

[starwarsanthropology]

Did a little palette challenge! Had a lot of fun experimenting with style and lighting.

Characters suggested by @grackle-draws @adhd-coyote @mamuzzy and @thivell! Vert is Grackle’s OC, Carmine, Pudding, and Bestie are Coyote’s, and Tomo and Upyours are mine. Thank you all for helping me choose characters and palettes for this I really wouldn’t have been able to get through it otherwise!

Completed sheet under the cut.

[david-talks-sw]

Okay so I watched Inside Man on Netflix. It's interesting. More importantly, it's a masterclass in crafting likeable characters and how the POV we follow in a scene affects the way we see a character. Also, this somehow relates to the Star Wars Prequels, I promise! 😆

The moral of the series is that "everyone is a murderer, all it takes is a good reason and a bad day." The main characters are:

A vicar who - through a huge misunderstanding - has now locked his son's tutor in his basement and doesn't know how to get out of this situation, played by David Tennant.

A convicted murderer and ex-criminal psychology professor who solves crimes from his cell, as he waits for his execution, played by Stanley Tucci.

So a man who locked a woman in his cellar and a guy who murdered his wife. In any other movie, these guys are the villains. Yet, both of these characters are extremely likeable!

This is achieved through how relatably they behave in their relationships (kind, humble, humorous)...

... and through the emotion and/or charisma brought by the actors playing them (it's THE DOCTOR/CROWLEY and Stanley Friggin' Tucci)... but also through the amount of screen time they get.

We're with them for most of the show. There's other characters (the journalist, the trapped tutor and the vicar's wife) and subplots, of course, but they're our two anchors.

So when I'm watching David Tennant lock his son's tutor in his cellar and consider if he should free her - only to see him and his wife make things worse - I'm not thinking "you monster" like I do when I see Buffalo Bill in Silence of the Lambs for example.

No, I'm thinking "goddammit vicar you're making things worse, it'll come back to haunt you, there's still a chance to turn back, please!" I'm rooting for him to make the right choice because I'm seeing him struggle and despair and hesitate throughout many scenes.

When I'm watching Stanley Tucci guiltily say he deserves death, after being so darn charming, humble and in clear possession of a moral compass, my instinct as a viewer isn't to go "he's right".

It's to go "aaaw, no it's fine, everyone makes mistakes."

And these characters remain likeable and/or relatable for a huge chunk of time... until, every once in a while, the show reminds you that, "remember, these guys are criminals."

"One of them's killed his wife then decapitated her, and the other one is contemplating murder, so they did/are doing evil stuff, they're the villains and you shouldn't grow fond of them."

Then it goes back to making you empathize with them again.

It's quite the emotional roller-coaster, very intriguing yet frustrating, which I have to guess is exactly what the show is going for.

But the point is: the amount of time we spend with these characters is partially what elicits this emotional reaction out of us.

If we consider the tutor's character:

For all intents and purposes, we should feel sorry for her, or full-on fucking love her. Objectively-speaking, she's:

smart but obviously scared,

we establish early on that she has a brave heart and stands up for oppressed women,

she thinks she's trapped by a pedophile or a man defending a pedophile, figures he'll inevitably try to murder her, yet manages to stay resourceful, determined and cool-headed despite it all.

She's an absolute superhero.

But that's not how the narrative frames her.

She's framed as an antagonistic force, in the vicar's subplot.

She may be the one tied up in a basement, but she's in control and the vicar is not. She's almost framed as being in a position of power (when she's really not), which leads the audience to view Tenant's vicar as an underdog.

When the vicar is trying to look for alternatives to end this situation so that he doesn't have to kill her, she's unhelpful,

and even starts pitting the vicar and his wife against each other.

Again, in-universe, she's scared shitless and in "fight-or-flight" mode. She's putting up a front because she's just trying to get outta this alive. She's the victim, here, not the vicar who captured her.

But as a viewer, you don't feel that, despite objectively knowing that. Why and how?

Because we barely see this character, compared to Tenant's vicar. So we have more time to grow to feel for him. There's "why".

Also 90% of what we do see of the tutor is her being aggressive, manipulative, sometimes downright merciless and we're seeing her from the POV of the vicar or the vicar's wife. There's "how".

Result: the viewer feels sorry for the captor and frustrated towards the captive.

This isn't a rational reaction, it's an emotional one (the goal of any visual artform being to get an emotional reaction out of the viewer).

Which means the series and Stephen Moffat effectively did their job.

How does this relate to the Prequels?

Well, a lot of people see the Jedi in a negative light in the Prequels, and Anakin in a more sympathetic one.

Even though the Prequels are about how a good man becomes bad, and even though the Jedi embody one of the major Star Wars themes (selflesness) as opposed to Anakin who clearly displays the anti-theme (selfish)... a majority of fans feels more for the latter than the former. Why?

Because the Prequels unintentionally do what Inside Man does purposefully. You react to Anakin like you react to the vicar. You react to the Jedi like you react to the tutor.

Simply put: Anakin has more screen time than the Jedi. And we don't just see him more, we see him struggle, we see him about what he knows to be morally right vs what he really wants, we see him be overtaken by his own fear...

... and just by contrast, that makes him more relatable than the Jedi, who have already overcome their character arcs and mostly all learned to keep their flaws in check.

The narrative doesn't intend to frame them as antagonistic. We do see them talk about how worried they are, we do see them emote.

And if you think about it, it's easy to see why:

their entire way of life is going to crap,

their values are being corrupted as they're forced to fight and die, alongside their clone brothers, in a war they wanted no part of,

they sense that the Force is close to the breaking point and that the galaxy's inhabitants are suffering on the daily.

But, for example, when Mace or Ki-Adi Mundi are shown expressing concern in the Prequels... as worried as they are, in-universe... out-of-universe, their measured reactions doesn't emotionally impact a viewer as much as Anakin's intense ones do.

So a big chunk of the audience will sympathize more with him than them. But like the tutor in Inside Man, the Jedi are objectively the victims and Anakin is objectively an unstable space-nazi who betrayed and destroyed them.

Just because we're not shown these characters be worried beyond just monotonously saying "I'm worried" doesn't mean they're not actually worried as Anakin is in Revenge of the Sith (if not more).

However we don't see it.

Because these three films aren't about the Jedi Order, they're about the Republic and about Anakin and about how each of these two beautiful things were corrupted (by Palpatine and by themselves) into becoming the very thing they stood against.

The Jedi aren't a factor in either of those two themes set up by George Lucas.

They became a factor when fans - who despite not liking the Prequels, still admirably chose to engage with the material - made the Jedi be more important to the narrative of the Prequels by re-framing these films as "The Failure of the Jedi".

Now, should Lucas have recognized that most fans wouldn't give two shits about why a Republic falls or the "matinee serial" format, and would've rather he focused on the Jedi, and developed them accordingly? Probably.

But good luck telling an indie filmmaker with a bunch of money how to tell the story he wants to tell.

Could Lucas have done more with the Prequels to highlight the fact that the Jedi are the underdogs of the story, not Anakin's oppressors? Yes.

But, firstly, he probably didn't think that was a point that needed explaining. And secondly, as he explained at Cannes, in 2002, feature films are a very limiting format to tell a story, especially one of the Prequels' scale. If it doesn't directly contribute to the story you're telling... it's gotta go.

A limited show would've been better to cover every aspect of the Prequels more in detail and avoid confusing the audience re: who they should be rooting for.

Which is why it's interesting, to me, that Stephen Moffat used his limited show to INTENTIONALLY confuse the audience! 😃

[mur-art]

mass buys another dunkin onesie for York and forces it on him so they can match

I had to do it, anon! Hope you enjoy, you MassYork enjoyers!

This is now the third (???) piece in the “States Bothering Their Rivals While Wearing Silly Onesies” Saga. It’s a direct reference/sequel to this one, in which Mass is not at all completely obnoxious about his new Dunkins onesie. /s

Alt text under the cut:

First image:

Mass, wearing a onesie covered in the Dunkin Donuts logo, presents New York with a onesie covered in pictures of donuts.

Mass: “Hey Yorkie, look what I got for you—!”

York: FUCK NO!

(beat)

NO WAY IN HELL IM GONNA WEAR THAT!

Second Image:

10 Minutes Later…

*New York is wearing the onesie (secretly enjoying being warm and cozy)*

Mass: HAHAHA! Get it?? I’m Dunkin’ and you’re donuts!!

York: *thinking* I hate him. I can’t believe this fuckin’ idiot has Harvard…

…and started the Revolution…

[osamusriceballs]

The Accident - Part XVIII

Atsumu x fem reader

Warnings: NSFW!!

Words: ~ 4,9 k

About: Finally! Pure smut, barely plot. Can be skipped if you're uncomfortable with that. The longest part so far xD

Part I II -> Final Part

Your relationship with Atsumu has been thriving.

You came to appreciate that he is actually a very reliable and vivid texter and how you both regularly went on dates- something that he insisted on, and you definitely couldn't complain about that. You know that he has a tight schedule, but that apparently doesn't stop him from inviting you over every single weekend, without exceptions, always making sure that Saturday night belongs to the two of you. Often, you would go to Onigiri Miya's to eat, much to Osamu's delight. He always insists that you don't have to pay, yet you still often place a crumpled 10 bucks note in the tip jar to keep the guilt at bay.

You both have developed a routine of eating out together and then watching a movie at Atsumu's place. He's told you a lot about his work, sometimes complaining about other players, but he seems really confident in his skills, with the start of the Olympics getting closer and closer every single day, which he is anticipating quite a lot.

You'd tell him about your work too, tell him about the things that you like, that you enjoy to read, confessing with reddened cheeks that you sometimes read rather unconventional stories, to which his smug grin had intensified, and he seemed very interested in getting details of that, which you denied at first, but then promised him to send him recommendations. You had also told him how Yachi and you met and how you got to know Hinata and Kageyama. You came to enjoy this caring side of Atsumu, and it feels rather domestic to spend time with him like this, just the two of you talking and having fun.

And more often you'd find yourself in Atsumu's lap after talking for hours, heavily making out with him until you both gasp for air- just like today.

You barely pay any attention to the movie, the sounds only faintly in the background, some action movie that Atsumu found with a good rating and insisted you both watch—and instead, it didn't even take him ten minutes to scoot a bit closer and to gently turn your face towards him to kiss you, deepening the kiss quickly and then pressing your back against the couch. He's now hovering over you, your legs wrapped around his middle and your hands deeply entangled in his hair. You came to notice that he loves when you play with his hair, sometimes even resting his head in your lap just to have you give him a head massage, so you don't hesitate to feel the soft strands in your fingers and scratch his scalp softly.

He groans against your lips when you slightly pull on the strands, and a breathy moan escapes your lips when he grinds his hips against yours. He's hard already. Very much so. You feel his cock pressing against you, just the fabric of his sweats and your panties separating your bodies from each other. Your skirt rode up when Atsumu had forced your legs open to settle in between them, but you don't mind laying under him like this. The tension between you is thick, and you're glad that you're wearing a nice matching set of underwear tonight, even though you're convinced that he couldn't care less about your choice of clothes.

"Gosh, yer driving me crazy." He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, and you swear you could combust at the sight of pure unrestricted lust in his eyes. This is usually what you'd do: make out until you both couldn't take anymore and then fall asleep together while cuddling, without going further. He made it pretty clear that he wants to take this slow and earn your forgiveness for the situation, and while you appreciate his efforts, you'd also appreciate him doing just a bit more with you. "Tsumu—can we... you know... go a bit further?" You ask with bright cheeks, hoping that he's also willing to take that step with you, and he raises a brow in a teasing way, and you almost push him back when you see his sexy smug grin. "Oh? Wifey wants more, huh?" He dips his head, and his lips find your neck, kissing down to your pulse, causing you to release a soft breath while you arch against him, his cock now hardly pressing between your legs. "I would be a bad husband if I deny your wishes."

His kisses get just a bit rougher, his teeth grazing against your skin, and you arch into him when he bites down slightly. "Atsumu—" you try to even out your breath, but you can't seem to calm down when he nibbles on your skin, the feeling almost painfully intimate when he cages you underneath him like this. "We can go a bit further, if ya want to. I could go right here." He shifts his weight and angles his face a bit deeper to press a kiss against your collarbones, leaving a tingling sensation on your skin when he pulls back. "Or right here." His fingers pull down the side of your shirt until you expose even more cleavage to press a sensual kiss at the swell of your breasts. You feel heat rushing through your body, and you softly moan at the action- he's driving you insane.

"How far do you want me to go?" He looks up at you, his eyebrow raised in a silent question while he looks at you. His face is close, so close, you can see his flushed cheeks and widened pupils, and you're certain that you could explode any second when he looks at you like this. "All the way. If you're okay with that?"

You barely manage to finish the sentence before he already starts moving to press your back harder into the couch until you lay flat. A soft gasp leaves your lips, and your eyes widen when he thrusts his hips against yours in the process, the friction so good and welcoming against your sensitive spots. His fingers find the hem of your shirt, and he gently pulls it up until your bra is exposed to his eyes. An almost dangerous glint is in his eyes when his thumbs hook in the cups of your bra and simply pull them down until they rest under your tits and force them to stand up. Your chest heaves heavily, your nipples perky, not only because of the chilly air but definitely because of his undivided attention.

He suddenly brings his thumbs to his lips, one after the other, quickly licking the digits, before his hands cup your tits, his wet thumbs rubbing over your perked nipples, a sensation that has you release a small whimper. His hands start to softly massage your breasts, and you thank all deities for his setter hands, so big and warm and skilled, feeling so good against your bare skin. Your own fingers grab into the cushion below you while you try not to squirm too much—not that you could escape from him now when he's basically straddling you and keeps on playing with your tits.

It feels good—really good, the tingling sensation between your legs growing stronger with each passing second, and you start to wiggle underneath him, your body aching for more of his touch. Atsumu notices the shift in your demeanor and softly pinches your nipples one last time before he moves a bit down, his hands caressing your bare sides while he does so. The way he's treating you makes you almost whine out loud, so soft and tenderly, it's making your head spin. "I love how your skin feels. So soft and warm." He mumbles, his eyes scanning your whole body before he suddenly gets up, just enough to not sit on you anymore. Instead, he kneels between your legs, grabbing your thighs and pushing them apart a bit further to have a good look at your panties. "A matching set?" he asks when his eyes wander back to the bra that still pushes your tits up. "Yes," you nod a bit breathless and flustered, and the way he's taking things so slow makes you feel even more needy for him, while he seems so calm and cool. Probably his year-long experience of keeping his cool every single day when he's playing.

"I like it. But I think these need to go." He nods towards your panties, the sheer material not hiding much actually, but the clear wet stain on them makes the situation even more scandalous. You nod with reddened cheeks, and he places two fingers against the wet stain, caressing and softly rubbing against the spot, while keeping his eyes on your face. "Though, I'm really glad to see that yer enjoyin' this as much as I do." His finger softly presses inside of you, just a little bit with your panties still between you, a shock of electricity rushing though your body when the fabric stretches against your clit, and his finger enters just the tiniest bit inside of you. He stills for a second, watching your reaction for a second, before he brings his other hand to the fabric, hesitating, before he clears his throat before he meets your gaze. "Can I rip 'em?"

You stare at him with wide eyes, unable to form words, understanding that this is something that he wants to do even though he seems slightly embarrassed by it. You're so turned on by the question though that you simply nod, and he brings both of his hands to the fabric and pulls. It takes him two more attempts before the fabric softly rips, his attempt to be gentle and careful to you very clear, and the simple display of his suppressed strength has your pussy clenching around nothing. He scoots slightly back, his eyes focused on your cunt, drinking in the sight of you, while you tremble in anticipation. This is even better than all the fantasies you've had about him so far, all the dirty thoughts about his arms and thighs that made you stick your hands into your panties when you're in need of release. All of that can't compare to what you're feeling right now.

"I'll eat ya out first 'kay? Get ya nice and ready for me." You open your mouth, ready to protest that you're already wet for him and you don't need further prep, and that you just want him to fuck you, but your protest gets stuck in your throat when he settles on his stomach, his arms grabbing your legs and hoisting the above his shoulders. He is on eye-level with your pussy and you suddenly feel so exposed, yet still so safe with him.

"So pretty," he mumbles, and you're not sure if that was even meant for you to hear, and you let out a gasp and a soft choke of his name when he softly licks against your folds. Softly, just testing the waters- and judging by your reaction, his is convinced that he can do more to you. His tongue licks against your folds again, harder this time, putting more pressure on you and you mewl contently. "Just like that, pretty girl. Let me do my thing and enjoy yourself. Part of my husband duties, to keep my wife satisfied."

He kisses against your entrance, resting his lips on yours and letting his tongue peak out just the tiniest to get you a feeling of it, and you clench involuntarily at the feeling of his warm tongue. He licks against your folds again, this time pausing when he reaches your clit, softly closing his lips around it and sucking. "Atsumu-" you gasp with wide eyes, your legs almost caging his head when he sucks a bit rougher. "Shhhhhsh," he hushes you and sucks just a tad bit softer, one of his hands letting go of your leg and moving between your legs too. Your breathing pattern is irregular and you moan when you feel a wave of need rush through your body.

One of his fingers prods against your entrance while he keeps his lips enclosed on your clit and you feel like you're going to explode. It's hot- so, so hot when he softly pushes a digit inside you, his tongue messily licking your clit until your eyes roll back and your back arches off the bed- you can imagine how lewd you look right now. Flushed cheeks, crossed eyes, your tits exposed while you arch your back like you're in heat with Atsumu's head between your legs, licking your cunt while he fingers you open.

It's hot, oh, so hot. The way he's pumping his finger inside of you, slowly adding another one when he feels you easing up for him. The way he's licking up all of your arousal, groaning against you and humping the bed for a bit of friction for himself while he gives you pleasure. The way he's watching you heavy lidded, probably unable to see much of your face, but the occasional glances of your expression are enough for him. He's addicted to your taste, addicted to the way you moan his name, softly at the beginning, but now with more urgency and need, getting louder for him when he increases the pace of his fingers. You didn't know what to do with your hands at first, but now you're gripping his hair and pushing him ever so softly against your pussy, unable to resist the need to get more friction, and he so willingly gives you more. The wet sounds of his fingers pushing into you and the way he's messily eating you out makes you feel like you're in heaven. He could do this for hours, worship your taste and listen to your sweet sounds, but he can feel you clenching repeatedly around his fingers, indicating just how close you are.

"Tsumu- I can't- gonna-" you barely manage to form words, moans and deep breaths hindering you from saying what you want to say, but he simply keeps going at the same pace and you suddenly feel your high overwhelming you.

It's too much. The heat, his face between your legs, the way he's fingering you, the way his tongue is teasing your clit and giving you just the right amount of attention- it takes you like a wave and you feel your muscles tensing and arching against his face while you come. Your mouth is wide open a lewd sounds leave your lips while you feel the delicious sensation rushing through your body. Atsumu doesn't change his position, nor his pace, he simple keeps his ministrations up and licks up your juices until you only whimper softly and your hand falls weakly onto the couch. He kisses your cunt, gentle and caring while he pulls his fingers out, his lips ever so soft while he whispers a praise against your folds, and you feel how you blush at the sudden unexpected sweetness.

Your body finally relaxes and you fall back into the cushions. He slows down his ministrations and looks at his hand with a grin, your slick on them evident. You focus your eyes on him and follow all of his movements when he shortly licks his fingers with a groan before he grabs his shirt, his fingers leaving a mess on the dark fabric before he pulls it over his head and throws it away. You silently ogle him, taking in the sight of him, broad chest heaving heavily, strongly defined shoulders and arms, and the slightest bit of dark hair trailing down to the band of sweatpants. "Ya alright? Wanna go further?" His voice is a bit raspy and his cheeks slightly reddened and it makes your heart beat faster. His hands find your sides and softly caress the skin while he waits for your answer. He's still hard, you can see it through the fabric of his pants, but you're convinced that he would not push you to go further, no matter how painful it is for him. You look at him softly and nod, a small smile on your face when you reach out to him. "Kiss me, please?"

He nods with an approving hum and leans down to kiss you, his weight now settling on your body in a comforting way. Your hands reach for his hair when he kisses you, your body arching up against his when his lips meet yours in a gentle but firm kiss. You allow your hands to wander and to explore his naked body while you return the kiss, your tongue moving against his while you rake your nails softly against his bare back. You can feel a shudder running down his spine and you repeat the motion, only to be rewarded with a little groan against your lips. You let one of your hands roam to his stomach, feeling the muscles clench under your fingers, and hesitantly move further down to the trail of soft hair, waiting for him to either stop you or to encourage you.

Atsumu is quick to raise his hips to allow you to have your way, his hips raising just enough to allow your to move your hand between your bodies. The soft hair on his abdomen tickles the palm of your hand and you let your fingers roam to the hem of his pants, until you feel the bulge. He inhales sharply when you palm him through his pants, his muscles clenching hardly when he finally gets some friction. You softly move your hand, feeling his length, the hardness of him, his balls, heavy and full. He takes a shaky breath, his eyes closing for a second, before he opens them abruptly and leans down to kiss you. His lips are glued to yours, deepening the kiss while he angles his face to push his tongue just a bit rougher against yours. You finally move your hand inside his pants, fingers hesitating for a second at the hem, but then you slide them under the fabric and reach for his cock.

He is big. Big and warm, wet with precum already, and you trace the shape with one of your fingers while your other hand holds his shoulders for support.

You explore his cock, getting a feel of him, how long he is, how he feels against your skin- and you love every single second of it. You softly close your hand around his shaft and start stroking, being rewarded with an airy gasp against your lips. You start jerking him of, moving your hand in a steady rhythm, while making sure that you don't push him too far. "So good," he rasps against your lips and you moan in response, feeling a wave of adrenaline rushing through your body. Your free hand moves to his ass, boldly pulling the fabric down, and clumsily you release his cock after you managed to pull his pants down just enough to have his cock spring free and to poke between your legs.

You only now realize that he is indeed bigger than you thought- just having him pressing himself against your body makes your eyes open widely. He looks at you through half-lidded eyes, observing al of your reactions while he waits for you to make a move, effectively showing you that you're in charge. He just hovers above you and looks at you expectantly.

As if you could stop now. Your body is screaming for him, aching for him and you simply spread your legs further and gently grab his cock, lining him up at your entrance without any more words.

His eyes widen, clearly surprised by you taking the initiative this fast, but he nods and seems to brace himself for what you're about to do. You collect some of your slick with the mushroom head of his cock, making sure he is well-lubricated before you line him up once again. Atsumu suddenly takes in a sharp breath and pushes his hips back, just out of reach for you now- much to your confusion. Did you read the signs wrong? What if he doesn't want to-

"Do ya want me to use a condom? I don't mind, ya just hafta tell me and-" he starts and vaguely gestures towards the bedroom, and you look at him wide eyed.

"Tsumu-" you whisper, your heart swelling with affection, tears almost dwelling in your eyes at his honest expression. "I uhm... I'm assuming that you're clean? i don't mind if you... if you don't use a condom. I use contraceptives." You know that your cheeks are bright red while you keep talking, but the moment just feels so painfully intimate, when you're basically asking him to fuck you raw- it almost feels like love. It makes you vulnerable and you have a hard time looking into his eyes, but he is quick to turn your face towards him, his hand gently cupping your chin, while more of his weight suddenly lasts on you.

He looks at you for a moment, not saying anything, simply studying your face before he presses his lips against yours in a longing and gentle kiss. You return the kiss your hands quickly wrapping around his broad shoulders while you move your lips against his. He pulls back, his eyes so soft while he watches you. "Your trust means a lot to me. I'll make sure to keep it forever."

You're too flustered to say anything, your heart heavily pounding in your chest, so you take that as a cue and line his cock up at your entrance, this time angling your hips a bit, until the head of his cock disappears between your folds and stretches you out. "Please-" you gasp for air when you feel him pushing inside. You see how his gaze turns hazy, your own eyes also unable to focus on the sight of him while he pushes deeper and deeper inside of you, until he's finally bottoming out. His breath is shaky, his facial expression looks like a mixture of shock and pure bliss. "Yer- squeezin' me- so good, fuck," his eyes roll back, his muscles clenching hard while he tries to keep his weight as steady as he can.

You're not any better under him. His cock feels so big inside of you, a stretch that you haven't felt for so long, feeling better like anything you've ever had before. You feel tears dwelling in your eyes- from pleasure and from feeling so close to him, so connected like you're meant to be with each other, and he is quick to notice the change in your expression. "What's wrong?" He seems more focused when he leans down to press kisses to your cheeks, your nose, your lips, gentle while he holds you. "N-nothing. It's just- I'm feeling a lot of things right now- please, Tsumu, I- I just like you so much-" your voice is low and soft, and he lifts his face to look at you, his expression so gentle and kind, you're sure that you'll never forget this moment. "I like ya too. Don't wanna live without ya, y/n. Yer precious to me- in a way I don't think anyone has been precious to me." His confesses, and you feel like your heart is skipping a beat.

He's not confessing his love to you- you've only known each other for a few months, with a rather long pause during the incident, it's too early to talk about love. Yet, you're convinced that he feels the same. That you're both made for each other and will love each other. Unconditionally.

You both don't need more words, and he presses his forehead against yours and looks deeply into your eyes while he starts to move his hips. Your jaw drops and your lips part slightly when he pulls away, his cock almost leaving you completely before he thrusts back in, slowly and controlled, so much that it drives you crazy. You can't even talk and beg him to do it again, yet he still understands what you need, and repeats the motion, thrusting into you nice and slow just how he is convinced that you like it. You moan softly, your breath meeting his lips while he starts setting a pace, sensual and slow, angling his hips slightly different until your hands grab into his shoulders just a bit harder when he hits the spot that makes you see stars. He curses when you clench around him, but he doesn't stop but keeps thrusting just a bit harder.

You don't know how long he keeps on fucking you like this, the pace nice and slow, just like lovers would, both of you enjoying the pleasure of being so, so close to each other, until you can't help but to feel your high approaching. Your legs wrap tighter around his waist, your heels digging into his back while you clench around him, knowing that you're almost there. His facial expression shifts at that sensation and his eyes shoot wide open.

"Fuck- y/n-" he groans and suddenly grabs your hips tighter when he pulls out- completely this time. Your jaw drops at the loss of friction, your hips trying to fight against his grip to bring him to push back into you- fruitlessly.

"Why are you-" you whine, feeling robbed and empty, your body needing him to be closer, needing him to give you something. "Shhh, I got ya." He moves your hips and you understand what he's trying to do, helping him to move your body until you're kneeling in front of him. The new position makes you tremble uncontrollably, and you know that his gaze is focused on your pussy while you nervously shift in his grip. "So, so pretty," he groans and leans down to press a kiss against your ass cheek, and you whimper at the praise.

"My pretty princess, I'll make ya feel so good, 'kay? Just a bit more, can ya wait for me, huh? I'll fill ya up nice and good if ya do." You could come from his dirty talk and his voice alone, your pussy helplessly clenching at the thought of what there is to come, and you loudly moan when he finally pushes inside, the angle so much deeper than before, it makes you see starts and until you tighten around him like a vice. He curses, his hands gripping your ass cheeks hard and spreading them to watch his cock disappear into your wet folds. You meet his thrust, desperate for more friction, and he slams back into you harder, making you slowly lose your mind. Your arms give up and your face lands on the pillow, but you barely notice that, all of your nerves only consisting of the pleasure that Atsumu is giving you.

"Fuck, y/n- can ya cum for me? Can ya do that, pretty princess?" He groans, one of his hands releasing your ass to rub circles on your clit- a little sloppy and uncoordinated at first, but when he finally hits the spot you drool on the bed sheets. "Tsumu- gonna cum- gonna cum for you-" you whine out loudly, and it only spurs him on to move faster until you cry out his name, only able to form this one word while you clench around him and reach your high. You realize that he's cumming to, but he doesn't slow down, his groans turning into an overstimulated whimper while he keeps on fucking you while cumming. He's coming so much inside of you, it's already dripping down your leg before he's even finished, but you enjoy the feeling of the hot sticky liquid on your skin.

You don't know how much time has passed until you finally calm down and simply lose all tension. He softly pulls out and places your hips on the couch before he collapses and flatly lays down on his back next to you. His arms reach out for you, and you allow him to pull you against his sweaty chest. You're sweaty too- something that you only notice now, but he doesn't seem to mind. He's probably used to sweat anyway. His hand starts caressing your hair, and your fingers roam along his chest, feeling the soft flushed skin under your fingers.

"How was it?" His hand still caresses your hair while you lay on his chest, listening contently to the sound of his heartbeat with a smile forming on your lips. "That was... really good," you airily laugh and cuddle closer against his chest, and he wraps his free arm tightly around you, instantly making you feel warmer when your barely clad chest presses against his naked one.

"Just really good? I'll need to work on my stamina, can't have ya sayin' really good only. Wasn't that mind blowing or something like that? Felt mind-blowing to me at least."

You softly snort at his words and look up to him, only to find him looking at you fondly. "Wanna stay over? I'll order some take out and we can finish that movie?" His eyes flicker to the screen, only to see that the movie is basically over. "Or we can start another movie. I think there is a sequel to that."

"Shouldn't we finish the first one before we start the sequel?" You look at him with raised brows, and he laughs softly at your reaction. "You're perfect. Just stay right here." His arm wraps around you, and you feel warmth in your heart,

while you lie in the arms of your husband.

[shokogast]

fuck it *cats your epithet erased*

this was a funny bit turned into Real Actual Project I devoted at least several hours to working out (my brain is fried but i’m glad i managed to still do it somehow!) closeups w/ some cat nerd shit under the cut!

Molly: chocolate smoke tortoiseshell wirehair with folded ears

Phoenica: cream and white van with rexed fur (Fleecy Cloud)

Trixie: black tortoiseshell shorthair with a bobtail (Manx/American Bob)

Giovanni: red silver mackerel tabby with a kinked tail

Sylvie: cream and white classic tabby with curled fur and a bobtail (Japanese Bob) 

Mera: blue colorpoint with low white and folded ears (mutation)

Indus: Giant Aphrodite’s Cat cinnamon classic tabby with low white

Percy: bimetallic (golden + silver) mackerel tabby shorthair

Ramsey: red golden shaded high white Cornish Rex (which is the cat breed closest to a rat as i could get)

Zora: chocolate sunshine torbie longhair

Yoomtah: apricot mackerel tabby with “white” (i took some color liberties you could say)

Naven: caramel lynx point with white gloves, curled ears, and a curled tail

Rick: silver charcoal tabby with rusting and a curled tail

Lorelai: chocolate smoke tortoiseshell with a bobtail (mutation)

[ailendolin]

The latest Community Project by The Longest Johns feat. The Yogscast is out!