#one of those ‘dark edge humor’ types

[missydior]

love letters ౨ৎ

♡: an eternity of silent, mutual yearning and friendship that flourishes into something new when feelings are finally confessed.

notes: charles leclerc/reader, friends to lovers, humour, fluff, confessions.

type: smau & writing ・ fc: lila moss

a/n: my favourite trope ever mwah 🤍🤍 this feels a little messy and stuff but I had a lot of fun writing it and hope you feel the love all over it I have, ily

liked by friendusername, charlesleclerc and 313,983 others

yourusername: hello from the birthday girl here <3 thank you so much for all of the kind messages, wishes & gifts. sending lots of love

3,122 comments

friendusername: happy bday to our favourite girl ever 🍰🫶🏼

yourusername: 🤍🤍🤍

user1: happy birthday to our favourite paddock princessss

charlesleclerc: did you like the cake I bought you then, or?

yourusername: I loved it until you threw half of it in my face

charlesleclerc: it tasted nicer that way

franciscagomes: bday girl !!

yourusername: i love youu

franciscagomes: i love you more 🤍

pierregasly: what about me?

franciscagomes: today is about y/n. shush.

I. Your Birthday.

After hours spent with café au lait and too much maple syrup on pancakes in the morning with gift receiving and wishes, a quiet luncheon with those closest to your heart, enjoying the beauty of the shores and rosé champagne, evening eventually settles in a beautiful colour against the heavens of Monaco.

You have never been one for the dramatics or high attention of crowds, settling on an intimate celebratory affair amongst close friends and family: pretty dresses and glasses of Lavender French '75 or those strawberry daiquiris that Ésme is in love with; a sweet, favourite song heard in the background.

Charles arrives fashionably late, the collar of his white-linen shirt loosened and soft, dark-brunet hair slightly tousled as he comes near, the sight of a smile on his face you've always loved, dimples revealed.

There is a certain relief that comes with being graced by his presence, like you had been silently longing and waiting for his greeting before anybody else's, though you disguise it from any chance of teasing.

"(Y/N)," Your name rolls off his tongue like caramel, accentuated as he shifts to kiss both your cheeks in friendly affection before he chuckles at your expression, "Happy birthday." Mon ange.

"Thank you," You breathe, a laugh falling past your mouth at the sight of him in manifestation, inclining your head when you look at him through your lashes, "I was beginning to think you forgot."

"Forget? Me?" The Monegasque exclaims as though wounded, placing his hand to his chest though the smile about his sun-kissed visage never dissipates, stealing a nearby glass of champagne, "Never. I had some work to finish."

There is an edge of teasing beneath your looks, a dance of butterflies in your stomach when he touches the small of your back fleetingly as he shifts past with that signature wink of his, all friendly and humorous in years of friendship, and yet your heart stutters.

You almost say something else, confessions and thoughts that want to erupt from your chest like love letters you have never sent – certain it is merely the liquor fogging your judgement – but he's wandered away with a final promise before a syllable can come forth.

"Let me get the birthday girl a drink, oui?"

liked by franciscagomes and 311,646 others

yourusername: july with my favourite people <3

mentioned charlesleclerc, friendusername, franciscagomes and two others

1,354 comments

user1: literal angels

user2: second pic is definitely y/n and charles

friendusername: you still owe me another ice cream 🍨

yourusername: sorry bby, i’ll be at your front door with a double vanilla ice cream soon <3

franciscagomes: 🤍🤍

II. At the beach.

Warm light kisses your skin like heavenly delight, a forgotten copy of Paris' Vogue beside where you are currently bathing with a finished strawberry lemonade, long lashes fluttering when you open your eyes to gaze at the skies above in the heat of July, a mosaic of white and cerulean about the Côte d'Azur.

Most of the others have momentarily departed for the nearby café for new sweet treats, though you are consciously aware of a half-dozing Charles Leclerc nearby against the slight flush down the bridge of his nose and eyelashes that ghost about his cheekbones where he is lying.

Pure bliss; perfect heaven.

"Charles?"

It takes him a second, the mention of his name rousing him to blink out of a hazy hint of a dream with the tilt of his chin towards the direction of your voice that calls to him like an angel's symphony, squinting against the haze of light before a lazy, boyish smile reveals his pearlescent teeth, "Mm?"

Shifting upright, consciously trying not to stare at him for too long though you have come to simply welcome and fall used to the sight of his naked chest, all smooth ridges and lean muscle, you absently adjust the ribbons of your pretty bikini and reach for sun cream.

"Do you think you could help me put some on my back, please?" You ask politely, offering him the item whilst shifting on your knees and gathering the edges of your hair over your shoulder that have fallen loose.

He does not respond initially, not until he's sat upright and shifted closer with a kind edge of a smile that dances across his face, "Oui."

Charles does not hesitate or take advantage of the circumstances, applying the fine lotion against the curve of your shoulders with gentle ministrations and lower down, fingertips feather-light, careful not to linger too long.

The act feels oddly intimate as you gaze towards the serene shores, like his touch is meant for the most secret parts of you, an unconscious shiver and the subtle arching of your vertebrae when he traces a particular area. Whether he notices or not, there is no indication given, instead continuing in a method that seems entirely platonic but leaves an ache in your stomach.

"Merci," You tell him once the deed is most finished and he draws away, shifting just enough to offer a look of him from the corner of your eye in a gratuitous smile.

You wonder if how his gaze lingers is the same way yours does, like a painting worth admiring or a flower in emergence, heart thrumming quicker under your sternum before the moment is broken when he clears his throat.

"Of course."

III. A dinner.

Caffè Milano, a quaint but fanciful and warm establishment tucked in the quiet luxuries of Monaco's principality with its dancing chandeliers, oak-varnished furniture and beloved menu.

A semblance of familiarity, pleasantry and polished glasses clinking against the rhythm of conversation amongst friends in the warm afternoon: a lingering aroma of roses from the centrepiece décor neatly arranged and fine cuisine.

"– Non, I am not lying," Pierre is recounting a recent, humorous anecdote of experience, thumb idly tracing the edge of his wine glass whilst you and the others listen on, your cheeks beginning to hurt from how much you have laughed in the recent half-an hour, idly toying with the necklace resting at the hollow of your throat in common fashion.

"You are." Francisca frowns, albeit fondly.

Your concentration is removed from their talk when there is a subtle caress against the ankle bone, a touch beneath the furniture and a fleeting glance from your peripheral sight at the Monégasque beside you, all handsome smiles and that addictive song of laughter whilst a stray hair falls about his eyebrow, though he does not seem to show any degree of deliberation or notice that his shoe idly touches you there.

You have the urge to hold him, caress him, to press a thousand, butterfly kisses along his jaw and say something you should not. Instead, you continue to listen and nurse the last of your Château-Chalon.

1,596 likes

f1gossip: y/n at the grand prix this weekend <3 our paddock princess is back

mentioned yourusername

333 comments

user1: she looks divineee

user2: charles and y/n friends to lovers when?

user3: leave them alone, they’re just friends and have been since childhood

IV. A balcony.

Charles had forgotten his keys somewhere and, until his dear brother could come and return them, you had offered the warmth of your welcomed apartment: all minimalist but homely in décor against a palette of cream, white and the like all complemented by paintings and furniture.

One hour had melted into two by the late afternoon with dusk's slow kiss, hints of lilac and grey in the edge of the skies, your cats curled contently on the plush chaise lounge and resting after endless affections from the Monégasque who seemed to be in love with them.

"Can I join you?"

The voice – honest and clear, albeit a fraction amused – is recognisable as you are drawn out of reverie on the balcony of rocaille motifs, gazing into quiet streets below and the nearby public gardens flourishing with flora, gnawing at your inner cheek as you look to the man where he leans against the threshold, a look in his eye that comes with a subtle indulgence after he stole your favourite bottle of rosé in the kitchenette.

"Of course, yes." Always.

He stands beside you, a few inches apart with his elbow resting against the intricate balustrade when he follows your dreamy stare for a moment, lost in his own thoughts. There is a comfort between the two of you, something you know must come from years of familiarity:

An seemingly endless, innocent youth that manifested in its complications as you aged and neared adolescence, like an evening primrose that flowers and sometimes falls apart, but always returns, even changing with senescence. With age.

You can feel his gaze, almost like an internal, silent imploration for your own, the edges of your fingers and nails polished in a rose quartz-esque varnish that glitters prettily in the evening, and his lips are parted just enough as if wanting to say something before they curve a little higher on the edges, his words hushed.

"Have you ever thought about love?"

Your eyebrows raise a fraction, though it is not so unexpected of a question and one that has been on the edge of your tongue since forever, even with the doubtful inkling that he has merely enjoyed too much wine.

"Sometimes," All of the time. You murmur, a soft, breathless chuckle following as you shrug and tilt your head upwards, gazing above like some wished answer or instruction from the angels or whoever listens, "Why do you ask?"

"Because," His response is delayed, though his answer is sincere and thoughtful like he has been thinking over his words since a time he can't remember until his fingertips touch your elbow fleetingly, "I can't stop thinking about it."

There is a moment, a single fragment, in which you meet his eyes, his touch is known and everything seems to pause like a finished painting, a still image in a history book: his hand, his body and his eyes – the colour of autumn, earth, hints of something else so unique to him.

"Charles, what are you saying?" You laugh softly, looking away momentarily and toying with the knitted wool of your soft cardigan with the kind of feigned indifference that comes with disguising truth, "I didn't think you were a romantic, who has caught your eye?"

For a moment, you wish he would say someone's name, a blessed girl that you have never heard of, so that you can deny your own feelings and settle on the painful reality that you are merely friends.

Instead, his gaze flickers, almost nervously, and a palm cradles the curve of your cheek and jaw with the hesitance of a man of conflicting considerations even when he tries to smile a little. "Please, forgive me."

There is not an instance given to allow any insistence or inquiry as Charles presses a kiss upon your mouth: it is not rushed and there is a desperation there that is not greedy, tasting the remnants of your lipstick and rosé, slow and methodical – longer when you indulge and welcome the feeling.

He does not draw away completely when the feeling ends, his forehead lightly pressed to yours and his touch a little firmer where his fingers curl into your hair, swallowing slowly as his eyes close for a moment until he dares meet your stare once more.

"(Y/N)?"

You smile.

"Je t'aime." There is something in his face you have never seen before, something raw and open like an unfurling rose revealing itself, and you know that your heart is his and his alone.

Another kiss with your prompting, fingertips tracing the soft cotton of his shirt near the shoulder until you drape arms about his shoulders, breathing him in with hints of raspberry, amber and cinnamon, "I love you."

There is poetry in his eyes like those unsent love letters shoved under your pillow, and he delves in, holding you close and intimate until you're most certain, mutually, of the silent yearning you have felt for one another for years.

"C'mere," He mumbles, an arm drawing around the back of your thighs as he picks you up and holds you securely, and you cannot help but laugh in pure, unadulterated glee at his touch and affections, the bottle of rosé abandoned as the night settles in and you are whisked away.

He loves you.

He loves you.

♡ ✧ 。*・.

© missydior

a/n: please don't forget to interact, like, etc. <3

[fabricated-misslieness]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: joel miller x male reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: how a crush looks like when it's mutual between two old men

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1234 (𓁹󠁘◡𓁹)

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: middle school crush type cliche's, suggested makeout session

ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: reader and joel are around the same age, and reader has a collection of records, he also has a beard. written from Ellie's pov. (its unsettling to see pics of joel smiling bc HES NEVER FCKN HAPPY)

☾⋆☆⋆☽

It's silly to see old men acting nervous, especially with Joel around. He's never really nervous, or at least he doesn't show it. What was it, something about life lessons?

Being as old as they are, knees givin' way, calloused hands, joints ain't like they used to be; you've experienced it all. You've experienced that shame of not knowing the answer in math class, tripping over your own feet or misjudging just how slippery freshly mopped floor is; missing a shot, getting nailed in the face by the stock of your own gun, and getting ambushed by a group of clickers. Most of all, you've experienced many rejections.

And yet...it still seems like you're afraid?

That's what Ellie sees, anyway, with the way you look at each other. You're both smiling, it's sweet, sickeningly so, because you're looking down at your own feet and not even seeing those smiles you're sending each other.

"I, uh, 'ppreciate it. Truly." Joel speaks up first, his eyes flitting up from the fresh cup of warm coffee in his hand to your face. Those eyes stay, with courage, on your face, and maybe he doesn't notice that you're not looking up at him because he's admiring you.

"It's, um," Your smile widens, you shake your head, shrug your shoulders lightly like, "it's nothing."

"No, really." Joel puts the cup down. It makes a loud sound in the cricket-silence, thick awkwardness in the room, and it finally brings your eyes up to his. "This-this stuff is real hard to get your hands on 'round here, 'cuz..." He pauses, suddenly self aware of his ramblin'. "well, I'm sure you know why."

You open your mouth, gape for a moment as the words just on your tongue are suddenly replaced by a conscious mind, "Yeah, I know."

Joel picks his cup back up, but he doesn't take a sip. Instead he takes it in both hands, inducing more sweat to slick up his hand for more than one reason now, "How-how'd you get this stuff, anyway?"

"Traded it."

Obviously. Ellie rolls her eyes, How else does one get stuff around here? It dawns on her the second after that killing is the other way.

"What for?" Joel follows up, thumbing at the top edge of the cup, dangerously close to slipping his finger into the dark, scaldingly hot liquid.

There's humor, finally, from your end that eases a bit of the tension. "You do not wanna know."

"I do!" Joel's quick to object, he stands up a little straighter, his smile widens a little more, "I want to know what I owe you." He says it in a way that enunciates each word correctly, like he was serious, and yet the smile on his face is clearly turning his tone rather playful.

"I, well..." You scratch the hairs of your beard, looking away from his eyes nervously, out the kitchen doorway, out the window to the snowing outside. It's clear your intensions teeter on a yes or a no, to tell him or to not, but you stand on what you've previously said, so as to not cause you the trouble of admitting the truth.

Joel places his coffee down again, except it doesn't bring your eyes to his. He scoffs and crosses his arms, shifting his stance in a way that brings him a tiny bit closer to you, and yet he still looks like the standoffish asshole Ellie likes to joke he is. "It can't be that bad."

"It, it is, that bad." You admit on an impulsive thought, which only further feeds his curiosity.

Joel tries at a guess. "What, a gun?"

"Worse."

"Two guns?" He tries again, although on the same object, because to this old man, Ellie thinks, nothing is worse than the slight increase of the possibility that his world's in danger.

"I–" You're teetering, there, again, and Ellie makes a game of guessing what you'll decide. It's a yes this time 'round, she can see it in the way you're beginning to close your eyes, to wince, to prepare for his disappointment. "A record."

"What?!" Joel explodes, almost immediately, because he knows you love those things, that you collect them. You'd give up such a priceless piece of your collection just to give him something he'll consume, something so momentary that it's almost entirely—no, it is not worth it.

"It's–" You open your eyes again, to look at him, moving your hands frantically to ease him. "It's fine, really, a small thing, I barely listen to it."

"You have your records on a cycle, damnit! You put them on a cycle so that you can listen to all of them an equal amount, so nothing goes unappreciated!" It's something so particular, so unnoticeable, that even Ellie didn't know that.

"Joel–"

It's petty, frustratingly so to the spectator, Ellie. It's just a record, and coffee is just coffee; but she's barely sixteen, and she doesn't know the emotional attachments to these things the two of you do.

She doesn't know the bliss Joel finds in coffee, but you do; and she doesn't know the escape that those damn music records are to you, but Joel does.

"I'm sorry." Joel opens his eyes, stops pinching the bridge of his nose. It's an immediate deflation of emotions that Ellie would've liked to laugh at. "That's, a record. It's a lot to you."

"It is," You agree, not downplaying it anymore. Or, well, "it's just–" some low quality band, he stops you with a pointed look.

You look at him, eyes at full attention, accepting defeat and yet the way your eyes...Ellie can see admiration. "You do." And when you say it, it's not in a self-righteous way, but a simple fact.

"I owe you." He says, with finality; he won't take no for an answer.

You stare at each other, just a couple of seconds, no words, nothing about the fact you're starin' at each other, just unspoken, yet still visible appreciation in the look you share.

You two were and are just so caught up with each other that you'd forgotten she was even there at all. She must admit, it's very sweet, but she likes her foods more savory.

"You guys are pathetic." Ellie finally speaks up, a look of evident. played disgust on her face.

There's a snap and a jump and now you're about two feet away from each other again. You're looking away from each other, Joel's eyes are on the floor, yours are to the roof, and it's just so hilarious; and finally, finally, Ellie gets to laugh.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Joel and him are talking again. It's too sweet, the way they avoid looking at each other, well, actually, they can actually keep eye contact now. At least for a couple minutes, anyway. He touches his beard when Joel makes him nervous, and Joel fingers at his jacket like he's pulling a trigger. What are these two, twelve?

—

Maybe they're not just talking now. I saw Joel checking him out, totally indecent behavior you definitely do not want to see from your so-called father figure.

—

I think they just came back from making out. OK. Yeah. They did. It looks like his beard has lost a patch. Figuratively speaking, of course. Joel's hair is messy and his jacket's buttons are all wrong. Gross.

—

Maybe I've warmed up to sweets.

[jokeringcutio]

The Grabber x Female Reader “Just as Dangerous” (Explicit/Smut)

Fandoms: Black Phone |  Pairing: The Grabber (Albert Shaw) x You (F identifying) Reader Rating: Explicit (see all warnings!)

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Consensual Rough play, Chocking/Belt-play, Daddy-kink, older man/younger woman, Reader is a brat, Reader is just as bad, reader wants it badly, Reader is in true control here, (probably more tags but you know what it is just pure filth and you’ve been warned) fucking the Grabber. For @likoplays

Just as Dangerous

The creaking of the heavy basement door signaled his approach and you quietly listened for his footsteps to come down the stairs.

There he was, finally. He’d left you here on your own for a good while. Too long, in your opinion.

The door closed behind him, his presence filling the space with an electric charge. The mask he wore was a grotesque caricature, its exaggerated frown setting a macabre tone for the encounter. His clothes were either to be called outdated or quirky, with flare pants and an unbuttoned jacket above it, revealing a smooth and nearly hairless chest.

You remained on the worn mattress, your coat underneath you for comfort and isolation, your arms resting on your knees as you stared ahead.

Your pulse was a steady drumbeat in your ears.

He came to a halt in front of you, content to just stare at you before he knelt to be at eye level with your seated form. The man then cocked his head inquisitively, left arm resting on his knee as he crouched in front of you.

"Well, sweetheart, it seems you’ve got something to tell me," his voice sounded muffled, but the urgency of his statement was unmistakable.

You met his gaze, or at least the dark eyeholes of the mask, and watched him in silence. How long would it take before he would snap, you wondered. Would he be easy to rile up?

But his gaze was unwavering and the silence between you stretched longer and longer. Seeing how he remained in front of you, unmoving, his gaze full of expectation and heavy upon you, made your skin crawl. He was resilient, you had to give him that.

"I wouldn’t know what," you responded, injecting a note of nonchalance into your words.

He chuckled—a sound devoid of humor. "Well, I don’t think you’re being honest with me.” A click of his tongue as he stretched his arms in front of him. You noticed the glinting of the silver rings on his fingers. No marriage bands, just ornaments.

“In fact,” his voice lowered a notch, “I don’t like girls who don’t tell the truth. They’re naughty.” You could hear the sharp intake of breath, how he started to struggle with it behind his mask, as if he was getting excited by all this. Did the idea of you being a bad girl get him going? It wouldn’t explain why he’d mostly captured boys till now though.

Oh yes, you knew about the missing children in this area. You had no doubt who you were dealing with.

The Grabber.

“And you don’t want to be a naughty girl,” the man in front of you murmured, “do you?”

His words could have been seductive, his voice low and carrying that dangerous edge that always got you going. Even now, you had to squeeze your legs together at the sound of him. But you knew the game he was playing, how he tried to lure you into a punishment.

You had to force back a chuckle when you saw how the devilish mask tilted to one side as he looked at you questioningly again. Like a puppy pleading for an answer. Yet, you knew it was all a game to him. He must be one of those manipulative men then, you thought. Luring you into a false sense of security, playing the good guy, making you doubt your own brain.

You knew the type and decided not to grace him with an answer, not knowing anything that wouldn’t instantly make you a brat in his eyes. Was it a good thing if you talked back? Or would it spell your doom? No matter how much you liked it when men got rough with you, you were keen to survive. You had your own agenda and no time to die.

If he was looking for a good girl he should look elsewhere. You just weren’t the good girl he was hoping you to be.

“Tell me something,” the man now hissed, his voice still obscured by the mask but low and deliciously dangerous. “How did it feel when you got rid of them?”

Oh.

Now that sparked something in your eyes, like fires that started to burn. It became increasingly hard to suppress your smile when he brought it like that, a simple statement nothing more.

“Delicious,” you purred.

The black coals of the mask started to shimmer, a reflection of the look in your own eyes. The Grabber repositioned himself in front of you.

“So you admit it was you,” a dangerous low growl while he rested his hand against the cold concrete floor, like a predator ready to strike its prey.

You feigned ignorance again, well aware of how you had dropped your guard. But you were smaller than him and you could do the cute look. Most men fell for that – if you played your cards right.

“Oh, don’t play innocent with me,” the Grabber instantly rasped when he saw the look you gave him and deduced what you were trying to do. “You’re no innocent lamb.”

A laugh escaped his throat, heartily and raw. It sent shivers of pleasure down your spine. Then he ran a hand over his head, feeling if the hair was all still strapped behind the bands of his mask. Shoulder-length hair, you noted. Either a dark color, or perhaps already starting to turn grey. It was hard to tell in the artificial yellow glow of the basement’s one little bulb.

But the veins on those hands betrayed age and strength. Strong hands with long, thick fingers. You could feel your juices flowing, moist collecting between your folds as an ache appeared between your legs. Gosh, you were feeling empty.

“I noticed a few familiar names in your contacts list. Made me curious,” he started, but you could hear the grin in his voice despite the mask hiding his expression. You cocked your head and listened to him, curious about how far he had gone and what he had found – but also hooked on the lowness of his voice. You felt a slight throb inside your core, your nipples growing hard against the fabric of the clothes you were wearing.

“Had to dive in a little deeper,” and the way he said it sparked dark fantasies in you. “Found some more. Some deleted conversations. Others only connected via profiles on sites. It made me think.”

"Did you browse my phone?" you asked, staring at him with what you hoped was as little emotion as possible. “That is incredibly rude.”

"Merely happened to find a few names that sounded familiar," he returned casually, as if discussing the weather rather than the contents of your personal communications.

"Can't say I'm sure what you're on about," you lied smoothly, your mind racing as you tried to gauge how much he knew. But you had an inkling. It didn’t take a genius after all.

"No?" He leaned forward slightly. "Let me show you."

To your surprise, the Grabber fished out his own phone from a back pocket. You had half expected him to either reveal your own confiscated cell phone, or to see some printed newspapers. But he was opening Google and had been looking things up. Your gaze flicked to the screen before you could stop it, just to check, but there were no bars. The signal was dead down here, just like everything else that crossed the threshold into this forsaken basement.

"Look," he said, swiping through the device with a careful finger. The soft glow illuminated his mask, casting shadows that danced across the frown etched into its surface. The headlines he showed you were no surprise – men found dead. Murdered. Each face that scrolled past was a victory, a wrong righted by your hands. But seeing them there, in his possession, felt like a noose tightening around your own neck.

Not that you minded a little choking. Made things more thrilling.

He stopped on an article, the face of the last man you had seen alive staring back at you from the screen. "Not willing to admit it yet?" His voice was low, the words slithering through the cold air between you.

"Admit what?" Your heart hammered, but your voice was steady, cold. "So that you might turn me in? Go ahead. Who's going to believe the Grabber?"

His laugh was a low rumble, circling you like a predator. "Why would I go the cops? I am not gonna risk that, love," he said, his voice a taunt, his eyes behind the eyeholes were fixed on you. “Won’t risk you telling on me.”

"Me?" You tilted your head, feigning confusion, even as your mind spun furiously. "Why would I do something so foolish?"

“It doesn’t matter,” the Grabber said, shrugging as he made himself once again comfortable in front of you. You couldn’t help but notice how behind the mask, his eyes kept drifting toward your bound hands. And your cleavage.

"You thought you’d get out of this alive, darling?”

"Hope dies last," you quipped, your tone laced with venom you didn't feel. "But I suppose you wouldn't know much about that, would you?"

His hand moved faster than your eyes could follow, striking your cheek with a force that whipped your head to the side. The sting of the ring on his finger made the hit all the more special. Pain radiated like spider webs across your face, but it was the moan that slipped from between your lips that seemed to freeze the moment, hanging thick in the stale air.

"Fuck, you're a twisted little cunt if you loved that," he hissed. His voice had somewhat changed, became rougher, coarser, and took on a sinister tone. As if a devil was unleashed within him.

He stood in front of you now, panting rapidly. You could see the rise and fall of his naked chest. The way his belly moved, how you longed for him to strike you again.

"Maybe I am," you taunted, even as the ache bloomed into something darker, something forbidden. “Maybe I am so fucked up, I need a good fucking to set me right.”

For a moment it looked like he was going to hit you again, raising his hand in the air until the light reflected on his ring causing a shimmer. You mentally prepared, got excited about it even, sat up a little straighter. But then he reached for you and you felt his fingers grasp your chin tight, holding it in his hands, squeezing your lips together as he chuckled down at you.

“You want it badly, don’t you?” His voice was dripping with sin, his thumb gently brushing past your lips, fingertip pressing down roughly on your tongue until you tasted salt and grime before he roughly let go. Your head snapped to the side but your eyes were still upon him.

"Why don't you hit me, Daddy?” you said, a grin spreading on your face. “I know we both want it."

Another slap hit your cheek instantly, this time, the ring wasn’t present. Not a backhanded slap but he must have used his palm. Your skin grew red and tingled, and you brought up your bound wrists so that you could brush a hand past the soreness.

"That's all you got? I know you can do better, Daddy." Okay, so perhaps you got a little overexcited. But you just loved to tease.

Another slap, this time harder, and while you moaned he was already upon you, his hands firmly on your shoulders. He pounced, testing your limits, his weight pressing you into the musty mattress. His hands slid from your shoulders to your neck and you felt him press his thumbs into your skin.

"Look at what you do to me," he hissed, his arousal unmistakable against your thigh. His hands were iron bands around your neck. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body betraying you with its own treacherous heat.

“What’s that?” His voice was low but you recognized the tease as his hands took away your airflow completely and only choked noises escaped your lips. He pressed the mask closer to your face, the wood brushed against the sensitive skin of your red cheeks.

“Fuck me, Daddy.”

He sat up a little straighter and you heard the chuckle behind the mask as he put his weight on you with his hips and legs alone, trapping you effectively underneath him. His hard cock pressed against your stomach through the layers of clothing, but he made no effort to hide it, bumped his hips against you so you were made extra aware.

“Aren’t you a little fuck doll for me?”

You thrashed underneath him, trying to nod, but his grip was too tight. Your throat started to feel deliciously sore, just as he let go.

“Beg me for it.”

The way he said it made tingles run down your spine. Your walls clamped down feebly around nothing, so eager for his cock.

“Fuck me, Daddy,” you rasped as you tried to lean up on your elbow and stare the masked man in the eyes. “Now.”

A moment of silence passed as the Grabber stared you down, then he moved up, away from you.

“Not good enough,” he muttered to your irritation, and you instantly sat up, core aching to have this man’s cock inside of you now. You noticed he had started to undo the lower strap of the mask and watched with bated breath how he slowly removed it, the ugly devil’s chin and grin were disposed of, the straps loosely falling to the sides as it hit the concrete floor.

The man removed his belt next, rolling it around one fist until his knuckles turned white and the grin on his face imitated the one you’d seen earlier on the mask.

“Seems like I’ve got to learn the brat a lesson or two about how to suck up to someone.”

He took a step closer to you again and you felt the slick gather between your folds. God, you were wet for this man. How dominating he was, how forceful as his hand curled behind your neck, grasping your skin and forcing you with your head to look up at him.

“Open up,” and you did. You parted your lips and watched as the Grabber spat a big glob of phlegm straight in between your lips, then forced your mouth closed.

“Swallow.”

You made sure your eyes never left his as you did as you were told. The right reaction.

“Hmm, you swallow nicely. Makes me curious…” You felt how he gently rubbed circles with his thumb against your sore cheek, massaging your skin as he seemed to take you in, studying you, before he let go again.

“Stay just like this,” The low rasp came, and you weren’t surprised to see how the man eagerly disposed of his clothes. With hunger, you watched how his erection snapped free from his pants and smacked against his naked belly. His cock throbbed, globs of pre-cum gathered at the slit.

Daringly, you glanced up at him, seeing his smirk as he leered down at you. “Oh, this is no surprise to you, is it, sweetie?”

And then he guided the head of his shaft to your lips. “Open up.”

The salty taste felt like a relief, but it wasn’t enough. You encircled the head of his cock with your lips, sucking greedily and taking pride when he let out a throaty moan. Bobbing your head to take him deeper, you took pleasure in feeling his fingers on your shoulder, fingertips digging deep. It spurred you on, and you only let the cockhead slip from your lips so you could ask for more.

“Hurt me, Daddy.”

Your words set off a new glint in the Grabber’s eyes as his hold on you became more forceful.  With his other hand, he gripped the back of your head, forcing you down on his cock until the head bumped against the back of your throat, going so deep it took your breath away.

He held you there, unable to breathe, while he wrapped something cold and hard against your throat. The belt, you recognized. So he hadn’t put it down?

With a rough movement, he bucked his hips, allowing you a moment to breathe before his belt was around your neck, constricting and guiding your movements. Your hands shot up instinctively to try and loosen it, but you lowered them again when you realized what he was up to and smirked at him instead.

“Na-ah,” he teased you, clearly enjoying the sight of you being choked by his belt and his hard cock. “You’re gonna suck Daddy’s cock and you’re gonna like it, sweetheart.”

And that was exactly what happened, as he gave you no other option but to move along his shaft. It only took a tug at the belt, gripped in his fists, to bring your lips closer to his hips. You felt his hot cock deep inside your mouth, the head bumping the back of your throat a few times before he pushed you back until the head nearly popped from between your lips. But then he tugged the belt again, forcing you closer and spearing you on his cock whilst the belt cut off your airflow.

The process was repeated a few times, with you struggling to take him in and to breathe. Low moans escaped the Grabber’s lips and you felt his hips bump against you while his cock hit the back of your throat, sliding in deep. His juices coated your tongue, pre-cum richly flowing from the tip as he made you hum and gurgle around his hard erection. And then he pressed in so deep that your nostrils were pressed against his pubic hairs, taking in his musky scent while he kept you there for a moment too long, enjoying the feel of your throat working around his cock.

“Hmm, lovely,” he murmured as he finally let go, his hands slipping over your head like a caress, allowing you to breathe again. You slipped from his grip, falling onto your ass, hands still bound, while you struggled to catch your breath. You glowered up at him, pussy all wet and excited, wishing he would just fuck you now.

He seemed to catch your silent wish, licking his lips with the tip of his tongue, pausing while he took himself in his own strong hand. You watched, enchanted, as he tugged at his own cock, hand running up and down his wet shaft a few times. It looked delicious, the way he was teasing his cockhead, pushing and pulling at the slit until new pre-cum bubbled out the top, streaming down the side of his shaft.

“Oh, is the poor pussy sore? Does it to milk my cock?” He teased, but you could tell his balls were heavy and loaded. You could see his cock twitch at the prospect of finally getting into your tight wet heat.

Your eyes turned wide at the suggestion. Apparently, he saw the internal struggle in your eyes, how you craved his cock, as he cooed you mockingly. “If you want me to fuck you, you must beg nicely.”

“Fuck,” you groaned, your bound hands in front of you, fingers digging into your own thighs to keep some form of control in this situation and stabilize yourself. “Fuck you. Stop stalling," you dared, your voice a husky whisper, throat deliciously sore after having deep-throated the Grabber to the full of your capabilities. "Show me what you've got."

"Brat," he spat, but there was a grudging respect in his grip, a recognition of equals in this twisted dance of dominance and desire.

His hands were rough as they seized the fabric of your shirt, ripping it away with a violence that sent shivers down your spine. Each tear echoed in the hollow basement, a symphony of destruction that sang to the darkest part of you.

“Eager, aren’t we?” you taunted, a smirk playing on your lips even as he stripped you bare.

"Shut up," he growled, but there was no malice in his voice – only hunger, raw and unbridled. He grabbed your pants next, yanking them down with an urgency that left you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest like a caged bird desperate for release.

"Can't wait any longer, huh?" you whispered, a challenge laced with desire. Your pulse raced, adrenaline and arousal mingling in a potent cocktail that made the world seem sharper, more vivid.

"Neither can you," he shot back, his eyes locked onto yours. You could feel him, hard and insistent, and you arched your back, inviting him closer.

"Then what are you waiting for old man?" you urged.

With a moan that sounded like it had been torn from the depths of his being, he complied. He sank into you, rough and unyielding, and you gasped at the intensity of it all—pain and pleasure intertwining in a dance as old as time.

Fuck, it felt good. The man’s cock was definitely one of the bigger ones you’d ever had. His thrusts were raw and powerful, the sound of your arousal slickening the way reached your ears while the scent of sex hung heavy in the air.

His hands, strong and large compared to your frame, captured your breasts, wasting no time as he started to fumble with them, roughly knead them, his thumbs ever so often flicking past your nipples until they started to feel sore.

His touch was just right, the balance of pleasure and pain exactly what you needed.

And then, his lips were capturing your nipple, sucking so hard it would surely bruise. You couldn’t withhold another moan as you arched your back, pressing your breasts closer to his face while he tugged with his teeth, biting your nipple before lapping at it with his long wet tongue.

If you had known the Grabber had been like this, you’d have crossed paths with him sooner. Because the man was amazing.

He moved his head to the other side, grey hairs tickling your skin, the cold material of the mask brushing past your naked chest as he repeated his motions with your other nipple, nibbling on it like he was hunger for more of you.

You felt his hips press against yours, felt his cock hit you deep and hard. Your whole body was filled with desire, like hot flames licking inside your core. Your walls pulsed around his cock, begging him to take you deeper, to be rougher.

He was.

His hips moved more brutal, the wet and slick sounds reaching your ears as the hot stench of sex filled your nostrils. He drew his head back, one of your nipples still caught between his teeth, and you watched as he let go. Your nipple deliciously sore and erect as he kept pumping.

You could tell he was gritting his teeth and you tried to move your head closer to his so you could nip at his lips, biting gently until he let out a raw moan.

Deep inside of you, his cock hit that magical spot that made you see stars and you felt your orgasm was near. Just a few more thrust and he would chase you over the peak.

And then he moved angles, hooking one of your legs over his arm so he could hit you deep and hard and you cried out as you reached your peak, walls fluttering around him, milking him for all you were worth.

He didn’t come yet, though.

His thrust were firm as he kept up the pace. A low guttural moan escaped his lips. Your pussy sensitive around him as you came down from your high.

“Thought you were done, love? Think again, doll. I am just getting started.”

You whimpered when he retreated without a warning, his cock slipping from your sopping wet core with shaming ease. You looked up at him, cheeks flushed, still in the afterglow of your orgasm. But then he flipped you over, pushing your chest down on the filthy mattress and forcing your cheek down.

Another cry of pleasure escaped your lips as his cock slid back inside with ease. You felt a hand on your back, gently tapping, as he positioned himself with shallow thrusts. And then there was a rough smack against your ass before he started pounding harshly again, taking no pity on your poor cunt.

You gasped and moaned, trying to support yourself while you felt his hands roam your body, gently brushing past the nape of your neck before roughly squeezing down again.

And when that familiar belt encircled your neck, tightening with each thrust, you did not resist. Instead, you let him maneuver you up to your knees and leaned into the constriction, your breaths coming in short, sharp gasps that fueled the fire within you.

In this angle, he was so deep inside, you could feel all of him inside of you. The hardness of his pulsing cock, the veins and all the ridges.

The loss of oxygen made your body squeeze tight around his pulsing shaft, your pussy clamping down like a vice on his hard cock. You tried to move your hips back, riding him as he rode you.

"Fuck, you really do love this, don't you?" he panted, his grip firm yet calculated, knowing just how far to push before it became too much.

"More," you managed to gasp out, riding the razor's edge between suffocation and ecstasy. His pace quickened, desperation clawing at his movements as he neared the precipice of release.

He was battering you now, your insides hurt so much that it felt so good. You weren’t going to be able to walk straight for days. Just the right kind of rough fuck that you had needed.

The man above you grunted as he buried himself balls deep. You could feel his cock pulsing, his balls tightening as he was close to tipping over the edge, His thrusts became rougher, harder, stroking you even deeper inside while his hands squeezed your breasts hard.

"Going to pull out," he warned, voice ragged with the effort of control. But you wouldn't have it. It wasn’t as if coming inside would have any consequences and so, you gave the command.

"Inside," the word a siren call that shattered his last semblance of restraint. With a guttural groan, he spilled himself within you, the act marking you in ways that went beyond the physical. You felt hotness flood deep into your core, felt how his cock hit you deep inside, balls pressed against you tight. It tipped you over the edge and you came again, not noticing he was squeezing one of your breasts tightly in his hand until you started to slowly come down from your high for the second time.

Had you really just done that? Had you really had one of the best fucks in your life?  

As you both fought to catch your breath, an absurd bubble of laughter escaped your lips, the sound seemingly out of place in the grimness of your surroundings. He joined in, the chuckle muffled against your skin as he rested his forehead—still masked—against your naked shoulder.

"Didn't know I could enjoy something like this," he murmured, almost reflective amid the panting aftermath. His fingers worked quickly, deftly twisting your bounds until they had loosened. You flexed your fingers before you started to rub your wrists to try and get the blood flowing again.

“So,” he started, his voice a low murmur. “Those men…”

“Exes, almost lovers, men who cheated on my friends or were complete assholes.”

Although he was silent, you saw the slight movement of the mask as his chin tilted. So he had to think about that, huh?

“Like a little angel of justice,” he finally said, but you couldn’t tell if it was meant as a compliment or if you had disappointed him with your explanation.

“More like an angel of terror,” you matter-of-factly replied, brushing your hands past your thighs. “Dang, that was a good fuck though. I could get used to that cock of yours.”

A low hum escaped from behind his mask and you saw his hips jerk slightly. He seemed to like the compliment.

"Could keep you," he mused, the words hanging heavy between you. “Would be nice to have someone to share this all with. Talk to. Work together. Blow some steam off once in a while.”

A hum vibrated in your throat, noncommittal yet laced with dark intrigue "Yes," you whispered, the word slicing through the tension. "I could grow to like this... arrangement."

"Then I’ll better keep you alive, won’t I?" His voice was rough with amusement, the complete opposite of the frowning emotion on the mask.

“If you want to do this again,” you said.

He leaned closer to you and for a moment you feared what he was going to do. But when you felt his chapped lips press against your forehead you had to suppress a chuckle, because you had not expected for him to show this much sentiment.

With a push, he slid himself off the mattress. His bare feet sounded on the dirt floor like dull thuds. He turned, reaching for his discarded clothes.

A mistake.

With a grin, you revealed his belt from behind your back where you had kept it hidden while you had talked in the afterglow, the leather cool and smooth in your grip.

Carefully, you slipped from the mattress, naked feet on the floor, trailing after him. He was kneeling to pick up his pants when you, as silent as a ghost, came to stand behind him. He didn’t notice your presence until the belt was looped around his neck, catching him by surprise.

"Well, I really enjoyed our night together,” you said airily, like you hadn’t been his prisoner until a moment ago. “But I really got to be going. There’s a man waiting for me. Can’t disappoint a friend.”

You tightened the belt, the knuckles of your fists turning white by the sheer force while you enjoyed the sounds of him gasping. His hands reached for the belt, fingers unable to wiggle their way in between and relieve the pressure. Too thick, you thought as you watched the man struggle in your grip from above. Nice fingers to feel scissoring your cunt. But nope, you had to store that thought away for another rainy day. Perhaps next time when you visit him, you could get him to do a little foreplay on you.

The fact you even considered returning to this criminal was perhaps telling enough.

“I’m sure you’re clever enough to understand that next time when I come around, we’re gonna be fucking on your bed… or your couch or your kitchen. Any place that is not your creepy little basement.”

Then, you smirked, allowing him a little more space to breathe again. Which reminded you…

“I’m sure you’ll think twice about upsetting me,” your grin grew as you leaned forward, the belt tightening around his throat again while you whispered near his ear.

“Don’t forget,” you breathed, voice a low murmur, “You're only breathing because I allow it."

A serpent's hiss escaped your lips as you rose to your knees. The belt slipped away from his throat, falling to the floor with a clatter. His choked laughter bubbled up, the sound echoing off the concrete walls as you wrenched his phone from his pocket.

"Go ahead, try me," you taunted, the thrill of control sending shivers down your spine.

With a swift push against his chest, you sent him stumbling back. Not waiting to see if he recovered, you picked up your coat so you’d at least have something to cover your nakedness, and ascended the stairs, his laughter chasing you, a mad symphony to accompany your escape.

You stepped out of the basement, coming eye to eye with a large dog. With a grin, you flung the Grabber’s phone aside and onto the kitchen table, the bars finally popping up onto the screen, a freshly sent message illuminating the screen.

“Sit,” you told the dog, ignoring his growling as your eyes caught sight of something much more important. You stepped over to the kitchen counter, globs of sperm dripping down the inside of your leg. The dog seemed to have noticed it and stopped growling, curiously coming closer with his snout to brush past the inside of your leg – probably smelling his own master and being confused by it - while you picked up your own phone from the kitchen counter.

The Grabber’s phone number flashed on your screen and you grinned. You added his number. It would forever be embedded in your list… another name among many.

The man’s laughter still rang in your ears when you left his house, pinning the location on your phone and saving it for later.

Oh, you’d be back. And he’d better not break your heart.

~

AN: Hello lovelies. There's more fics to come, another Grabber one, a bit of Stu Macher. Bit of Afton. You'll see. For more, follow me (:

~~ Support me on Ko-Fi - Masterlist  - Request Box ~~

[majeoeje]

Another glass.

Kamisato Ayato x Fem Reader

You're the greatest love i've ever had. I would never wish to be have an after.

You never thought your blossoming friendship could turn into a cold loveless marriage of convinience... but you could do nothing but accept it. Alas, you'd rather be stuck in this type of marriage with Ayato rather than anyone else.

Ayato was elegant, charming, responsible and of course undeniebly handsome. But those are not the qualities that mold the very foundations of your friendship. He has surprisingly a good sense of humor, cracking you up every chance he could. You supposed that sense of humor brings out the color in his eyes. How it could shine a different shade of blue. That sense of humor of course comes with a side of banter. Back on forth to get the conversation rolling is always good banter, you'd say without even realizing the now changing hues of the sky. And of course last but not least, his compliance. People misjudge him, and think that he is a man that is hard to convinced. But that is entirely untrue! Yes of course it can take you a good while when you ask something of him. But in the end he always says yes...every single time. You wondered if you always wondered if you're getting spoiled from his attention. And maybe that was undeniably true

It was something out of the light novels. Friendship that could last forever and perhaps save a marriage while at it. It was as if 2 treads of fate were intertwining together when you were with him. But you could feel his tread detangling itself from yours once you got married.

What happened?

What changed?

It's as if it he wasn't himself...

Truthfully, you weren't yourself now. The bounds of marriage had left you rather...dull or what you would describe as dusted.

So it wasn't entirely baffling to think Ayato would want to seek out another match. A match that doesn't have to be official, a match that would be exciting. A match that he could love.

"Let's go" someone whispered as Ayato smiled as he so ungracefully escaped the estate carefully, and it's literally through a window.

Though you didn't know how painful seeing it unfold before your very eyes.

As you closed it you catched a glimpse of Ayato through the now tiny gap. The sunlight does illuminate everything, but the moonlight had revealed just enough for you to see. He was with someone, hand held with a joy filled smile laced on the corner of his mouth, as he ran carelessly away from the estate. It was as if he knew no bounds, unlike the reality of your marriage.

Everything had changed.

You finally closed the window fully feeling the cold night air seeping in. The truth, in fact feeling much more colder

A good night rest was what you need, before the dreadful morning would came where you had to pretend to not know your own husband's affair.

You couldn't do it. You can't be selfish. Seeing his smile that night was something that worth more than a millions miles of golden yarn. And to take that away from him and interrogate him would be downright cruel. Because you and your husband were a lot of things, but one thing you weren't were vulnerable.

And so be your endless days of ignorance started.

Some people say that ignorance is bliss, but you would beg to differ. You were usually the type to harbor more secrets than you could tell. But this secret has put you on edge more than once.

Because your husband wasn't as slick as he thought he were. You would notice the dark circles under his eyes.

"Did you not get enough sleep Lord Kamisato?" You'd ask. Some part of you wanted to see him squirm in his seat trying to pull out excuses under his ass. But he doesn't even give you that pleasure, only opting to respond with something along the lines of

"Oh, it's nothing"

You wish to pry. You wanted to see the anguish in his face. You wanted some sort of reaction. Just anything to reconnect with him once more.. you needed him. That need has hung precariously over time, and you wished with your every being it wasn't like that

But you held yourself. Your anger, your frustrasion doesn't mean anything to vent or tell your concerns to anyone is out of the question even to Ayaka or Thoma. A wife should preserve her husband's name, not soil it. it's your own problem and you should deal with it alone.

It has been like that, for months. In fact you had stopped asking him about his suspicious behaviour, afraid your words would spill more than you could afford. And before you noticed it, you and your husband has stopped talking altogether.

The laughter that would fill every room you were with him were gone, the banter, the endless silly request... it had vanished as if you two were never friends

You never thought you'd feel alone when you're with him but here you are.

You sighed as you awoke to the harsh reality. It wasn't morning. But you had developed a habit in which you would wake up in the middle of the night and closed the window that Ayato would carelessly left open. Though tonight you didn't feel like going back to sleep. Walking your limp body to the kitchen in search of your escape. A bottle of sake.

If you can't let anyone know about your sorrows, you might as well wash it away with alcohol. At least the burn at the back of your throat wouldn't hurt you as badly as your cold hearted husband.

"Care to share?" An unexpected voice could be heard from the entrance of the kitchen, catching you off guard. Unfortunately you're already too drunk to safe face

"Ayato.. did i wake you up? *hic* im sorry.." your head was starting to blur, but you could tell that silver blue hair from a mile away.

He sat himself down beside you, pouring himself a cup.

"Your facade doesn't seem to falter even when you're drunk huh?" He says, resting his face on his palm, as he swirls his drink with another

Your head was filled with daze. But that sentence could sober you any time of the day

"You...y- you knew?" You stuttered, the alcohol was getting to you. So maybe not so much as sober you up, maybe just mess you up internally?

"I wasn't trying to hide it." He says, the look on his face felt pitiful to you. But you don't even care, feeling your patience ripping up at once

"I..i know, we agreed t-that we didn't have to be faithful to one another when we got married. But the least you could do was acknowledge me!? Why do you act so... so cold!?" you struggled to put your mind into words, not just because of the alcohol. But because you just weren't used to lashing out on him

It was a mutual agreement. But the idea of him running off with some other person aggravated you more than it should. Maybe it was for the fact that you felt alone. No matter how many times your parents or your friends visit, no matter how many times you go out just to escape. You always felt like there was something missing. You felt like your heart uncomplete. And you felt like the inevitable doom that is your loneliness was inescapeable

"Ayato why did you have to fall in love with someone else?.. why can't you just... be alone with me." You muttered, chugging the whole sake bottle

Why is it that you wanted that outcome so bad. It's as if you couldn't think of another happy ending than to be with him

He looked like he wanted to say something, but he only looked away, chugging down on his cup

"That was the first time you called me by my name again..."

"Stop changing the subject damn it." You held his hand, the first time you had in a while, while also getting a hold of his attention

He sighed, finally looking into your eyes

You never understood until now how you missed it.

"What did you expect?" He took a sip "For me to be with you forever?"

You didn't know why but that hurt you more than it should. Were you really that horrible to be with?

"I..i never thought you could despise me so."

You wanted to asked what did you do to ever deserve this but you honestly didn't want to know

"Oh..i wished i despise you."

What?

"I prayed every night so that you would do something atrocious. So that maybe... maybe i could find it in my heart to hate you."

"What are you saying-" you're honestly seconds away from blacking out right now, but you wanted more than anything to hear what he says

"I had already ended my useless pursuit. After months of just mediocrity i've found out the depressing fact that you had ruined it for me"

"Just get to the goddamn point!-" you say, desprete. Perhaps you had always been

"You ruined love for me..." he breathed out, the alcohol was getting to him. Words starting to spill uncontrollably, both from frustrasion and how drunk he was getting

"How am i supposed to love another after i had loved...you? How could i possibly desire someone else? after this? After you. I couldn't possibly recover.. i'm ruined. And you ruined me. And to have that kind of love not reciprocated isn't something i'm sure i know how to handle.."

Now how can you possibly respond to that? Your head, even when filled with booze could not loosen up after that kind of confession..

Ayato, being the insightful man he was, he noticed how your words seem to fail you right now

"I.. i apologize. I shouldn't had said that.. i don't ever want to inflict manipulation on you, no matter how you feel about me. I can handle it"

Well maybe he couldn't but he'll damn try. For you.

"Ayato..i-" before you knew it, dawn was upon you. You were starting to see him much more clearly, seeing the light reflected in his eyes, made you melt slightly.

Has he always been this...beautiful?

You absentmindedly try to reach for him, his hand catching yours, placing it on the sound of his drumming heart. In that moment, you couldn't help but kiss him, it was as if it was the only right thing to do.

It was just like in his dreams.. feeling your lips on his.... it was just right. It was something that was meant to be. There was something so desprete in your touch it's in the way you cling to him, his collar being pulled slightly melts him, while your other hand caressed the mole on the bottom of his lip. It was unintetionally suggestive he could hear the sound of his heart thumping on his ears. It felt like he could be swallowed whole by that sound alone.

It was more intoxicating than the sake that he had long abandoned, you were addicting.

Amidst his embarassement you were laughing once more perhaps the first time in a while...

Maybe too addicting

Cause he fell

The sound of a quiet thud from the tatami mat could be heard echoing through out the kitchen.

It wasn't like he fell off a chair, you were sitting on the floor. But he was embarassed beyond everything when he saw your face, trying to hold in the laughter

"Ayato- pfft-" it wasn't that funny really, but maybe the alcohol was still getting to you

"Not a word." He slurred, continuing to lay on the floor, shielding his face from your gaze. Before he started to tuned out the sound of your laughter

And he thought.. maybe it wasn't so bad that he fell..

..

.

As he try to regain his pride he could feel you laying down next to him, drawing his attention

"I'm hic wasted" you say, slurring

"Yeah..." his mind weren't exactly sober either

"Can we..stay here?" You wanted more than anything in this moment to be held by him

He only responded with a hum, and as if reading your mind he pulled you in holding you close

You dread the the potential headache that you would have in the morning, but nothing devastate you more than the possibility of forgetting this moment

[d3sertdream3r]

I’ve noticed a lot of rancid takes about Taliesin’s characters that are annoying me, so I’m going to rant for a minute. 

Tal has perfected the art of creating paradoxical characters, and I think a lot of people end up getting lost and confused in the layers. This is not a “if you don't get it, you’re dumb” type of thing. It’s just that I wish people would truly ponder his characters and why they’re the way they are because they’re not the stereotypical protagonists that North American entertainment focuses on. They’re not strictly kind and generous, intelligent and charming, or hateful and arrogant. They’re all of the above. 

A lot of western media features characters that are fairly cut and dry and easy to understand. There isn’t a ton of complexity happening, and from what I’ve seen, the majority of the people hating on his characters and role-play style are from areas where they aren't used to Tal’s type of character. They’re not used to characters having multiple characteristics that seem to contradict each other all at once (even though that’s how people are in real life). I’m guessing that’s part of why they don't like them, but who knows. 

Caduceus is the least paradoxical of his characters, which is why I think most people say he’s their favorite of Tal’s characters. He is the personification of a fluffy blanket and a warm hug. What’s not to love?? Percy, Molly/Kingsley, and Ashton on the other hand, are all much rougher around the edges. The point of them is to provide the opposite of comfort for the audience; they're meant to make people a little uncomfortable. They hold up a mirror to the audience and force us to look at the parts of humanity that we try to avoid. Not the pure evil of mankind that Matt’s villains often show, but something even more sad and hard to swallow. 

Audiences tend to like characters that deal with trauma through humor and/or charm. People benefit from these types of characters by laughing at them or lusting over them. There’s nothing wrong with this by any means; that’s all part of the fun of fandom! However, characters that deal with their trauma in ways that are more raw and painful tend to be disliked. 

Percy is filled with constant fear that his past will haunt his future. He is convinced that wherever he goes, the darkness will follow and the pain awaits. He has horrible nightmares and lives with incessant paranoia, yet faces the deadliest monsters, demons, gods, etc with nothing but his wit and a gun. He can't stop inventing, not just to glorify himself but to protect everyone. He’s so many things at once, which is what makes him so real and complex and fascinating. 

Molly/Kingsley’s story is about wondering who you truly are and not meeting expectations of those you care about. Imagine that you’re not the only one comparing yourself to someone else; all your friends are too. You’re trying to figure out what defines you while feeling like everyone you know wants you to be someone else. His story is also filled with questions about nihilism and whether or not anything truly matters, including identity. 

Ashton represents the endless loneliness of abandonment and feeling like no matter what you do, those you love will never care about you as much as you care about them. He pushes people away and acts like he doesn’t have a care in the world while simultaneously doing everything he can to grip onto his friends. He is jealous of Laudna for the way she died because it showed how loved she was, and how sick is that? To be jealous of someone’s death? To try and force someone to admit that they haven’t gotten over their issues because you can’t accept that it’s possible to overcome yours? What's wrong with you? If it’s possible for people to do that, why can't you? What’s wrong with you? Why is it so hard for you when it seems so easy for others? What’s wrong with you? They represent not just the physical, but the emotional chronic pain that most people don’t have to think about every day. 

I have so much more to say about these amazing characters, but that would take an entire novel. They emotionally bleed all over the place. While they can still be lighthearted and humorous at times, they’re often really messy in various ways. But that doesn’t stop them from being so loving and wonderful at the same time! 

TL;DR, Taliesin’s characters are incredible and I’m so grateful that he is willing to play them in such a raw and real way for those of us that aren’t always funny or charming enough about our trauma to make society like us. 

[astrojulia]

Navigation:   Masterlist✦Ask Rules✦PSD✦INSPO

       Askbox✦Template✦Paid Readings

Born to lead: Aries assume leadership roles not out of ego, but due to their natural gift. They guide people on a common path and easily take the leadership role when they see that no one is playing that role.

Calm in danger: To witness a calm Aries, put them in a situation of stress and danger. In those times, they put their attention and intelligence to work and don't just stay in action. Ruled by Mars, war is their true field and not the same thing as everyday life.

Refined sense of humor: Aries raise the energy of the place and do so through jokes as well. Their sense of humor can also be different, accepting jokes about their appearance and manner when made by people closest to them.

They have a unique style: Aries like to show themselves through their appearance, so they also look for something in which they can stand out. Whether it's using a more hardcore haircut or wearing a piece of clothing in a dark green tone, it doesn't matter - it needs to be recognized as their own brand.

Rebels by nature: Don't try to tell Aries what to do, as they will find an argument to do it their own way. If you're not Aries and you're reading this, learn to "eat around the edges" - speak indirectly and softly so they'll change their minds. Because if you're going to face them head-on, you're lost.

Honest to the extreme: Aries hate lies, and that's why they always seek to confront the issue head-on. They speak the truth promptly instead of prolonging unnecessary deception - it's one of their mottos.

Loyal: You've probably heard that fire and air signs aren't loyal at all, but that's a lie. Aries want to have strong bonds with their loved ones and try to be always present in their lives. When something goes wrong, they try to fix it, but when it's over, it's over.

Opinionated: Aries strive to be heard in situations they witness, refusing to be passive when action is necessary.

Sweet dreams or a beautiful nightmare: Aries tend to be very sweet and polite, yes, they know how to socialize and are not rage animals, but their moods can change quickly when they feel hurt.

Competitive: It's not surprising that Aries are competitive, but it's important to remember. Aries can change their environment, even if it's something comfortable, if it doesn't ignite their competitive spirit.

Sensitive heart: Aries are very emotional when it comes to matters of the heart. They become sensitive in their relationships, giving their all to form intimate bonds with people. That's why, after a breakup, they take time before getting involved again.

Dislike of waiting: Okay, was that a secret for anyone? Now, jokes aside. Aries don't like to wait, especially when there's no explanation for the delay. More than 15 minutes, and they're gone.

Engaged in various activities: If the whole world had complementary activities in schools, then I could say that all Aries do them. But since that's not the case, Aries seek out different activities in their routine. Similar to Geminis, Aries enjoy having more than one thing to do and find it dreadful to just go home and go to work.

Dislike of routine: Aries don't like routine at all, neither in life nor in love. They need something new and something to do. Every now and then, let your Aries friend create a spontaneous itinerary.

Authenticity in expressing feelings: Just as they dislike lies, Aries never lie about anything, including their feelings. If they don't like something or someone, they make it clear. They may try to disguise their emotions, but if you get close, they'll drop the façade.

Quick learners: Being passionate doesn't mean being unintelligent. Aries rule their heads and have active minds, just like other air signs. However, Aries use their mental capacity to assimilate information quickly. They often excel in specific types of intelligence that align with their interests, such as mathematical or kinesthetic intelligence.

Distorted self-perception: Aries tend to have a skewed view of themselves, particularly regarding their bodies and appearance. Sometimes they exaggerate their flaws, while other times they underestimate their true qualities.

Guardians of secrets: When someone confides in an Aries, they keep that person's secrets confidential. Their commitment to truth and trust prevents them from gossiping or sharing private information. They believe that "some things are best left unknown."

Difficulty opening up: Especially in matters of love and intimacy, Aries find it challenging to open up unless they feel a deep sense of trust. This goes against the popular belief that Aries are more relaxed in these areas.

(CC) AstroJulia Some Rights Reserved

[harper-hook]

Minho NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

In the beginning, he was lowkey selfish. Like he would ask if you were good after, if you enjoyed yourself but that was it. You definitely have to ask him to do more and explain how it makes you feel when he doesn’t do more but once you do, he’s got you covered.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He’s a thigh man. Legs too, but mostly thighs. He likes muscular thighs and would willingly die between them. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

It takes him a while to work up the courage to ask but he likes to come inside. He likes watching it drip out of his partner.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He likes a fight, a chase during relationships. He can almost think of it as a game or a challenge. This continues into the bedroom. He likes to fight his partner for dominance with him winning more often than not. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He would lie and saw he’s experienced but honestly his experience comes from hearing the other boys talk about what they “remember” or coming across those types of magazines.

He would definitely be the type to learn from his partner what they like but do it in a teasing way like “use your words and tell me what you want”.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He would start off with basic missionary or with you on your side but would advance to you almost folded in half, legs above your head, or on your knees with your head between your legs balanced on your shoulders. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It depends. It starts off serious and then depending on how into he gets is if he jokes around.

He 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I feel he doesn’t have a ton of body hair, just patches of dark hair in the appropriate places. He comes to appreciate this later.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s very romantic but in a lowkey way. Like he’s going to be pulling your head back with a rough hand through your hair all while leaving sweet kisses on your neck or if he’s biting on your thighs and lower stomach, his hands are running up and down your sides and legs, committing the skin to memory.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Due to having almost no spare time or privacy, he usually jacks it in the shower a lot of times after a night spent with you. He can’t help it. With memory fresh in his mind and constantly replaying his favorite parts of it all. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

If you are flexible enough to be put into an odd position, he gets so excited. He just thinks it’s so hot.

Long or short, if you have hair, he’s gonna pull it. He wants his hair tugged on too.

Biting! He just likes seeing his teethmarks on your neck, thighs, abdomen. He likes when they bruise up and turn purple because they’re harder to hide/keep secret. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

In the Glade, there was very few places for privacy so he frequented the showers. Outside of the Glade, he prefers his bedroom or kitchen table but will still go to the showers every now and then. You know, for nostalgia sake.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Honestly he would get turned on if his partner was rude or had a bit of attitude because he knows he can make you cut that attitude out real quick.

He also likes seeing you waiting there right after he gets back from the maze. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that makes you uncomfortable or anything to do with getting caught while you’re in the glade. He’s gone all day and he doesn’t want anyone getting any ideas.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He likes giving as much as receiving. He would prefer to 69 rather than just give. He gives rough and long licks and would definitely edge you with his tongue.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He has an normal pace at first but his thrusts are very deep and he makes it feel sensual but rough all at the same time. He would get faster the closer he got to release but would slow down if he felt you were getting too close before he was ready.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

For the first part of your relationship, he was all quickies. First thing in the morning before he runs, late at night before you sleep. But as he gets more comfortable exploring his and your kinks, quickies just aren’t cutting it anymore. It still happens every now and then.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He is a bit hesitant about somethings but if it’s something you’re really pushing or if he can’t stop thinking about it, he’ll try. The more successful experiments, the more likely he is to try.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He goes for multiple rounds like 4 or more. They last about 15 to 30 minutes but he recovers fast and is ready to go again.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

At first, he’s not a fan but the first time he watches you use a vibe on yourself, he’s into it. He can’t lie. He’s picky about toys but one thing he really likes is putting nipple clamps on you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He is the devil incarnate when it comes to teasing. He’s gonna ask you to tell him how good he’s making you feel, he’ll stop if you don’t respond. He’ll edge you until you’re begging and pleading for him to do something, anything.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He would tease you about how loud you are like he’s not loud as fuck too. The other boys are traumatized.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

When you mark him up, he’s gonna wear those bruises, hickeys, bitemarks and scratches with pride.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

His dick is average length but skinnier than average. He’s also veiny too which is an added bonus for his partner.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It’s high but he’s got self control. He would have sex almost everyday if he could but he knows that the both of you have work to do and it’s not feasible. But his partner had better be ready when ya’ll get the time...

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Again the first couple times, he almost immediately curls up and turns away from you. He gets better about it though, staying up for a bit to just bask in the glow with you.

[ebonyslasher]

Spicy Alphabet: Ichigo Kurosaki

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

A little shy, Ichigo blushes and smiles. Looking like a handsome strawberry. "Y/n....thanks.". Gets lost in the moment before remembering to clean up and care for you. He’s also a cuddler

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Ichigo: The abs he's attained over all those battle arcs is a testament to his determination. His pecs were pretty awesome too, he makes them bounce to tease you.

You: The cutest button sat upon your face, looking wonderfully wide. Your nose fit your face nicely, and he loves to rub his nose on yours.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Ichigo likes seeing the image of cum leaking out of his dick onto you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He sorta feels bad about it, but ever since he discovered porn, he always visits the 'Ebony' section

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Only done oral with one girl he had a crush on when he was younger. Never done anything since.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

This

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Ichigo will make sly jokes to make the nervousness go away. He won’t joke when he’s in the groove.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He has a cute orange bush going

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Yeah. He needs some emotional attachment to even be okay with having sex with someone. So, Ichigo is romantic. It's comforting when he holds you. Exciting when he thrusts into you, tells you how good you feel and that he's lucky to experience you.

J = Jack off (masturbation hadcanon)

He jacks off regularly when he’s not in a major fighting era. He gets cranky if he can’t in a long time

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Cuddling, big titties, phone sex, threesomes, queening, seduction, flashing

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

On a balcony, at night, with the moonlight glowing on your dark skin

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You stereotypically seducing him (like in a movie): "You like what you see, handsome?"

Flashing your naked body, sparring and impressing him, using your sexy voice on a phone call, making him sexually uncomfortable

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Chains, defiling, CBT, race play

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Tasting you is a requirement. Tasting him is one too. It's too exciting to pass up on, don't you think? Also, please sit on his face.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Andante, deep

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not preferable but he's cool with them, especially on lengthy missions

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

No, he’d have to think about things for a bit before agreeing to something. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

High. Those Bleach battles long as hell (mostly b/c they always have flashbacks for most of it)

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Couldn’t afford toys, plus he’s too shy to go into those types of stores. If you have them, he will use them.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Foreskin pulled back, Ichigo places his head at the edge of your eager entrance. He had already used those amazing fingers to open it up, making it easier to slip in. The crown of his cock peeks in your heavenly doorway and stays there. Ichigo guides the crown of his cock around, in a teasing circle. For a moment, he goes in, but not too far. It made you start whining. "Don't worry, I won't tease you too long...'m about to give in myself."

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Ichigo is very concentrated on your pleasure, that he forgets to make noises. He moans, frequently saying "Ah!" and "Y/N, I can't get enough of you.."

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

It was embarrassing, but you both made love in one of the training areas one day. The next day, Ichigo received a note.

>:(. I didn't need to see that.

From: Rukia

He was horrified.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

6.2". Uncut

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Average

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Quickly. The snoring makes you laugh at how cute he is

[fatmousehr]

I lost my apple pen but when I find it I’m gonna make my ososan oc, and it’ll be fire,but in the mean time here all my head canons from piping hot to lukewarm.

Osomatsu San Headcanons

(via my opinion which means you don’t have to come for me if you don’t like them then good news, they aren’t real I made them up in my head like it says in the name.)

Osomatsu

•physically I see him as the second tallest of the brothers. Having a bigger and broader body type with a beer gut, with body hair because I know this man has a thirteen in one because he cannot be bothered to do anything but the bare minimum. Has darker skin because I just think his natural skin tone would be. Some stubble on his chin and arm hair as well. I cannot believe Osomatsu is skinny because all he consumes is liquor, beer, lies, and hot chip.

•I like to think he has one or two drunk tattoos that he shamefully hides from when he got wasted.

•Acts like the jockey incel as a front and is more obnoxiously towards his brothers just to mess with them. Although sometimes he doesn’t really have an off switch and says the wrong thing to the wrong people by mistake.

•used to really like doing Ballet. ( I got this from the 1980s show were one of the first episodes was him and chibita competing in ballet to see who’s better) He was really passionate about it too but got insecure and didn’t want his brothers to think of him as soft “older brother should be the strong man” type of mind set he has.

•Even though he’s the oldest and thinks he should show he’s strong in a toxic masculinity way he is not keen to be a good role model or idol at all.

•I can live with or without this one but I think when he was in highschool he got into drugs and alcohol cause he wanted to rebel and be different and unintentionally peer pressured some of his brothers into doing that stuff too.

•Some days he gets in a really bad mood where he can change the whole houses atmosphere because he’s pissed off, with reason or none. And gets really pissed off and violent when other people show that they’re happy when he’s in a mood. So most of his brothers avoid him on those days. Sometimes he can be in these moods for weeks and the very next day be normal like nothings happened.

•Uses humor and vulgarity to deflect. Trying to get him to open up emotionally? Deflect by saying something stupid. Wanting him to be serious about something he’s not interested in? Deflect with a dirty joke. Get him to be financially responsible? Deflecting by laughing at you and going to pachinko.

•Is a sweetheart when he wants to be, which is like every holiday or two.

•Talks big talk about women and sex, but if you actually put him in that situation he’s just talk as he on the very edge of the bed all nervous. He’s definitely going to need you to take the lead cause he knows nothing but porno mag fads.

Karamatsu

•Third tallest sibling. More muscular and built because I do think he would be the very few to take care of themselves. He’s just as dark skinned as he his in the summer episode the shows is just too pussy to give any of them melanin of any kind. With hair he can be shaven or just well groomed.

•His cool persona is definitely for moral boost even if his brothers think it’s horrifically painful. He keeps doing it because it amuses him, and it’s his weird way of messing with his brothers in older sibling fashion.

•can be very Serious and very mean if wants to be. He’ll put up with his brothers until he gets to a certain point where he’ll drop the act and just look at them with a thousand yard stare.

•Can fight. Doesn’t act like it, nor look like it, but he can bust someone’s lip if he wanted.

•Bisexual asf. This one is very lukewarm because his wardrobe said before I needed to type it here.

•his good at playing guitar and has played for money on the side of the road and got like twenty bucks.

•Is the older brother you go to for advice, wouldn’t be your first choice, but not the worst or last. If he can see you are serious need of something he’ll help you.

•smokes. Marlboros and fat cigars.

•mainly drinks wine to look distinguished but hates the taste. Drinks liquor and whiskey in a wine glass instead

•in highschool he was too scared to eat in the cafeteria so he sat in the library alone. He had extremely low self-esteem and social anxiety to the t. Definitely listened to msi and pierce the veil.

•his brothers are jealous on the dl of him because he is living his truth shamelessly which they envy. But they would never admit that to him.

•jyushi gave him his chain from highschool and now he where’s it every day.

Choromatsu

•physically I can be very Libyans with him. I can see his as this string bean lanky figure, or my favorite alternative, chubby. Like very little people draw him big and I think he’d be very cute with a bigger body. With body hair He’s more shaven and clean. Like the second cleanest out of the family.

•would have a job as a cashier clerk in some hole in the wall anime store but over dress for it and take the role too seriously.

•can be very big headed and gives unwanted or unwarranted criticism. He doesn’t see it as rude, in his mind he sees it as helping out when it’s not. An over thinker to the simplest things as well, and would over complicate a small inconvenience into an even bigger problem for himself.

•Is an otaku with overpriced merch and manga with porn and no plot in a closet in the house. His mom has infact found it. nags and snaps at his brothers like a mother would.

•looked like a straight A student in highschool but was just a sleaze who would sneak porno mags into school. Has tried and failed to sneak into the girls locker room and played it off as disguising as oso.

•doesn’t smoke because he thinks he’s above that, but drinks like a sailor. Cheap sake or beer.

•straight mostly but I do think he could be gay,but I don’t think he would be able to come out nor would he come to that solution on his own. He would go gay for a specific person but wouldn’t be gay in general type of scenario.

•sassy man. At first he’s nervous but when he gets used to you he turns into a big sass machine. The Whining and complaining package and all. But don’t let me yuck your yum if your about that.

Ichimatsu

•physically he is a big man, both in height and weight. He’s not the tallest, but he’s tall. Cat scratches on his hands. His skin is naturally tan but he never goes outside unless forced so he’s normally giving corpse. Hair everywhere on this man. Arm hair, whiskers and facial hair. When he scratches his back and yawns you can see his happy trail and sharp crooked teeth. #rainforestpussy

•has some tattoos. Some in traditional style of fish and some in faded ink of cats. He has a shitty tattoo of a cat smoking a cigarette on his left ankle.

•hygiene is not good. During his depressive episodes he doesn’t shower for good week or two. Not that he does it on purpose, he just doesn’t do it.

• smokes weed. Had a bong with Garfield stickers in highschool but lost it so now he just sticks to blunts. Smokes with jyushi and sometimes oso, but no one else.

•would work as a line cook or bussing tables. Customer service jobs that have you not talking to the general public.

•drinks sometimes but hates being hungover. So just drinks if his brothers are drinking too.

•esp kitty was a stray but is now his cat.

•is into s&m, bdsm, petplay, and powerplay. He needs to match his freak so he doesn’t talk about it until he’s comfortable.

•an artist but later In years lost his motivation and passion.

•he’s definitely not straight. He’s bisexual for the most part but he is very comfortable with his gender identity and sexuality. He knows what he’s into.

•He’s my fav so this might come off as biased but he is a good guy. He’s cold when you first migh him but if he likes you he’s not gonna leave you.

•probably had a three way with that couple in the park.

Jyushimatsu

•The tallest. Sleepers build for sure cause I cannot see him with a macho build like at all. Very tan because of being a sport feind and being outside 90% of the time. Body hair really depends if he felt like shaving or not. Like he can grow a full beard in a week then be baby face the very next day.

•Undiagnosed neurodivergent.

•works at a daycare part time as a councilor and is very much the kids favorite. The other councilors he works with either fuck with him heavily or think he’s obnoxious.

•doesn’t drink too much and only smokes when he knows he’s not gonna be working the next day. He used to be as bad as oso but wanted to get better.

•Has Kanojo-chan’s name tattooed somewhere on his body.

•Acts on impulse when doing anything and everything. Which sometimes leads him into situations both good and bad.

•In Highschool he was awful towards his brothers and pushed most of them away. When they try to talk him he’d get aggressive and hostile. Stole his dad’s smokes to the point where his dad yelled at all of them to quit stealing from him.

•Now a days he’s what you would expect him to be but feels deep shame, embarrassment, and regret for how he acted.

Todomatsu

•

(My drafts didn’t save totties notes so I’ll do it when I’m not pissed off about it anymore.)

[flameswallower]

Briar's Favorite First Time Reads of 2023!

I read sixty or so books (start to finish) for the first time this year, which is pretty average for me. I liked most of them pretty well, since if I dislike a book I usually won't finish it. But there were some stand outs, which I'm going to list here.

First up: NOVELS!

Pseudotooth, by Verity Holloway (2017) is the first portal fantasy coming of age novel I've read in a long, long time that I found genuinely charming. It has a very dark Gothic edge to it, with shades of Gormenghast and Edward Gorey making for a uniquely unsettling and bleak fantasy world. The novel also deals frankly and seriously with themes of ableism, eugenics, medical abuse, xenophobia, socio-economic class, rape/sexual abuse, and the psychic fallout of rape/sexual abuse. But it's got a lot of whimsical absurdist humor to it, too, and a deep humanist compassion for its characters. The three young adults at the center of the story are all quite likeable, and though they are involved in a kind of love triangle, I found the particulars of it refreshingly queer, strange, and not the primary focus of the story.

The Marigold, by Andrew F. Sullivan (2023) is a pitch-dark, stone cold bummer that is also frequently hilarious and emotionally moving in tender ways that took me by surprise. In this dystopian satire, a bunch of down-and-out relatable characters and one horrible rich guy struggle to survive as near-future Toronto is engulfed by "the Wet"-- a sapient mold-based hive mind accidentally created by the depravity and greed of big business. The residents of the titular condominium/apartment complex feature in short vignettes that demonstrate the despair and alienation people suffer under late stage capitalism, and the way the Wet calls to these people, lures them in, hunts them.

The Open Curtain, by Brian Evenson (2006) is a harrowing nightmare about madness, violence, possession, Mormonism, and the destabilization of one's known reality (well, see also "madness"). It's a type of story that could easily feel shlocky and exploitative of people with certain mental disorders, or just predictable (there are some plot twists you'll guess very quickly if you've ever like...read books or seen movies before...), but Evenson's unornamented yet masterful prose, his meticulous attention to detail, and his non-condescending empathy for both victims of violence and people struggling with delusions, violent impulses, etc. make it rise above those potential problems. At least in my opinion! This one's very disturbing, will definitely leave you feeling like shit.

Hummingbird Salamander, by Jeff VanderMeer (2021) is very emotionally moving and a suspenseful, well-plotted eco-noir page turner! Also a bummer, but leaves one feeling awe and hope and determination as well as mourning the devastating loss of life that climate change has wrought. The protagonist is great, a truly unusual and unlikely detective. I loved her voice-- like any good noir hero, she can throw off a legitimately funny sarcastic quip with the best of them, but she's also prone to astute social observations and flights of breathtaking lyricism.

How to Get Over the End Of the World, by Hal Schrieve (2023) is a TRAGICALLY under-promoted and underrated punk rock magical realist YA masterpiece about trans high schoolers, and their dysfunctional adult mentors, putting on a rock opera to save their community center. This one, unlike most of what I read, is NOT EVEN KIND OF A BUMMER. It's delightful and hilarious from start to finish, though it's definitely not saccharine-sweet or afraid of conflict. In fact, it deals quite bluntly and refreshingly with topics ranging from the relationship one character has with his violent, abusive father, to sexual relationships between teenagers, to the ever-looming awareness of climate change. Every major character is trans! Every single one!! This is kind of a spoiler, but, like, not really lol

Sudden Glory, by Hal Johnson (2023) just goes to show that guys named Hal can really write comic novels. This book has perhaps the highest joke-to-paragraph ratio of anything I’ve ever read, and also probably the most varied types of joke: a person whose sense of humor runs to preposterous situation comedy, slapstick, and lowbrow sexual humor will find a lot to like here, and so will someone whose sense of humor runs to moderately esoteric literary/historical references, social satire, five-layer wordplay, and Wildean bon mots. Since it’s set in the New York City of 2003, there’s even room for a few 9/11 jokes, which could not have appeared without controversy in a book actually published in 2003. This slightly "politically incorrect" edge comes off as good-natured and in keeping with Johnson's commitment to absurdism-- there's never a "laughing at" vibe, more one of "laughing with" human folly, futility, pretensions, etc. At base, this is a story about a person who feels he can't tell the truth or be himself for fear of social rejection, and all the trouble that gets him into.

Piranesi, by Susanna Clarke (2020) is fucking gorgeous, probably one of my favorite books of all time now, this hole was made for me, etc. I can't reasonably expect that most others will have as intense a response to it as I did-- I felt it perfectly conveyed some very important and difficult to articulate things about, like, my personal experience of consciousness, and my experience as a person with certain types of neurological/cognitive/developmental disability navigating the world, through a kind of fabulist prism. But it got great reviews, so, you know, give it a shot! I think it's better not to know anything about it going in, but let me just say, if you're into weird, massive labyrinthine buildings, this hole might also have been made for you.

Devil House, by John Darnielle (2022) is exactly the novel you'd expect "the Mountain Goats guy" to write, in all the best possible ways. It's a story that elevates the inner lives of neurodivergent outsider teens to the mythic heights they deserve. It's a story that brutally critiques the true crime industry. It's a story about the problems of defining people exclusively by their victimhood, or exclusively by the worst thing they ever did. It's a story about the importance of having a little space to oneself, a shelter from the demands and threats of an often cruel world, and the lengths to which a person will go to defend such a shelter if it's broached. Also, there's a long, nauseating section about how it's actually really difficult and gross to chop up a human corpse for disposal.

[astroyongie]

Sukuna nsfw a to z plsssss

A To Z Analysis: NSFW

Sukuna

(based on 6urse chart)

A = Aftercare 

he is surprisingly good at aftercare but without speaking it out. he is organized and gets things ready before the session so after it he just has to do whatever it takes without having to listen to you demanding it

B = Body part 

both on himself and his partner he likes the same thing. for exemple a nice well taken hair is something he appreciates, pail skin, well done nails and just that softness on the skin. Sukuna is a simple man

C = Cum (

he is usually very simple and he doesnt like the mess of cum. however when he is really excited he loves to release on the smaller back on his partner

D = Dirty secret 

you dont understand how many pictures and videos of you he has stored on his phone. from semi nudes to nudes to full videos of you in the most vulnerable ways, the pride he has that he was there in all of those

E = Experience

he has quite some experience but they come from previous relationships as he isnt the type to have one night stands

F = Favorite position

doggy style and mattress press. anything with his partner being turned around and upon his mercy

G = Goofy 

this man is far from goofy. he is full business and seriousness during the need, there's no place for humor

H = Hair 

he is well groomed actually, he takes care of his body and of his applearence even down there. he doesnt care much for his partner but he would prefer them to have groomed hair. not bare neither too fussy

I = Intimacy 

he will never admit it but intimacy Is important as he wont sleep with anyone unless he has some feelings at least for the person

J = Jack off

he does it often mostly when he is under a lot of stress and pressure and he needs something to clear off his mind

K = Kink 

his kinks arent as sadistic as one can think but they still express dominance since he wont allow his partner to have any. overstimulation one day, orgasm denial the other. scent play and spanking are his favorite things ever

L = Location 

bedroom of course but also.. his working place

M = Motivation 

its not easy to turn him on, since he is well self controlled and he doesnt like to lose his composure. the best way to get him into it is by making him mad. so go against his word or defy him

N = No (

he will say no to anything that would permantely scar you or hurt you. anything that damages the body itself is a big no

O = Oral 

he is such a receiver. this man has talents when it comes to his mouth he is super skilled, but he wont give oral all times, its reserved in special occasions. however he wants his dick worshipped

P = Pace

he is a rough yet slow pacer.. he likes to feel it all

Q = Quickie

he aint into it. he likes the full session where he can have his full atention on his partner

R = Risk 

he will take risks and he will experiment but only after doing his own research. it might be hard to get him out of his comfort zone

S = Stamina 

this guy is a machine but a controlled one. he lasts for about 30 minutes averagely but he prolongs the session longer when he is into denying

T = Toys 

he is jealous of it to be honest and he probably has beef with some of his partner's toys

U = Unfair 

he is UNFAIR and awful when he truly gets on the edge. its either too much either not enough and the way you cry is melody to his ears

V = Volume 

he aint that loud, but he does curse and grunt a lot during the deed

W = Wild card

there's two here. the first is that surprisingly he is someone self conscious and prefers to do it on the dark unless he is half dressed or if he really wants to see you wrecked. also.. voyeurism

X = X-ray 

big boy, but more thick than long. quite veiny

Y = Yearning 

moderate sex drive

Z = Zzz

after the deed he likes to go back to his own business as he is unportable with the lovey dovey post sex bliss

[lyrical-lovely]

Anime Review - Kakegurui (S1 + S2)

I watched all of Kakegurui within a few days- it kept me on the edge of my seat and was overall a thrilling watch.

Watch Kakegurui if: - You enjoy math, gambling, statistics or numbers - You enjoy harem anime with lots of lovely women - You enjoy dark, thriller anime - You have a dark sense of humor - You are able to suspend your disbelief

Do NOT watch Kakegurui if: - You are easily triggered (discussions of self-h***, su*****, se**** a******) - You dislike over-sexualization of high school characters - You prefer a slice-of-life high school anime

NO SPOILERS below the cut - continue safely!

Though I very much disliked the extreme points of this anime, which included self mutilation and pushing the limits of gambling, I enjoyed the numbers behind it and getting to learn about each game, along with the complex social structures held up by Japan's elite. The second season was especially good - it felt like they really found themselves.

The main character is supposed to be the guy- I don't even remember his name, he's so boring- but Yumeko steals the spotlight away immediately. He's a pretty generic harem protagonist who doesn't do much other than narrate the series and help put the gambling into perspective as a "normal person." Yumeko, though a compelling character, is a bit oversexualized and over-the-top. I think, though, in order for a gambling anime like this one to be enjoyable, it almost has tot be completely over-the-top. The bets are on insane stakes, such as one's life or one's future or absurd amounts of money, and the characters are all almost caricatures.

One of the things I think this anime does quite well is the introduction of cheating. Of course, cheating is no fun in regular gambling, but it makes a lot of sense in this scenario. After all, these are uber-wealthy kids who are clawing their way to the top, of course they're going to cheat! Not only does Yumeko always find a way around the cheat, but she's quite the cunning player herself. I found this aspect kept the games from getting flat and repetitive.

One of the high points of this anime was Terano, pictured above. Her disability is NEVER mentioned, not even once. I'm not sure if this is the case in the manga as well, but she is allowed to just peacefully exist as a disabled character without her disability being a main plot point or even part of her backstory. She's clever and cunning, and a great contender to win the election (no spoilers, just season 2 plot). An excellent character overall.

A lot of the games were really cool, too. Most of them were original. "Life or Death" was a good game, and so was "Nim Type Zero." I didn't fully understand the point of the idol game show being a part of the anime- it seemed like a desperate attempt to tap into the idol fan market and to sell more merchandise, but those scenes were enjoyable nonetheless.

Overall, I'd give this anime a solid 7/10. While there were lots of parts I didn't like, I think it has great rewatch value and was amazing the first time through. I'm really hoping it gets renewed for a third season as it ends on a bit of a cliffhanger. Thanks for listening!

[candy-anon-imagines]

I affectionately blame @mega-punani for the brain-rot from their UT One Piece AU:

Name: Scarlet (Preferred Nicknames: Scar, Scarly)

Biological Sex: Female

Gender Identity: Demigirl

Pronouns: She/They

Romantic/Sexual Identity: Demiromantic Demisexual

Occupation/Education: Doctorate in Medicine and Doctorate in Toxicology; Is fully educated in Monster Medical Practices

More about Her (Including my sloppy reference doodles of her) under the read more:

Species: Mermaid, Type: Lionfish (posing as a Human)

Age: 30 (she keeps her tail split)

Body: Mainly Pale Skin, it has a sun-kissed tan that she applies proper amount of high spf sunscreen onto; 5 feet 1 inch or 1.55 meters tall; sturdy, curvy but chubby body- the body fat is athletic fat, she’s proportionate, and she’s much stronger than she looks (like she could carry full barrels no problem and able to break human bones with barely any effort, she’s holding back her strength constantly); her nails and hair can act as poison spines if she wills it; she has a soft, round, baby-faced… er, face, but has a long, jagged scar on the right side of her face that runs from her forehead, down her eye- her right eye being partially blind from said injury- and ends at just barely past the corner of her mouth.

Clothing: Collared White Shirt with pearl-like iridescent coloring, sleeves have a ruffle that cascades from the elbow to about the wrist; Dark Brown or Dark Grey loose fitting- but not too baggy- pants to hide her split tail, multi-belt things that hold multiple Sea Prism Stone lined bags/pouches that hold money, medical supplies, regular supplies, poisons, and personal items that she holds dearly; Fingerless Gloves to hide her webbed fingers; Black practical boots to comfortably walk/run/move in as well as hide her tail fin in them; a Sea Prism Stone lined strap that goes across her torso for carrying her weapons, more poisons and medicines, and more medical supplies.

Hair: Long, Scarlet with off-white stripes; resembles lionfish spines/fins; almost always has her hair in two braids.

Eyes: Really Dark Brown, almost looking Black.

Likes: Sweet foods, Savory foods, Salty foods, Food in general (a bit of a glutton; neutral on sour and spicy foods), Music, Singing, Dancing, Helping People, Healing People, Honesty, Genuine Emotions/Vulnerability, Swimming (duh), Tinkering/Inventing, Searching for stuff underwater/Treasure Hunting, Poetry, Harmless Jokes/Puns/Harmless Pranks/Humor overall ("Laughter is the best medicine"), a good story, good company, a good drink/good booze, good weed (uses it both recreationally and medically)("Do you smoke?" "Smoke what~?" >:3c), Fancy/Pretty Jewelry/Clothes (never has the money for them).

Personality: Kind, sweet, and caring, but a bit bitter, cynical, and jaded; a worrywart and can mother-hen a bit; can fluctuate between the patience of a saint and ‘I’m so DONE with Y’ALL’ at whiplash-inducing speeds; has trust issues; if you over-exaggerate and/or are a drama-queen about an injury/illness/etc, she’ll tell you ‘walk it off and shut up’ but she can/will carry/drag you to the med-bay if you’re injured/ill/etc but try to get out of it (examples: “I’m fine” “it’s just a scratch” “I’ll rest when I’m dead”); has a strong desire to help/heal those around her and wants to become one of the best doctors in the world; god help you if you get her angry, but it takes a while to get her there; is mostly honest, but knows when to lie/not give out information/etc; anxious, but hides it well (lots of internal panicked screaming); has a good sense of humor: various jokes/puns, including medical ones, fish jokes/puns post reveal.

Weapon(s): 13.5 inch Tactical Bowie Knife with a serrated edge, a Harpoon with a rope attached to the one end and a detachable/replaceable tip, and one long range/sniper dart gun and one short range/pistol dart gun (both dart guns use pressurized air/air pressure to fire the darts).

Dislikes: Bitter foods- especially olives, Liars/Disingenuous People/Disingenuous interactions (knows that lying/manipulation is sometimes needed but still doesn't like it), crappy booze, how expensive medical supplies can be, creepy perverts who hit on her/still hit on her even though she's made her disinterest obvious, racists/bigots/prejudice people, the Marines/World Government as a whole.

Fighting:Merfolk Blade/Combat Knife Fighting Style, Merfolk Spear/Trident/Harpoon Fighting Style, Minor Pole-arm Fighting Style, Dart Guns- short and long range- are more for support and/or a last resort, Black Belt in Merfolk Martial Arts, Black Belt in Merfolk Water Combat Arts.

Hobbies: Art/Drawing/Painting, Tinkering/Inventing, Dancing, Singing, Drumming, Gardening/Growing Plants, Creative Writing, Treasure Hunting, Writing Music/Songs.

Other Skills: Cooking/Baking (Good at it), Nutritional Planning (Really Good at it), Minor Navigational Skills (better at sea), Minor Shipwright Skills, Minor Meteorology Skills (better at sea), Minor Building/Mechanical Skills, Tinkering/Inventing (Good at it), Singing (Amazingly Good at it; Like, She’s been mistaken for a Siren and- if she decided to change careers- could very easily become a famous singer), Fishing/Hunting (Amazing at it), Lying/Manipulation (Slightly Above Average), Genuine Flirting (Is Okay at it), Art/Drawing/Painting (Good at it; never has enough funds for good quality supplies- always got the cheap stuff), Poetry (Above Average), Dancing (Great at it), Gardening/Growing Plants (Good at it), Drum Instruments/Drumming (Really Good at it).

[lucifercassandra]

2

So what does Lucifer have to do to "make up" for leaving Cassandra all alone?

"And you are just giving this to me?  What is it that you truly want in return, Luc?" Cassandra’s head tipped as she looked at him.  One did not give such an item without reason or strings.

"Maybe I have sensed a kindred spirit, one in a very lovely package."  He winked.  "I want nothing in return. A gift is not a gift if a form of payment is expected."   While he expected nothing and would ask for nothing in return, this was true, he hoped she would not ask what he was hoping for.  The answer to that question would be something completely different.

It took Cassandra a moment of consideration before she accepted the gift from Lucifer.  She had been alive long enough to know that not all gifts were what they seemed.  Her dark eyes were intense as they narrowed and scrutinized his face, looking for any indication of deception in his offer.  While she knew that Abriella would not tolerate anyone manipulating her friends, she also knew that her friend’s trust in Lucifer was far from rock solid.

“I will trust you…for now, Lucifer.” Finally she answered him, her voice smooth as velvet.  It was rich and warm, a little deep for a female, but held a sensual note that tended to draw people in.

“I promise that you will not regret it, Cassandra.”  The corners of his lips lifted, reflecting his pleasure at her answer as he slid the ring upon her finger.  Lucifer had been saving the bauble for just the right time, and just the right person.  It seemed he had found both now, and that fact additionally pleased him.  “I am no angel, like your previous companion,” his eyes crinkled at the edges in humor, “but I am no longer the male that I was in the past.  My grandchildren have shown me the ere of my ways, I can assure you.”  That they let him go down into Caligo and enjoy some of the activities there did help.

“Is that so, Luc?” Cassandra’s head tipped to the side as she studied the handsome male who was now closer than Raguel had dared to come to her, not that this was something she would complain about.  She had only been toying with the angel, Lucifer was a different matter.  There was something about him that made her want to investigate him more.

“What could I do, my lovely, to help endear myself to you?  There must be something.”  One side of his mouth rose as he pinned her with his crystalline blue eyes, mischief sparkling them with a hint of a dare dancing around the edges.  He did have to wonder what she would request or require.  The sorceress before him was far from a normal or a sedate female.  If she were, she would be far less fascinating and alluring to him.  Her beauty was just a nice accoutrement.

Cassandra wore a slightly devious, yet alluring smirk of her own as she looked up into those eyes of his that she knew were calculating and far more scrutinizing than he would ever let on.  A test, yes, she would give him one; one that could at least be enjoyable for the two of them.  “Dinner, lobster would be nice, and authentic ‘30’s jazz.  I want all the ambiance and none of the modernity.  Surely you can make that happen.  You are a Prince after all.”  

An eyebrow rose, not quite the type of request he had anticipated but one that he would be more than happy to fulfill.  Was she trying to make it easy for him?  Or was it more that she was just trying to see if he’d cater to her whims and wishes?  No matter which, this would be a delightful evening; far better than if they had to attend some stuffy ball.  “I am to assume that the lady wishes for it to be live music as well?  Earthside, or will any realm do?”  A sly smile formed as he inclined his head towards her.

“Of course live music.  You think I would want recorded?”  She scoffed, albeit in jest.  The back and forth was delightful with him. “I will leave it up to you where we enjoy the evening.  I have made my requests.” She smiled, a genuine that lifted the corners of her mouth, narrowing her eyes as her cheeks rose as well as she patted him lightly in the middle of his chest, her head tipping as her expression morphed into one of being pleased with herself.  Lucifer thought he quite liked a smile on her and did wish to see it often.  His granddaughter had done quite well in pairing him with such a fine creature to acclimate to Imperium and Caligo.

“Then by all means, I shall endeavor to ensure that you have your little heart’s desires, my lady.”  His hand made a small flourish by his temple as he bowed slightly, a light chuckle emanating from him.  It was but a tease, however the lighthearted back and forth between them was something that he was coming to enjoy.  A surprise that Lucifer was reticent to end.

[obsoleteozymandias]

1. Hello I was wondering if I could get a lotr and marvel matchup?

2. I’m bisexual with she/her pronouns so any gender is fine!

3. Appearance:

As for looks, I’m 5’1, average to smaller build, tanned olive type skin, dark brown eyes, full lips, dark brown shoulder length wavy/kinda curly hair with curtain bangs. I also wear glasses with a slight cat eye to them.

4. Personality:

For personality I’m creative, introverted, and individualistic. Though I’m introverted, around my friends I can be quite talkative, humorous and outgoing. However I definitely treasure my alone time the most.

5. Hobbies/Interests:

As for hobbies escaping to new worlds while reading books/comics, watching movies, and playing rpg video games (I’m quite the homebody if u couldn’t tell). My favorite genres are fantasy and sci-fi, though I do love a good classic from time to time. Apart from that, I love working out.

My interests on the other hand are art focused. I’m currently in art school working with both digital and traditional mediums. I love my practice and everything from interaction design and digital illustration to graphite drawings and inking.

6. Likes/dislikes:

Likes: coffee, chai tea, dark chocolate, rock/blues/jazz/ music, cafe art shows, arcades, comic book stores, purple, thai/Indian/Chinese food, roller blading to classic rock with the wind in my hair, quality alone time

BDislikes: people i am unfamiliar with and have to make small talk with, the biting cold, rain, non fiction, staying too close to reality and not being allowed to daydream/imagine/roam freely in my thoughts, too much physical touch, overly crowded areas

Thank you!

It shall be so. 

== The Lord of the Rings ==>

I match you up with…

Galadriel 

As a fellow introvert, I understand the necessity of alone time, and so does Galadriel. She’s never been one for large gatherings either, and so your solitude syncs up perfectly with hers. Oftentimes, you two will simply sit in the same room together, content to be in the other’s presence without feeling pressured to speak or fill the silence. 

She’ll sit near you, and maybe simply kiss your forehead gently every now and then. You’ll read together, and at the end of the day, share your thoughts on what you read. She always listens intently. 

That said, she definitely loves your more humorous and bold traits. She admires your passion for life in general, and how you find joy not in riches or status but simply in the things that make you happy. 

Your passion for the arts coincides with her deep and personal personality. She doesn’t have trouble expressing herself per say, but if you find her something that speaks to her on a personal level she will be absolutely delighted. It’s not often that people understand what goes on in her mind.  

She also finds solidarity in the way you daydream. She sees the future, sure, but her role as a leader also means she must be ready and willing to calculate the consequences of her actions. You take the edge off, providing a new point of view with a creative touch. 

And even when you’re not helping her with her duties, she finds comfort in your free-spirited mind and your ability to simply lose yourself in the things you love most. Maybe you can take her with you sometime. 

In her, you find a compassionate lover whose company you don’t mind at all, and in you, she finds a free-spirited lover who makes her feel young once more. 

== Marvel ==>

I match you up with…

Foggy Nelson 

Literally the best man in the MCU I will die on that hill. 

Foggy has always been attracted to the quiet but bold types, and boy do you rock his world. He’s empathetic to your initial awkwardness around new people, but being himself, he quickly makes you feel comfortable. He’s not afraid to play the fool if it means he gets to see you smile. 

He’s one of those people who says the most hilarious things out of nowhere, whether it be at a casual meetup or at home, he’s always cracking the most insane yet funny jokes you’ve ever heard. 

He’s an extravert, but he has no qualms about giving you your space. He’s loving, yes, but he also understands the need to simply be on your own sometimes. Every now and then, though, he’ll check up on you, making sure you’re feeling alright. 

If he sees you getting overstimulated, he’ll do whatever he can to bring you back down to earth. He has an astonishing intuition for what you need at any given point, so he’ll be there to keep you safe in any scenario. 

He definitely gets down to music with you. He’s into jazz and rock, and he knows the words by heart. Once you play a song he knows, it’s karaoke time. And he goes whole-ass. Foggy has been ashamed of a lot of things in his life, but being with you makes him feel free to be himself. 

Similarly, he never holds you back. If he sees you’re in a dreamy mood, he’ll give you all the time and space you need. He’ll even ask you about it later. 

I know he’s not everyone’s favorite, but Foggy is a grade-A man, and a dependable and uplifting partner. 

[moki-dokie]

Jess lore pt.2

< Part 1 | Part 3 >

Jess had a great relationship with his parents. They were kind people, the reason he has such strong moral values.

From his mother, he inherited his height, hair, and hands. She was a handsome woman; taller than most the men, thick brown hair, warm brown eyes that crinkled at the edges when she smiled, and nimble but strong hands with a talent for massaging away the worst aches and pains. From his father, he inherited his eyes, his smile, and his ornery sense of humor. He was rather average in appearances, nothing remarkably or overly attractive, average height, a slightly stocky build. What was more unusual about him, however, was the combination of deep, dark red, curly hair and piercing pale blue eyes. Your classic Irish ginger, with a twist.

Jess doesn't remember much of the story about how they met, it involved their two packs being invited to a large gathering hosted by the ancient pack of Kilkenny. A celebration of some sort. They were a bit older, just slightly outside their prime when they decided to start a family. A little older than Jess is now. He does remember how very much they loved each other. His father always swooning over his mother, and she always blushing as if they were still new lovers. The endearing, stupidly sweet nicknames they bestowed upon each other used to embarrass him when he was younger. Now, he's just as bad.

His mother quickly became the "den mother" of the whole pack. Nobody could avoid her motherly doting, no matter their age or rank. Including Mateo himself. She was more than happy to watch over the pups to give other parents a break and even ended up part-time adopting one close to Jess's age, Sonia. As the pack's main hunters and backup scouts, Sonia's parents spent the majority of their time actually away from the territory. Hunting in the desert could be a real challenge; prey was sparse and often spread out. On the plus side, prey animals were smaller and didn't require large numbers to take down. Antelope, big horns, peccary, the occasional burro - usually both of them could return with a kill each.

Sonia and Jess were best of friends and essentially raised as siblings. While both knew they weren't actually blood related, that never changed their bond.

There were a total of six pups Jess grew up with all within a handful of years of each other. At one point or another, his mother had cared for them all and had a hand in raising them. She was a blessing to have around when the group came of age to start their shifts. Medicinal soaking baths and deep tissue and joint massages made growing and shifting pains far more bearable and less frightening. She taught Jess her same methods which he used for the pups going through the same thing once he was grown.

His father was always the first person to offer help for quite literally anything you could think of. "If you see help is needed and you have the ability to help, then you help." it was something he said often, a creed of sorts Jess followed his whole life. He was one of the most selfless people Jess had ever known and he looked up to him for it. He was full of kernels of wisdom, one of those old-fashioned types of wolves that could pull proverbs out of thin air. "Tomorrow is just another today." "No wolf stands so proud as he who guards the playing pup." "Shed light upon another's path and you will brighten your own." "The wisest wolf does not have a head full of knowledge, but a heart full of love. The smartest wolf does not have the best strategies, but an ear ready to listen. The strongest wolf is not measured by the strength of his bite, but by his ability to uplift others." "There is no weakness in being kind; it takes courage to be soft in a harsh world." And so many more.

It was his father who helped him with the troubles of his first shift, encouraged him with patience, love, and support. His father was the one who could most often clear up disagreements that cropped up in the pack, including amongst the pups. He made fast friends with Mateo, the two of them getting on like brothers; Mat the elder and more serious and his father the younger jokester. He was just as often found wrestling with the pups as he was helping tend the crop fields.

In the spring of 1862, the tribe begged the help of the pack as confederate soldiers started advancing for a foothold in the west, and in the process trying to exterminate any of the natives they came across. Mateo wouldn't force anyone to go - although allies, these were human affairs, which they removed themselves from as much as possible. Yet even still, when he asked if any would volunteer to fight with them, more than half of the pack did without hesitation. Including Jess's father.

He and three others did not return.

Jess was 17 when his father died.