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#the og stands above
badger-with-a-boa · 1 year
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I'm officially obsessed with X-Men:Evolution Laura
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nattousan · 6 months
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embraceyourdestiny · 1 month
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D20 is so unique in its market because of its comedy / improv and writing roots. Other actual play shows are good but because many of them are just friends messing d20 with always have an edge purely from a technical standpoint and that is a HUGE lead and draw to audience members, and then on top of that from they very beginning they’ve had a STELLAR art team and nerds love nothing more than cool shit. Dimension 20 is set up to be an incredible show and people love it because of how much it EXCELS in every caliber.
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mayprilayunely · 1 year
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for a dtiys on instagram <3
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I think Naida is probably my biggest OC glow up thus far
(as a follow up to my main 3)
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hoshigray · 2 months
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This is my first time requesting something but HEAR ME OUT, "Slow Cuddle-fucking with og Sukuna while he is holding (and caressing) Reader (His wife) tightly and praising her (with him having size(difference) and breeding kink) oneshot please please please PLEASESSS😭
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: NAH CUZ I SEE THE VISION, HOLD ON–
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: true form! Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - size difference - monster-fucking (he got 2 dicks, y'all) - double penetration; anal and vaginal - spooning dp position - breast fondling + nipple play - breeding kink - clitoral play (pinching and swiping) - dacryphilia - pet names ([little]dove, good girl, my wife, woman) - soft! kuna, but not too OOC - mention of drool/spit and tears.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.5k
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“Stay still, woman…Mmnnn, good girl, nice and easy…”
It’s not a rarity for Sukuna to have his hands on you as you two slept through the night. After all, he is the King of Curses; asking permission to touch his is beneath him. You were made for him to hold – sculpted for his cursed hands to touch – everyone else was far behind or had no standing compared to your demonic husband. And with you both sharing a futon every night, who’s supposed to tell him to keep his hands to himself?
You, his little spouse, knew of this. Marrying the King of Curses was something you never imagined would happen — let alone falling in love with the giant man! You’ve always had dreams of becoming a sweet little partner to someone; for that to be fulfilled by the cursed man who could kill thousands in the blink of an eye is astounding. 
And, of course, being a wife entails all the duties accompanying the package. Especially now, as you two lie together on the floor, nude bodies nestled close on the futon above the tatami floor, and your naked figure trembling from the insertion of one of Sukuna’s paired cock. And your heart drops at the second one brushing up against the crevice of your ass when he pushes the one inside your throbbing, velvety channel. 
“Mmmph…! Sukuna, no,” you whined, your butt inching away from the second member. “I can’t handle both—“
“Don’t lie; you’ve done it before and did it well,” a hand brings your waist to him. “Or maybe I should just have one of the concubines take care of me, seeing as though my own wife is neglecting their duties.” 
He wouldn’t do that; Sukuna’s interest in his insignificant mistresses had long been diminished once he took you up as his bride, practically collecting dust as he hadn’t visited them since you shared a bed with him. Now, he uses them as tools to probe you. And he has to hold back the mischievous snicker when your eyes widen with anxiousness, wrapping your arms around his neck in desperation.
“N–No, please!” You pleaded; it was the only sufficient approach. “I’ll be good to you, I promise!”
The four-eyed curse scoffs. “Then do what you’re supposed to,” Each crimson orb takes in information about your bashful expression, “And attend to your husband like a wife should.”
Further complaints cease at his command, so you quiet down and arch your behind to him submissively. Sukuna takes your initiation with his hungry bottom hand on your ass, squeezing the flesh as you guide his other dick to your lubed asshole. With a hum, he pushes himself and forces you to take his cocks with your bottom, needing a few seconds to breathe when your holes reach the base of his members.
“Good girl,” he says to your ear to make you shudder, and he lifts your leg with the hand that finished groping your asscheek. “Obeying me so well like always…”
He begins to move without a signal, slowly pulling himself in and out of your warm wetness that coats his length with your slick. You can’t help but grip the girth limbs that massage your insides, involuntarily throbbing on them with shaky breaths.  
“Mmmaah, ohhhmyG—Mmm!” Speech isn’t easy, even with his upper left hand cupping your cheeks. And your brows furrow as the upper right sneaks to grope a breast. “Faaahh, Suk..una, I’m too full already…”
“Mmm? Is that so?” Sukuna asks with a patronizing tone, licking the helix of your ear to hear you gasp. “But we’ve barely started yet, my wife. Don’t bore me before I can enjoy you yet.” 
His hips go at a gradual cadence that has you keening a mess, the sensation of the veins of his cocks felt by the walls of your holes. You howl silently, not wanting to make too much noise.
But that doesn’t fly with your husband, speaking to your ear with that hoarse voice. Almost has you melting as he squishes with your cheeks, “Let it out, princess,” he commands. “I want to hear that voice; don’t you dare hide that from me.”
Fuck, the way you felt on his dicks was so fucking good, having the cursed behemoth burrow his face into the cubby of your neck. Slow kisses on your skin segway to sucks that should mark for later. He could never get enough of how small you were up against him. His giant palm swallowed your tit, your ass bouncing with every thrust, and how damn tight you were as you accommodated the two members making your entrances busy. 
Goddamn it, he bites his lip, dialing up the speed of his ruts a bit. Scratching your inner walls has you squeaking louder, unable to stop yourself when he grinds his hips after a sudden grim pound. So warm and snug for him as if you were meant for him. He knew you were meant for him — taking his huge, fat shafts with no objections, just arching your back further so the sensation could be more pleasurable like the loyal, little pet you are. “Hmngh…! Yeah, just like that, little dove; keep clenching around me like that…”
Restraint was gone long ago, letting your voice and shrieks fly out and fill the quiet bedroom. The sound of his skin shaking against your ass, the heat of your cheeks making it hard to think, and the shivers crawling your spine with every graze to your sweet spots. Everything feels like a haze, your brain too clouded to think outside this moment. 
And then you sense the hand on your breast let go, slithering down to your unattended clitoris, which has your eyes shoot wide as your demon husband presses down. “—Khhff! Nooo, ‘Kunaa, you mustn’t…!”  
He lifts a brow with a grin; you dare question him? “And why shouldn’t I?” He pinches the delicate bud, resulting in a scream sneaking past your lips. “Hmm? Plead for yourself.”
“Becau—Ahhh! Mmmm, I’ll cum. I’m gonna cumm…”
“Then don’t,” Sukuna doesn’t remove his digits playing with your clit, and the hand on your chin pulls your face to look at him. “Cum without my permission, and I’ll make sure to not be so kind next time...” His words carry a warning filling your bones with apprehension, yet his soft lips greet yours and he hums into your mouth. The kiss serves as a distraction from his thick digits gently swiping on the pearl.
The rhythm of his hips, however, increases in speed and prompts more moans to be taken by Sukuna. Drool trickles down your lips, same with tears that welled up earlier from the insertion of his girth inside your ass. Your eyes roll at the jab to your silky walls, breaking the sweet yet passionate kiss to cry out as your husband’s fat balls smack your ass. 
“—Ooooo, fuuuck, I can’t,” your eyelids shield your vision, using the rest of your senses to indulge in this euphoric pleasure. “‘Kuna, I’m so close, so—Ooohh!”
“Me too…Ghhh! Shit, me too…” Sukuna presses his hot face to yours when you throw it back, licking the tears off your sweaty skin. You looked so stunning like this, all disheveled and immodest because of him. “Gonna take my load, huh?” He licks the sweat off your shoulder and bites when you don’t respond. “Answer me, Y/n.”
“—Ahhh, yes!”
That’s not enough. “I said,” he pinches your clit again as he gives slow yet rough ruts to your holes. And he can tell by your twitching that you’re doing everything in our power not to come. “Answer me.”
Holy shit, this was borderline torture. “Mmmph! OhhhLord, ‘Kunaaa, I want you to fill me up. Pleasee, pleasepleaseee, I wanna be full; wanna be all ‘round and fat with your child…!”
“Keh, dumb pet; who said I wanted a brat, huh?” He scoffs, yet you can hear the groan as he licks and sucks on your neck while squishing your hot, tear-stricken cheeks. “Fine then; go on and cum with me. So damn needy for my seed…”
Sukuna brings your chin for another steamy kiss, his lower left hand holding yours as his pelvis goes at an irregular pace. Your muffled shrills are taken by feisty lips, teeth clashing with his fangs before sucking on his tongue, and the upper left hand releases your chin to caress your chest once more, tweezing the nipple along with swipes to your clit.
Release gradually creeps up your shaky frame, crying to his mouth when your chasm and anus pucker around the lengths that graze your walls with the tips. Sukuna is not too far behind you, pumping his load into you with a few harsh plunges, making your contracting cunt and rear full of his hot and thick semen. The lower right hand propping your leg up leaves soft kneads on your inner thigh, hoisting it up further so his shafts are deep enough until his pulsing balls meet your ass.
You withdrew from his lips to breathe, your figure quivering through the aftershocks, and your slit and asshole still flutter around his girths. And you mewl when he kisses your cheek and temple.
“Mmm, that’s my princess,” he purrs while placing your leg down to massage your waist. “Such a good dove…”
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/benkeibear.
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"Defying the Default"- Skin Tones and the Presence of Black Characters
Okay, this one is going to be half lesson and half a thought experiment- it may get a bit frustrating, as conversations like this often do- but remember, discomfort is not always a bad thing! So I ask that you walk with me for this one.
It’s also interesting, because I’m going to direct this towards everyone (readers included!), but specifically towards my fanfic writers of media with no visual medium, as I’ve noticed this pattern there, and it makes up a good amount of creators on this site. Okay? Okay.
Behold! Many shades of brown!
I had to wade through a lot of colorism for this, and even this link is subtly racist in its introduction- the idea that brown is ‘unexciting’ 🙄.
Anyway, you know where I’m going with this:
"Chocolate and Coffee"
Even the link above pulled this! Writers who use this... they’re not ‘wrong’ per se but… often uninspired. It feels... Lazy. When you can tell an author has put no thought into the brown of choice, it makes Black readers feel like you believe these are the only shades of brown- that that’s all we look like. Even chocolate is more diverse (white, milk, dark, marbled, cookies and cream?) Coffee can come in numerous shades as well (light, medium, dark roast? Type of bean?)
My first direction to help with this: make it a point to know what shade that character is (whether canonically, or if you're the original creator, look at a reference and write it down) and find a name! Be consistent! Find similar browns to one another. If the canon Black character's skin color is done poorly, find something similar and use that! (I'll get more into this in the next lesson!)
Our skin colors may modify as we age, it changes over the seasons/presence in the sun, and some people even have vitiligo! But we're not gonna be “dark roast coffee” one morning and “light milk chocolate” suddenly. We're not chameleons lmao.
And you know what? That shade you choose might very well be 'coffee'! But it's not going to be because you didn't look and assumed we're all some random brown! That’s the intent showing! If we can find endless ways to describe the beauty of white/pale skin, we absolutely can for brown! Be willing to unpack why you may not believe brown to be capable of beauty, and work through unlearning that- it will show in your writing! One way is by pausing with yourself, and recognizing when you had a biased thought. Even by this, you’re learning!
Here’s where I want us to get into the thought experiment:
I want you to think about the description of characters in stories (as a whole). Challenge yourself- in the fics and stories you read, how often is anyone blatantly labeled 'White'? Read a story or fic; how long can you imagine them as not-White before it's ever clarified? Because not even 'pale' automatically implies a White person!
You know how I’ve mentioned before that 'Black people are not a monolith'? I can find you at least some examples of Black people fitting some of the common descriptions of white characters.
"Brunette with brown eyes"
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(Fun fact: I actually learned back in my Masters program that genetically no one has ‘black’ hair- our eyes are processing it as black, but it’s really just dark brown due to eumelanin. Regardless, if you stand us in the direct sunlight, you will see that our hair is usually just dark brown!)
"Red hair with pale skin"
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“‘tanned’ skin with hazel/green eyes”
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“blond hair" (period!)
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Now, I’m not saying that blond haired Black people or Black folk with albinism are overly representative of my people. What I AM saying is that it needs to not be taken for granted that a reader is automatically assuming a character is White in your piece of fiction- I can assume your character looks like anything if it's not stated! Especially if the OG source is a book or a podcast! We’re just used to assigning these features- and characters- as white until ‘proven not’! The default!
I am guilty of this too! Even still, I reread many of my works and go ‘ah, I didn’t clarify.’ And I have to work on doing better at it. This is having intent for your Black characters, but really, it’s having intent for all of them!
(This doesn't mean going “the Black man said,” the way sometimes people say “the Chinese said” (which…. Tbh we should all stop doing that anyway, it's weird and racist))
My Next Challenge:
Some people may disagree, but- Ahem:
Say BLACK!
Breathe lmao! Take the time to recognize that it's OKAY to introduce a character as Black, to say Black, it's fine! Obviously be sensitive about it, don't shove it in there to “win your diversity points”, but like… People are Black. It's not a bad word. What matters is the context in which you used it!
You don't even have to say it every single time. Really just the first, introductory sentence will do. For example:
“[Character A], a bright, young, Black girl with knotless braids to her mid back, glittering hair clips matching her bright green t-shirt, and a brilliant smile that shined against her bistre skin.”
I recognize that some might argue that by saying “bistre”, you don't need to say Black. But 1) you don't have to be Black to be brown or dark skinned, and 2) There's a social stigma behind even saying Black- of discussing race in general, because it leads to discomfort. Race (as a sociological construct) exists. When we say nothing about it, allowing Whiteness to be the default, we're still emphasizing race, however silently! If you're already doing it... Why not mention it? 🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️
(here's a good clip of Ijeoma Oluo discussing the difficulty of discussing race; while I highly recommend the whole thing, the relevant clip is 4:25-5:39)
Maybe they're in the Black student organization in a lead position, maybe they're in a Black main cast of a play- it's okay to have those things in the story to help develop the idea that your Black character is actively Black! Just do your research to make sure you’re not leaning into stereotypes!
“There’s no races in my fantasy/future world!”
That’s fair! But I want to give you an example of how people will still project these identities onto your characters anyway:
No one has an explicitly stated 'race' in Avatar: The Last Airbender (afaik); they’re all divided by element culture. YET, many people were offended that a mixed-Korean actress was cast in her role in the live action- they ‘just didn’t see it’, because subconsciously they'd imagined her ‘face claims’ as WHITE, despite it never once being mentioned in the canon! (there’s also a firm sexualization and east Asian fetishization argument to be made about it, but that’s not within the scope of this particular conversation.)
Point is, if you are including humanoid characters in your fantasy stories, fine. You don't need to say ‘Black’ outright. But, that just means that you’re going to have to be even more detailed in your description. Because if I were watching a TV show and a Black actor shows up as an elf… I know what features I’m seeing! Entire protests have occurred over the casting of Black actors in a role ‘meant for a white person’; so... everyone sees it!
Conclusion
This is another reason why intention in character design and writing is important! Context clues and socialization help me understand who your character is. If it works like this for white characters, it can work like that for everyone else! You just have to know enough about me to write it in (and that's where the social and societal bias lie, because how much do you really know about me?)
A way to better understand this is reading books by Black authors (for fantasy, I would highly recommend Raybearer by Jordan Ifueko and Children of Blood and Bone by Tomi Adeyemi) as well as Black literary classics! Finding and reading Black fic authors in fandoms with Black characters! By learning how we describe ourselves and our skin colors, you’ll learn and practice how to appropriately describe us!
Now I can't make you do any of this! But I do want you all- writers especially- to start noticing our bias, how we may default to the experience of whiteness- and how that affects the way we write. When we have Black characters, and really any character of color, we need to start paying attention to how often their features, culture, and activities are emphasized, even for what we may consider to be 'background' details. That’s how we normalize creation and understanding, and become better at writing!
It’s just something to practice; remember, it’s the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!
In addition, if you are interested in a simple read into why approaching race is so uncomfortable as a whole, I've attached Robin DiAngelo's book here! Thank you to the PDF guru @toiletpotato for the link!
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iluvmorales · 1 year
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12am lessons
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summary miles was distracted by his game, and you wanted attention as promised.
a/n short fic Thursday
scenario creds/og ⬇️ @idkwhatimdoingherehonestlyy
Miles had invited you over to chill, since he’d been so busy he hardly had time to give you the attention you deserved. You got there at 10, sitting next to him as he played his video games.
it was 12am now, you’d been laying on miles’ bed since 10, waiting for him to get off the game. It wasn’t often miles got to actually enjoy normal teenage things, so you didn’t want to interrupt the little time he had to play video games.
But what you didn’t realize was how your eyes had been boring a hole in the side of his face and your phone repeated the same video over and over again as he talked through the headset, occasionally yelling when his teammates would fail on the missions.
He raised the mic, muting it and without even sparing you a glance he spoke; “What’s wrong with you ma?” You snapped out of your mind, now realizing you’d been staring. You shrugged mumbling “I zoned out, my bad” you flipped your head the other way, clicking off your phone and closing your eyes.
Miles could tell you had a little attitude now, and he didn’t want his girl being mad at him for no reason. “Come over here” he reached one hand out to tap your leg that was above him on the bed.
You shuffled your leg away from his touch. A muffled nuh-uh coming from you as you hid your face in the pillow. “Ma I’m not gonna ask again” he set down his controller and slid off his headset.
You didn’t move, as you could hear him standing up. You jumped when you felt his hands flip you towards him, confused as to where he got this strength from.
Even now, you didn’t wanna talk to him; “go play your stupid game” you waved your hands, shooing him away. Miles smirked, now understanding why you were acting this way.
His hand grabbed your chin turning you to face him, gentle but rough enough to get you to stop fighting back.
“Let me teach you how to play mami” he leaned forward and left a kiss on your lips, your body instantly relaxed, as well as the small scowl and furrowed eyebrows on your face.
“No” you grabbed his wrist and moved his hand from your chin. You still held up your “attitude” only annoying miles further. He picked you up from the bed causing you to blush and yell swears about how if he didn’t put you down right now you would do some non-nice-girlfriend things to him.
He sat down back in his spot, with you on his lap. Now you were a quiet, flustered mess as you sat there staring at the screen. Miles knew his mom would freak if she ever saw you both in this position, but she was working a night shift at the hospital.
“Here put this on and hold the controller.” He slid the headset on you and his hands were on top of yours as you held the controller. He pulled the mic towards him, unmuting it; “my girl finna whoop y’all’s ass,” he smirked, instantly hearing the yells of protest.
“I know y’all just heard what I said” miles chimed in again, this time with a threatening tone. The rest of the night consisted of miles “teaching” you how to play, but in reality you both knew he was doing all the work.
But you didn’t mind, why ruin a perfect moment of intimacy?
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parfaitblogs · 15 days
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peace ❀ s. reid x reader
in which you self isolate, and spencer knows better than to let it get too bad. 
pairing: spencer reid x reader genre: hurt/comfort tags: established relationship. suicide ideation? ("i want it to end"). depression. lots of stuff that coincides with that. brief mention of reader not eating/having no food. please be aware of your triggers. i think i mention reader as a girl somewhere? word count: 1.9k a/n: i finished this then relistened to peace (taylor swift) which was the og inspo for this, and added a section in the middle so if it feels weird its because i failed at integrating it! this was supposed to be out two days ago. all my relationship insecurities in a fic. lol how embarrassing here's my heart tumblr dot com!! anyways enjoy ily all
also posted here on my ao3 !
Three consistent raps against your front door was the only sound that got you up that day, pyjamas that you had not shed from your body in a week hanging off a frame that could probably be described as lifeless — with the nearly dead-looking face to match.
In fact, the only thing to prove you were still a living human being aside from your movement, was the pink hue around your eyes, on your nose, and above your lips, indicating how much you had cried recently. 
Usually, it isn't this bad. You just need a day or two of rotting in your apartment and doing nothing but scrolling on your phone until it died, staring at the wall, or — on the better days — watching reruns of a 90s sitcom that you don't really watch. 
But it was exceptionally bad this time around, for some odd reason, and not one part of you actually wanted to get up and out of bed for long enough to be productive about your day. Your phone had died again, after charging it two days ago, which meant you were on day six of no communication with anybody. Which might partly be why it was so bad now. 
You had a blanket wrapped around your body, dragging against the floor as you wiped your eyes and let out a small sigh, unlocking your front door and opening it, completely unsurprised by the person standing on the other side. 
He was the only one who ever paid enough attention to your disappearing act when you were like this. 
His eyes softened at the sight of you — which is kind of amusing, considering you thought you looked like death reincarnate currently. 
Neither of you said anything as you stepped aside to allow him in, the door clicking shut behind him as he placed down the leather bag he had slung over his body, turning back to you as he finally allowed the frown to appear — one you knew he would've had the entire way here.
"Have you eaten today?" was the first thing to break the silence — the question coming out so gentle you were sure you'd break down again at some point in the next few seconds. 
You wordlessly shook your head, and he nodded his own, saying nothing else as he walked into your kitchen, knowing you'd trail behind him no matter what. 
He opened your fridge first, before closing it when he was greeted with the alarming sight of nothing. Doing the same with your pantry, at which he turned around to look at you.
"Angel, you have no food," he said. And while it held no malice in the tone of his voice, you could tell he was slightly annoyed at the fact. Your heart ached. 
"I know. I'm sorry," you mumbled, and his eyebrows creased inwards. 
He didn't mention your apology — arguing with you about your vast use of 'sorry's' is futile. "Do you want a pizza?" he asked instead, and even though you, mentally, did not, you knew he wasn't actually asking. So you only nodded your head, and found a place at your countertop, the blanket falling from your body and pooling to the ground in a heap.
He ordered a pizza, and then he was nudging your knees apart, standing between them while you stayed sat on a stool, his chin atop your head, that was buried into his chest. 
And he said nothing, as he held you like that until the pizza arrived. And then he ensured you had at least eaten two slices, the remainders going in your fridge for the next meal you needed to eat. 
He was so kind to you, with his every movement, as he dragged you into the bathroom to help you shower. 
It was heartbreaking, the love you could see in his eyes. The tenderness in every stroke of his fingers against your scalp as he washed your hair, the softness in his touch as he did the same to your body. He gently dried you, told you to stay there, disappeared, and returned with one of his many t-shirts left in your apartment drawers. 
That was when you cracked. When he pulled the shirt over your head, that smelled so painfully Spencer and you. The mix of his clean scent and your own laundry detergent that you were so accustomed to, triggering something in you.
So, you crumpled to the floor of your bathroom, and he followed soon after, his arms wrapped around your body once more, firm enough to keep you still as you sobbed into his chest. 
You weren't sure how long you stayed like that for. Long enough for your head to hurt, and your eyes to sting, and hideous snot bubbles to stain his cardigan. 
When your sobs subsided, he spoke. 
"You wanna talk about it?" he said, quietly, and you shook your head. 
"Don't know what to talk about," you mumbled, and he knew that all too well.
He nodded his own head. "Did something happen?"
"Lots of little things."
"Yeah? You wanna tell me about them?"
You hesitated, because you didn't know where to begin. But then you nodded your head wordlessly, swallowing the lump — and, by extension, the sob — in your throat. "I fell down on the stairs at the train station in front of everybody. And then I missed my stop, and I was late to work. And I had a huge project due, but I didn't finish it, and I forgot I hadn't finished it, and I was anxious about it all day. And I think my friends are just pretending to be my friends, because I keep trying to make plans with one of them, and she keeps blowing me off for her boyfriend. And I'm just really sick of being sad all the time, Spencer. I want it to end."
With the onslaught of your bad vignettes throughout the past month coming back up, you broke down, again. Another sob escaping your lips as you pushed your fists down into the tops of his thighs.
If it hurt, he didn't say anything; simply continued to hold you against his chest, on the floor of your bathroom, that, if it were any other time, he would be having a field day rambling about the germs you both were currently sitting on. 
He also didn't say anything for a while as you sobbed, instead his fingers entangled gently in your hair, and he peppered kisses along the top of your head. 
"I don't want it to end for you," he finally said. His hands slid down from your scalp to your face, holding your cheeks with such tender, pulling you back so he could look at you. 
You sniffled. "I'm so exhausted."
"I know, my love. I know," he sighed, thumbs caressing over your cheekbones. "Ending it won't fix that. You know, logically, however you die is the state you'll be in, in the afterlife. So if you die while you're exhausted..."
"You don't believe in the afterlife," you answer, but his words still cracked through your tearful expression, and your lips twitched with a small smile. 
He returned the small smile, nodding his head. "That's true. But I also don't know anything about post-death. I could be wrong."
"How terrible," you mutter, and he laughed, quietly. 
"I know," he mused, falling silent for a few moments longer, with only both of your quiet breathing to break the silence. 
His fingers ran through your hair once more, and you sniffled audibly, your brain wandering away from the small content you had felt in that exchange, and back to one of the many reasons why you had isolated in the first place. 
"Why are you still with me?" you said, slicing through the silence all at once. 
You watched the smile fall, and his eyebrows furrowed, and his lips part as he went — and hesitated — to say something. "What do you mean?"
"I'm difficult." Your voice is impossibly small, and it breaks a crack in his heart as his eyes soften. 
"No. You're not," he reassured. 
"Yes I am," you breathed out — and then the tears came back. "I get sad and then I stop responding and stop seeing you, and you don't get any warning even though I know you should, and I feel so awful every time but then that makes me feel worse. And I'm sad all the fucking time, Spencer. I mean, I get upset when you aren't at home and you have to deal with all those messages and calls even though you hate texting, but then you get home and I'm isolating myself because I'm sad, on top of all the other things that make me sad, and you deserve better. You deserve someone who can give you their all and—and—"
"Hey," he cut you off, as did the sob that was ripped from your throat. "No. That's not what we're going to do. Do not sit there and tell me what I do and don't deserve." 
"But you do deserve better."
"No," he sighed, resting his forehead on your own, warm breath fanning across your face that usually made you scrunch your face up and pull away, now comforting you. "Do you love me?"
"What? Yes, of course I do. Why would you even—"
"—That is the only requirement I have for you," he said, oh so simply. When you didn't reply, he pressed, "Okay?"
"Okay," you murmured, and he relaxes a little.
More silence fell between you, your tears subsiding and your shaking body relaxing a little more. 
Then, "Did you hurt yourself when you fell down?"
You nodded your head, reluctantly pulling back from him so you could show him. You pointed to a yellowing bruise just below your knee, and the grazes on the bottom halves of your palms. 
"Oh, wow. Look at these," Spencer said, running a thumb gently over the grazes on your hands. "You're braver than me. These would've taken me out."
You laughed, and you saw his face light up at the progress he was making with you, and your mood. 
He then pulled you back into his chest. More silence, but less anxiety, and you sat comfortably in his arms for a few moments longer. 
"Did I worry you?" you say. "Not responding?"
You were so close to him you could hear his breath hitch, and you prepared yourself for a lie about how he wasn't worried at all. Except; "Honestly? Yes."
"Oh."
He exhaled, shakily, and you were kind of glad he couldn't see your sadder expression, half-buried into his chest. 
"You've never gone that long without checking in," he then explained. "The first two days I got what was going on. By the fourth I figured you still needed space. Today I just had a gut feeling."
"Just a gut feeling?" you echoed, and you felt his head nod against your own. 
"Thought you might need someone."
You sighed. "I hate that you're a genius."
"No you don't."
"No, I don't."
His fingers entangled in your hair again. "I also didn't figure you needed me here because I'm a genius."
"No? Then how?" you asked.
"It's simple," he murmured, tugging your head back oh so gently so he could look at you again — puffy eyed, and tear-stained cheeks and all. "I just know."
"That's the most illogical sentence I've ever heard leave your mouth."
He laughed, and you smiled again.
"Come on," he then said, untangling your limbs and pulling the both of you up to your feet, hands ghosting your waist to hold you steady. "I am willing to sit through whatever awful movie you want me to watch."
your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡
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maythearo · 9 months
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" Welcome back to Night Raven College's 'Ghostly Gossip'! The school's unofficial main online source for the latest news, articles and trending topics circulating around campus! "
" attention attention! we interrupt this broadcast to inform all readers that the ghostly gossip team have at last caught the student responsible for all the (unauthorized) written remarks from previous entries! We sincerely apologize for the inconvenience! (although admittedly, he does not...) "
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Navigation:
R. Rosehearts ▪︎ T. Clover ▪︎ C. Diamond ▪︎ A. Trappola ▪︎ D. Spade ▪︎ L. Kingscholar ▪︎ R. Bucchi ▪︎ J. Howl ▪︎ A. Ashengrotto ▪︎ J. Leech ▪︎ F. Leech ▪︎ K. Al Asim ▪︎ J. Viper ▪︎ V. Schoenheit ▪︎ R. Hunt ▪︎ E. Felmier ▪︎ I. Shroud ▪︎ O. Shroud ▪︎ M. Draconia ▪︎ L. Vanrouge ▪︎ S. Zigvolt ▪︎ Silver
Design notes:
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This took way longer to post than I expected mainly because of imposter syndrome and constantly thinking I could do more for his entry but, I'll keep this as Ace's main style anyway. It's pretty simple compared to previous designs, but to be fair, devil Ace's personality and shenanigans would stand out enough to compensate for that matter LOL
As I said on Deuce's post, I wanted to connect their designs in some aspects, so yeah! Complementary color pallettes! That's why they both have few shades that stand out of their main monochrome colors, Deuce is blues and greens, while Ace stays around red and oranges!
Fashion-wise now, I initially pictured him pulling a lot more references from 80s men fashion, but ig by the end I accidentally strayed away from that and somehow incorporated a more "modern" influence to it? Man I'm very bad at describing the creative process and vibes of my designs but what else is new 😭😭 ANYWAYS, off topic but I should mention that, as you can see I'll throw in a high heel in any characters that give me the opportunity to do so, this one especially, I had Cleo's "dawn of the dance" heels in the back of my mind while designing, ( I forgot to include in the image above again 😔) which fun fact, was my first Monster High doll I got as a kid, so-!!! That's a shoe style that I'm very fond of KWDNWKSNSK
LORE DUMP TIME, ok so given each characters unique scare-itage, the way the cast interact with each other and build relationships could somehow differ from how they interact in og twisted wonderland! For example, since MH!Ace is THE devil from THE bible (/ref) he probably shares a common background, or have met Vil and Idia before they enrolled in MH!NRC together! That's such a funny thing to think about for me. Who would have thought they'd ever be a trio of great childhood friends?
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keerysfreckles · 6 months
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Maybe luke having a skincare day with aphrodit!reader? I’m in love with your stories 😭😭😭💕
rosy — luke castellan
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pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite fem!reader
warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns
a/n: the og mean girls musical soundtrack >>>
masterlist !
꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱
winter at camp half-blood couldn't be described easily. it snowed all around the camp, but never inside the barrier. yet somehow it was still cold. the snow pillowed around the barrier of the hill, and the white clouds just stayed just above the camp.
most campers went back to their homes after the summer, sometime in august. very few stayed. either to train, or just using camp as an excuse to stay away from their un-goldy parent.
nothing was different this year as most campers went home. some would say even less stayed at camp this year. three out of the twelve cabins were completely empty.
y/n l/n, daughter of aphrodite, made the choice to stay at camp this year. she couldn't take another year of her younger mortal brother bugging her 24/7 when she was home. her step-mother wasn't a cash prize either. she would always critize y/n, mostly for her looks and mannerisms. yes, y/n, daughter of aphrodite. the prettiest most breathtaking goddess' daughter, was being critized for her looks.
y/n knew she made the better choice once she found out luke castellan was staying at camp as well. the hermes cabin was always full, all year long. so luke found himself inside y/n's cabin more than his own.
this didn't change as luke was currently walking inside the cabin. he was always mesmerized by it. the whole cabin was light pink, with matching pink columns on each side of the porch. it was a taller cabin, having two stories. there were many engravings of cupid and hearts all over the outside walls. it was so different from hermes' all wood, traditional looking cabin.
luke enters the cabin, being met with even more pink. the two couches in the room where white, along with all the other furniture. the cabin was full of mirrors and more engravings of cupid.
"love?" luke called into the cabin. he knew y/n was at camp, he just wasn't sure where.
"upstairs!" y/n yelled. she was sitting at one of the vanity's upstairs, the one she claimed as her own in the summer. it was full of her own things. makeup, trinkets, jewelry – everything really.
luke walked up the short stairway and his heart warmed at the sight of his girlfriend. you heard right, girlfriend. the two camp counselors started dating in the summer of last year. luke protected y/n a bit more than the other campers when she was unclaimed. they didn't drift apart once she moved cabins either, which both were extremely grateful for.
luke took her out on a very cheesy picnic date at the end of summer, before y/n went home. he was nothing but a gentleman the whole time. of course he had to end the date with a kiss, which leads the couple where they are today.
"why aren't you outside with the others? all the apollo campers are putting on a play right now," luke drags an empty chair from another vanity and brings it towards y/n's.
the girl finishes wiping her face, removing the makeup she had on earlier in the day.
"i just wanted a self care day," she answered honestly, "everything just got so overwhelming after lunch."
luke nodded as he undertsood. he knows how loud the camp can be sometimes, even in it's deserted state.
he rested his head on y/n's shoulder and watched through the mirror as she put a green substance all over her face.
"what is that for?" luke asks curiously.
"it's a face mask, it helps clean your pores and help with wrinkles and ache," y/n responds, while rubbing the green mask on her forehead.
"let me do it with you," luke offers.
y/n turns with furrowed eyebrows, "what? why?"
luke shrugs, "it's something cute couples do, isn't it?"
"well, yes i guess so," y/n pauses to smile, "here, sit up straight."
luke does as she says, while the girl grabs the container and stands in between his legs.
luke finally notices she's wearing one of his shirts he must've left in the cabin in one of their many sleepovers. he thought it looked way better on her than it did on him.
the mask was cold when it touched luke's warm skin, making y/n mutter out a few sorry's before continuing. luke had his hands placed on her thigh's gently rubbing circles on her exposed skin. he never understood why she wore shorts as pajamas in the winter.
"why are you looking at me like that?" y/n wonders out loud. she's done putting the face mask on her boyfriend. she sets tge container down and wipes her hands on a towel, before placing her arms over luke's shoulders.
"what? i can't stare at my absolutely gorgeous girlfriend?" the two of them laugh. "i got lucky with you."
y/n blushes, and she swears luke's can see ut under the mask covering her skin.
"and i got lucky with you," y/n tells the hermes boy. she watches his smile only grow.
she then leans down to kiss luke's lips. they're as soft and as warm as ever. she wondered how they were always warm, especially in the winter. her fingers threaded through the curls at the base of his neck, earning a small moan from him. moments pass and y/n's bottom lip was now being pulled between luke's teeth.
y/n pulled away, knowing what luke wanted. she couldn't help but giggle at the whine coming from her boyfriend.
"we might have to get this mask off if we want to go any further, huh?"
y/n only giggled more as luke was quick to run to the cabin bathroom to wash the face mask off his face. y/n was quick to follow and once both of their faces were clean, luke pulled y/n to her bed.
"i love you," luke says in between kisses.
"i love you too," y/n stares at the boy for a moment, with nothing but adoration, before pulling him in for many more kisses.
789 notes · View notes
goaways-stuff · 7 months
Text
Sunshine's Baked Goods
Tim Bradford x gn!baker!reader
Summary: Long shifts rarely end in such wonderful things
Rating: PG, but I'm an 18+ page
Warnings: none! fluff. No physical descriptions of reader, just that they like pink.
a/n: requested! To the person who requested, I'm so sorry, tumblr deleted my og post & I lost the request & user. Please comment & I'll tag you!! Briefly looked over, but not Beta'd
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It was the morning after a long night shift, and all Tim wanted to do was go home and crash on the closest soft surface, but his stomach was ravenous for a bite to eat first. He tried to ignore it as he packed his stuff to go home, though he knew he would need something. 
It was still pretty early, the sun had barely risen, and not many places were open yet as he drove around, looking for something to eat. His stomach rumbled as he finally saw an open sign lit up. A small bakery right outside of town. His eyes were heavy as he stepped out, his senses overwhelmed with the sweet scent of fresh baked goods and…coffee? Oh, he had hit the jackpot. Definitely not his normal post shift snack choice, with the pink decor looking like a barbie puked on it, but it was open, and it smelled good.
The store was barren as he stepped in, the only sound was the little bell attached to the door, alerting you that a customer had come in. You furrowed your brows and looked up at the clock on the wall. Just past 6 in the morning. Yeah, you were open, but you never got customers this early. You just came in early to get a headstart on baking and decorating cakes. You wiped your hands, though you were sure you still had frosting stains somewhere on your body as you went out to the front with your signature customer service smile. 
“Good morning, what can I-” You were awestruck by the man standing in front of the counter. Tall, muscular, a hunk of a man. “...do for you.” You finished quickly, trying not to ogle. 
Tim looked over the small menu above you, seeing the variety of baked goods available. He looked in the glass, settling on a plain donut and black coffee. As you got a second look at him, you noticed the bags under his eyes and the look of exhaustion on his face and in his body.
“Do you want me to make that an espresso for you?” You asked as you rang him up.
“Not this time, thanks. ‘Bout to head home and crash.” He chuckled, the small smile lighting up the whole room, causing your heart to speed up. 
“Professionalism!” You reminded yourself as you nodded, ringing in the coffee as a water. It was your business, after all. A little discount for a nice customer every once in a while is just good customer service.  
You turned around, pouring a cup of the freshly brewed coffee and making sure to grab the best-looking donut. 
Tim swore to himself he saw you glancing at him. He tried to convince himself that he was just tired, and the attractive person behind the counter was just being polite. He couldn't help but glance back as he watched you make the coffee. And when he finally took the first sip, he swore you had to have put something extra in there. Perfectly brewed, smooth, not too bitter. The donut was soft and melted in his mouth. He thanked you and went on his way, sure that he was just so sleep deprived that he was imagining things. Imagining a connection.
But that didn't stop him from coming back. It became a regular thing after, especially long shifts. You always greeted him with a smile, but he swore again that there was an extra sparkle that wasn't there with other customers. The hot, grumpy man is what he became to you. All your employees made sure to get you when he came around. Though he was never rude, just quiet and to the point. 
You always made sure he had the freshest brew of coffee and the best donut, even if that meant going to the back to the warmer to get one. His order was so simple, yet perfection every single time. 
It was another late night, and you were getting ready to close shop when he came in. You smiled. It was easy to get annoyed when customers came in so close to closing, but you didn't care for him. He looked especially tired, so you brewed him a fresh coffee since you had already discarded the batch that had been sitting for a while. You took care to warm the donut up as something in your body pulled you to take a risk. As he sat down, you wrote your number down on the receipt, at the very bottom. You had to take a chance at some point.
You handed him his food. He always stayed to eat, though it never took him more than ten minutes. You went to the back to finish closing, not wanting to admit to yourself that you were too much of a coward to face him. He left as normal, and you were a little disheartened. Maybe he just didn't see it yet, you told yourself. Or maybe he's taken. Or maybe he just doesn't like you. You tried to calm your spiraling thoughts as you closed, turning off the pink neon open sign. 
You tried not to, but you checked your phone far too often that night, hoping for a text. It wasn't until the next afternoon when you got a text from a new number. You were over the moon, clutching the phone to your chest as your life played out like a movie. The chat ended with a date at a higher end restaurant across town that weekend. It was all you could think about that week. You hummed love songs and made more couple's themed cakes than normal. 
Even at the station, Tim's coworkers noticed his good mood. A little less harsh on all the “Tim Tests,” a little less snappy with his orders. It was the talk between all of his coworkers. 
Date night came, and you scrambled to pit yourself together. Everything about you had to be perfect. Pink accents complimented your outfit. He was even coming to pick you up like a true gentleman, a bouquet of pink roses in hand. So he picked up on that. 
You gracefully took his arm as he led you to his car, his hand right above your knee the whole way. Protective but gentle, not wanting to push any boundaries. He smiled the whole time, more than you had ever seen him before. 
And, of course, the night went great, starting off with the essentials of getting to know each other, but diving a little deeper into what the both of you are looking for in a relationship. He had you giddy the whole night, drowning you in compliments, giving a pink flush to your face. You were no stranger to the flirtations either, compliments flowing about his suit, his freshly cut hair, and how it enhanced his sharp features. 
Your heart fluttered from the butterflies flying in your stomach the whole night, and a longing for more had already set in before the night had ended. He drove you home, walking you to your door step.
“So, next Friday?” He smiled, wanting to hear the reassurance for the next date.
“Yep.” You responded, hearts for eyes. He looked at you, his eyes soft, flashing to your lips, plush and strawberry tinted. It aas a moment of silence, but not the awkward kind. It was filled with tension, begging for one of you to break it. Ultimately, he brought a hand to your face, rough and calloused with a gentle touch, bring you to him as he connected his lips to yours. For such a brooding guy, his lips were soft as ever, lovingly exploring yours. You hands wrapped around his neck as his other hand made it to your waist. It lasted forever but not long enough as you had to pull away for a breath of hair. He followed up with a small peck to the lips and a confident smile. 
“I'll see you then,” He said, though you both knew he'd be coming to the shop before then. 
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sir-kuroo · 11 months
Text
.—♡ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐅 𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐔𝐓 { IWAIZUMI HAJIME }
IWA-CHAN has one temptation he cannot resist and it’s you…his best friend’s younger sister; a repost from my og blog
𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒 ⋮ f!reader, fingering, pussy eating, ass squeezing and some risky position c/o iwa-chan 🙈💦, creampie, dacryphilia, softdom iwa-chan, petname: angel
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Hajime had his arms folded, fists clenched and so was his jaw as he watched you bend over while you pick up your jug of water. Your ass on that yoga pants almost hid nothing for his imagination. Not to mention that the tightness of that pants outlined the shape of your pussy.
Shit!
It’s all that shittykawa’s fault! He was the one who’s supposed to work out with you today because he’s finally on vacation in Japan for a while.
This was supposed to be a big brother and little sis bonding time but he phoned early in the morning….“Iwa-chan can you work out with Y/N-chan today….blah blah blah” What a silly excuse he gave!
But Hajime didn’t want to let you down. Not you. He didn’t want to see you upset, so he’d willingly stand in for your brother on this work out he promised.
“Are we done?” You asked, your face flushed from the sweating and it caught him off guard a little.
“Ah, yes.”
Hajime scolded himself as you both walked to your home. You’re his best friend’s little sister! What was he even thinking? Not that you’re a minor or whatever.
Ever since you were younger, Hajime saw you as his little sister too, but things started changing when Oikawa left for Argentina and Hajime went back home from the U.S.
He was surprised that you’re no longer the little girl he once thought you were.
Damn! You grew up so fine that you had been an excruciating forbidden fruit for him to bear. He couldn't help but admire you everytime your mom would invite him for a dinner in your home every weekends.
He felt guilty at times that whenever he would stroke himself an image of you would pop out in his head. His best friend's little- no, scratch that- younger sister.
You didn't seem little anymore.
“Do you wanna have some tea?” You invited him in and he obliged. “Oh, mom's not here by the way but she left something for you.”
“Huh? So who’s home?” He asked, abruptly.
You placed your bottle atop the table. “No one. Just us, I think.”
Oh shit. This was a mistake.
“Just get yourself comfy.” You chuckled. “I’ll just change my shirt and will get right back with your tea.”
“Yeah, sure…” He smiled at you as you headed into your room. As soon as you were gone, he ran a hand on his face.
What was he doing here alone with you?
Suddenly, he was alarmed when he heard a pained sound from you. Immediately, he rushed up to your room to check on you. He couldn’t let anything happen to you.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, standing outside your bedroom with a worried look on his face. Your door was slightly open hence he could see you inspecting your back in the mirror.
“Oh, it’s nothing. Just a lower back pain. Maybe because it had been so long since I last worked out that hard.” You reassured him touching the area where it stung while looking at it in the mirror.
Hajime went behind you to see for himself. “Where does it hurt?”
Your breathing started to get heavier than before as he stood right behind you so close. “H-Here…” You pointed out the area under your shirt just above your hip.
His rough hand gently caressed your skin. You gasped.
“Here?” He asked, voice now raspy and almost breathless.
“Yes…”
He continued massaging you gently. His hand soothingly rubbing in circles. His warmth and pressure made you moan uncontrollably. Your eyes met through the mirror as you both breathed raggedly. Your gazes were filled with helplessness, need. and lust.
You both gulped.
“H-He’ll kill me if I-” Hajime tried but he could no longer rationalize as you already stepped backward and had your ass pressed against his now hardened cock straining against his sweatpants.
“Fuck it!” He said under his breath as you leaned yourself back on his sturdy body.
Your body moved on its own without thinking. It's Iwaizumi Hajime we were talking about. It had been years since you were admiring him from afar as you thought he couldn't see you more than being his best friend's younger sister.
However, with the way his eyes lustfully raked your body all this time this morning, you knew that you're no longer a little sister in his eyes anymore.
His hand now roam under your yoga pants and your panties, finding its way hot on your skin. Massaging your ass, he breathed against your ear. “You sure you want to do this?"
You nodded your head. "Yes, please," you said, almost running out of breath.
"Then tell me where else does it hurt, angel?” He whispered.
You whimpered and ground against his erection. From your ass cheek, he slowly traveled his hand in between your thighs. “Here? Tell me. Does it ache here too?”
You nodded your head and tilted it back once he began massaging the lips of your pussy with the friction of his rough fingers. Finding out you were so wet for him already, he gained confidence that it wasn’t just him feeling this bothered all along. “I see…you’ve been aching this much, huh?”
Your hand flew up to reach his head from behind you now giving him access for a kiss. He wasted no chance and immediately tasted your lips. His tongue making its way inside your mouth and his fingers starting to explore your folds, tracing your slit and teasing your clit.
You moaned against his mouth and ground even harder against him, which made him groan.
Not being able to contain it any further, he completely pulled down your bottoms. “Face here.” He ordered and you followed. He knelt in front of you and gasped once he’s face to face with your cunt glistening with arousal. “So pretty.” He murmured as his hands parted your thighs. His mouth met your folds and his tongue circled round and round on your clit.
“Hmmn, ahhh,” you cried out and it encouraged him to go faster and press even harder to please you even more.
Grabbing your thigh, he wrapped your leg around his shoulder. You tugged on the strands of his hair, finding balance as he drank you deep. His other hand clenching and unclenching your ass repetitively.
God, you’re just dripping for him that he could drink you bottomless. This alone made it harder for him not to come just by going down on you.
It wasn’t enough though. It never would be, so he hooked another of your leg around his shoulder. His biceps bulged as he stood up, carrying you and eating you out at the same time with his hold on your thighs strong and firm.
You yelped as he held you up high with his tongue and lips focused on consuming you. Your heart raced even faster in this position. Both of your hands gripped on his hair as your hips involuntarily gyrate against his mouth while attempting not to fall. His hand squeezing your ass, he'd probably leave a mark there.
Endlessly, you moaned and whimpered. Your brother might come home anytime but it didn’t really matter now. All you could think of was Hajime’s strong grip on you and his skillful sucking and slurping.
“Aaah…ah! Ah! I’m coming! I-I’m-“
With ease, he threw you in your bed.
Just by the feral look in his eyes as he wiped off his chin with the back of his hand, just with the way his muscular chest heaved from his heavy breathing and just from the way your throat felt dry by seeing how hard his cock had gotten through his pants, you knew.
You knew you were just about to begin.
“Not yet, angel.” He knelt between your parted legs and took his shirt off. “We’re not done yet.”
Your eyes were stuck on the plane of his well-sculpted chest. The sweat that crawled down from his skin made you lick your lips involuntarily. If only your brother wasn’t about to come home anytime, you’d take time getting a taste of Hajime.
Holding your chin, he made you look up at him and took your lips to his. So fuckin’ sexy. Just how he imagined devouring those lips for so long with your tongues entwined with each other like this. While you were busy getting lost in the kiss, he took your hand and pressed it over his sweatpants just right where you could feel him throbbing big and hard for you.
“You feel that?” He breathed against your cheek. “Tell me you want it.”
Feeling tingly in between your thighs, all you could do was nod in response.
“Use your words, angel.” He commanded
Breathlessly, “I…want you please.”
He shifted his pants down and you gasped at the sight of his cock from beneath. You never thought he would be that rock hard so sturdy and huge, but your pussy couldn’t wait to receive him. He parted your legs further. Damn! You’re so wet and it did make his cock twitch. He never felt so needy and hot like this before.
“I’m going in. You ready?” He asked and you nodded your head. “Okay…take a deep breath, angel. That’s right. Very good.”
“Hnghh!” You both winced at the very moment he slid his full length inside of you.
“Did you…Did you just come for me angel?”
You nodded your head and whimpered. You were still sensitive but he started easing in so slow. You clung around his shoulder but you soon found your nails digging his back as he began to hasten.
Fuck! He’s hitting you so deep. You’re so deep and tight, squeezing his girth so snug. “Ahh, shit! Feels so good, angel.” He chanted under his breath. “So long…” Thrust. “I’ve been wanting to do this.”
He swore he tried to be gentle with you, but with you moaning his name like you needed more, he couldn’t help but lose himself. The more he pushed and pull from you, the more he wanted to do it faster, rougher, harder.
“Hah…Ha…Hajime, ahhh~”
Still, he wanted to know if you’re in the same page. After all, you’re his now. “What do you want? Tell me. Now.” He growled.
“M-More…everythingh-“
“Fuck!” There’s no stopping him now. He pulled away from you, kneeling. He raised your legs up high and opened you up wide in a V, gripping your ankles with his strong hands. His cock slammed back inside so deep in you that you spilled a tear or two. You tried to cover your cries but had to hold on to your sheets or you might end up floating.
Groan and growls were escaping him and his jaw was clenched while he pounded you rapidly like he’s in a marathon.
Come to think of it, your bedroom door’s damn wide open. With the way you were screaming his name, the whole neighborhood probably knew that he was fucking his best friend’s sweet little sister like it’s a fucking work out.
Damn! This was a whole lot better than a work out. He couldn’t even remember that he could fuck full force like this. His hips plunging hard that you were sliding further and further at the very edge of your bed. Both of your skins now red with all the slapping.
You’re now feeling light-headed and you knew you’d completely lose it any moment now. “Haah…Hah Haji-“
“Y/N-chan! Yohooo! Can you please open the door for me? I know you’re there. Your lights are on. Forgot my keys!”
Shit! He’s here!
Much to your surprise, instead of slowing down, Hajime pressed your legs together, bringing them to his right shoulder and hugged them as he fucked you harder. Last thing he wanted, was to hear Oikawa’s yapping while fucking you.
“Y/N-chan?! Where are you?”
“Wait- Wait!” You moaned loudly. The more your brother called out for you and whined outside the rougher Hajime was doing it.
“Y/N-chan, faster~” Tooru yelled from the outside.
Faster huh? Letting go of your legs, he grabbed your waist sliding your body to meet his increased speed. He couldn’t care. Not anymore.
Deep. He was in so deep you could feel him almost reaching your belly. “Yes! Yes! Aaaah, mhmmn coming!” You screamed and quivered. “I-I’m coming!”
Hajime kept his pace finding his own release. Shit! Condoms!
“Fuck! Shit, angel!” He hissed not being able to control himself anymore, spilling his cum inside you. Never mind. Never fucking mind! Oikawa fucking Tooru may as well expect not only a best friend from him but a nephew or a niece too.
You both caught up with your breaths, but it was him who managed to get up first as you laid there limping. He covered your almost bare body with a blanket and kissed your forehead, the tip of your nose and finally your lips. “I’ll take care of your annoying brother.”
Oikawa looked so shocked to see his best friend open the door instead his sister. Hajime really wanted to see how he’d react.
“Iwa-chan? What’re you doing here? Oh, you went to see me? Do you miss me that much? We just hang around yesterday.”
Not really, I just fucked your sister so good my fingers were probably imprinted around her waist and ankles. “I just waited for you so that Y/N won’t be alone at home.”
“Wow, I never thought you’d make such a caring big brother, Iwa-chan.”
You bet your ass I’m big and your sister knows it so well.
He might blurt what happened out, but he’s really trying his best to include your consideration in this as well. After all this wasn’t just about him, but damn! This was harder than he thought. Oikawa’s so good at reading people.
Before Hajime could give himself away with Tooru finally starting to become suspicious, you arrived just in time.
You approached him almost tripping, but he caught you in his arms. You couldn’t walk well yet. Your legs still felt like crumbling.
“An- Y/N are you alright?” He asked, concern.
“I just like to thank you and see you off.”
“Do you hurt anywhere?”
“I’m fine. Well, it was just…so intense.” You reasoned out with a reddened face.
He chuckled and smiled gently at you. “Don’t worry. Let’s take it slow next time, okay?” If only Tooru wasn’t watching, he’d definitely kiss your forehead.
“N-Next time?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, yeah I’m free everyweek.”
“I am too.” You grinned in anticipation. “I’m okay with everyweek.”
“Y/N-chan, come on now!”
Hajime swore at that time that on Tooru’s next vacation he’d be welcomed by his new nephew or niece. Might as well both.
“Okay, go on and rest now. You must be worked up.” Fuck! He really wanted to give you a kiss, but… He raised his head and waved at your brother who’s watching keenly, “I’ll just chat with you, bro.”
Bro? Tooru quirked up an eyebrow.
As soon as he turned his back, Hajime grinned. He totally did that on purpose. Once Tooru finally return to Argentina, it won’t only be every week.
JOIN THE 🍷 𝐄𝐗𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄! Get tagged whenever I update ♡
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© nekorei 2023 - All rights reserved. No work shall be reproduced, reposted, modified, translated in any form or by any means.
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4ttack-ur-heart · 11 months
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Flock of Birds
Pairing: levi x gn! Reader
Summary: You’re injured, disoriented, and alone in the middle of the forest with your thoughts. The rest of the Levi squad is dead. You’re hoping death comes sooner rather than later, but luckily your Captain finds you in time.
Warnings: angst, descriptions of violence, reader hoping for death, happy ending.
**something to get me back into writing, and apparently symbolism is hard for me to write. Takes place during season 2 and reader is apart of his og squad.
Their relationship can be read as romantic or platonic, it’s not really specified.
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The birds never looked so free. A small flock flew above you in the typical ‘v’ form. Sasha said they do that to keep track of each other. To keep each other safe while migrating and make sure no one gets left behind. Were they ducks? No, no, they had to be crows. Maybe they’re- who cares?
You’re mind was fuzzy.
Vision was blurry.
And of course it had to be raining.
But… the sun was out and the sky was clear.
Then why was water running down your face? The slow tickle of the liquid trailed down your face and down your jaw until it fell on your white pants.
Blood.
Oh. That explains it.
How long have you been out here? What time was it.. what day was it?
The ringing in your ear slowly dissipates and your vision starts to clear. You’re sitting down.
Why? Captain Levi gave you and the rest of his squad orders to stop the Female Titan. This isn’t making any sense.
Where was Petra? Eld?
God, your head hurts.
Maybe they found their flock of birds and flew to safety? But without you?
Nothing makes sense.
All you can see are trees, granted you can’t even move your head around fully. But, the Scouts are in titan territory, this was no time to be sitting.
You try to move your legs that sprawled in front of you, but the small movement makes you release a strangled cry.
Oh. It’s all coming back now.
Your squad, no, Levi’s squad… they’re all gone.
The female Titan elbowed you while going after the others. You must’ve hit the tree and only suffered a few broken bones before you went unconscious.
Perfect.
The sun was starting to get lower in the sky and you realize the scouts must’ve made their way back hours ago.
A small and bitter laugh escaped you. This is how you die? Alone and surrounded by the corpses of your comrades? What a sick world.
Maybe, just maybe if you close your eyes, you won’t wake up. The painful yearning for death in your sleep was no more than a miracle. And miracles don’t happen. Not in this life.
No, a Titan is bound to grab you at any moment, squeezing your body in its hand until your bones crack and blood is pouring out of your mouth. Death only comes once its teeth bite down on your skull.
That’s how you’re supposed to die.
Then why weren’t there any titans?
Not that you minded, but it was very peculiar. This was prime Titan country and you should’ve been dead before you’ve even woken up.
A faint noise catches your attention. That sounds like… odm gear.
With your rotten luck, they’ll fly past you, not noticing you’re still alive. Thin tears leaked from your dehydrated body. You’ll have to suffer a cold night by yourself, then get plucked off the ground by a Titan once dawn approaches. If you’re lucky, you’ll die during the night.
“Captain!”
A voice shouted out as the odm gear sounded a lot closer now. It was a female voice.
Was it Krista? No, her voice is too soft.
Sasha? No, it couldn’t be.
“Captain, they’re alive!”
Oh, it was Mikasa. She was cool.
Thumps and the sound of the twigs and leaves snapping as the two made their way over to you.
Which Captain was it?
Wait, wasn’t there only one Captain?
Yes, he wasn’t just your Captain, he was your squad leader.
Your head tilted to the side and through half-lidded eyes, you saw Captain Levi standing there in shock. Mikasa quickly rushes over to you and scans you for any lethal wounds.
“T-they hit their head pretty hard it looks like.” She says with tears brimming her eyes. Levi finally snaps out of it and remembers his authority.
“Scan the area for any Titans until I get them on one of the branches.” Levi crouches down in front of you as Mikasa leaves. “Hey, hey, can you hear me?”
His hands carefully grasp at your face to steady your head. “Y/l/n, I asked you a question.” Your eyes locked with his. The sharp grey eyes bore into yours just like so many other times, but this time you could tell there was a sense of longing and concern within them. Your hand reaches out to grasp the wings of freedom patch on the shoulder of his jacket.
That’s when your emotions took over. Tears leaked from your eyes and you gave out a cry. “I’m s-so sorry, Captain. We t-tried to stop her.”
The disappointment in yourself rang through your body. You were still alive. Everyone else was dead. So why you? You were the first one down and couldn’t even follow your captains orders.
“Shut the hell up.” Levi interrupts your thoughts.
“You’re alive. That’s all that matters.” He breathes out and rests his forehead on yours. “Thank god.”
More tears. “B-but the others-”
“We can mourn when we’re all safe. Right now, we have to get you out of here.”
Levi takes out a roll of bandages and starts to bind them against your head wound. “Don’t die on me yet, kid.”
“I’m only a few years younger than you.” You gave him a weak smile.
“Save your energy, brat.”
There’s the Captain you know.
Once he bandages your wounds, he sets his arms under you to carry you. You let out a small cry at the movement of your leg.
“Shit.” He mutters and moves to take off his cloak. “There’s nothing I can do for the pain. Just hold on until we can get to the wagons.”
“Okay.”
His thumb wipes away a few of your tears and he rips a strip off his cloak and rolls it up. “We can’t have that loud mouth of yours attracting more of those ugly bastards.” He hold it up to your mouth.
“Bite.”
The cloth is pressed between your teeth and acts as a bite guard.
You couldn’t help the muffled groans of pain as he lifted your body up. He tied more pieces of his cloak around you both to act as a harness so you were strapped to his back.
“You alright?” Levi asked once he stood up. He only got a muffled grunt in response.
Without another word, he took off into the trees.
“Mikasa, let’s go! We’re meeting up with the others.”
The other scout soon joined you two and she gave you a worried glance.
Your arms were limply resting around Levi’s neck as he moved and your head turns to the side.
Birds flew next to you.
“To keep each other safe.” Sasha’s voice rang out in your head. “When my dad was teaching me to hunt, I always wondered why birds flew like that, too.”
“Aw, so they’re looking out for each other?” You asked, splitting your slice of bread in half and handing it to her. “That’s cute.”
She eagerly took it, “Yeah! It’s to make sure no one gets left behind and makes communicating easier.”
Who knew one of Sasha’s old stories would play through your mind at a time like this.
Levi landed on his horse and was careful with you and his own injured leg. The forest was becoming smaller and you could see the walls in the distance.
You’re gonna be okay.
Levi’s hand gripped both of yours around his neck and he held the reigns in the other.
Sorry fate, you weren’t getting left behind this time. Maybe miracles do happen. You might have lost some along the way, but the birds must stick together, especially in this world.
———
Taglist: @laylasbunbunny @sad-darksoul @cullenswife
(If you wanna be added or removed, lmk!!)
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theenbynightingale · 29 days
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Okay, we all know Riley is 13. This is established in the movie several times. But did we ever get confirmation that Val is 18 other than a now-deleted tweet from an account that may or may not still be up (I couldn't find it. Again, OG tweet was deleted) that people said was from by someone who worked at Pixar?
I believer it back in March but now that I'm looking at all the clues, it seems kinda dubious. Granted, shipping Riley and Val would probably be a little weird if we never saw that tweet because Val would logically have to be at least two grades above Riley if she made Captain during Freshman Year (Unless she was such a hockey prodigy that she's about to go into her Sophomore Year. And that's a giant "if").
I think the biggest reason I'm asking this is because of the movie's art book. We get all this info about her, yet we don't even really know what year she's going into.
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But I just wanna say this. This isn't me trying to argue about. I'm just genuinely curious about Val's age. This isn't a ship thing. There's probably still a sizable age gap between her and Riley (in high school years) If Val isn't 18, she's probably about to be. Like I said, there's a near-zero chance of her actually being a sophomore during the epilogue. The curiosity mainly stems from me seeing the discussions in posts when I'm going through the Inside Out tag. I'm not annoyed by it. My interest has just been piqued. So if anyone has an answer or knows who the original tweeter was... tell me, I guess?
I dunno. I'm bad at endings. Sorry for rambling.
UPDATE!
I asked Dave Holstein (co-writer of the film) on twitter if there was an official age for Val and he said...
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Official. For at least a majority of the film, Val is 17. Pack it up! (I stand by my earlier statements about the age gap. Freshman and Junior or Senior is kinda weird)
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orbital-inclination · 3 months
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Moltendreams - Error Sans Alias - Static Pronouns: he/him, they/them Personality: Petty, holds a mean grudge, Big Tsundere, Complete Shut-in, Quick Tempered and Moody, fanatic with his interests, externally aggressive when in actuality he is quite shy. An absolute troll. His favorite passtime is messing with others. Paradoxically touch starved and suffers from haphephobia. Reckless with his own well being.
This variant of Error is capable of both love and compassion, he just hides it under a grumpy exterior and several layers of denial and self-destructive dogma. Other Notes:
He is reluctant to harm Papyrus directly, and will generally avoid encounters with him in any given AU.
Had a good relationship with his dad/W.D Gaster, actually.
Relates to "pest" pets; rats, mice, snakes, spiders, beetles, he loves them all.
Would have a pet rat of his own if he wasn't afraid of it shocking itself by chewing on his wires.
His favorite kind of chocolate is mixed with a hazelnut filling.
Considers Frisk to be a younger sibling.
-More Info undercut! -
Abilities: Error uses wire instead of string. Wire and summoned attacks can and do hold an electric charge. His presence alone messes with electronic devices. Residents of a particular AU may get a few minutes or seconds of warning as sweaters get staticy, computer screens glitch out, and anything with a battery spontaneously dies or gets super charged. By creating a circle of alternating RED and CYAN bones, Error can create a sort of reverse faraday cage. While Error can produce electricity, he can't directly control the voltage. He can only hope to direct it. If you do touch him, you will find his clothes zappy with static. Do NOT attempt to fight him in humid or watery environments for, hopefully, obvious reasons.
About: Fed up with the anomaly's time looping shenanigans and watching his family torn apart, Sans injected himself with modified DETERMINATION magic and began messing with things he really had no business messing with: his late father's research, all in the hope of separating the anomaly from Frisk. He wanted to save the kid too. But something went catastrophically wrong and as a result he was ripped from reality, and caught in the space in-between. Eventually, he escaped but not unscathed. Error doesn't remember much, he doesn't remember the events described above, at all, but has vague memories of Papyrus, Frisk and his father. They were good memories. He misses them. He can't find his original AU and secretly fears it may have been the first world he destroyed.
He is still looking for it.
Outcode Politics: Error views all outcodes the same way he views every iteration of the original timeline that even slightly deviates: as glitches to be terminated. Bugs in the code he needs to hammer out before it all goes to hell. Error believes that by destroying deviating timelines and AUs, he is preserving the original. He is “saving’’ it by trimming the branches back. Despite his position as the self proclaimed Destroyer, Error is not above biases and making exceptions. 
Error believes he is one of the glitches in the code that must be destroyed, but he won’t let just anyone dust him for good. Ultimately, he wants someone in his family to do it. That is, if he can find them first. Error has a different view on the Spirits of Creation that Fable/Ink does. (Spirits of Creation are in-universe term and stand-in for the creator of an AU). He calls them eldritch parasites. Abominations that should be avoided at all costs. And absolutely should not be encouraged or interacted with. Though he won't admit it out loud, Error is terrified of them. OG Error @.LoverofPiggies/CrayonQueen) Moltendreams @.me Edit: he has been named!
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