#worries me a little because i may have to round it which i don't really want to do.

[lovelaceisntdead]

The binding of Mabel has Begun.

[superblysubpar]

Sincerely, Yours:

bestfriend!steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: a movie night, a confession, an offer, your Calvin's bunched up on the floor of your best friend's BMW...and other places | 18+ Only, NSFW | main menu

the song: Don't You (Forget About Me) by Simple Minds - all of steve's music

6.6k words

warnings: "inexperienced" reader - in the form of never really making out/receiving none/not great foreplay - masturbating for comfort/ease before sex, SMUT (public - in the back of Steve's car - "caught" by Hopper when you're done, oral, fingering, steve cums in his levi's cause I'm a sucker for doing this to him, what can I say?)

A/N: Once upon a time, I asked for requests, and I failed to fulfill many of them (you may have heard this story before), but this one sat in the drafts for many many months, and then I really chickened out posting it for a long time. Everyone say thanks to @palmtreesx3 - I owe her and the request for the prompt "we're not really just best friends, are we?"(which isn't even used in this, but you get the picture) and The Breakfast Club for this fic 💛

He didn’t hear it at first, over the last remaining popping kernels. 

“What?” He called around a mouthful of the snack he was already dipping into before it was finished. 

In the other room, your attention was strictly on Judd Nelson, but you tried again, with no real power or meaning behind the words. 

“Want me to pause it?”

“No,” he shook his head and rolled his eyes to no one but himself in the kitchen, “Don’t think you need to pause the movie I’ve seen three times…this week.”

“I’d love one, thanks!”

Steve snorted at your response that made no sense, it becoming apparent you weren’t listening to him at all.  He should have known this was his fate after the way you acted when it was showing at The Hawk. You saw it with him, then Robin, then Nancy, and Steve put his foot down when you tried to drag him down there for a fourth time.

Now here he was, dumping the popcorn into a large bowl and watching it again. He didn’t even know what number of views he was on with you, which had him worried about your sanity, ‘cause you had to be watching it without him too. 

Steve snagged two cans of Coke out of the fridge, assuming that’s what you’d love one of, and kicked the door closed with his heel. 

He cradled the popcorn bowl against his side and held each of the cans with one hand and spread fingers, socked feet slipping on the hardwoods when he rounded the corner and saw you again. 

Despite becoming incredibly bored by the movie, he did love watching you watch it, because somehow, it’s as if you’re watching it for the first time every time. 

Your white tube socks were stark against the dark wood of the coffee table, bunching around your ankles that led him to the exposed skin of your calves. Which led to the way your blue skirt fanned over your thighs all nice, then the Queen shirt he got you for your birthday tucked into it, your thumb between your teeth with your eyebrows bunched together. 

His best friend was really fucking pretty. 

He almost said it out loud, which had him flopping onto the couch a little quickly, a little too heavy with his fall. Careless in his aim of the cushion and causing popcorn to spill from the bowl into your lap as his shoulder jostled yours. 

Before he could even say sorry, you were grabbing the popcorn from your lap like it was the bowl, blissfully unaware it wasn’t, all the while making heart eyes at dreamy Bender.

“Thanks,” your appreciation came out heavy around the buttery and salty handful of the snack, the Coke you’d love sitting on the coffee table, already forgotten.

Steve hummed, his amused lips twitched in a losing fight against a smile at your captivated stare fixated on the screen. He suppressed an eye roll at the scene about to happen, as he swiped condensation off the cool metal of the can with his thumb. 

He popped the drink open with a loud hiss, slurping his first sip - a habit you’d normally swat at his chest for - but you were too busy focusing on the words about to leave Judd’s mouth. 

“Have you ever kissed a boy on the mouth?”

They sort of just tumbled out of Steve too, while his eyes glanced over the popcorn bowl, searching for a perfectly buttery piece. Which is why he didn’t see that he, your best friend, quoting the scene that has dialogue that got you all hot and bothered more than others, had your entire body freezing. 

Steve tossed the acquired piece into the air, catching it in his mouth before he turned to face your profile. He found you with widened eyes, chest rising and falling a little too quickly, and he grinned. 

“Have you ever been felt up…over the bra…under the blouse…your shoes off, hoping to god your parents don’t walk in?”

He’s simply delighted when he quotes the scene again and your body shifts, toes curling as you arched your neck away from. You kept your eyes on the screen, not giving him the satisfaction of eye contact because of what he was slowly, finally, realizing.

You were totally turned on and he couldn’t wait to tease you about it forever.

Steve leaned in closer, whispering along with the movie, “Over the panties…no bra…blouse unbuttoned…Calvin’s in a ball on the front seat past eleven on a school night?”

He’s gearing up, about to tease you, make some dumb boy comment about being hot for the school freak, when your quiet, barely a breath response had him pausing. 

“No.”

Did you just say that out loud?!

Your head turned to find Steve blinking at you, creases in his forehead deepening beneath the stray locks of hair that fell forward. 

Looks like you did.

“Ste-”

“What? What do you mean no?”

Your eyes closed when you both spoke at the same time, avoiding his curious stare. Hands roamed to your cheeks to hide your face as your head fell towards your knees. 

As you shook your head no, your response gets muffled into your skirt. “I meant no.”

Steve’s hand nudged at your shoulder, prodding for clarity and for you to sit up. He failed to sound casual when his question came out incredulously.

“No, you’ve never kissed a guy?”

Your hands still covered your face as you fell back against the couch with a groan, “No, I..I have. I just…”

Steve pulled at your hands, his heart racing like it was overtime. All these years, he thought you’d been with all these other guys, his quiet jealousy seething under the surface of his tinged green from envy skin. 

A breath, well, more of a huff really, slipped past your lips as your gaze dropped to the hands holding yours in your lap. “I’ve never really made out with anyone? Just like…a quick kiss or two. I don’t even know, can you even count it as kissing? Over before it starts kind of thing…”

The ramble trailed off, the room silent save for the movie still playing and the giant, loud, big, fat, zero response from Steve. You counted the threads in the carpet, the pieces of popcorn in the bowl as your skin grew hotter and hotter from the reveal he’s left just hanging there until he  finally sputtered out a sorry excuse for one.

“Are you shitting me? We’re like…old.”

It doesn’t come out how he meant it to at all, he’s just shocked. He’s wincing almost immediately as the words reach his ears and brain, he knows how it sounded. He wishes he could take it back when your head whips up, hurt eyes meeting his as you ripped your hands away from him. 

“Yeah, Steve,” you scoffed, jaw pulsing as your voice dripped with sarcasm that tried to cover  the embarrassment, “I’m shitting you. Thought it’d be real funny to trick you into thinking your best friend is a loser who’s barely been kissed even though she’s so old.”

Pieces of popcorn fell from your lap as you stood, not letting yourself wonder where they came from as you stomped around the coffee table and towards his entryway. 

“No, honey, wait-” he stumbled after you, spilling Coke down the front of his shirt as he did, “Shit.”

He patted at his chest like it’d do anything, shirt damp and sticking to his skin as he rounded the corner and found you lacing up your converse and shaking your head. 

“It’s fine, Steve. I’m fine. I just don’t feel like talking about it. I’m gonna go home. Don’t worry about it. Girl stuff.”

“No, please, I didn’t mean-”

His words stopped just as abruptly as your body, when the front door swung open to reveal an out of nowhere downpour. 

Your head fell as you started to ask, and he was already one step ahead of you.

“Can you please-”

“I’ll grab my keys.”

He was tripping up his stairs by the time he finished saying it. When he returned, it was in a clean shirt, jumping from the second to last step as he swirled the keys around his pointer finger. 

The light blue fabric of his new shirt pulled at his shoulders that hunched when your glare remained unwavering despite the apologetic puppy dog eyes he had going for him. 

You understood Steve didn’t mean for the comment to start the hole he was digging, and you knew you weren’t being fair for being so upset. It’s not like it was his fault, it was just your own insecurities manifesting in an anger towards him. 

The nagging feeling of being some sort of freak who’d never made out while even the little twerps who clung to Steve were, while your best friend was Steve Harrington, former king of Hawkins High only grew stronger. The thought of Steve thinking you were some sort of weirdo for being old and never making out had something in your gut churning, had a familiar sting behind your eyes forming that you tried your best to ignore. 

When Steve opened his mouth, about to try to make it all better again, you simply turned on your heel and stalked out into the rain. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at the way you stomped through it, pretending to not be drowned. 

He quickly rushed behind you and got to the door first and swung it open, to which you rolled your eyes at, but slid in and got comfortable while he closed it for you nonetheless. 

Unsure why he went and changed as he raced around the hood and shot into the driver’s seat, totally soaked through to his skin now. He cranked the heat before swiping fingers over his eyes, a large hand ran through his hair and pushed it back only for it to fall into his eyes again. Steve reached over with wet and shaking fingers at the same time you held yours up, both of you pausing and glancing at the other’s hands. 

Steve was about to cup your fingers between his and blow warm breath onto them, just like he always did, but you ripped your hands down to your lap, and curled your body against the door, like you needed to be as far from him as you could be. 

Your damp forehead touched the cool glass of the window as he sighed, “Please don’t-”

“Just take me home, please?”

The tone in which the words were said has something in his chest breaking. Like you were really fucking sad, embarassed, it was a real plea to just take you home and leave you alone. 

So he wasn’t gonna do that, ‘cause he never was a great listener, so why start now?

He pretends though, he backs out of the driveway and heads in the direction of your apartment. He lets the radio fill the space and he turns the heat down when the air inside the car is heavier and warm despite your cold shoulder. The orange glow of the street lights slanted inside the car in a soothing rhythm as his wheels spun over the pavement until he was coming to the last four way stop before your apartment. 

It unfolds just as he had planned, when he’s still stopped at the deserted intersection, as your breath fogged up the glass when you asked, “Harrington, you planning on leaving the intersection anytime soon?”

His bottom lip wobbled as his teeth continued to press into it, thick fingers rubbing at a scruff dotted jaw as he thought out loud in an attempt to sway you. 

“Well, you see, I could go straight and take you home-” he started. 

“Right. Let’s do that.” You waved your hand towards the direction of the apartment that held the ice cream you were desperate to eat and wallow with while watching Pretty In Pink. 

“Or,” Steve interrupted right back, tapping on the steering wheel with his finger as he did, “I could go to the right. Pull into the diner. Buy you a milkshake and say sorry?”

The thing was, he was gonna go to the right regardless of your answer. He knew once you pulled into the parking lot there was no way you’d not at least go in and get fries and a shake, if not a whole burger. You’d done this dance before, him putting his foot in his mouth was not a new occurrence. 

Your lips twitched, but your arms stayed crossed as he hummed and whispered, “Tough choice…tough choice…”

Shoulders fell in defeat, but your mouth stayed downturned in a forced frown as you grumbled, “And fries.”

Steve smiled, turned on his blinker and nodded. He cleared his throat.

“And fries. Definitely.”

“And none of that you order yourself a vanilla shake and I order strawberry and you drink half of mine because it’s better and eat all the fries shit.”

“Of course,” Steve scoffed, “I would never do that.”

Steve slipped his straw into your shake, pulling the glass across the sticky tabletop as you did the same with his. He tried not to smirk around the straw when you did, dipping a fry in his vanilla he ordered for a reason despite the strawberry being better. 

“Do you think Claire is a prude for never doing anything?”

He shook his head no almost immediately, swiping at stray ice cream from the corner of his mouth with his tongue. 

You fiddled with the straw wrapped between your fingers and narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Would your answer be the same if, say, Eddie was sitting here asking you? Not me, your best friend, who you have sudden pity for?”

He blinked at you and sighed, “I don’t have pity for you.”

“Your mouth and your eyes are telling two different stories Harrington,” you waved a fry at him as you spoke, gesturing to his face with it. 

Your gaze stayed on the fry you were ripping in half, focused on watching it sink into the sweet vanilla as he dared to say, “I just don’t get it.”

“What, that I haven’t done that and I’m so old,” you tried to tease, to move past it. 

But the way you were licking salt off your finger had him wondering if he swiped his own through the salt on the tray and pushed the pad against your lips if they would part like they were now, if he could taste it on your lips if he just leaned forward and-

“No, ‘cause you’re so fucking pretty.” 

He definitely said it out loud that time. 

You blinked at him, cheeks suddenly too warm for the cold and damp Spring that had been surrounding you all day.  

“Ste-”

“And so smart,” he licked his lips, leaning forward, unable to stop now that it was out, “And funny. And…and sweet, you’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I know, I just don’t understand how guys aren’t falling over themselves, unable to do anything but make out with you, or more or-”

“I never said I didn’t do more,” you whispered, ignoring all of his compliments that made your chest feel all tight and sticky and choosing to argue with him instead because that was easier. 

“But you said…if you haven’t made out with anyone…” 

Your body slipped lower against the squeaky seat, embarrassed as you shrugged and Steve felt too hot in the tiny little booth, thinking about all those guys’ hands on you again, and then what you said, what it meant, really clicked. 

“Hold on…how…how’d…you didn’t, build up to it?” He asked softly, eyes bouncing over your face with worry. 

“Steve,” you grabbed for the other shake, and sat up straighter, “We don’t need to talk about this. It’s not import-”

“It’s so important,” he grabbed your hand and squeezed your fingers lightly, “Half the fun is all the build up to it. And,” he swallowed, forehead creasing with deeper worry, “And then it, it doesn’t hurt. ‘Cause tell me if I’m wrong, but if they weren’t making out with you, were they doing anything to make sure you felt good?”

You squirmed in your seat, fingers pushing up against his mindlessly, aimlessly, as you shrugged again. “It’s only hurt a few times. I learned that if I…um, If I got myself ready beforehand, that I was, uh, more comfortable.”

Steve’s fingers let go of yours with the excuse of grabbing a fry, because he was trying not to be a gross guy, but all he could think about was you in your bedroom, with your fingers between your thighs now. Did you play music? What song? Did you have underwear on? What color? With a shirt that your nipples were visibly hard through as you touched yourself and maybe it was his shirt or maybe you said his name or-

“Right,” Steve nodded, “Um, right. And that’s great, lots of people do that for a date, so like if you need or want to beforehand that’s not…that’s great. It just shouldn’t be the only thing, you know? They should be putting in the work, they should be wanting to. And dates! They should watch a movie with you, and dinner and drive around and then kiss so much you feel dizzy and then if you want, more.”

He finished his rambling speech and you smiled softly, unsure of what to say, because you knew he wasn’t wrong, it’s just that they had. 

“They did,” you sighed, “Well, not Paul.”

Steve scowled at the table, “Yeah, well, I’m sure you weren’t missing much. Who wants to yell out Paul?”

“Oh,” you laughed, “And Steve is so much better?”

He looked up at you, your smile sweet and kind and your eyes a little sad, but trying not to be and he wanted to say yes. He wanted to tell you that if it was those lips and that voice saying it, it was better, because how could it not be? Like his name only had the best letters, like it belonged to the best guy in the world, one that belonged to you and no one else. 

But you were swiping at ice cream on your lips and sighing, saying something that made his chest ache instead. 

“They were nice dates. And it’s not like the sex was bad. But,” you looked out the window, eyes tracking the droplets of rain twinged neon from the light hanging above you both, “The kissing till I’m dizzy sounds nice. Is it…is it fun?”

“Yeah,” Steve whispered, admiring the way the red and blue lit up your profile before you turned to face him. 

And then he was saying something before he really thought it through, because god you weren’t just fucking pretty, you were the most beautiful person he’d ever met and no way in hell was he letting anyone treat you the way you’d been ever again. So this was his chance, and he was taking the leap.

“I could…” he blew out a breath and smiled. He sat up straighter, and he searched for some sort of lingering king steve confidence he could latch onto without all the douche as he asked, “I could show you?”

To both of your surprise, you’d said yes, and he paid and you were in the car, driving, and parked somewhere in what felt like seconds. Now your best friend sat across from you, both of you facing the center console, but not daring to do more. 

The rain beat against the roof of the maroon car, each drop a punctuated tick of a nonexistent clock - a meter for how much time was passing without movement, without words. Just both of your breathing filled the space. First exhaling, then desperately inhaling for more air as your chests rose and fell ragged. And then, like in some unspoken agreement only best friends can have, you both started to lean forward cause you just knew. 

Your heart’s thrum threatened to drown out the rain, building and building, screaming to break out of your chest, pounding in your ears while your cheeks grew warm and your stomach dipped as Steve’s tongue slipped out quickly and wetted his lips. 

But then he leaned and his eyes started to close and you giggled, fingers slipping over your lips as his eyelids shot open. 

“Sorry,” you gasped and shook your head and your hands out as you tried to be serious, “Your ‘I’m about to kiss you’ face is real cute, Harrington.”

Tried being the definitive word. 

“Cute?” He groaned, smiling, “Not sexy?”

You leaned in, faster this time, a smile matching his as you shrugged, “It’s nice. Never thought I’d be on the opposite side of it, is all.”

It’s easy to tilt your head and welcome the hand that reached up to cradle your jaw as he softly promised, “Your ‘I’m about to be kissed face’ is really cute too.”

The pad of his thumb brushed over the apple of your cheek in the tenderest touch you’d ever felt, before his fingers curled under your jaw and tilted you gently, slowly, up so his lips were right over yours. 

It felt like he was handling you like the most precious and fragile thing, like a prized possession that he’d only ever hold with care and never let another soul touch. 

His breath fanned over yours, warm and sweet smelling, vanilla and cherry just out of reach for you to taste as you dared to quip back again. “Alright, I’m gonna have to cross reference these lines with other girls you’ve promised to make dizzy, Harrington, cause if that’s the first time you’ve used that, I’m afraid it’s far too smooth…”

Steve’s heart felt like it was trying to claw out of his chest as you laughed, smiling at him when he responded, “And, I think that’s enough out of you.”

Which you couldn’t help but reply back to with, “Yeah? Have some fancy trick to get me to stop talking?”

He laughed, low, muffled and deep in his chest. “A few.”

A sharp inhale slipped past your lips when his nose bumps yours, not realizing how close he’d gotten while you joked back and forth nervously. There wasn’t a protocol on how to let your best show you a proper make out, on how to just dive in and start, you just knew you wanted to. 

Steve’s swallow bobbed his adams apple as the leather beneath you creaked from shifting weight, needing to get closer. And as you did, his eyes found yours, mossy and dark in the low light, the browns and golds washed away in the rain. Their gaze flitted down to your lips, back up to fluttering eyelashes, and then his own eyelids were closing. 

All it took was another breath in, an exhale out, and his lips were on yours. A simple, slow press, holding your top lip between the both of his. Strawberry and vanilla teasing you, and soon he was moving, now bottom lip between his and you got it. Your mouths parted together, lips slotting in a rhythm that came naturally, that clicked. 

Something in your stomach fizzled and crackled like the sparklers you lit every year in his driveway on the fourth as the sigh from his nose hit your cheek. Body warm and sticky in a way that was usually reserved for Summer when his fingers skated over your jaw, up and around your ear, until they were cradling the back of your neck and pulling you closer. His mouth moved with yours in a way that could only be described as frantically graceful - needing more, hurried, hungry, but with the promise and precision of someone who knew what he was doing. It had your stomach dipping, like a freefall, like the greatest and scariest thing you’d ever felt. 

If he’d have opened his eyes, he’d have found you with your hands suspended between your bodies though. Fingers not quite brave enough to reach up and get lost in his hair, but not content to just sit in your lap and do nothing either. 

And if you'd opened your eyes, you’d have found his other hand gripping the center console like he was hanging on for dear life. ‘Cause holy shit was he trying to go slow, but kissing you was like chasing the last few minutes of sunlight in July - sweet and fleeting and magic - something you needed to make last, to soak up every last drop of until you couldn’t any more, not by choice, but because the sun has to set and he has to breathe.

In a shared gasp for air, you parted, but his lips were back on yours immediately, making your stomach swoop even more, like an entire family of butterflies had decided - hey, we live here now and we’re gonna make a ruckus so get used to it.

You didn’t mind. 

Steve’s fingers found yours and without breaking his rhythm, he tugged, guiding them to his shoulders that were practically on your side of the console now, which wasn’t doing something great to his already somersaulting stomach. 

He slowed down as your fingers brushed over and back on the collar of his shirt and his hands cradled both of your cheeks, pulling you off of his lips regretfully. You were both breathing like you’d run a marathon, his forehead pressed to yours as he gasped out, “Dizzy yet?”

“No,” you lied. 

He grinned, tip of his nose tracing the bridge of yours as he admitted, “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you like that.”

You couldn’t even respond, couldn’t tell him you wanted that too, couldn’t tell him that it was something you only dared let a daydream or two convince you it could happen before you were shutting it down, cause he was still talking. 

“And now that I have,” he swallowed, his thumbs glided down opposite sides of your neck as he shook his head, “I’m never stopping.”

Then he was kissing you again, and if you thought he was frantic before…

You had this feeling that even if those other guys had made out with you, kissing them wasn’t and never would be the same as kissing Steve Harrington. 

Soon one of your feet was on the seat, the other bracing yourself in the footwell. He had a hand on your hip and the other on the back of your neck and yours were finally starting to dare to journey past their spot on his shoulders and then your skirt was caught on the gearshift and he was stopping you again. 

“Honey, what are you doing?”

“So was that ‘never stopping’ just a nice sentiment or are you planning to back it up with action?” You huffed, distracted by pink lips that twisted into a crooked smile as he looked at your pretzeled body. 

Your shoulders fell as you nodded your head towards his side of the car and admitted, “I just want to be closer.”

“Oh, right.” Steve swallowed, and you wondered if it’d be weird if you kissed every freckle and mole you could find on his throat. Something told you he wouldn’t mind when he asked, a little more eager than you’d heard tonight, “Backseat?” 

And you clambered out of the car, the slowing rain soothing to heated and flushed skin under the mussed clothes, and then you were both meeting in the backseat, but the nerves returned. The way you both glanced at the space between you and were immediately and acutely aware of the lack of anything between you except doubt and fear. Was this a mistake? What about your friendship?

Steve looked at the space, at you, and then held up his finger in the symbol for one sec as he said, “Hold on,” and half climbed back into the front seat. His torso draped over the console as he loudly opened the glovebox and rummaged around inside, before he was fiddling with the radio, and falling back into the seat. 

His cheeks pink, but his smile wide as he looked at you again. “Hey! I’m so glad we could do this tonight. You look beautiful. Ready to watch your favorite movie?”

“Wh-what?” You laughed, totally and utterly confused. 

He tugged on your fingers, and pulled you to the middle, until you were slouched next to each other, shoulders touching as he shushed and said, “The Breakfast Club is starting.”

And the music playing over the radio,Simple Minds, a cassette he must have put in, had your chest swelling with something that was sure to burst and explode and kill you, because the boy was actually pretending you were on a couch, on a date, in a living room, watching a movie - it was perfectly Steve and you, and the best first date you’d ever been on. 

His left hand picked up yours, resting it on your thigh and played with your fingers. The pads of his traced up and down and over your hand as he stared at the windshield, his temple resting against yours. The music played, and his fingertips swooped between the curves of each finger aimlessly, the sides of his fingers running down yours and back up making it really hard to concentrate on the non-existent flick. 

When you finally relaxed into his side, when you flipped your hand over so he could draw little loop de loops on your palm, he quietly asked, “Who’s your favorite?”

“Brian,” said without hesitation. 

Steve groaned, in pain, “Ugh, you would like him the best.”

You laughed, turning to look up at him a bit from where your head had fallen to his shoulder, “Don’t knock him Steve,” you spoke softly, fondly, “You’re a lot more of a dork like him than you think.”

Steve made a pft noise, fingers now interlaced with yours as he turned his head, the tip of his nose touching yours as he looked down at you with the sort of look the guys give the girls in the movies, one that should be illegal from the way it had that family of butterflies shouting about their presence again and fluttering around. 

“Hey Steve?” 

“Hmm?” He hummed, eyelashes fluttering as he sighed when your thumb brushed over his knuckles.

“This is a really great…first date?” You asked, hopeful that it wasn’t just an offer, that you weren’t some game, that the guy next to you was just as crazy about you as you were him. 

“Yeah?” He smiled, proud, and then bragged, “Wait till the second one.”

It was your turn to hum, to look into his eyes and get a little lost as his mouth parted and you both scooted closer, waiting, as he squeezed your fingers wrapped around his. 

“You’re making the ‘I’m about to kiss you face’ again, Steve,” you whispered, lips brushing his as you did.

“Right,” he whispered back, bottom lip catching yours as he suggested, “Which means you should probably stop talking again.”

This kiss wasn’t as easy and smooth, made difficult by grins of fools who were totally in love but wouldn’t admit it just yet, but how could you both not be after years together?

But you smoothed it out quickly, and soon he was swiping his tongue over your bottom lip as his hand gripped at your waist a little tightly. He traced over your top lip as your entire body turned towards his, like a plant in search of sunlight, his body on yours fundamental to your survival.

He gasped as you straddled him, your mouth swallowing the sound as his hands roamed up your sides, taking the hem of your shirt with it so his fingers could scrape at the skin just under your ribs before they dared to drift along the band of your bra.  

You let out a sound that he’d never forget as long as he lived when you finally lowered yourself, skirt fanning over your laps so the sinful way he pressed up against your pristine soaked Calvin’s was slightly hidden. The unclip of your bra and the removal and toss over the seat was fluid, and you couldn’t think about it because the way his hand on your chest felt, the thumb over a pebbled nipple was something you’d only let yourself think about in moments of need before a date that wasn’t him. 

Steve was wrong, the build up was more than half the fun.

The way his hands buzzed against your spine like the air after fireworks, the way his tongue brushed yours, the way he couldn’t help but guide your hips to rock against him. Denim hitting cotton in the exact right spot so the nerves underneath it got the friction they were aching for, while your mind ran away from you, thoughts about how this was just getting started. How there was more. 

His lips left yours and his smile pressed to your jaw when the action got a soft whimper to fall from you. He tutted into your neck, lips grazing over an erratic pulse as he whispered, “Can I touch you?”

“Is that,” your breath hitched around the words as his tongue licked a thick stripe over your neck that extended, “Is that a part of making me dizzy or the more, when I’m sufficiently so?”

“You’re not yet?” His teeth scraped at where his tongue had just been. “I like when you say words like sufficiently, ‘s’hot.”

You laughed as his lips kissed the same spot, and then he was sucking, skin beneath his tongue warm and sending a message to your brain that you liked that a lot. 

“Yeah,” you hiccuped, eyelids fluttering in their view of the car’s roof as you arched and his hands gripped your hips, “Yeah, touch me.”

He didn’t have to be told twice, arm around your waist holding you steady while the other traveled under the hem of your skirt. His mouth moved to below your ear and as his fingers glided up your thigh. He sucked and kissed, and sent that message to your brain again, having you say his name and god’s in the same desperate sentence. 

Steve wasn’t gonna last much longer. 

Especially when his fingers met the wet cotton and you moaned, so much filthier than he’d have thought possible. Especially when he circled over your clit through the fabric and you rolled your hips with the movement, far dirtier than he thought you were capable of. 

“Fuck baby, you’re soaked.” He mouthed at the collar of your rucked up shirt, looking down at the way your hips rolled over his but he couldn’t quite see what was underneath. 

You hid in the crook of his neck, hot, and you didn’t know if it was because the windows were fogged and Steve was so fucking good at this or because you were embarassed by how turned on you were from his next words. 

“Please, I gotta,” he slipped a finger under the fabric and you shuddered as it ran down your slick and back up, “I gotta taste you. I need to put my mouth on you. Let me make you feel good, yeah?”

You were on your back, Calvin’s in a ball on the front seat, with Steve crouched between your thighs not even a minute later. 

Thick fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt from his spot, blown out pupils taking over his stare up at you. One of your converse pushed to the other side of the car against the door as your fingers curled around the base of the sweating window above you. 

Steve kissed your knee, and made his way higher between your legs slowly, until he was flipping your skirt up and swallowing as he stared at the space like it was a fucking artwork. 

You giggled, nervously under the intense awestruck stare, squeezing your eyes shut as he strained to get out, “Fuck, honey, you’re trying to kill me.”

He was mesmerized, the way you clenched around nothing, his thumbs spreading you so he could see just how wet you were for him. 

He was really not gonna last much longer. Straining in his jeans painfully like a teenager. 

And that was before you whimpered, before you said:

“Steve, please.”

“Only,” he swallowed, leaning down so his breath hit your cunt in a way that had your hips wiggling, and him closing his eyes, “Only cause you asked so nicely.”

His thumbs held you open, massaging the sides as his tongue licked once, slow and broad, following the path of his nose up to your clit. He did it again, and again, and again. Until his fingers were slipping inside of you, pumping in and out of walls that held him tightly and his mouth sucked at your clit. Then you tugged, forcefully at the curls at the back of his head and practically screamed his name. Like it was full of only the best letters. Like it was yours. 

Your stomach burned, the butterflies angry and in your chest now too, on fire, but happy about it. Steve’s fingers inside of you and mouth on your clit better than any orgasm you’d ever had, and you couldn’t help it when you came without warning, toes curling inside of your converse that kicked at the door and his thigh, while your fingers slipped on the window and your chest ached for a breath as it yelled his name in a way that the whole world would have to know how you felt when they heard it. 

He didn’t pull away until you were gasping and your thighs were shaking and your fingers loosened in his hair. His cheek pressed to your thigh as he stared up at you and gasped out a proud, smug, “I’d like to see Bender of Brian do that.”

You laughed, tired, but happy, and he crawled up your body, kissing any part of it he could find while he ignored the uncomfortable wet patch in the front of his Levi’s. 

Except you noticed and raised your eyebrows at it, a little smug yourself as you said, “Bet Claire couldn’t do that.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but then you were both flinching as a loud smack of something hit the back window. He glanced up and cursed under his breath, rolling down the window slightly as he called out from on top of you, “Hey, Hop.”

There was a loud, deep, sigh from outside as you both sat up with apologetic faces and Steve rolled down the window further. 

Hopper’s cigarette smoke wafted in as he looked at the pair of you with a touch of surprise when he saw it was you next to Steve in the fogged up beemer. He shook his head, frown under the mustache forced.  “It’s past eleven. On a weeknight. Have some decency and do this at home in front of a movie like normal people next time, yeah?”

You both nodded, your teeth pulling at your lip in a terrible attempt at not smiling. 

He walked away, and you and Steve slapped hands over each other’s laughs and snorts, but you still managed to catch the quiet, “Bout damn time.” 

And when Steve dropped you off at home, with a kiss to seal it all and a promise of a real date tomorrow that he’d pick you up for, you shoved the bunched up Calvin’s in his front pocket with your own promise, whispering in his ear the words “Sincerely, yours” before you left him with his mouth open on the front steps, watching you walk away. 

[sapphicromanoffxo]

Curiosity kills the cat | n.r x w.m

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: beefy!Nat, oral sex, strap on use, mild degradation, praise kink, mentions of aftercare, daddy kink, a bit of breeding kink

Summary: Wanda is intrigued by the intricacies of filming a sex video and ended up asking Natasha if she will be up for it?

A/N: so this is based on a request and tbh, I don't know if this turned out good. So please let me know your thoughts! 🤞 AND sorry if there are any mistakes. ✌️

╰┈➤ Masterlist

Receiving fancy gifts always feels strange to Wanda because she and her brother grew up without much money. Her family couldn't buy expensive stuff, even though her parents worked to make sure they had enough food. So, Wanda learned at an early age to be careful with money and practical with her expenses. That's why it overwhelms her a bit whenever Natasha showers her with gifts on random days. She knows that Natasha tends to buy stuff that is on the expensive side, and she almost wants to tell Nat to stop buying her things. But there is a part of her that feels giddy at Natasha's grand gestures as it makes her feel really special.

Natasha's latest gift is a digital camera. Wanda knew it's expensive upon noticing the brand, and she knew for sure that it was the latest model.

"I saw how you take good pictures of Liho on your phone, and I think you have a talent for photography. You should pursue or discover that side of yourself more," Natasha lovingly encouraged her girlfriend.

Wanda bit her lips at Natasha's high praise and observant skill. "You didn't have to buy me a camera. But thank you, Nat."

"Don't worry, baby. I just want to support your interests in life. Now go on and take more pictures of Liho!"

Natasha unexpectedly found herself becoming the focal point of Wanda's photography, much to her chagrin. Natasha knew that she's good-looking however, she couldn't shake the discomfort of being photographed. Attempting to lighten her own mood, she playfully dubbed Wanda her "personal paparazzi". Natasha could never find it in her heart to tell Wanda to refrain from taking pictures of her, in fear that she may discourage her girlfriend.

On a sunny afternoon, Wanda searches for Pietro with the intention of borrowing his laptop so she can transfer all the photos and take a look at which ones are worth printing. She is planning on making an album filled with photos of everyone in the compound and a separate album as well for Natasha and their cat, Liho.

"Go ahead and get it in my room." Pietro told her and off she went to his room. Once she retrieved the laptop, she then went to their room, Natasha and hers, and plopped down on the bed. While the photos are being transferred, she can't help but be curious about Pietro's search history. She knows it's bad to snoop around but she's genuinely curious about her brother's interest in life.

To say that she's shock was an understatement. Pietro's history was filled with porn sites! Well, she can't fault his brother since he is a man and it is normal for them to watch porn. It is not her place to judge but she can't determine why there is a need for people to take videos of them having sex. She realised that these people are getting money out of this and being a porn actor pays well. So she just continued browsing and well, watching clips and it made her think of her girlfriend. Natasha has a body that is to die for, and capturing them on pictures or even videos makes Wanda's heart race with anticipation.

As if summoned, Natasha enters the room clad in tight shorts accentuating her round ass, strong thighs and a sports bra with thin straps barely containing her ample tits. Wanda hastily shuts off her laptop, blurting out, "Natasha! What are you doing here?"

Cringing at her own question, Wanda realizes Natasha will sense something is amiss, putting pressure on revealing her little secret.

Natasha arches an eyebrow at Wanda's odd behavior, stating, "Well, this is my room, and I cut short my training since I'm not in the mood."

Wanda merely nods, mildly irritating Natasha. "Why are you acting weird, and what's on that laptop, detka?"

"Nothing, nothing! I'm just transferring my photos. That's all." Wanda responded nervously.

"Can I see the photos?" Natasha challenged Wanda.

If Wanda could hide and run away, she would. But there is no winning when Natasha is on a mission to expose what she's keeping.

"Uhm. Sure. Just wait a second."

Loud pornographic sounds immediately fill the room the moment Wanda opens the laptop which makes her shut it off again. Horrified almost feels inadequate to describe what she's feeling. Now this is the right time to flung herself on the window and never come back. She's also too afraid to look at Natasha, in fear that she may be scolded by her current predicament.

"There are only two of us in this room and there is no doubt that neither of us just made that sound so give me the laptop." Natasha finally speaks up and demands Wanda to hand over the device. Wanda did want she's been told and just wants earth to swallow her whole.

Natasha opens the laptop and the filthy sounds come into life once again. The current page that she's in makes her wonder how Wanda discovered such a thing and what her motives are.

"Is there any reason why you are watching porn?" She asked softly to somehow calm Wanda's mind.

The poor girl is contemplating her answer and opens her mouth to say something but ends up shutting it. She responded instead with, "Are you mad at me?"

"No, Wanda." Natasha is quick to assure the girl. "I promise I am not mad at you. You can tell me what's on your mind."

Satisfied with Natasha's assurance, she then answers her question truthfully and solemnly, "It was not my intention to watch porn in the first place. I was just snooping around Pietro's history and I came across those websites. I became curious and watched some of the videos."

"These videos are educational at some point and there is nothing wrong with watching them but, if you have questions or want something, you can ask me. I won't bite, you know? Unless you want me to." Natasha sits down beside Wanda and puts in a little joke in the end to lighten up the mood.

"I know. I was just curious, that's all." Wanda responds with an air of relief knowing that she's not in trouble.

"You're okay. Let me give this back to you and I'm going to take a shower, okay?" Natasha smiles at Wanda and gives her a kiss before going to the bathroom.

Once Wanda is alone, she looks at the screen again and watches some of the previews. She smiled at herself and maybe something good could come out from watching these videos.

Feeling refreshed from a good bath, Natasha wears her boxers and a loose cropped top for a more casual and relaxed attire since it will be hours before they will be up for dinner. She searches for Wanda and finds her sitting on the sofa instead, with the camera situated on a tripod in front of her.

"Are you taking self portraits?" Natasha asks.

"I figured we can take some photos together? Only if you'd like." Wanda proposes.

Natasha almost hesitates but she sees something else from Wanda's plan and decides to just go with it. "Sure. How do you want me?"

"Just sit there and we'll just do little poses."

And so Wanda adjusts the settings of the camera and sits on Natasha's strong things.

Natasha's hands naturally land on Wanda's ass, gripping them affectionately.

"Hmm. This is nice." Natasha said with great enthusiasm.

"Yeah? You feel comfortable with this?"

"Ofcourse, baby. As long as I'm doing it with you."

Wanda blushes at Natasha's words and so far her plan is working well. She leans down to kiss Natasha and feels her hands travelling up and down her sides, then ending back on her ass.

"What if I want to do something more?" Wanda asks nervously.

A light bulb figuratively sparked at Natasha's head, confirming her suspicion of Wanda's proposal.

"What do you have in mind, love?" Natasha's hand travels up to the swell of Wanda's breasts, groping them gently which earns a small moan from the witch.

"I want to film us having sex. Would you be up for it?" Wanda asks reluctantly, not knowing whether Natasha will agree on her wish.

"Am I right to assume that you got this idea from those videos?" Natasha decides to tease her a bit. She likes it when Wanda comes up to her with ideas on how they can spice up their sex life. She knows plenty of kinks to be worked up with, however she also wants Wanda to feel comfortable with discovering what feels right for her.

"Uh-uh. I want to see how our bodies react to one another from a different perspective."

"I trust you and your ideas, baby."

Wanda beams at Natasha's agreement and kisses her senseless. Her mind is going on overdrive with scenarios that she wants to reenact which further intensifies her arousal.

"I want to eat you out first." Wanda whispers seductively at Natasha's ear, while grinding her body at her hips.

"Feeling confident tonight, detka? Go on, I'll let you have it." Natasha smirks at Wanda's sudden confidence. How she loves to witness her take charge of their relationship once in a while. But at the end of the day, she knows she'll have Wanda at her mercy anyway.

***

It's been days since they have done their impromptu sex recording session and both women haven't gotten the chance to review the video.

Natasha pulled out her own personal laptop and strictly instructed Wanda to only make one copy of the said video and it should only be on her own device. They can't risk the chance of leaking their own sex video now and for sure it will be the talk of the town if ever it comes to that.

Alone in their room, Wanda takes it upon herself to watch the recording. She suddenly feels like she's about to intrude on someone's sex life but it is literally their own so she shouldn't worry that much. Part of her feels ashamed of what they've done but looking back at Natasha's reaction to it and how she animalisticly fucked her, she realised in end that it's worth it.

The video was almost an hour long which felt longer at the time. They sometimes lose track of the time everytime Natasha is in the mood of good fucking and their love making session would last all night long. Wanda would never complain about being used like that especially if she's on the receiving end of pleasure. Though she also makes sure to return the favor to Natasha, but the ratio of orgasm is almost never equal between them.

Wanda hits the play button and she sees herself kissing Natasha's toned abdomen, leaving small hickeys on her porcelain skin and travelling upwards again to give a much needed attention to her perky nipples.

The sheer adoration on Wanda's eyes is so evident and she can't help but be aroused by her own actions towards Natasha. Her hand then ventures towards Natasha's left boob while she's sucking on the other one with much gusto. Natasha's boobs are bigger than hers and she can barely hold them in her small hands.

"Wanda, baby."

Natasha moans at how wonderful Wanda's tongue feels on her nipple. It sends a spike of pleasure down her clit and she ends up directing her hand down her crotch. Wanda understands what Natasha wants right away and kneels in front of her clothed pussy instead. She drags the boxers down her legs and is pleased to see that her lover is not wearing any underwear at all.

"You're so wet for me, daddy."

"All for you, my love."

Wanda wasted no time and dived right in on Natasha's enlarged clit. She can almost feel it throb at every passing lick and marvels at how sensitive it is.

"Right there! So good, baby."

The angle of the camera captures the whole view of Natasha's toned upper body, Wanda can clearly see how her abs flexes at each deep in take of breaths and her chest would rise and fall from the intense pleasure within her core. Her left hand clutches on Wanda's hair and pushes her head deeper into her pussy, fully assaulting the aching bud.

Wanda penetrates Natasha's entrance with three fingers without warning and her eyes flew open, adjusting herself at the sudden spike of pleasure.

"Fuck!" Natasha screams, eyes rolling at the back of her head, and her back arching away from the sofa. Both of her hands now are gripping Wanda's head and her legs are perched on her shoulders, stabilising her upper body.

The deep guttural moans that are coming from Natasha's mouth makes Wanda's pussy clench on nothing. She's feeling more eager now on making Natasha cum, so she herself can get her own release. She doubled her efforts on sucking Natasha's clit and within the next seconds, Natasha's body is shaking and is now sitting in an upright position while mumbling, "I'm cumming! I'm cum–!"

Wanda's screen shows Natasha's chest, how it rises and falls at every deep breaths, her tits and abdomen littered with small, dark hickeys and her arms are splayed out to her side. What a fucking sight to see. Wanda pauses the video to admire her lover even more and takes pride at reducing Natasha into this state.

"Satisfied?" Wanda asked with a smug look on her face.

"Very. Come up here." Natasha demanded and Wanda scrambled off the floor to straddle her thighs once again.

"Can you grab the strap on for me? I want you to ride me while you're facing the camera."

Red wisps of magic appear on Wanda's fingertips then the harness together with its dildo lands on the sofa.

"Good girl. That magic of yours is real handly."

Wanda momentarily stands up while Natasha secures the harness around her hips and attaches the toy on her crotch.

"Come on. Ride daddy's cock the way you like it."

The witch positions herself and straddling Natasha's thighs while facing the camera. She sinks in slowly at the 8-inch dildo and oh, the stretch feels so good and the burn is intensely satisfying. Natasha holds Wanda's waist to guide her down, without moving her hips first to make sure that Wanda is well adjusted.

"God, daddy. You're so big. I love it so much."

Wanda whimpers the moment the whole length is situated within her. Her movements are slow at first, then gradually picking up her pace once the mild pain subsided. Her arms are pinned by one of Natasha's hands while the other one is gripping her waist.

"Sweet baby, you look so fucking good like this. Lean down on my chest, sweetheart."

Wanda's back hasn't even touched Natasha's chest yet but she starts pounding into her like there is no tomorrow.

"Daddy! Daddy! Fuck! Harder harder!"

"You like being fucked like this, huh? That's my good girl."

At this point, Wanda is completely entranced by their love making. The voyeuristic pleasure of simultaneously seeing and feeling the tenderness and roughness of Natasha's touch, how her pussy stretches to accommodate the girth and length of her cock, and oh– her own moans is a clear reflection of how good Natasha is fucking her. Her gaze focuses back to the video where the tripod was moved to the side. Wanda is now kneeling on the sofa, legs wide open and Natasha is fucking her roughly from the back.

"This pussy is mine to fuck and abuse, yes?"

"Yes! Yes! This pussy is yours to abuse. Faster, please!"

Witnessing her own submission to Natasha is both daunting and thrilling. Natasha holds the exclusive privilege of delving into her innermost desires, unravelling her lust in a simple command that would leave her begging for more.

The bruising grip of her lover on her waist and the way she's being manhandled should be alarming, yet all she sees and feels is comfort. There is a sense of comfort in knowing that Natasha will take care of her and ultimately love her throughout their relationship. There is no other person in this world that she could trust other than Natasha Romanoff.

"If I had a dick, I know I'll be coming all over you. Gonna breed you like slut until you pass out!"

"You're gonna make me cum! Ahh!"

"Fucking hell, Wanda. That's it. Cum on my cock."

Wanda's heart swells even more at seeing Natasha at how she takes good care of her, especially right after an intense lovemaking. She makes sure to put Wanda's comfort above anything else. Whispers of sweet nothings to bring her down from such a soaring high pleasure and gentle kisses to calm her racing heart.

"You look so beautiful, detka. I'm so lucky to have you."

"I love you so much, Natty."

"I love you too, baby. Come on, let's get you cleaned up before we head down for a nap."

As the video nears its end, with them no longer in frame, Wanda directs her attention to the background objects. It's at this moment that she notices a small green-eyed cat loafing at the far end of the sofa, evidently basking in its own bubble.

She wonders, was Liho present the entire duration of them having sex? Wanda rewinds the video and, to her surprise, discovers that the cat was indeed a silent observer throughout, from the beginning to the end.

"Damn it, Liho!"

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

Today's @wolfstarmicrofic prompt is Not a Date!

(625 words.)

"So, how did it go?" Lily asks excitedly, dropping down into the seat beside Remus in the Common Room. Remus frowns, a little confused. For a second, he racks his brain, tries to find something in his day for Lily to be asking about.

"How did what go?" He asks eventually, giving up. Lily looks at him as though he's spontaneously learnt another language, which does nothing to ease Remus' confusion.

"Your big date!"

Okay, yep, that hasn't helped.

"Big date?" Unless he's really daft, he hasn't been on any date today.

"With Sirius! Come on, I need details!"

Shock immediately ripples through Remus, his eyes widening almost involuntarily. Yeah, he and Sirius had been in Hogsmeade all day, and yeah, it was really nice. That doesn't mean he was on a date with him! He accepted a while ago that Sirius was never going to see him in that way, anyway.

"That was not a date," He says quickly. Lily only smiles at him, clearly slightly puzzled.

"Come on, you've been all sad about your crush on him for months! You're telling me that the sadness stopping the moment you go to Hogsmeade together is a coincidence?" She says triumphantly, as though she's just proved this magic point, brought everything together.

She really hasn't.

"No, I stopped acting all... sad, about it, because I accepted the fact that he's never going to feel the same way, and I may as well just enjoy our friendship. We went to Hogsmeade as friends!" He explains carefully, but Lily just eyes him disbelievingly.

"Just the two of you."

"Yeah!"

"No Peter, no James?"

"Yeah?" He really doesn't see where she's going with this.

"And where did you go?" She asks calmly. "Not round the shops, Marlene would have seen you."

"The three broomsticks," He says. "We just... talked, I guess. It wasn't a date." The more he thinks about it, the more Lily's thought process is starting to sink in. "Wait. Was it a date?" He asks her, glancing up.

"Oh my god, Remus. I love you so much, truly, but you're an idiot."

"Hey! We never agreed that it was a date! It's just... he did only ask me, and we did sit really quite close, but..." For the second time in the space of five minutes, Remus is sent into a state of shock. He's practically stunned into silence.

"Right, forget details. You need to go and talk to Sirius." With that decided for him, Lily reaches out and practically shoves Remus off the sofa.

It's enough to get him moving; making a beeline for the dorms and shoving the door open.

Sirius turns his head the moment Remus walks in, offering him a soft smile.

"Was that- was it a date? Did we go on a date?" Remus blurts out before he can stop himself. It probably isn't the right thing to have said, based on the way that Sirius' face drops.

"Did you... yes, it was a date! I've been trying to ask you out for months!" Sirius exclaims quickly. "Was I not clear enough?" His expression twists into one of worry at a startling pace. Remus just wants to reach out and pull all of the worry from him. "Because we can forget it ever happened! Y'know, if you don't... feel that way."

"No! No, I don't want to forget! I'd- well, I'd actually quite like to go on a date that I know for sure is a date," Remus explains.

At that, Sirius' face lights up, all traces to anxiety gone. Remus would say that over and over, if that's the reaction that he's going to get.

Merlin, Lily's right. He really is an idiot. How could he not tell before?

[mshroom1e]

Perfect | Azul x GN! Reader

May or may not be fully self-indulgent. Azul is just so heurkrhforif

type: fanfic

Summary: A short and sweet fic about Yuu comforting Azul about his insecurity.

628 words

tags: fluff

Warnings(s): theme of insecurity about weight

Azul stood in front of a mirror in his room, surveying two shirts, debating which one he should wear. You lazily rolled around in his bed, hugging one of his pillows while you watched him.

Recently, Azul had been worrying more and more about what clothes he wore. You weren't sure why, because you thought be looked stunning in everything and anything. Spending time with him was usually you listening to his rambles - he's had a lot on his mind lately.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, worried, "This one doesn't suit me as well as this one."

"Azul, the shirts literally look the same," you blinked, trying to see the differences he saw.

You rolled over again, managing to wrap yourself in one of his fuzzy, warm blankets. Picking up an octopus plushie, you held it over your head and smiled, the little stuffed toy reminding you of Azul standing in front of you.

"Honestly, I don't see what the problem is," you added.

Azul sighed, still looking at the shirts, "I've been surpassing my daily recommended caloric intake recently. It looks like I've gone a size larger again."

Ah.

So that's what it was.

After knowing Azul for a while, you learned about his childhood, mostly from the tweels and how round and cute he was as a kid. And from observing his eating habits and mannerisms when you spent time together, he definitely was one who worried - no, obsessed about how much he ate. When you brought snacks over on some days, he'd only eat one or two pieces before claiming he was no longer hungry or saying he'd save it for later.

When you confessed your feelings to him, much to his surprise, and started dating, Azul noticeably became more conscious about his appearance and started measuring himself almost religiously. You told him countless times that he had nothing to worry about- he was at a healthy size and he really didn't need to lose any more weight. Despite your constant reassurance, he was still one to worry.

Having had enough, you stood up and walked over to Azul without him knowing. He was too focused on worrying about what he was going to wear to notice you creeping up on him in his peripheral vision.

He mumbled words under his breath, furrowing his eyebrows. He would say, "I knew I shouldn't have eaten those cookies," or "They always go straight to my thighs," or "I'm getting squishy again..."

His body jolted when he felt your arms snake around his waist from behind him, your chest resting against his back, trapping his body in a back hug. The warmth from your body spread across his back and through his whole body, making him shudder slightly.

"Y-Yuu?"

"You know," You whispered right next to his ear, causing him to audibly squeak, "You're perfect just the way you are."

His body froze.

"My arms can fit around you snugly li~ke this," you gave him a gentle squeeze, "As long as you're happy and healthy, is there really a problem?"

You chuckled fondly at Azul. He was frozen in shock by the sudden ambush headed straight to his heart. He always worried about what you thought of him, so hearing you saying you believed he was already perfect meant the world to him. 

He let out a high pitched squeak when he felt you gently poke him in the stomach. He jumped back like a cat, eyes wide and a violent blush creeping up his neck.

"Gotcha~" you sang with a cheeky smile.

He stumbled over his words for a good 7 seconds before his voice cracked as he yelled, "Yuu!"

Azul spent the next 10 minutes chasing you around his room while you both erupted in fits of laughter.

[tennessoui]

Number 19 for the prompt thing. The parents meeting because of their kids. I’m kinda imagining Korkie being like a tutor/school reading buddy for the twins or something but you can just ignore that if it doesn’t match your thoughts on it.

hello!! i thought back as much as i could, and i don't think i actually did this prompt the first time around a couple of years ago, so there's nothing to link to save for the prompt list!

i stuck with korkie as obi-wan's kid and the twins as anakin's, but made the kids the same age and then took...a few more liberties with the prompt haha

(19. parents meeting while taking their kids to class) (sort of)

(2.8k)

“Leia, baby, why do you always decide to get into fights at school when it’s my week with you?” Anakin asks the steering wheel as he buckles himself in and turns over the engine. “They’re going to start thinking I’m raising a truant. Then they’re going to start asking about your home life, then they’re going to bring in experts to ask me more questions, then Padmé’s parents are going to throw their considerable legal weight around and get my partial custody revoked and then where will we be? Is that what you want? To only see me on your birthday and Christmas?”

Anakin pauses and reconsiders. Knowing his daughter, she may very well only want to see him for birthdays and Christmases. It would mean double the presents.

Thankfully the silence of the car doesn’t offer much in the way of constructive critique.

At a red light, he puts his head down on the steering wheel for a long enough moment that the car behind him honks when the light changes to green.

“They’re going to stop letting me leave work to come get you,” Anakin mutters a few minutes later as he turns the car into the school’s parking lot. “I have a partner meeting in thirty minutes that I really can’t miss, baby. Can’t you at least schedule your schoolyard fights around my calendar?”

It’s all rather pointless, but it feels good to grumble and bitch in the time it takes him to leave his office and arrive at the school, before he has to put on his adult face and demeanor to sit through another round of We’re Worried Your Five Year Old Is Too Violent As She Seems To View The Monkey Bars As Sacrificial Zones.

“Maybe she’d like hockey,” he says under his breath as he grabs his jacket from the other seat and swings it over his suit. It’s fucking freezing already, not even December. It’s indecent, that’s what it is. Surely a place as cold as this has a peewee hockey team in need of another angry little girl.

“Thank you,” he says when a woman holds the door open for him on her way out the building.

He’s stil sort of freaked out that the elementary school his children are going to is fancy enough to have an entrance hallway with a chandelier hanging from the ceilingk, but it’s not him that’s paying for their private school education that doesn’t offer discounts for all the collective hours they’ll spend napping on the floors.

To the immediate left of the door is the receptionist’s desk—behind her, the nurse’s room. He’s quite familiar with both. Mrs. Whitsdale even waves when she sees him, which means, unfortunately, she’s just made the shortlist of people Anakin needs to make Christmas cookies for. She joins the ranks of everyone else that’s been made to deal with his son and daughter in the tumultuous year after the divorce.

“Hi, ma’am,” he says dutifully, sticking his head into the receptionist area. “Do I need to sign in or can I just go up?”

She waves him away. “I’ve already got you, sweetheart. You’re late anyway, they’re waiting for you upstairs.”

“You’re a miracle amongst men,” he calls out as he turns instead to the right of the door and up the old staircase that leads to the principal’s office. This is also a route he is incredibly familiar with.

How can he be late? He practically flew here on light feet and broken speed limits. It’s enough to take his mood from bad to worse, which isn’t optimal for a meeting with the principal of the school when it’s his kid who caused the fight. Anakin’s role is to nonconfrontational, contrite to the point of groveling—because he knows his daughter won’t. 

That’s already hard enough when he’s feeling normal. It’s practically impossible when he’s feeling foul.

But Padmé did always say Leia got her stubbornness and temper from Anakin.

Anakin’s always said Leia never really had a chance considering who her parents are. 

After all, someone threw a hairdryer at the hotel mirror before they got divorced and it wasn’t Anakin. But he’s not stupid enough to even think that when Padmé’s around.

The big oak door at the end of the hallway on the second floor is elaborate, looks heavy, and stays closed. He knows that this is the headmaster’s office, but he’s never seen the guy around. He doesn’t even know what the guy does. What’s a headmaster of an elementary school doing every day? 

It’s an elementary school.

But, again. Anakin’s not paying for all this pomp and circumstance.

He takes another right instead, down the corridor in the opposite direction to the principal’s office. The door’s left ajar, and Anakin knocks politely before entering at the call to.

A couple of things bring him up short as soon as he steps into the room. For one thing, it’s not Principal Cinoff behind the desk, but a stranger who has the remnants of a three-piece suit on, jacket hanging neatly on a coat rack in the corner of the room. His vest is a deep red that should do nothing but drain his complexion—all pasty white skin, freckled and sun-starved, paired with his reddish hair and beard. It doesn’t, which is unfair to the point of duplicity. Or–something.

The way he’s sitting at the desk, hands spread wide on the wood and shoulders back, leaves no doubt in Anakin’s mind that the stranger is in a position of power here at the school. And probably in, like. Life. He looks like the kind of guy who gets his groceries on discount even without providing a loyalty card. He also looks like the kind of guy the system bends to accommodate. As a lawyer, Anakin is offended and deeply disturbed. That’s why his stomach does two or three flips in quick succession when they make eye contact.

The stranger’s eyes are cool and focused as they run over Anakin, and he gives him a perfunctory incline of his head. At least his eyes are warmer when they fall to the kids in front of him. 

And that’s the other thing that shocks him.

The amount of children in front of the desk. One pouting ginger kid off to the side, arms crossed and staring down at his light-up sneakers.

And then two very familiar heads of hair on the other side. 

“Luke?” He asks before he can stop himself, surprise dripping from his tone. “What are you doing here?”

At this rate, he’s going to give his daughter a complex, he knows it.

But Luke has never been in trouble before. Sure, they’re only five, and it’s only been three months of school, but in that time, Anakin’s been called down here six times to deal with Leia-related emergencies. He’s always imagined that meanwhile, Luke was in his classroom, chewing on crayons or diligently helping the teacher pass out homework assignments.

The stand-in principal coughs slightly and rises. “Ah, Mr. Skywalker-Amidala. Thank you for being able to join us today.”

Anakin scowls automatically before schooling his face into something far more diplomatic and pleasant when his children whirl around in their seats to look at him. The last thing he needs is for his children to think they can sneer at authority figures, given that he’s one of their main authority figures. 

Luke leaves his chair to hug onto his leg, pressing his small face into the fabric of his pants, presumably seeking comfort and also to wipe his face dry of tears and snot.

Anakin puts a hand on his head and strokes through his hair, darting a curious glance at Leia, who has turned around to glare forward again, arms crossed over her chest.

“It’s just Skywalker, actually,” he tells the stranger. “Amidala is their mother.”

The man’s eyebrow goes up and he picks up a pen to make a note on the papers before him. An actual note. Regarding Anakin’s divorce. “Ah, apologies then,” he says. “Our contact list notes you as the father, Skywalker-Amidala, and their mother as Amidala-Organa.”

Anakin squints, trying to decide if the stranger is just trying to correct a clerical error in the school’s records or fishing for gossip. He gives him the benefit of the doubt. “Amidala is their mother, recently remarried to Organa. Organas. And she’s always been better at remembering to file paperwork than I am.”

The stranger keeps his face admirably placid. “Ah,” he says. “Well, Mr. Skywalker. Should we begin?”

“Uh,” he says. “What about the other parent?”

The stranger blinks at him, both eyebrows raised. “I’m a widower.”

“Uh,” he says. “I meant…” he gestures at the other child, the surly looking ginger kid.

“I’m afraid it will just be us, Mr. Skywalker,” the stranger says. “Please, sit.”

Anakin sits, and Luke is quick to scramble up into his lap with a very plaintative, “I didn’t really mean to.”

“So at recess today, the children were playing on the swings,” the stranger who must be the principal for the day says. “And—”

“Sorry,” Anakin interrupts. “Can I get your name please? I was expecting Principal Cinoff.”

The man pauses. “Sheri has been put on sudden maternity-leave a few months early,” he says. “For the next couple of weeks, I’ll be dual-hatting as both principal and headmaster while we continue to search for a temporary replacement.” He raises an eyebrow at Anakin. Anakin really doesn’t appreciate that. “This was in an email the school sent out to all the parents recently.”

“Yes, well,” Anakin says. “I get a lot of emails.”

The man looks unimpressed. “I encourage you to prioritize the communications from your children’s learning institute.”

Anakin bristles. What a dick. Who the fuck says learning institute?

“I’m sorry, what’s your name?” he asks in his best unimpressed voice.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” the man’s unimpressed voice is ten times more chilling than Anakin’s, which is also not fair. “Please, call me Dr. Kenobi.” Anakin scowls. “I appreciate the fact that you feel as though you can cover the extremely busy roles of both headmaster and principal of an elementary school, but I would really rather wait until the other parent gets here so we can most productively discuss the altercation, Mr. Kenobi.”

“Please, Mr. Skywalker,” Kenobi says. “Leave the litigation to the court rooms, we—”

“It’s Esquire, actually.”

Kenobi’s face grows very pinched around the mouth and eyebrows. Anakin feels a vicious thrill course through him even as his stomach flips again.

“I suppose I should have made it clearer at the beginning of this session,” Kenobi says, tone dripping in you idiot. “This is my son, Korkie.”

Anakin’s mouth falls open. His immediate thought is, of course, Korkie Kenobi? And he thought Luke and Leia were too cutesy for twin names.

“Korkie is a family name,” Kenobi adds rather dryly. “My late wife’s grandfather’s.”

Anakin doubts that’s even true. He bets it’s not actually, that Kenobi just plays the dead wife card to get out of judgemental questions about his naming abilities.

But then another, worse thought occurs to Anakin. “Wait a second, you can’t be the parent and the principal!”

“I assure you, I am impartial.”

“Like hel—heck you are!” Anakin straightens in his seat and Luke lets out a grumble, clinging tightly to his front. “I demand a different authority.” “No,” Kenobi says firmly, as if the matter is at rest. This, of course, is absolutely infuriating.

“It’s unfair bias and I will not see either of my children punished in a tyrannical and self-serving institution—”

Kenobi pinches at the bridge of his nose. “Mr. Skywalker, unless you would like to have me call Mrs. Cinoff away from her pre-mature baby, I am the best option this school has. Please. Settle down.”

“Dad,” Leia says, “I don’t want to miss reading time.”

Anakin breathes out in disgust. Shitty, overpriced private school. This sort of thing would never happen at a publicly funded school.

“The fact of the matter is that Luke pushed Korkie off the swings,” Kenobi says with a stern look at both Luke and Anakin. He holds up his hand when Anakin opens his mouth. “An incident that many were witness to. And before you make an accusation, there were many witnesses who were not on the school’s payroll, Mr. Skywalker.”

Anakin closes his mouth sullenly.

“Korkie could have been very hurt, Luke,” Kenobi says, clasping his hands in front of him and looking down at Anakin’s son. “He was swinging pretty fast when you pushed him, and he could have broken his ankle in the fall.”

Luke’s bottom lip trembles. “I didn’t want to hurt him,” he mumbles, turning his face back into Anakin’s sleeve. “He was being mean. I just wanted him to stop.” “I wasn’t!” Korkie cries, sitting straight in his chair for the first time since Anakin’s arrived. “I wasn’t being mean, dad!” “You said Leia’s hair looks like cinnamon buns on her head!” Luke shouts back, pushing away from Anakin’s arms to glare at the other boy. 

Anakin winces. When it’s Padmé’s turn with the kids, Leia always turns up to school with elaborately braided hair, twisted on top of her head in elegant formations that look effortlessly pretty. He knows that’s not Padmé’s work, but he also can’t figure out if Breha or Bail is responsible. It’s not something he wants to ask.

The fanciest Anakin can do, after all, is two buns on either side of Leia’s head. 

That do, truth be told, look rather like cinnamon rolls.

“Ah,” Kenobi says. “I believe I understand the miscommunication here. Korkie, would you like to tell the Skywalkers what you meant when you told Luke that Leia’s hair looked like cinnamon buns?”

If possible, the kid turns even more red, blushing furiously. “I really like cinnamon buns,” he mutters, crossing his arms tighter. “They’re my favorite.”

“He’s started asking for them for breakfast several times a week,” Kenobi tells Anakin with a smile lingering around his lips. “I’ve been wondering why.”

Anakin isn’t sure he likes the explanation. Sure, Korkie can have whatever sort of crush on his daughter that he wants to have, but likening her hair to cinnamon buns isn’t very kind, and he’s pretty sure that if someone else was the judge in this trial, they wouldn’t be so quick to justify the other boy’s words.

Luke seems to agree with him. “Your hair looks like carrots,” he snaps, crossing his arms.

Because Anakin is an intelligent adult who understands that making enemies with the headmaster’s son isn’t the best move, he adds on the Skywalker family’s behalf, “Luke loves carrots.”

Luke, in fact, hates carrots. 

“There is still the matter of Luke pushing Korkie off the swing,” Kenobi says, eyebrows raised like he understands exactly what’s going unsaid here. “We do not encourage physical violence of any sort here, and it was dangerous. Korkie could have been hurt much more badly than a scraped knee.”

The words are very serious and grave, and Luke wilts under the headmaster-principal-father’s disappointed stare. Anakin bristles.

“Well, it’s his first infraction,” he says. “And he was sticking up for his sister. I think that’s fair. He won’t do it again.”

“Hm,” Kenobi says, pushing papers aside and pulling out a glossy leaflet. “Now, I cannot force you to consider this, but I noticed that neither Luke nor Leia are currently enrolled in any of our extracurriculars.”

“They’re five.”

“We have many on offer at Jedi Prepatory School,” Kenobi continues as if Anakin hasn’t said anything. “And I wanted to highlight our peewee hockey league. I think both Leia and Luke would enjoy the rigorous schedule, and they may…benefit from the…structure it offers. And team activity.”

Anakin glowers. He can read between the lines. Kenobi’s just called his parenting style structureless and lazy. It makes him want to grab the pamphlet and rip it to shreds in front of him. “I would have to talk about it with their mother,” he says stiffly instead.

“Of course,” Kenobi says cheerfully. “When you do, please give Bail and Breha my well-wishes as well. It’s been far too long since I’ve had the time to see them, given how exhastingly busy it is to be the headmaster and principal of an elementary school.”

“Right,” Anakin grits out. “Yeah. I’ll let my ex-wife’s new partners know.”

Kenobi’s smile is all teeth. “I look forward to seeing you in the rink, Mr. Skywalker Esquire. My son plays on the team.”

Anakin wonders if there’s another peewee hockey team he can have his kids join. Just so they can beat Jedi Prepatory school and then laugh in Korkie and Dr. Kenobi’s faces.

Yeah. That sounds really nice.

He’ll look when he gets back to work.

This takes priority.

[smutlord-supreme]

What would the COD MWII men do if they found out you had a stalker

[A little self indulgent peice since I had a scare last night. Getting stalked in like my specialty so let me know if you want a full length peice 🤪]

SFW short peice, COD men x GN! Reader, mostly platonic but can be read as romantic too.

Cw: Stalking

Price

-Price would be on top of it. Replacing locks, installing cameras anything to make you feel safe.

-He would make an effort to spend time with you more often, pick you up from work, drop you off ect. And when he couldn't he would try to get freinds to stay with you so you didn't have to be alone

-He would want you to call the cops and report it but he wouldn't be pushy if it makes you uncomfortable.

-If he actually met your stalker he'd let them know, in no uncertain terms, that if they continued they would never walk again.

Graves

-Graves would probably get violent the fastest of anyone on this list. He seems possessive so anyone threatening 'his girl/boy/partner' would be a no go.

-He would push you to report it to the cops and I don't think he'd take no as an answer.

-He'd also want you to call off of work while he did some 'investigation' of his own.

-He might even come home with a German Shepard puppy so that you can have a 'guard dog' which would end up being spoiled

Ghost

-I thinking Ghost would be the most analytical of the group. Which may make you think he's just brushing it off at first, when he's really just thinking up solutions.

-You already have a guard dog so he sets out and buys motion activated flood lights and trail cameras.

-He'd make sure you didn't have to do anything, he'd call your boss, change your number, call the cops if you wanted. All so you don't have to worry.

-The day after telling him you'd wake up to a pantry stocked with your favorite treats (which Gaz delivered so that Ghost wouldn't have to leave you).

Soap

-Soap would freak out at first, he'd ask you a million questions and probably make you panic before apologizing.

-He'd run you and bath and call either Ghost or Price to ask for advice.

-After you're done the both of you would go to the hardware store and booby trap the house, Home Alone style. Which would make you laugh.

-He would also set real safety measures in place, Window locks, Cameras, Alert system you name it.

-He would spend every moment distracting you while the problem got fixed.

Gaz

-Normally silly Gaz would become very silent when you told him. Quietly anger radiating off of him.

-I headcannon Gaz as having had bad anger issues as a kid which he got under control as he got older.

-Gaz would get up and put you in the shower while he made phone calls. Putting on your comfort show when you got out and sitting on the couch with you, rubbing your shoulder absent-mindedly.

-There would be a knock at the door and it would be one of his old police buddies. Gaz would apologize because he knew it would be hard to tell what happened, but it was important to get this guy caught.

-He'd stay home with you when he could and using his connections he would do whatever he could to get you an escort when he wasn't.

-When whoever was stalking you got caught he would roast the shit out of what they looked like (petty I know) making you laugh.

Alejandro

-Alejandro would be very vocal almost immediately, comforting and coddling you before setting off to fix the problem.

-He would round up Rudy and go find the person himself. Verbally (and maybe just a little physically) threatening them.

-He'd get back to comforting you as fast as possible though. Assuring you that you're safe and no one could harm you.

-He'd be more protective, almost overbearing for a week or two. He doesn't want this to ever happen again

-Depending on how bad it was he might adopt a little yappy dog (chihuahua, rat terrier, Yorkie, you know the type) to act as a first warning system and companion.

Rudy

-Rudy would start comforting you immediately, before making calls to freinds.

-Both Rudy and Alejandro don't trust the local police and army so it narrows down the number of people that can help. He'd probably go straight to Los Vaqueros.

-He would make you some comforting food while he waits for Intel. Sitting on the couch to eat instead of the dining table like normal.

-When the call finally came that your stalker had been captured he would go down to the base to confront them himself. Causing a nasty black eye before Alejandro pulled him off.

-Afterwards he'd teach you how to shoot. He wants you to be innocent and pure, but not at the cost of your life

[asocial-inkblot]

Things I Hope/d to See in the New ATLA Live Action Show

A source material-accurate Azula (duh) and Aang (the show's namesake!) with something extra added to both. See #7 and #8 for more on that.

Tweaked war-related plans that come across like they could reasonably be implemented in real life and which may be based on/allude to actual battle proposals from throughout history. I know little about these sorts of things but others have pointed out before that one of Sokka's plans, for example, may not have actually made much sense. And Ozai's plan near the end? Yeeaaahhhhh... I mean, I kinda get it in hindsight. But still. Let's have him come up with something better than that.

Appearances and clothing that call back to the ethnic groups and cultures that the show takes inspiration from (things are looking great on this front so far), but also

Eye colors like the ones from the original cartoon. This may seem petty but I find that it's actually important to use the right hues for each character and not just make everyone's eyes brown or black or gray (looks to me like that's exactly what they did). The reason being that, although I personally tend to dislike when non-white characters are given what I now call "white qualifiers" (meaning traits often used to make them still appeal to whiteness, such as light hair, light eyes, bone-straight hair, round eyes, etc.), in the context of the show, the eye colors are actually by and large ethnic characteristics and differentiators themselves. As I've noted before in a previous post from a while back: Ocean blue eyes = Water Tribes, brown and gray = usually Air Nomad or Earth Kingdom, amber or light tan = Fire Nation, with few exceptions for all of them.

Enough similarities for it to feel like ATLA but with enough differences that it's actually its own story. Again, duh, but we all know how often adaptations tend to get this part wrong.

An age rating that won't be used as just another excuse to shoehorn in as much violence, gore and sexual content as possible but instead to allow for the full illustration of the impact that war can have on a people and their society/traditions. We saw, imo, only little hints of this throughout the cartoon (when Aang found Monk Gyatso's remains is one extremely devastating example), but not near enough. I know the reason why, of course. However, things like that only helped sell the show short by not allowing it to fully flesh out into a world with true, viewable consequences.

An Azula who, from day one, is unquestionably made out to be exactly what she is: A child soldier who is also a victim of the war in a similar way to how the Gaang is. I want to see her allowed to show worry, even fear, either during or after a situation. Not because I don't love how kickass she is, but because at her age, level of trauma and amount of risk to her life everyday, she has all the reason to be more stressed from the get-go. Not to mention her family issues. I want Azula to clearly have anxiety or depression, something many of us can relate to. I also want that scene of her mental breakdown to STAY in some capacity, but be seen in-universe and hopefully—eventually—irl, too, as what it really was: A teenage girl pushed to her limits until she had no where left to step. Real, living people have had anxiety/panic attacks and meltdowns before and that didn't make them evil or any less worthy of sympathy. It only makes it that much more obvious how real Azula herself is, and how much she needed and deserved understanding.

I want an Aang who's allowed to cry, not once, not twice but over and over again as the weight of the burden of what it means to be a child avatar during a world war—and one who was out-of-commission for a century—start to take their toll on his mind, body and eventually spirit. After he reaches his breaking point, I want him to learn to forgive himself and even forgive others, and come back from it, stronger than ever.

A Toph who's tough but maybe a little less...umm... She should be/feel affected by the war too, okay? And have some level of guilt, fear or self-awareness at all times. So she should be like her original self, but deeper.

More Ursa pleeeaaaaaaassse. We know next to nothing about this woman and what we do know, still involves a lot of inferring. I need to know just what her beliefs were about the war and her family/relatives. I need to know if she...if she often feared for her or her children's lives!

A little less romance and a little more danger, planning and large platonic relationship growth as well as character growth.

Zuko actually learning something from his travels; early on, every time he meets someone/some new people, and on a regular basis. I also kinda want to see him have consequences for his actions. Not just that one time, where he was only a clueless 13 year old boy anyway. Doesn't have to be huge or bloody, but he needs to lose something every time he gains at the expense of another. The ATLA world (if not within the cartoon then definitely within the live action show) should have a real, tangible concept of Karma present, if it doesn't already. That would make so. much. sense.

If possible, a little more fleshing out of characters like Jet and the Freedom Fighters, Suki and the Kyoshi Warriors, Hama, Mai, Ty Lee, etc. And can we not demonize or shrug off victims anymore?

A still sexy Hakoda, Ozai and June. (I'm so sorry, don't hate me...)

An ending that won't make me break out in hives plez.

(That's it for now. I may come back here to add more.)

[underrated-adversaries]

Have you, like me, been submitting your favs to every poll you see only to pretty much never get in because you're, like, the only one to nominate them? If yes, then you've come to the right place!

This tournament is for underrated characters & ships (they will be separate polls within this blog) that you really want to have a chance but they just can't against the Doctor Who's and Critical Roll's of the world, all you need to do is submit them in one of the attached forms which you will choose based on what you want to submit. After that, when we've either reached the week mark or rounded up an appropriately daunting amount of submissions, whichever comes first, we will have prelims which will probably be the longest lasting round. All and I mean all submitted favs will be in the prelims pretty much no exceptions unless they break the rules. Speaking of!

~The Rules~

(sorry they're so long)

• While the media the favs come from doesn't necessarily have to be underrated the fav has to be. For example Ace Attorney in it of itself wouldn't be underrated but characters could be, you could theoretically submit Ron DeLite and have him get in but you couldn't necessarily submit Edgeworth and have him get in.

• That being said I will make some caveats for things from super popular media like Star Wars for example because while a character could be underrated when somethings that popular its bound to have a ton of people know it no matter how underrated or obscure, I may be swayed with some convincing but don't get your hopes up.

• Some things I will inevitably have to ask about, because while some things are super popular I inevitably will not know something, so if I ask about something that should be common knowledge please don't make fun of me.

• Harry Potter isn't allowed here both due to the super popular media clause and also because I'm trans and don't want to worry about that stuff in my silly little tumblr tournament.

• Don't go ham on threats no matter how joking please.

• I am one person and also I've never done a tournament before and therefore know practically nothing about setting up brackets, please take this into account if you want to criticize however I end up doing it.

• Feel free to send propaganda in my asks! Also please tag me in it! Reading propaganda is my favorite part of other tournaments!

Additional notes - Macaque, Sun Wukong, MK, Mei, and Red Son from Lego Monkie Kid are all confirmed entrants as is Sebastian Debeste from Ace Attorney.

Confirmed ships are Shadowpeach, Spicynoodles, and Chimera also from Lego Monkie Kid if you want to submit other characters and ships from Lego Monkie Kid go right ahead!

Mod is @melodemonica

Character Form

Ship Form

Since a lot of other blogs seem to tag other blogs for reach I'm just gonna tag my favorites - @powerpolyculeshowdown @autismswagsummit @angerissuescompeticion @i-need-to-fuck-that-old-man @qpr-competition

tags are in order: underrated adversaries - main tag/for character polls, adversarial relationships - tag for ship polls, olly commentary - pretty self explanatory just olly's (the mod's) commentary, underrated advertisements - propaganda tag, askversaries - ask tag, alternate adversaries - other polls

[transbunnyboi]

Okay i also need to ask some embarassing questions but i trust you to not be weirded out.

I just now got the option to finally get some toys because im hella frustrated. But i have like zero experience with all of it. Just any tips on what to look out for? (Just for dildos and i want some nice shapes, not boring normal dick)

Feel like im in heat and just so frustrated because i fuck it up to get off so often.

Im new here, im sorry if this is to inappropiate.

Don't worry!! This is not embarrassing whatsoever, and trust me, I don't weirded out often :3 So, your question! Obviously, you already have a clear view on what you want, which is good!! It depends on what stimulates you the most, but personally, since you're just starting, I'd rec a 4-6 inch toy first off. Fingers are usually a little under 3 inches long (or at least mine are) so depending again on what you'd like, I'd recommend that!! My first toy was 5 inches long.

For me, although I just spend a minute talking about lengths, it's actually the thickness and texture on it that helps the most with stimulation. A 2-3 inch wide toy was (and still is) perfect for me starting out, but you may want/need bigger depending on how used to it you are and what your body shape is.

Anything with ridges or bumps, I literally cannot recommend this more. If the toy only has ridges on one side and you feel yourself getting bored or it's not enough stimuli, turn the toy around. Trust me. The head/tip of the toy also matters! Most comfortable for me is a typical tip (round) but tapered/pointed tips also feels good, and has the sense of hitting even deeper (though, only do this if you have a thing for deep/cervix penetration, as this can be quite uncomfortable, especially if you got a longer toy with a tapered head)

Tapered tipped heads are actually really common with most fantasy dildos, which include dragon, dog/werewolf and of course, tentacles.

I've purchased all of my toys from bad dragon, so I don't know many other companies aaaa I'm sure you can find cheaper alternatives easily, though :3

My apologies if this wasn't a very helpful guide!!! :3

[rock-swag-tournament]

Rock Swag Tournament Round 1: Igneous Rocks Part 12

So many of your here may know of obsidian. I haven't a clue why.

For those of you unfamiliar, obsidian is a form of volcanic glass, but it is not the only one! Tachylite is obsidian's much less well-known sibling.

Now, I'm going to go against everything I talked about in earlier posts, because while obsidian is black (or sometimes a reddish-brown) it is FELSIC! That babey has very few of those dark mafic minerals, but the little bit of iron and magnesium combined with the quick cooling (and therefore lack of individual crystals) gives obsidian this dark color.

Tachylite on the other hand is mafic! It, like obsidian is a volcanic glass that cools very quickly and lacks mineral grains, but it does contain all those dark mafic minerals at the top of Bowen's Reaction Series.

Also, I wanted to take the time to correct a small misconception in that post about obsidian weaponry. And I'm not here to spoil the fun, don't worry. I do adore that post and it makes me laugh whenever I see it. This is instead, a bit of an archaeology lesson. More under the cut.

While the geologist in question argues that an obsidian knife would make a poor weapon because it volcanic glass, I am here to say that obsidian was actually frequently used for weaponry and tools (and that ended up being a very good thing for archaeologists)!

Now, I will admit that these obsidian artifacts are often on a smaller scale: things like arrowheads and small blades and not long knives. One form of weaponry, the macuahuitl, was made by embedding small obsidian blades into a club!

The reason obsidian is actually an effective weapon is because it is easy to work with and very sharp. While it is certainly more prone to breakage than metal when banged against hard objects, it makes for an extremely sharp and effective blade when used for slicing, rather than to cause blunt force trauma. In fact, a freshly broken piece of obsidian can be sharper than a steel blade. So it certainly isn't out of the question to make an use an obsidian knife. You just might have to be a bit more careful when swinging it around near hard surfaces.

I should also note that these artifacts were made through a process called knapping, wherein someone strategically chips away at a piece of material (often flint, obsidian, or some other material that has conchoidal fracture, or fractures in a way that shows concentric lines similar to growth lines on a shell) to form a shaped tool, weapon, blade, etc.

Here's an obsidian arrowhead. It has been shaped to have notches where it could be affixed to the shaft of an arrow, a pointed tip, and sharp, thin edges that would cut through the hide of the creature being hunted.

So, obsidian was used for tools and weapons that necessitated slicing more than banging. And an obsidian sword probably wouldn't be very effective. If you bang it against the stone battlement by accident, it'll break. And I could believe that the force needed to stab someone clean through with a sword would cause an obsidian blade to break. I haven't tested this theory. But when used as a small cutting blade affixed to something like a club or an arrow, its pretty effective! If they weren't effective, people wouldn't have used them so much throughout history.

And that brings me to why obsidian artifacts are so important for archaeology! Volcanoes have their own unique geochemical signatures, which means we can trace pieces of obsidian back to the volcano from which it erupted.

This is incredibly helpful for archaeologists who want to learn about things like trade and travel between ancient peoples. If you find an obsidian arrowhead a thousand miles from the volcano from which that obsidian came, you know that a person had to travel a thousand miles to move that piece of obsidian. Volcanic rocks don't really move a thousand miles from their source without a little human intervention. A real person at some point in time had to help that rock out! It's endlessly fascinating, that least to me.

Anyway, if this rant proves anything, it is that I, too, would be prone to getting hit by a baseball bat while I rant about obsidian blades in a somewhat more archaeologically-informed way!

[poisvy]

WILLIAM AFTON; JEALOUSY

art credits to @/micovvea

plot; in which William gets jealous of Henry and he couldn't resist more the necessity of you.

tw! this content may be disturbing for some people. blood kink; spanking; pussy spanking, obsession; hard biting; degrading; possession; impact play; fingering; multiple rounds; overstimulation; cunnilingus; voyeurism; exhibitionism;

let me know if i miss one

genre; smut

word count;3.9k

you were working on Freddy Fazbear's Pizza for some extra money. you wanted to buy so many things and didn't want to bother your parents.

your boss, William Afton, was so nice since you arrived. always he pass to the prize counter, where you were working, asked you how you were, and how the working was going, if it was being hard for you, and stayed with you chatting.

you liked him, a mature man, a man who worries about you, and so so attractive. every time you see him passing by or talking with you, you fight the urge to stare at him for too long, or just look at all his facial features, aah, and how could you forget, his voice, his deep and sexy voice. the British accent makes you wetter every time you hear his voice. in short, the man is perfect.

you were at the prize counter, as always. your hand resting on your cheek, bored, you were so bored. there was a birthday party at the establishment so there were no other people entering on the pizzeria because it was rented for that night. people only ask you where was the bathroom or if there were any napkins left.

usually, your boss didn't really show up at these parties, there was nothing much for him to check, only if there were any problems with the animatronics. but you saw him, he was coming out of the hallway, you supposed he left his office.

William looks at you and smiles at you, your heart flatter, you couldn't believe he was so hot and sweet at the same time. he was a very hot specimen. William starts walking in your direction and you straighten up. once he arrived, he bows and rests his forearms on the prize counter, you backed away from the close that his face was.

"bored?." William says slightly smiling at you. you could feel his gaze on you, devastating.

"just a little, after all, they just ask for napkins and where the bathroom is." William chuckled.

"you know, you don't have to be here, after all, there's not much you can do here, go take a rest " he says and you felt relieved, it was tiring being there doing nothing.

"thank you so much, Mr. Afton." you smiled at him. you stayed there, you didn't know what to do now, you didn't want to leave him there.

you see how Henry was passing behind William, he was heading in your direction. Henry and you talk a lot, he was more in charge of treating people, (even if he is mechanical), while William worried more for the animatronics. henry is a really extroverted person, or at least more approachable than William; so he takes care of people when there is a problem.

Henry arrived at the prize counter. "Hey William!, it's weird seeing you out of your office." Henry laughs but William's face was dead serious.

"ah! I was searching for you." Henry says looking in your direction

"me?" you said tilting your head to the side, that was weird.

"yep, I need your help with something." Henry was totally ignoring William, and William didn't seem happy, he seem furious, that's weird too, you thought there were friends.

"I'm sorry Mr.Afton, I come back in a minute" you said looking at William trying to see if his expression changed. he looked at you at nodded his head, but with the same expression.

You came back to the prize counter and William wasn't there. okay, you thought that it was obvious that he isn't going to stay there as you came back, he is a busy man.

Your shift was about to end, it was almost 22 pm, so you waited at one of the tables for it to end.

after some minutes passed, you see how William arrived again at the prize counter, so you go there.

"oh, Mr.Afton, my shift is gonna end in 10 minutes, so I wasn't on the prize counter because you told me to rest " you say to him a little embarrassed that you just sit there for the last minutes of your shift.

"it's okay" you watched a fake smile on his face, was he still mad? why?.

"What did Henry want" it was not a questioning tone, it was a demanding tone of voice.

"h-he wanted to check the factures of the day and ask me some questions about that" you stutter, you have never heard his tone of voice coming out of William's mouth, you have to admit that was scary but so hot at the same time.

"would you mind accompanying me to my office 'atta; girl'?" William asked, and you were stranged, maybe he wanted to discuss something about work; because you couldn't think of another thing.

you arrived at William's office. you stay stand on the door frame as he closed the door, with secure. you were so nervous, his office smelled like him, whiskey and cigarettes, there was some kind of aromatic that you image he puts trying to cover the smell but that didn't work.

"you can sit on my chair, it will stay stand" he says as lay his weight on the desk just in front of his leather chair. you sat on the chair, feeling like he was going to tell you off.

he sighs and looks at you. "you don't know how jealous I am, I cant save this anymore." wait what, what?!, did he just say that? omg, that was unexpected.

"w-what, about what sir, I don't get it." at this time William was just looking at you with a serious face, he wasn't responding and the tension in the air was incrementing little by little.

"I said…" he started to sit on his calves just in front of you, and so close to your face. "I can't save this, this urge, this feeling"

"Henry is always so nice to you, you smile at him a lot and he always searches you for something, I want to kill him and have you all for me." William's words send shivers down your spine, you were scared of what he said but something in you liked it, you wanted him to have you, you wanted him to make you his property.

“love” he caress you cheek, and you laid you head to his hand. “let me have you, let me make you mine”

“William” you grabbed his other hand and place it on you lips, you insert his thumb in your mouth and play with it, biting, licking and sucking on his finger. “make me yours, I want to be your property”you looked at him with puppy eyes. you were making such a strong eye contact with him.

“I will not let anyone have you” he gets his thumb out of your mouth and kissed you. The kiss was full of need and possession, biting and sucking your lips, slightly licking your bottom lip. You moaned against his mouth, you were feeling so good and just for a kiss.

“William… im yours… fuck..i have always been yours.” You said into kisses and moans.

“that’s right darling.. always…” both of you stand and you push him into the desk kissing him again, your hands on the side of his hips. William seen surprised for this action, and you felt how he smirk before changing the position roughly to the same but inverted. Now he was with his hands on the side of your hips resting his height on the desk behind you, he stopped the kiss to say something. “I command here love, don’t get confused, even if you are my weak spot, I take the lead here.” William look at your eyes intensly while telling this, you wasn’t mad, you liked it, you like this possessive and dominant side of him.

"i think i may have to punish you, mmh?, to remind you where your place is." he grabbed your throat and kissed you again, this one was more violent and fast, the grab on your throat was strong, enough to keep you still. suddenly you felt an intense sting on your lip and something dripping all over your chin. william turned away to see what he did. he bitted you so hard that make your lip bleed, his chin was covered in blood, it looked like a vampire that just got his meal. you felt how the blood was dripping from your chin, it wasn't a big cut but was enough to make you bleed really intensely.

william approached you and liked the blood that was coming out. "your blood is soo delicious darling, i wonder what other thing may be delicious in you." he said smirking, he looked so sexy with his chin and teeth covered in blood.

william turns you abruptly and presses your face to the desk. "it's time to teach you a lesson." he takes off your pants and underwear in conjunct so roughly that makes you wetter than you already were.

he passes his hand all over your ass, just touching it. straightway you felt a hard spank on your ass, you gasped from the sudden hit and felt how the skin there was getting red. after a couple seconds, you felt how it ached. "i want to make this skin as red as can possibly be." then he kissed that cheek. "can you count for me, love?"

"y-yes." you were out of breath, even if you haven't moved, that spank was devastating hard. "one..."

william continued spanking you, 5.., 7.., 10. you felt your ass so red, the parts where he spanked burned so much and you were drooling, your pussy was so wet, your juices were dripping all over your thighs.

"look what we have here, you dripping darling, should i punish you for being this wet?." you nodded, you were such a masochist, you wanted him to treat you without any respect, manhandle you, degrade you, you needed this. "wow what a slut, and think of that shy employee who always was so servicing for me is such a whore, do you like when i call you whore, hmm?."

"yess sir, im your whore" you said moving your hips in need of friction. "of course you are, from who else could you be slut"

the blood in your lip and chin should be already dry, but the saliva that was coming out from your open mouth doesn't let it.

"open more your legs for me pretty" you do what he tells you, you open your legs as much as you can, you needed everything he has to give you.

william chuckled. "what a neddy little slut" you feel another spank, but not on your ass, but in your pussy. this spank makes you jump, the ache was as painful as pleasant.

"look how wet my hand is just from touching your dripping cunt, you should be embarrassed" right no there was no time to be embarrassed, all you can think of is in him, him fucking you, him eating you out, him spanking you, his voice, his cock, how messy his hair would be if you pull it while he fucking you with his tongue, his eyes seen you with lust. his, his, his, his, him, him, him, him.

you felt another spank on your cunt, this one was harder. you start sobbing, you didn't really know if you were crying out of pleasure or pain, but in any case, it felt good.

"i don't hear you counting." william says with a cold tone of voice.

"two.." other spank. "t—three.." other one. "four" other one. "f—five" and like that until teen. at this point you were so horny, neddy, dripping and desperate, this was overwhelming. your cheeks were wet for your tears, your chin wet too for your spit, and your eyes were looking at the back of your head. you needed him.

"i think this is enough, let's make you feel good after all you deserve it for handling this like such a good little girl". you felt william’s tongue on your pussy, he have you a long lick, all over your line. You whine at this, after all the pain and slight pleasure this was so worthy.

William starts eating you out, kissing, licking, sucking on your clit, rubbing his tongue and mouth all over your wet pussy. You couldn’t stop whining, you were so close to cum, after not cumming for that much time, you were sensitive to the touch of him.

You reach you high almost immediately after he starts devouring your pussy. “ow, you already cum? That’s a shame because im not gonna stop until im satisfied. he came back to devouring you. You were being overstimulated, there were no coherent words coming out of your mouth, you were moaning so loud, and you didn’t care about people hearing you, all you care about was the pleasure and pain you were feeling. The thing about being overstimulated was that it felt so desperately hurtful and the pleasure was so devastating.

Your clit hurt so much and your hips couldn’t stop moving trying to get away from william’s tongue. William grabbed your hips so you couldn’t move, his grip was so hard that you were sure you will have marks later.

After the pain was gone you started feeling that pure pleasure again, after some time you cum again, and the moment you cum, William inserts a finger into your pussy searching for your g-spot. You couldn’t handle the pleasure, you were trying to move and get off of his grip but his grip was insanely strong.  You turn into a babbling mess, your juice was all spilled on your thighs and william’s face. Again the painful pleasure becomes a pure pleasure, and William adds another finger, then he finds your g-spot, you tried to get up for the pleasure that he caused for touching that place; “bingo” that was dangerous.

He began fingering you without compassion, you couldn’t do it anymore, you give up on trying to escape his grip and just stayed there on his desk whining and squirming. Your eyes were hardly closed there was spit all over the desk and a bit of blood from before.

You felt your third orgasm hitting as hard as you had never been hit. William stopped after you third and start biting really hard on your ass and thighs, you cry out for the painful biting. “that’s is a permanent mark”.

William gets up and grabbed you by your shoulders. “look how wrecked you are, unlucky you because I am not done” you were so tired, you put your hands on the desk trying to keep you stand as William's grip was on your shoulders.

He turned you to have a look at your face. ”that’s the face that I wanted to see on your face, so helpless” he started kissing you, you felt a metallic taste in his mouth, you guessed that the bites he left on your thighs were blooding and his lips were full of that blood, even if the bites he left were deep as you already know from the kiss he has you that it doesn’t need to be a deep bite for it to blood.

In your dizziness you wanted to make him feel good, you wanted to hear him whimper. You put your hands on his chest and start lowing them until you grabbed his belt and take it off, you start rubbing your hand on his crotch, feeling his hard cock through his pants, you wanted to see it, you wanted to taste it.

You looked at him in his eyes and give him a peak, and start pulling his cock out of his pants. when his cock was totally out, you stared at it, admiring it, his cock was thick and long probably 8 inches and so veiny, that was so hot, his cock was somehow perfect for you, design it for you, you wanted it in your mouth, feel his veins on your lips and his warm on your tongue.

you crouched down without losing eye contact and your hand on his chest feeling his abs hidden by the shirt, even if he was so tall and skinny he still had abs and well-maintained ones, still in his 40's he looked so fucking good and had the stamina of a horse.

your face finally reach his crotch and you stared at his cock for a little too long. "im noticing that you like it, how about you prove it, come on babe, put it in your mouth".

you followed his instructions, you start licking his veins one by one, taking your time to taste it, then you lick his tip passing your tongue and lips for it. you heard william whimper, you wanted to hear more of it, so you started inserting his length into your mouth, slowly, his dick was so big that you can just put it all on your mouth, so at the sight that it was being a little harder for you to take it, william put his hand on your hair massaging it basically telling you to take of your time, and after the intense eat out that he gave you, you needed to take time on it.

you could fit just half of his length into your mouth, you looked up at william and he was with his head up in pleasure, enjoying. you started moving your head making his cock go in and out of your mouth, even if just a part of his dick could fit in your mouth you noticed that he was enjoying it. he start making force on your head for you to continue and do it faster, you did it of course since he had his hand on your head putting pressure on it for you to take all his cock.

your movements were fast and trying to fill his length in your mouth. he was whispering in the felt of your tongue on his tip and the rest of his cock in your throat. in a second he put both of his hands in your head and start forcing the entrance of his cock into your throat. you grabbed his thighs to try to cushion his thrusts, your eyes were going to the back of your head and spit was all over your chin, your felt used, he was using you as if you were a toy to his cock, you don't mind anyways, it felt good to be used that way.

His movements were the definition of ‘chasing your orgasms’, he was so lost in his pleasure that he didn’t notice that his well know college and best friend was watching through the window of the door. He looked at him and smirk, Henry didn’t notice this he was so focused in you and how your head was moving. William wanted to make clear who you belong to.

He takes his cock out of your mouth and you breathe heavily, searching for air. You looked up at him with frowned eyebrows trying to guess what stopped him, he seen to be feeling so good. William grabbed your face with a strong grip, making your lips seem more voluptuous, and kissed you, his tongue searching for yours, whining between heavy breaths. He pushed your head back to stop the kiss and a string of saliva connecting each other mouths could be seen.  

You looked at each other admiring your faces, so messy.

“get up” William says in a demanding tone. You did it with shaky legs for the time you were kneeling. He gave you a little kiss before putting you in a position where Henry could see how he make you of him. At the side of the desk, so henry could see how he pounds your wet cunt.

your back was resting on the desk and you were looking at william; he haved a mischievous smile on his face, and that scared your, after all he did, yes, because what more he could do to you. oh, believe me, he had a lot of plans for you in mind, but not all of them for today.

he plant his lips on your neck and grabbed your thighs and sit you on the desk.

you were submerged in pleasure, in a cloud which you didn't want to come down, you wanted more and more.

you grabbed his hair trying to keep the tickle on your neck, william kissed you again and started touching your nips and with the other hand positioning his length between your legs.

his cock started to enter your insides, and you whine, he was so big, tears were coming off your eyes for the burning pleasure on your crotch. the grab on williams hair passed to his shoulders scratching your nails on it.

William looked at the door, just where henry was, he was still there, noticed by how you moaned and looked, the pornographic scene made henrys cock hard, he started touching himself over the pants, and looking at the face of pleasure that you were making, fuck, he never imagines he will be the one watching and not doing it to you.

William stopped looking at him, and centered his eyes on you, and how you were seeing him, with sinful eyes, telling him to make you a mess. He, of course, did what you wanted.

William started moving his hips back and forward in slow and hurtful movements. You moaned louder every time his pelvis collided with yours, your front was bathed in sweetness, your eyes were watching at williams, his sigh and yours were so breathtaking, it made more intense the situation with your arms supported on the table so the thursts would make your lose your balance.

He started hitting that spot, that sweet and pleasant spot, you moaned louder and williams thursts started getting harder and faster. William place his thumb on your clit and started rubbing it, he liked it, no, he loved seeing how your body started shaking trying to manage the pleasure that you were feeling, he loved seeing you squirming in front of him.

At this point you were just a babbling mess. “plis, plis william, cum, cum with me, please please” you whine, so desperate to cum.

William couldn't hold it anymore, he started giving desperate and thusts with no rhythm. You were handling on his shoulders, with your head hanging back.

Henry felt guilty for watching this scene and left but left to manage his boner in the bathroom listening to your moans.

You reached your orgasm for the... you didn't know, you stopped counting at some point. William seconds later cum, and your felt how his warm seed painted your walls white.

You were out of breath, your chest was so agitated and your sigh started to get fuzzy, william was in the same condition, out of breath but he still got energy, he will leave it to later, later when you were restored.

"i loved it" you said looking at williams chest and warping your hand on his.

"lest continuing this on another site, yes? i know you are tired and i want you as restored as possible for what a have left to do to you." you smiled.

After that, you showered in william's house and continue doing it for the time you were there an incredible time.

[oliveroctavius]

Thoughts on Lily Hollister?

Oh man, I've been thinking about her a lot recently. She's from a period of ASM that I do not always like or understand but she fascinates me as a character.

I remember my first impression of her and Carlie being a cynical "Okay, MJ and Gwen 2.0". I still think she was introduced as part of a "back to basics" push to assemble a neo-CBG, but I have no hard feelings there. Parallel civilian drama is always a plus in a Spidey comic and they are quite cute.

But—as a big HarryMJ fan—this isn't really a rehash. (And not just because Harry is now also meant to be a ditzy glamorous party guy.) MJ was just a teenager dicking around while Lily's non-party goals are political and focused. Note that this "love triangle" kicks off when she realizes Peter is an insider at a paper that opposes her dad. I wasn't reading the letters, but—surely someone guessed Menace's identity the moment "he" turned out to be backing Hollister, right?

She's definitely pulling Harry's strings on the politics side, but isn't emotionally avoidant and spends a lot of private time with him. (If we believe her later, worry about his well-being triggered her origin story.) It seems fair to say she appreciates familial devotion.

ASM #586 is my favorite flavor of Spidey Reveal. The villain is someone we knew and almost trusted, and when we look back the seeds of motivation are there, paralleling our protagonist for dramatic tension! Your dad whose reputation you're curating loves your roommate more than you, you say? He always wanted a son, you say?

There's a deliciously Lady Macbeth flavor to this whole speech.

That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold. What hath quenched them hath given me fire. My hands are of your color, but I shame To wear a heart so white.

Come, you spirits That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full Of direst cruelty!

"Okay, you won't be jealous?" she asks seemingly genuinely, in a voice so deep and a body so muscular that everyone has he/him-ed it up until now. The ongoing goblin theme of violence = power = masculinity is blinking neon here. Obvious jokes about Harry's taste in women aside: what kind of philosophy does a woman have to have to be attracted to what the Osborns represent, thinking she's special enough to not be chewed up and spit out?

And she does say she still loves him! You could read that as a manipulative lie, but to me it's more interesting if she does like Harry in her condescending way.

After all, she seems to love her dad similarly, going behind his back to "support" him in ways he'd never want.

It's too bad that this super-intense characterization of Lily is mostly only retrospective. ASM #588 and the jig is up.

Hie thee hither, That I may pour my spirits in thine ear And chastise with the valor of my tongue All that impedes thee from the golden round, Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem To have thee crowned withal.

It's very possible that the gender element is writers being weird about a black woman as a love interest. (I have a whole thesis on how Black side characters are compared/contrasted to the Osborns somewhere.) But I believe that just a little weirdness can add flavor. It seems significant that Menace, as Lily's fantasy of power denied to her, reads as a nonblack male, as though she hopes that becoming an Osborn will grant her whiteness, too...

Unfortunately, I don't think anything has lived up to that reveal. It kind of feels like nothing has even tried.

[sighs extremely deeply] American Son. Throwing out her whole villain speech to have her bear a super-soldier goblin son for Norman to use as the next Real Osborn.

Macbeth once says to Lady Macbeth:

Bring forth men-children only, For thy undaunted mettle should compose Nothing but males.

But that's right after Lady Macbeth says she'd murder her own baby with her bare hands if it was personally politically advantageous. Why is Lily "if you want something done right, steal your man's role and do it yourself" Hollister now an obedient heir-producing accessory? And that to a guy she beat the crap out of in ASM #571 for being a waste of rich white dude advantages?

We have gone all the way to the other side of Weird. Where did her jealousy and personal ambition and all the weight behind it go? Where's her guilt for ruining her relationship with her father for good? Why is she calling Norman "babe"?

Origin Of The Species (ASM #642-6) makes some attempt to reconnect to the original character threads with the whole friend group banding together to deal with the fallout of Lily's decisions.

But she still feels mostly like a plot device, and her guilt is more wet blanket than "out, damned spot" levels of satisfying. (She jumped to murder to bolster the name of someone who would never have wanted that! Are we ever going to come back to that part!)

Protecting her child from Norman should redefine her allegiances, but she just... got dragged back to bit-part appearances as an accessory to whichever goblin is the biggest deal at the moment. And got memory wiped for a while and became a black cat ripoff.

I feel like this wouldn't have fallen so flat if Bill Hollister hadn't vanished right after her reveal. Did he ever know about his grandson? A severely underrated element of the classic CBG is how many of their parents/mentors knew each other independently of the kids. The larger web of political + financial + circumstantial connections meant that interpersonal family shockwaves stuck around after the first arc, doubled back, mirrored each other in interesting ways. These should've! This should've.

God this post got long. TLDR crazy first arc that nothing else has even remotely lived up to in my mind yet; it would have to follow up on her bonkers family relationships and deeply jealous personal philosophy (or whatever's left of it).

[quimichi]

It's me the little guy Fae >:3 and I'm here for your match up event

Fandoms

Honkai and/or genshin

Pronouns

She/they

Hobbies

Illustration, crochet, embroidery, watercolor, gaming, TTRPGs (tabletop role-playing games) like DND, putting my characters through absolute hell (writing)

Gender preference

With fictional characters I prefer men but I love me a tall sexy evil Woman

Personality

Don't listen to what my hobbies say about me, I'm actually a chaotic little shit who runs circles around my friends. I do my best to give support when needed whether it be mentally or with a technical issue but I'm sure you knew this stuff before because we are friends on here. Though I will say I am depressed and that may impact the character I may or may not get matched with.

Fun facts

I really like foxes :)

And jellyfish :))

While it's not common enough to be a hobby I do know how to sew

My favorite colors are pastel pink and yellow

Well I prefer a cottagecore aesthetic for myself I actually don't prefer that in a partner.

I'm not a Neuvillette main but my autistic ass will go off about water (different bottles of water have completely different tastes you cannot change my mind)(also cold water tastes sharp and warm water tastes round I will not be taking criticism on this)

I don't have a green thumb per se because all my plants are suffering but they stubbornly cling on to life no matter how much I neglect them.

If you need more you know where to find me

A/n: I'M SORRY BESTIE BUT MY HEAD WENT "DOMESTIC" THE ENTIRE TIME---

ARLECCHINO

@ NO CAUSE HEAR ME OUT

@ you loce cottage core, and your hobbies are stuff like crochet and watercoloring. Its cute and i feel like Arlecchino matches that somehow??

@ listen, she is much more softer than she looks. She loves the kids and does really care about them, i think this cute little domestic life would fit her and would also be a dream for her

@ although she grows the kids into the fatui, she loves them dearly, can't show it tho-

@ but anyway--imagine sitting side by side near a fireplace while she reads a book and you do your thing beside her. No talking, just enjoying each others company

@ loooves to do domestic things with you, like cooking together, baking a cake, reading a book, crochet or bathing together.

@ i think she can do embroidery and crochet but not so good-teach her, she will actually listen. She's a little tsundere but she'll listen and she will learn pretty fast.

@ it's important that the twins and freminet like you, they visit quite often or she visits them. If they don't like you, or any of the kids in the house of the hearth, she would be quite skeptical about you then

@ lucky for you cause...they love you, duh?? Who wouldn't.

@ you're very parental, you give great comfort and you like to play with the kids.

@ and Arlecchino loves to watch lol

@ now to your depressed state. She will take it very seriously and will tell you so many times to rest and take care. She would give you the best tea from liyue, only the best watercolors from Fontaine, and the best baked goods so you can relax.

@ she would also leave you your space if needed. It wouldn't really bring her down, she would just be worried about you, but as a strong woman she wouldn't show it to you, that would only bring YOU down.

@ so dw, daddy Arlecchino will take care of everything. And if someone bothers you...well...you know...

GEPARD

@ listen it was hard for hsr ok---

@ for some reason I see you with Gepard---

@ also for the same reasons as Arlecchino, the little domestic life won't go out of my head for you-and Gepard also fits this

@ like-he comes home from work, also brought some goods from the bakery so you both can enjoy some sweets after dinner (which you both prepare together) and then after dinner and dessert you both cuddle on the couch while watching the snowflakes dance outside Belobog

@ if you ever decide to crochet him idk socks or something, he will wear them with pride. Even if they're pink with glitter, he ADORES them.

@ wears them under his gear lol. Like Belebog is cold he appreciates any warmth that he gets. And what is warmer than your love~♡

@ (I'm disgusting-)

@ super shy, we all know, so it took him a bit to gain the confidence to ask you out- I can see you being friends with Serval so--Imagine asking out the friend of your sister?? Yeah I'd piss myself too-

@ but Serval was pretty supportive sooo dw, it all worked out very well

@ ans Lynx is also not complaining with you so the relationship is blessed ♡

@ helps around the house, he was raised good :)

@ also, if he has every a free day and you have to work, he takes care of the things at home and cooks for you ♡♡♡

@ also runs you a bath. Spends his entire day making you smile when you come home.

@ very overprotective too. Can't stand seeing you sad or having a bad day or depressed episode, so he does everything in his power to change that

@ even if it means for him to act like a complete idiot just to see a smile, cause trust me, he would

[livingintheupsidedown]

A Different Kind Of Valentine

Steve Harrington x Reader

[1k] - Dustin may be a teenager now, but he’s always going to be your little brother.

Warnings - like 1 swear? dustin being an annoying (but loveable) little brother there are no warnings this is just fluff

A/N - this is a belated valentines blurb that i was supposed to finish ages ago, i also tried a different style and added more dialogue, let me know what you think!

You and Steve had never celebrated Valentine's day, you never really had the chance. With every interdimensional monster that liked to show its face in Hawkins, putting aside a specific day to celebrate your relationship became the least of your worries. It didn’t mean your relationship lacked love in any way, you and Steve both showed how much you loved the other often.

Which is why you weren’t surprised by his extra affection this morning, being pulled into Steve’s figure. The warmth surrounded you and the small thumpthumpthump of his heart could be felt against your back. His hands were wrapped around your waist and his lips trailed from your shoulder up your neck to just behind your ear, leaving small kisses on his path.

“Are you awake?”

“I am now,” you murmured softly, turning around in his arms to face him. You let out a content sigh, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. “Hi”

Steve looked so soft in the mornings, although he looked more awake than usual his features were lacking the usual worry that he carried around these days. He looked relaxed. He looked safe. 

“Hi yourself,” he hummed, voice gentle due to the early hour.

The crackle of your walkie startled you both, interrupting your otherwise peaceful morning with your boyfriend, as the sound of your brother's voice flooded the room.

“Hey, can yo-  ake me to th- rcade?” 

“You need new batteries in your walkie.”

You glared at him, eyes sharp because you’d told him last night how Dustin had been on at you to change your batteries. “Shut up.”

“Are you gonna answer him?”

“No,” you replied sinking further into Steve, “he can find someone else to take him.”

His hand found your face, angling you so he could connect your lips. His kiss was lazy, soft and warm. He felt like home and it allowed you to melt into him just that little bit more as the kisses got a little bit faster, a little bit rougher, before you were interrupted once more. 

The static of Steve’s walkie rang out, and you both giggled, already knowing what was coming “Steve? Stev-    an you take me t-    he arcade?” 

He reached over and flipped the button off on both your walkies already knowing Dustin would tell him off for it later. He patted your thigh, “C’mon sleepy, I’ve got a surprise for you.” 

After waking up a bit more and insisting you needed to use the bathroom first, he lead you down the stairs, hands swallowed whole by his and eyes screwed shut. He stopped you in the doorway to the kitchen, “okay, open.”

Red balloons decorated the ceiling, pink confetti hearts in every field of view, some were swirling inside of said balloons, some were on the counter. Also on the counter was breakfast, which you didn’t even hear him get up for. In the centre sat two stacks of questionable heart-shaped pancakes and an assortment of fruit surrounded it.

“Steve.. wha-”

“Happy valentines day baby,” he smiled at you, his arms wound themselves around your waist, “I know we’ve never really done it before but for once we can be normal people and celebrate a day that gives me an excuse to give my girl a little extra love.” 

You know how lucky you are with Steve, to have someone who loves you with their whole heart and not be afraid to show it, but there are moments like this where you can't believe he’s real. That someone would willingly go out of their way to show you. 

“Stevie, I don't know what to say,” you whispered, voice sweet yet sad as you turn round, “this is too much. I didn’t get you anything, I didn’t even remember it was valentines day.”

He looks at you and smiles, hands framing your face, “hey, i don’t need anything, as long as i have you then that’s enough.” he sneaks in a kiss to sweeten the deal. 

“Gross.”

You and Steve both jumped, heads butting in the process causing you both to let out a pained ‘ow’, turning around to see Dustin standing in the doorway of Steve’s house, three musketeers bar half eaten in hand and mouth. “Looks like cupid exploded in here.”

“Dustin what the fuck! What the hell are you doing here?” you cried.

“And how did you get in?” Steve added.

“The key,” Dustin replied blankly, expression void of emotion as he looked at Steve before suddenly containing too much as he turned to you. “You weren’t answering me! And either you turned your walkie off or your batteries died, didn’t I tell you to change the batteries?!”

You loved Dustin with your whole heart but in true little brother fashion, his timing was terrible.

You turned to Steve who was muttering something about how the key was supposed to be used for emergencies only. You shrugged your shoulders, a small grin playing on your lips. He sighed and crossed his arms before he spoke.

“Why can’t you go to the arcade with your friends?”

“They were all busy,” he murmured, “something about flowers and chocolates and dates.”

“What about Will?” you questioned

“Will hates the arcade, he doesn’t like the lights.” 

You knew Steve had a soft spot for Dustin and would break a lot quicker than you. It was easier to say no when you grew up with him, Steve was still learning. 

“Fine,” Steve said coming up to stand beside you, “you get 30 minutes then we’re coming home.”

“30 minutes?! 2 hours?”

“An hour,” you chimed in before they’d start bickering, “go wait by the car Dustin.”

He cheered, clearly feeling successful in his endeavours. Steve set you with a soft look, one hand squeezing against your hip while the other worked its way under your shirt against your stomach.

“Quick,” he uttered in your ear, “you throw the walkie out I'll lock the door.”

“Deal.”

“I have a key!”

[neocatharsis]

221023 DOYOUNG

"The concert that I poured all my heart into is over.

There's a lot that I wish to say.

There's things that I want to say carefully too hh

Because Y/N who is receiving this message is the person I'm most grateful for so albeit carefully, I will say it all.

As I do this job, it seems like I would become a little tired when there's a misunderstanding or when I have responsibility for what I do. However, if there are more of such tough/tiring things and I keep feeling hurt, then there will be a time when this feeling would turn into self-blame towards myself. Why do I feel hurt about such things and have a hard time, why am I like this, I spend each and every day with these feelings but When we had the fansign this time round, I read a letter which I received and there was one sentence that comforted me.

If you ask what was written, it was "I know very well that it is impossible for Doyoungie to not feel hurt, so I can't say don't feel hurt but I hope that you can spend that (time) resolutely and have the strength take it in stride."

When I saw that line, the thought that "all this while, I thought of this job as one for me to show myself off, to receive love and evaluation, but there are actually people who guessed even my pain and worry about me" came to mind & it gave me comfort.

It was that thought and the whole process of preparing for this concert which accompanied me that became a source of comfort to me and saved me.

Perhaps it's because it was a concert with those meanings, I cried quite a bit without even realising it. hh

Really thank you so much from the bottom of my heart for being together with us yesterday and today Thank you for giving me strength and helping me live.

"With the thought that a day like this with us performing at such a huge concert venue may not come again, I'm going to remember today for a long, long time.

As much as I hate that my memory is limited, I want to remember today for a really, really long time

Thank you again."

Translated by nctdaoying