#you continue doing you!!! this is just my opinion.

[spiderbeam]

Here's a concept: I've been stuck on the idea of a dork reader who develops a small crush on Franco and works on her Spanish to impress talk to him but her pronunciation makes what she says borderline offensive/obscene and she knows it as she says it and starts apologizing and it's super awkward and embarrassing for her but I see Franco as being charmed that she put in the effort?

ohh i actually had to think about this one (and it got a little away from me) but. i can see this as either an mechanic!reader or engineer!reader from williams.

you’ve recently befriended franco. and in your opinion, he makes it too easy. i mean—it’s not many drivers that go out of their way to greet everyone in the team every weekend without fail once they arrive on the paddock. but franco does. and he’s been doing so well, and you can’t help the fondness you’re starting to harbor for him. it’s his smile—you’re sure of it. but it’s also his determination to make the best of the few races he has, it’s how utterly drained he looks after every race but smiles and jokes anyway—how hard he is on himself when he doesn’t perform as he wishes. and you’re always having to remind him that he’s been doing this for three races. you find it you enjoy his company a lot more than you should.

you’ve been working on a little side-project during your free time.

now, you know you’re not gonna be able to learn an entire language in the span of eight races. and spanish is hard. but you’re determined to try your best to learn a few phrases.

buena suerte. good luck. lo haras increíble. you’ll do great. vas con todo. give it your all. but even then, they feel impersonal. so, you move away from standard phrases and try to learn one for him.

you find your moment after free practice, sitting inside franco’s driver room as you sit besides him. he’s tired, but with an excited energy he can’t seem to shed. your thigh is nudging against his, his hand inching closer to yours, and you decide to do it now before you chicken out.

you meet his gaze with an encouraging smile on your lips. “estoy muy orgullosa de como cogiste el auto.”

and franco is drinking from his water bottle as he faces you, and you can see the moment he stops, and coughs—and continues coughing. you stare at him in bewilderment.

his voice is scratchy and hoarse when he says, “¿cómo? yo no—what?” he coughs again, and there’s a red blush on his cheeks that wasn’t there before.

“what?” you blink, embarrassment lodging itself inside your throat. “i just, i’m proud of you—of how quickly you got the hang of the car.” you can feel heat spreading across your cheeks as you start rambling. “i know it’s been a really tough transition, and you’ve been doing so well and—” you swallow sharply, clamping down your jaw to prevent yourself from digging yourself an even deeper hole.

franco blinks at you. “oh.” a laugh escapes him, a smile pulling at his lips as humiliation blooms in your chest. “oh, corazona,” franco coos, tilting his head with a look that makes your heart skip a beat. there’s a glint in his eyes you can’t seem to place. “since when have you been learning spanish?”

“not that long…” you look away from him, fidgeting with your fingers. “i just wanted to, y’know, congratulate you like you deserve.”

franco clicks his tongue, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “that’s really sweet,” he says softly, “and it means a lot. but i think you’ve been learning spain spanish.”

you blink, turning your head slightly. he rests his chin on your shoulder to meet your gaze. “um… i think so? i didn’t think it would make much of a difference.”

“it does.” franco chuckles again. “cause in spain, coger means to grab, but in argentina…” his tongue swipes along his canines, lips twitching upward into an amused smirk. “…coger means to fuck. and i think i’d remember if i’d had sex with a car.”

“oh my god.” mortification must be too evident in your face, because this time, franco laughs louder than before. it’s a laugh that rattles his chest, that makes his body vibrate against yours.

“don’t worry,” he says after a beat. he leans closer to you, his lips brushing against your ear. “it’s cute.”

a/n: ohhhh this one definitely got away from me. idk if i should even count this as a ramble cause it could be a drabble 😭 franco is my achilles heel i’m sorry

send me concepts ✉️

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

“Don’t touch me. We’re fighting.”

Quinn pleaseeee 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

I'm gonna put a warning on this because I like it so I don't feel like rewriting it. Warning: shitty relationship with father.

Drabble Masterlist

"Don't touch me. We're fighting."

Quinn didn't seem to care that you were pissed. But pissed didn't even describe the soreness in your jaw from clenching it so tight or the fact that your body temperature was elevated or that all you wanted to do was scream. Glancing over as he stood on the other side of the kitchen island, his face was as it always was calm, his thoughts were probably collected while your brain was firing off things to add to the fire if needed, he looked like he was in control of his body while yours was being controlled by the rage inside you. Looking at Quinn only pissed you off more so you just looked away.

After a minute, you decided it was best to walk away and cool off before you said something you'd regret. Quinn on the other hand, wasn't done fighting he wanted you to understand his point of view and he didn't wanna wait till morning. As you made your way down the hall you could hear Quinn's footsteps behind you.

"Wait Y/N, Let me explain." He went to gently touch your arm in hopes that you would stop walking away from him.

He got his wish, you turned around talking through your teeth you grunted. "Don't touch me. We're fighting."

Quinn has never pulled away from you so quickly before. Even with how angry you were at him it still hurt you how fast he pulled away. Quinn was looking at the floor, for the first time showing emotion since your fight started. "I was just trying to help."

All you could do is sigh. "By telling my father off?" you question defeat clear in your voice. "Quinn I've been over this with you, my family isn't like your family. You can't just voice your opinions to my dad, especially if it's you disagreeing with him or his choices."

Quinn looked up at you finally, he frowned his eyebrows in annoyance but you knew it wasn't at you. "Well I am mad at him. He shouldn't be allowed to talk down to you and blame you for not getting along with your stepmom when all she does is talk down to you. I couldn't sit there and let her talk down to you at dinner. Okay. And I guess I'm sorry for how it came up, but I am not sorry for standing up for you."

"Quinn I know you were trying to stand up for me. But I don't need you or anyone to stand up for me, especially against my family. Okay?" you ask waiting for him to acknowledge you.

"No. I'm sorry because how can you let them tell you that you aren't as far in your career as you should be as if they helped at all with the cost of college. Or the fact that all they did all dinner was telling you everything you were doing wrong with your life?" His tone was accusing and you found yourself taking a step back, your body was exhausted and all you wanted to was get out of this ichy dress and go to bed.

"I don't wanna have this conversation tonight." you begged.

"I just don't understand why do you even keep him around Y/N!"

"Okay since you seem to not be able to understand why I let them talk that way to you let me explain it to you so we never have to talk about this again got it?" you ask waiting for Quinn to nod his head before you continue. "Look my dad might be a piece of shit, but guess what he's my piece of shit father not anyone else's. Everyone always ask me for years 'Y/N if I were you, I'd cut him off why don't you.' For a long time I didn't have an answer for them but as I got older I do and it's this. Because he might be a piece of shit but without him I wouldn't be standing here physically because he is physically half of me. And I know you have lovely parents Quinn and brothers. But not everyone does and I am terrifed that if I do cut him out all the way vs seeing him three times a year like I do now. That one day I will get a call and he will be dead and I will have regret for not at least having him in some capactiy in my life. So because of that fear of regret because I know many people who have it now since their parents passed. I keep him around and if you can't understand that fine, not everyone does."

Taking a step closer to Quinn you add, "but whether you agree or not, you don't get to judge me for the choices I've made when it comes to the relationship between my father and I. Because that is exactly what it is." Pointing to yourself. "It's MY relationship not yours and you also don't get to make it more shaky then it already is by yelling at him in the middle of the steakhouse."

Quinn and you aren't sure how long you stood in your apartment hallway, it could of been seconds it could of been minutes. At some point Quinn looked at you and said "agree to disagree." All you did was nod and you both said true to your word you never talked about your father and your relationship ever again.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

To clarify,I don't believe in porn makes you evil and I don't believe in like fantasies are evil. I'm pulling this quote off Scarleteen "“If we aren’t both careful and creative we can get stuck in fantasies that don’t mature and politicize with us."" I'm also new to being about to vote, so I'm trying to be careful about what I consume and what stereotypes media perpetuate. Like I'm not moralizing about kink or anything, and my ask was how can I get aroused with media wo my kinks or wo media

hi anon, welcome back! I'm genuinely very glad to hear some follow up.

for anybody who doesn't stay vigorously up to date with all of my anons, this ask is a continuation of this one.

so I went and checked out the Scarleteen articles you mentioned in your first message, or at least I tried to. How to Approach Sexual Fantasies and Desire on Your Own Terms is here, and while I couldn't find anything with the exact title 50 Shades of Abuse, we do have 50 Shades of BS - How to Tell the Difference Between Kink and Abuse as well as 50 Shades Crappier: On Selling Abuse for Valentine's Day, both of which cover how the 50 Shades series isn't a great model of real, responsibly-practiced BDSM.

now, here's what I didn't see in any of these articles: an assertion that anybody needs to, as you've decided to do, avoid any work that depicts anything less than perfectly healthy sexual practices.

the closest we get to that is the quote by adrienne maree brown from How to Approach Sexual Fantasies, which you mention above. now, here's the thing: first of all, I actually disagree pretty substantially with brown's assertions that one's sexual fantasies need to "politicize." I know what my politics are; the fiction that I enjoy can't change that, because I don't have the moral backbone of a chocolate eclair. I actually just talked about that earlier today in another ask.

(also, and this may be an unpopular opinion, but adrienne maree brown is kind of a dork who doesn't really say much of anything in Pleasure Activism that Audre Lorde didn't already say better and more succinctly, and I personally lost interest in Pleasure Activism pretty much the moment she casually dropped that she practices reiki healing because that's a pseudoscientific alternative medicine that doesn't do shit or fuck. but I digress.)

listen, I'm not trying to peer pressure or bully you into watching anything you don't want to watch. your porn consumption is up to you. but what you're doing here is absolutely moralizing, I think maybe because of an underlying assumption that media that involves sex is just, like, innately different than any other type of media, which is in itself an idea that stems from sex negativity!

I don't know, let's just try to play out a little thought exercise here. like, would you consider it reasonable if somebody told you that they've decided not to read or watch anything that depicts problematic behavior because they don't want to normalize it. like, first of all, they're never watching anything but Bluey again. except actually not even Bluey because I just remembered about Bluey in the genocide, which actually makes for a great illustration of how nonsensical and impossible it is to try to only engage with media that is 100% ideologically pure.

and again: that's fine! that's literally fine! it is 100% okay to watch or read or play things with morals that don't totally 100% align with yours. it's okay to enjoy them, even. it's a lot healthier than trying to avoid upsetting or incongruous things entirely, because that gives you the chance to actually think about it rather than trying to shut it out entirely! that article actually provides an entire list of questions you can run through with yourself to critically analyze the things you watch if you feel so inclined! that's a much better skill to practice than avoidance!

I get that when you're new to sex, as you said in the previous ask, this might seem daunting, but your brain isn't just a sponge that will uncritically soak up and adopt anything you expose it to. you very clearly have the ability to research, differentiate between fiction and real life, and form your own opinions! and it is absolutely fine if you want to just watch porn with your kinks!

like, listen, I see what the question is, and the easiest answer is just. do whatever gets you off.

[kiame-sama]

Do you think we can get a pt 3 to the yandere Lilia fic? I need to see how Lilia shows Reader that he's not a child at all 🥵🔥😈. Lilia, in my opinion, is one of those yanderes with breeding and babytrapping kink. He probably wants Silver to have lots of little siblings 🥰💖.

Many hugs from Argentina 🥰🤗💖

What Are You, Twelve? (Yandere!Lilia x Reader) Pt 3

Warnings: yandere, yandere behavior, yandere temper, Lilia's yandere side gets set loose for a little bit, Lilia snaps a little, vague self-depreciating behavior/talk, real talk from reader to Lilia, Crowley is uncomfortable, Silver is uncomfortable, gender neutral reader, implied adult scenarios,

~~~~~~~~

You sat in the Headmage's office with Lilia as he had dragged you to the less than pleased Headmage and demanded the man vouch for him. Lilia had gotten more than a little persistent in his attempts to make you acknowledge his age as anything above twelve. From making other students and even teachers talk about his age, to being a bit more adult in his behavior, Lilia has tried tirelessly to convince you.

Little did Lilia know, you were actually starting to believe him. Ever since you saw the photo album with Silver, you had actually begun to believe Lilia was older than he looked, but you were hoping that continued feigned ignorance would eventually make him give up.

It was one thing when you thought Lilia was a child saying all of these salacious things to you, it is another entirely to know Lilia was centuries old and still doing this. Even as the Headmage vouched for Lilia's age over a cup of tea with the two of you, you still wanted to deny accepting his age. In the time between Lilia's attempts to win you over, you had done some digging into Lilia's past and found yourself feeling rather bland when compared to the Fae.

Why would someone like him be so determined to chase someone like you?

"I don't know... This all seems like a big joke to me still."

"How? After all of this, how? Tell me, (Y/n). You are not a dumb child of man by any means, I know that much. How can you not believe even after all of this?"

His tone was almost pained and you actually felt compelled to be honest with him despite how upset it may make him. He had been trying very hard to get you to see him as more than a child and in some regards you felt badly for making him so distraught and stressed. Granted, he was being quite obsessive and inappropriate with his conversations towards you, but this charade has gone on long enough.

"Truthfully, Lilia," you crossed your legs, trying to hold the Fae's gaze, "the simple power of willful ignorance. I figured you were being serious after Silver embarrassed himself with that photo album. He is a little lost most days, but he is no liar, even at your behest."

"So you were just teasing me this whole time. I can forgive playful or coy behavior, but this?"

"Not the whole time, no. I genuinely thought you were a child up until Silver showed me the photo album. After Silver talked to me, I decided to do some research... into you. Lilia, you do see it, don't you? I'm... not enough for you, and I likely never will be. I'm human and magicless. You're... You. Malleus showed me that you're even in our history books, for goodness sakes. I can't be any more Fae than you can be Human, so-"

The sudden sound of porcelain crunching cut you off in a sharp and jarring way, hearing the pieces crinkling to the floor in the silence that followed. You were stunned as you stared at Lilia's hand, the blood slowly dripping down from where he crushed the cup of tea he had been drinking. Even the Headmage didn't know how to react to the sudden and uncharacteristic behavior.

Lilia was silent for a long moment before he spoke and his voice chilled your very blood. Typically the cherub-faced Fae was excitable and had a certain bounce to his tone and step, almost playing up the child-like features of his. All of that life and tone was gone from his voice and it left a near monotone voice that held all too much venom for how little rage it carried.

"Say another word, and I will come completely unhinged, (Y/n). You have done plenty of talking thus far, now it is time for you to listen." He stood from his chair and began walking towards you, that same look on his face that spoke of horrors beyond his years, "I pride myself in being slow to anger and being quite the trickster in my own right. Startling people is a hobby of mine as is playing the cute school-boy persona as much as I can, but I am a father and have seen many human lifetimes."

Lilia stood in front of you now, making you suddenly feel so very small before the odd being. It really hadn't occurred to you before that moment what others meant when they said Lilia could be intimidating or even downright frightening when he wanted to be. It somewhat made you feel like you were being scolded by a figure of authority, bringing you to lower your head and refuse to meet the gaze of the suddenly intense Fae. He didn't like this and used one hand to tilt your head back so you could stare at him with wide eyes.

"You are one of the brightest and most fascinating humans I have had the pleasure of encountering in over three centuries. And here I have to listen to you talk about yourself as if you are just another face of the ever changing tapesty that makes up this school. Do you not see the things you do? The way you change the very atmosphere of a room with your presence. The way you befriend even the most enigmatic and temperamental of the student body..."

As he trailed off he seemed to become distracted with the way he held your chin, the slightest bit of warmth returning to his expression before it was gone again in an instant. When you thought he was a child it had been easy to talk to and face Lilia, despite his constant attempts at flirting he had still been a positive influence in your day. Now you wondered how you could really have been so naïve to think the wizened being before you was anything less than a centuries old enigma. He had been playing the sweet and bubbly school-boy adeptly and it fooled you all too well.

"So very frustrating to hear you've been playing coy, but- fortunately for you- it hasn't been too long of a game and I can't fault anyone for being less than forthcoming about themselves. I don't find myself chasing the children of men often, (Y/n). It is uncommon, but do you truly think that we Fae haven't figured out a way to lengthen the human life-span for those we have decided to keep? It is an unnatural life as humans aren't typically meant to live that long, but we still can do it."

You were unable to say much of anything to the Fae, feeling vaguely disturbed by the warm and slightly sticky feeling of his blood on his hand. He was not as bothered by it as you were and almost seemed to have forgotten that he has injured himself. The main thing other than intimidation that kept you quiet was the fact the usually affable Headmage had yet to say anything either. Crowley was usually the one to count on for a break in tenson but he didn't seem keen to interrupt the Diasomnia Vice-housewarden.

You couldn't blame him.

"You have no idea the things you do, but I can and will teach you if I must. Regardless, I've been quite patient and now I find myself wanting more than a bit of compensation for the emotional turmoil you've put me through. So, agree to go on a date with me and I will forgive the sleight against me and continue fostering my boundless patience with you."

A moment of silence passed and it was clear Lilia was waiting for you to say something. He seemed more than content staring at you expectantly for you to speak. The only indication of his waning patience was the way his hand moved from your chin to your neck.

"... Your hand is still bleeding."

This seemed to throw the Fae off for a moment as a kind of awareness returned to him, taking note of his injured hand on your throat. A moment of silence passed again as Lilia felt your racing heartbeat under his fingers, your pulse betraying your fear. He withdrew from you rather quickly upon feeling the physical evidence of your fear.

"To think I'm this worked up over something ultimately so trivial. You are such a unique child of man, (Y/n). You can get even my old heart stirring for the first time in a long time."

It was around this point Crowley finally spoke up, his voice pitched up ever so slightly which betrayed how uncomfortable he was in the situation. The other Fae had not expected Lilia of all students to become so enraged at your refusal. It only unsettled him further to witness the clear threat Lilia had made by putting his hand on your throat when you didn't respond to him the way he wanted.

"Well, now that is dealt with, is there any reason to continue this conversation in my office?"

"... No. No, there isn't. Is there? Not unless (Y/n) feels like trying to continue this charade."

You shook your head, trying to keep the surprisingly intimidating Fae calm. Now he knew you had been refusing him based on your own feelings of inadequacy, he could work on making you fall for him. The question was if he wanted to do this with the use of a spell, a love potion, or simply winning you over with his own charms.

~•§•~

"... Father, why is (Y/n) sleeping in your bed?"

"Because, Silver, your papa has finally managed to get what he wants from life."

"Please tell me you aren't talking about making them sit on your face?"

"Well, if you must know-"

"Nope. I don't need or want to know, actually. Forgive me for asking."

"... How do you feel about gaining a few siblings, Silver?"

[ilwonuu]

𝖺𝗆， 𝗉𝗆？

❧𝗅𝖾𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗑❧

• 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀－ 𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗅！𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗑 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆！𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋， 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝖽𝗈𝗆！𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗑 𝗑 𝗌𝗎𝖻！𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

• 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾－ 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍， 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿

• 𝗌𝗒𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗌𝗂𝗌－ 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍， 𝗇𝗈 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗅𝗒．

• 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌－ 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗒 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗑 （𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗌）， 𝗅𝗈𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀， 𝗎𝗇𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽－ 𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝗌𝖾𝗑， 𝗅𝗈𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗂 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗍𝗍𝗍， 𝖽𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄， 𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 （𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒， 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾）， 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍， 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗇𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 （𝗌𝖺𝗆𝖾）， 𝗋𝗂𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀， 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗂𝖾 （𝗒𝗎𝗆， 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾 ♡︎♡︎

you and felix have only started dating recently and you are already all over each other. i mean- as it should be right? you knew he liked you and you were more than happy. he couldn’t bare normal things with you anymore. he was kissing you in 10 minutes. of course when you let him (when do you not) felix was particularly horny tonight. the pjs you decided to wear were driving him crazy.

the loose cut tank top you were wearing with your shirt black shorts. your slippers of course. felix couldn’t wait to climb in bed with you. the two of you eating some ice cream in the kitchen. you two always shared everything you wanted but today was different. felix was asking you for a bite every time. you went in for one. not without an added kiss in between.

“you might as well eat it out my mouth lix.” you giggled at his desperateness and he just looked at you with a smirk. “would you let me?” he smiled at you with an innocent smile as he took the ice cream bowl from your hands. he set in on the counter as he turned back to look at you. “what’s gotten into you tonight? where’s sweet lix?” you said playfully. you knew he was always sweet but never this naughty. you liked ever bit of it.

he didn’t bother responding as he leaned you against the counter to kiss you. you melted into his kiss instantly. how could you deny him? he looked all cute bare faced with his sweatpants and t-shirt on. you wanted to rip it off him. he grabbed your waist gently as he worked you around to the island counter behind the two of you. “you know-“ he said as he planted kisses along your neck.

“i was thinking about this all morning and all night- this outfit- god you make me crazy. i’ve never had to fight my self control so much.” he pulled you to kiss him again. this time you couldn’t hold back the noise you made. you moaned into your boyfriend’s mouth desperately. you needed him just as much as he needed you. he guided you to the bedroom you two shared. he didn’t want to wait anymore. he laid you back against he pillows as he eyes your chest.

your boobs look so good right now (in his opinion). he asked you permission with his eyes. making you moan out a yes when he got closer to your shirt. “everything about you- makes me want to get on my knees.” he whispered softly into your skin. he gently pushed your shirt up revealing your chest. he played with your tits a little as he continued to talk to you softly.

“i think about you in the morning- in the afternoon- at night. you are never not on my mind. all i want is to please you- the way you deserve to be pleased.” he pulled you into a sloppy kiss. he was devouring your lips. you could feel his need for you. he played with you tits a little more before moving to your shorts slowly. “want me to take them off love? whatever you want baby.” he let you lead him to where ever you wanted him most. he just wanted you to tel him exactly what you needed.

“can i- ride you lix?” his eyes have never sparkled more before. it’s like you read his mind exactly. “i’d love you to baby.” the next couple of minutes were to two of you trying to get naked as fast as you can. you climbed in his lap sloppily as you two finally stopped caring about the amount of clothes. you took off just enough for you to ride him. his hands were on your waist as he held you gently. he made sure to give kisses to your chest before he positioned you over his length. he kissed your neck and chest all over.

“how are you mine? perfect girl. everything about you. god i want you so bad baby.” he whispered into your ear as he finally helped you to the perfect position. “love you lix. all yours-“ you said with a smile as you lowered yourself on his length. both of you were shocked with how good it felt. usually you guys would use protection but you were to horny to care about that now.

“god- you’re so wet love. did i get you like this?” he kisses your ear as he helped you move slowly against him. he knew you were still adjusting to him but he knew exactly how to relax you. “a-always- lix fuck.” you were so far gone. the way he sounded when he let a whine of pleasure out was making your brain hazy.

“just like that- i love you so much. always making me feel so perfect.” he whispers soft praises into your skin as you start to move more against him. he pulled you into a passionate kiss. not failing to stop guiding you as you rode him. his lips were soft as always. you could never get tired of kissing them. felix let his hands roam you body.

both of your moans filling the air as he continued to give you everything you needed. he knew how to move his hips the best way up against you. both of you couldn’t stop even if you tried to. you had fell completely into pure pleasure as you neared your high. felix’s voice got deeper and dirtier with the things he said to you. you knew he was getting close too.

“l-lix- right there! i’m so close.” you threw your head back a he hit against the perfect spot. “right here? angel you look so pretty when you come for me.” he whispered into your ear softly as he felt you clench around him. “coming lix-“ he cut you off with a deep kiss against your lips. you felt him come shortly after you. you guys are ones to use protection but you know that with being on birth control that you can worry a little less. both you and felix are cautious- not today.

the feeling of his cum inside you had you ready for another round. your hips came to a final stop as your tiredly climbed off him. you smiled at your boyfriend as you kissed his head. he looked exhausted after the sex you two just had. “did i kill you lix?” you giggled as you moved his hair out of his face. “in the best way possible.” he gave you the sweetest kiss after that. you knew that the rest of the night was full of more kisses just like that.

꧁𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾꧂： 𝗁𝗂 𝗆𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗅𝗌！！ 𝗂𝗆 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗆𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗌！！ 𝗂 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁． 𝗂 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗆 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀！！ 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗁𝖾𝗁 （𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝗇𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝗈𝖿 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗄！𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗑） 𝗂 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖽𝖽 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅 <𝟥 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗎 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽

[mustainegf]

idea: dave has a crush on reader, but reader is kinda skittish and lowkey scared of him bc of his reputation as the big scary frontman of megadeth, so he tries to show reader that he's not a bad guy, lol (i hope i explained this properly)

Awww dude Dave is SUCH A SWEETHEART

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 ¹⁹⁹³

There was creativity in the air the minute I walked in, humming along with the electrical wires. It was like going into some kind of beast's lair. And right at its heart, Dave Mustaine.

I knew Dave for a while, at least I liked to think so. We met through mutual friends, had shared some laughs. But the truth was, I didn't know him, not the way the world did. To me, he was just Dave, a man with a reputation that preceded him, a reputation that quite frankly terrified me just a little bit.

The stories told of him painted a picture in my mind of, ferocity, anger, impatience. And while I was drawn to him, mesmerized even, I couldn't help that I was getting too close to something dangerous.

So when he asked me to join him in the studio, I actually hesitated. But his voice was gentle, and before I knew it, the words were tumbling out in agreement off my mouth.

Now, here I was, standing in the middle of a darkened studio, feeling out of place, and unsure of what to do with myself. Dave stood across the room, adjusting his guitar to his back while he looked different here, he was meant to be here.

Scattered along the room was a few producers, as well as the other guys, David, Nick, and Marty. I fidgeted from one foot to another, not sure if I should say something or just fade into silence.

Then, Dave turned around, flashing me a small, hesitant smile. "Hey, I was starting to think you wouldn’t come," he said in a softer than normal almost…gentle tone of voice.

"Yeah… well I’m here," I said, my voice coming out softer than I really meant. When silence fell, I had to fight the urge not to bolt out of the room. But before I could do anything brash, Dave strode over the room, thrusting a pair of headphones at me.

"Here," he said, "I want you to hear something."

I took the headphones from him, careful not to touch his fingers. There was an uncomfortable meld of stress as well as warmth between us.

I carefully put on the headphones, and he hit a button on the console. Instantly, my ears filled with guitar. It was a new track they were working on, and it was…beautiful. Heavy, yes, but there was a melody in it that never failed to accompany a Megadeth song.

I glanced over at him, and he was staring straight at me, like my reaction meant more to him than anything else in the world. "It's really good, Dave," I smiled, and I meant it. His face relaxed, and he almost looked relieved.

“You think so?" he asked, and for the first time sounded uncertain of himself, which came as a rather big surprise coming from someone like him. I nodded, and he smiled again, his freckled cheeks crinkling slightly.

“It’s called A Tout Le Monde.”

Through the day Dave continued to surprise me. He was reserved around me, almost… shy. It was like he knew I was nervous and had been trying to put me at my ease in whatever way he could.

He asked me what I thought of the music, he was genuinely interested in my opinions, and whenever he spoke, it was a quiet voice, never once raising it, even when the band started arguing over some riff or another.

Whenever he had to leave the room, he'd give me this reassuring look, like, "I'll be right back, okay?”

At one point, on a break, he turned to me and asked me if I wanted tea. Not coffee, tea. I don't know why, but that made me smile. He was just sweet in this unexpected way, a very shocking change to his reputation.

He got it for me himself and brought it to me carefully so as not to spill a single drop. I could feel his eyes on me as I took a sip.

“Good?" he asked nervously.

"It's perfect," I said, giving him a sweet nod.

The longer I sat, the less concerned I was about the terrifying ‘idea’ of Mustaine. He glances at me throughout the day, and the guys could very much tell.

As night came quickly, the band began to pack up. Dave stayed around me, and I felt like he wanted to say something. There was something in the air, that made me want to punch myself to see if maybe it would stop.

"Are you doing anything next week?" he suddenly asked, a little too casual, trying to play it cool but failing.

"I don't think so, why?" I returned, my heart starting to quiver.

"Well, uh," he started off, scratching the back of his neck in a boyish way, "the American Music Awards are next week, and I was wondering if you'd want to go with me… As my date."

My heart basically melted, he was so cute. His cheeks were pink and his hazel eyes flicked between my face and the carpet.

He is a man who can snarl to the world and earn a crowds respect, and here he is, nervous and blushing while waiting for my answer.

I paused, not because I didn't want to go, but this was a side of Dave I hadn't expected. Dave Mustaine was asking me out, and my heart softened at his gentleness.

"I'd love to," I said finally, the biggest smile spreading over my lips.

"Great," he said, beaming wide. "I promise, it’ll be a good time."

“I know it will be.”

[shriveled-grape]

Thinking about Ratio and Owl courtship behaviors.

Just because. They’re on the mind.

Bringing food

While it’s my personal opinion that Aventurine eats breakfast and dinner (at the very least because of his cakes), I think he overlooks lunch quite frequently. He just doesn’t feel hungry until his stomach is screeching at him to eat. It’s just one of those things—it’s a ‘okay, we actually have a stable food source’ thing.

Still—not a very good habit to overlook. It’s not like he’s doing anything to help it either, no alarm or anything. Just looking at the clock and going ‘well shit lunch was a while ago… whoopsies might as well wait till I get home’. (I don’t think Aventurine wants to take his work home, if he’s off the clock he’s off and Qiploth help the poor IPC worker that has to contact him outside work hours if he’s needed—so, he’d rather continue his workflow instead of risking going over his hours.)

While I’m not entirely sure how this habit will get picked up on (perhaps there’s frequent meetings with the IPC before lunch hours and rather than make his way to the lunch area, Aventurine is making his way back to his office.

“Gambler, the lunch room is this way.”

Immediate heel turn. “Inviting me to eat with you, Ratio?” Suddenly he’s extremely aware he’s hungry.

Eats like a man starved.)

but Ratio picks it up one way or another. He goes about it indirectly (for the most part), either striking up a dialogue that requires Aventurine to accompany him to the lunch room or finding a reason to be in Aventurine’s office with (coincidentally) more food than Ratio is able to consume and an extra set of utensils because ‘reheating the food won’t taste the same, and they say a good meal is better with company’ (sounds like bs — the latter part not the former, but Aventurine doesn’t comment on it because hey—more time with his favorite doctor).

Eventually this becomes habit. Ratio bringing Aventurine to a food source (the lunch room, or perhaps a nearby cafe/restaurant/etc) or bringing him food. It’s—ha—a gamble. One that Aventurine looks forward to everyday around lunch time.

Cheek-to-Cheek nuzzling

Of course, this one would be when there’s an actual relationship. This one feels more private/intimate so really it’s saved for when they’re both alone together.

The first time it happens is when they’re both in bed together, not exactly cuddling but still being in each other’s arms. Aventurine’s on his phone, Ratio’s reading an (exceedingly long) book. (I wonder if Ratio would read like Reid from criminal minds… anyways—.)

It’s a spontaneous thing. Ratio kisses Aventurine’s cheek SOFTLY (extremely important.) then turns his head and rubs his cheek against Aventurine’s before turning back to his book.

Aventurine’s stunned for a bit, processing if that. Really just happened. He’s not complaining of course! He’s just. Confused. A bit. His cheeks are warmed up now, but he just laughs a bit.

“Never did I think you’d be so touchy, Ratio.”

“Heh.”

That’s it. That’s the entire exchange that just makes Aventurine roll his eyes with a smile before going back to his phone.

It becomes a mutual thing after that. Before one of them heads off to work, when one gets home, when they wake, before they sleep, or just spontaneous. Just like the first time.

Preening

Humans don’t have pin feathers (I would. I would hope.) so I’m going about this a couple of ways.

Ratio trying to smooth down stray hairs on Aventurine’s head. Say it’s the middle of a work day that Ratio happens to be there and he notices some hair frizz on Aventurine’s head that he smooths down. (Doesn’t stop his conversation just reaches over and smooths it down like he’s not doing anything out of the ordinary. Aventurine: ?????? Lol okay???). Or before Aventurine leaves for work Ratio fixes a couple strands before sending him on his way.

A thought that came to me is Aventurine getting a cowlick whenever it rains on the back of his head. Ratio continually trying to smooth. It. Down. But it just doesn’t want to. It frustrates him and Aventurine can’t leave the house until it’s tamed. (This is how you know he loves this man because it’s setting the time he has to finish his workload back either 30 mins to an hour). Prior to their relationship, Aventurine would’ve just worn his hat, but now that’s only if the doctor has given up… which is extremely rare.

The last way is through Ratio absentmindedly twisting (rubbing???) strands of Aventurine’s hair between his index and thumb (much like a human would preen a bird’s feathers). This is easier if they’re laying somewhere together (if Aventurine is the one holding him he simply reaches behind him). This method is a comfort thing, me thinks.

Aventurine thinks it’s cute.

Hooting duets

For this one, I think is the silliest. Because it’s just them going back and forth with each other.

They’re bantering!! And it’s subconsciously Ratio’s love language (except it’s only. With Aventurine).

Aventurine keeps him on his toes and gives wit that parallels Ratio’s that sometimes leaves him speechless before he composes himself (this is unprecedented. If there are people in attendance they are shocked. Well, for the first couple times).

They don’t shut up if they’re with each other, this only heightens when they are actually together… which honestly isn’t a big change.

This is the courtship that lets everyone know Ratio is interested in Aventurine (in some way, they aren’t sure what for a good while) … except Aventurine.

Everyone sees them pining. And it. HURTS.

But yeah, that’s what I got…

This was supposed to be a short thing……

[arceespinkgun]

I'm sorry for this since I do hate how overrated he is in general, but I really wanted to make a post getting out my love for Prowl in the TF UK comics. He is just so clearly the best, most definitive version of the character in my opinion! Somehow, so many of the funniest moments from this continuity are Prowl-related and many of his quotes live rent-free in my head?! From jumping on a missile, to yelling at Jetfire in one of the Christmas specials ("You almost break the world record... FOR STANDING STILL!"), to thinking Jazz saying something will be "a piece of cake" is literal, that one time he yelled "SHUT UP!!!" at the Autobots and Decepticons and then added a tiny "please" afterward...!

And in my opinion the funniest panel in all of the comics is a Prowl panel where he thinks Grimlock is dumb as a brick and imagines a literal brick!

IIRC Prowl's introduction to the comics showed him trying to suggest other options than suicide when the Ark gets attacked only for Optimus to immediately ignore him, which really sets the tone for that dynamic. I was pretty surprised to see that Optimus (and later Grimlock, who is generally hilariously awful) are incredibly unstable leaders and that in almost every case I took Prowl's side in his arguments with them...?

When I say "unstable," I really mean it

He isn't perfect, but he seemed to just want to the War to end and then stay ended from what I could tell. I kind of get the sense that a fandom in-joke about Prowl being a prick may have gotten overstated and led to Prowl actually being extremely obnoxious and immoral in things like IDW, since to me here he really came across more like a character who's justified in being irritated by how other people, normally his superiors, are acting because they're endangering others. Near the end of the comics, I really didn't like that Prowl was very much treated as being wrong for trying to get it through Grimlock's thick metal skull that Decepticons are people too? This isn't going to make sense for people who haven't read these issues, but to me it felt like Grimlock was shirking his duties as a leader and then setting Prowl up to fail to teach him a lesson the hard way, and it felt pretty cruel are overly edgy to me and not in-line with how Autobot and Decepticon dynamics were portrayed earlier. I know I'm biased, but I personally thought it was brave that Prowl stood up to Grimlock, the way Blaster had much earlier on.

Going into these comics, I was really expecting to see a precursor to IDW Prowl or something, and I feel like I was misled! This version of the character feels almost like what IDW Prowl thought he was like. In the final annual story of this continuity, when Optimus actually apologizes for brushing Prowl off and explains that he's just been struggling emotionally (there's even a moment where it says, "Prowl gaped. Not only was he getting an apology, he was also getting an explanation," which really shows what kind of character Prowl is) and Optimus then says it's an honor to work with Prowl, I think I said "awww" out loud!!! And I thought it was hilarious that Prowl was so moved that he imagined a lump in his throat LMAO

"There's a ship fuelled and ready to life off, the assault team and medical crew are aboard. Prowl, I would be… honoured if you would join us," said Prime." And with that he extended a hand for Prowl to shake. There was a frozen moment or two before Prowl grabbed the proffered hand, pumping it. So charged with emotion was the moment, Prowl actually imagined a lump in a throat that he didn't possess!

I also thought Prowl was just as badass as he was hilarious: I loved it when Galvatron targeted Autobots including Prowl for having "mental flaws" by trying to use those to brainwash them into serving him and then Prowl's response was to just attack him and be like, "You forgot that we Autobots REPRESS our feelings!!!" Prowl was one of only three Autobots who ended up alive in the AU story "Rhythms of Darkness!" And he also once went back in time and had to relive his own destruction in order to stop Megatron, who he knocked out with a punch to the face:

(It's Megatron possessing Snap Trap's body). This "Prime?!" "Nope—Prowl!" *punches him in the face* is such an iconic moment to me

Prowl also has a great backstory and was even a veteran before Optimus Prime was ever leader! You can read about that in my Jazz analysis post since they share a backstory. Prowl led a team who went around freeing Decepticon-controlled territories early in the War, and was one of the most dreaded Autobots! Now this is what I like—Prowl being a "terrorist" only in the eyes of the oppressors, not a civil terrorist in peacetime like in IDW! I think it's pretty likely that Prowl's type-A personality and intense sense of responsibility was probably informed a lot by his trauma on one of those early missions going so horribly wrong, since he seems to have behaved differently back then:

Prowl leaned over to Jazz. "Did we do okay?" he asked uncertainly, hoping Jazz wouldn't interpret this as weakness. As team leader, Prowl worried constantly that he would foul up, make some decision that would end up costing lives: theirs as well as others.

I think I'm not the only one who thinks sometimes having a favorite transformer who's really popular but it's only a couple of iterations that you're not interested in (nothing against TFA Prowl at all, I like him, I'm just very neutral on TFA the show), while almost nobody seems to know about the iteration you like and what you like about the character, can sometimes feel like a bit of a curse lol That's why I felt like sharing all of this!

[justwinginglife]

This Time, It's Different

Dedicated to the only person who will read this, my bestie @minasfwoopyponytail, yall I know I be doin Soshiro all the time, but I got on the Ranpo track cuz we were talking about Ranpo being in our top favs for BSD so I gotta show him some love today (I am so sorry that I bought Chuuya, Dazai, and Akutugawa merch and forgot about you Ranpo my love, this is my apology fic for you).

You were never good at lying. 

It was inconvenient in almost all aspects of your life, but you never thought your ineptitude would be the reason someone finally fell in love with you.

After many failed attempts at bending the truth, after attempting to tell your aunt you liked the socks she got for your birthday and instead unknowingly wrinkling your nose at them and breaking her heart, after attempting to tell your boss that you were busy and couldn’t come to work on a Saturday and when she asked follow up questions about your supposed plans you found yourself flushed and floundering, after attempting to tell your ex that you enjoyed meeting his family but then immediately declining any further interaction with them, after multiple awkward interactions and even more disastrous encounters, you decided to give up on lying. It wasn’t for you.

So you resigned yourself to the fact that you would have to tell nothing but the whole, honest truth for the rest of your life. Your lackluster lies may cause catastrophe otherwise. 

So when you joined up with the Armed Detective Agency, when you rejected Dazai’s advances by saying, “No offense Dazai, but I’m sure you say that to all the ladies, and while I’m flattered, I’m not into womanizers,” when you offered methods of stress relief to Kunikida because he “always looked like the world was ending,” when you asked when Furukawa would be retiring because you were concerned about him “overworking himself in his old age,” when half the detective agency was against you from your first day, Ranpo Edogawa found himself half in love with you already. 

He’d never met a person who didn’t -or just couldn’t- lie, even among his fellow coworkers, and he was at least intrigued by you if nothing else. He found himself eager to see just how far you were willing to go to continue telling the truth. 

Going forward, you often found him tagging along on missions with you, peeking over your shoulder while you worked, listening to everything intently, even despite your other coworkers telling you that Ranpo almost never went out of his way to be this personally invested in anything, just because he wanted to hear you talk, to see if you really told everyone everything you thought all the time. And to ask you questions. Lots of questions. 

Most of them were controversial because he wanted to see if you’d stick to your opinions even if you were in the minority, some of them were philosophical because he wanted to know the way your mind worked, and a few of them were just downright absurd because he was Ranpo. 

“Okay. So. You want to know if I would divert the trolley to save the lives of five by killing one?”

“Yes, and when you’re done with that, do you think that dress makes that girl’s butt look fat?”

“Mr. Edogawa, sir, I really don’t see how this is relevant to the case.”

“Oh it’s relevant, alright. Answer the question, I’m your superior and I wanna know.”

“Um. Alright. Well clearly it makes more logical sense to sacrifice the life of the one for the good of the many, just mathematically speaking, and yes, that dress is very unappealing on her, I don’t know why she went with white.” 

“Agreed, the white is hideous, you pass my tests. For now.”

And so this bizarre relationship of yours continued.

Ranpo would wait for you to finish up cases, would wait for you to finish in the bathroom, would wait for you to finish up dinner, just so he could pick your brain, just so he could amuse himself with your answers. But the more time he spent with you, the more his reason changed for spending the time. He was always attentive, had always had a keen eye, but when you were around, it seemed every last bit of his attention had devoted itself to you. He knew how long it took for you to finish going to the bathroom, so -much to your embarrassment- he always knew what you were doing in the bathroom depending on the length of time. He knew how long it took for you to eat and which foods took you longer amounts of time to eat them. He knew when it was your time of the month, he knew what you craved during said time, he knew the way you’d react when he brought you said craving. He knew almost everything about you and it still wasn’t enough. 

One day, he diverted from his usual barrage of insane questions and he started asking about you: what was your favorite food, where were you born, did you have any pets growing up, what did you like to do outside of work? By now, you had gathered from all his previous questions that he was just having fun interrogating you, but you enjoyed talking with him, so you answered all his questions regardless, personal or otherwise. You were unsure how telling him your favorite color was supposed to entertain him the way his usual ridiculous questions did, but you told him it was green anyway. He brought you a bundle of kiwis the next day because he couldn’t figure out what else was green to give you. You were unaware of the fruit’s connection to his question about your favorite color but to him, he’d pretty much just asked you out. 

When you didn’t reciprocate his feelings, because you were unaware he had feelings for you, and unaware he had just presented them to you through said kiwis, he pouted for the remainder of the day.

You couldn’t figure out why the man who had spent every waking second of your career with the ADA by your side had suddenly started avoiding you. You couldn’t figure it out, and it was killing you. Little did he know, you had also started memorizing details about him, and the way his laugh sounded, the way his lips curved into a smile, the way his fingers pushed up his glasses, the way he did anything and everything, the way he said anything and everything had you craving your next interaction before the previous one had even ended. And you couldn’t take the silence he had now forced you into. So you went on a hunt for him.

You found him sulking on the rooftop. 

You plopped down beside him without saying a word and when you could tell he might be preparing to run again, preparing to plunge your relationship into further silence, you handed him a Ramune. He froze. And then he snatched the drink out of your hand like it was just another Tuesday for the two of you.

“You remembered my favorite flavor, huh? Not too shabby for a second rate detective.” He chugged down the drink.

You laughed and nudged his shoulder with yours. “If I’m such a second rate detective, how did I know you’d be on the roof?”

He shrugged. “Got lucky, I guess.”

You bit your lip and for the first time in years, considered lying. But you couldn’t do it. “Actually, I didn’t just ‘get lucky.’ I knew you’d be on the roof. You always come to the roof when you’re upset. I notice more than you think. So tell me- why are you upset?”

He sighed. “You’re not into me. No one’s ever into me.”

You blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

He sighed again, this time more exasperated. “I gave you a gift, but you didn’t accept my feelings.”

You blinked again. “The… kiwis?? Ranpo. You always give me gifts. You gave me strawberries during my last period even though Yosano told you to get me chocolate because you know I like fruits better than chocolate. You gave me limited edition tickets to a play that was already sold out because you’d preordered it when you heard me vaguely mention that I liked it. You are always giving me things, and they’re perfect, and I love it, and I appreciate it, but how was I supposed to know this time was something different?”

He tapped a finger on his chin. “Yeah okay fine. I see that now.”

You inched up closer to him. “So… this time is different though?”

He suddenly blushed. “Yeah… this time it’s different. This time I wanted… well I wanted…”

“Me?”

He’s suddenly quiet and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him like this. You’ve rendered him speechless and it’s impossible not to find it adorable.

You kiss him.

If he was speechless before, now he’s speechless and breathless.

“I just… you just…so we’re?”

You nod, smiling at him. “Yeah. We are.”

“We’re… together?” He squeaks out.

“I’d like us to be.”

He nods vigorously. “I-I’d like us to be too!” He blurts out.

You kiss him again and this time he savors the feeling of your lips melding with his. This time he kisses you back with fervor, with passion he never knew he could feel. This time, he’s all yours.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's Note: I am too lazy to write a longer fic that delves into their relationship after this, but I did want to write a lil drabble about it, so I will be posting it here.

[daughter-of-sapph0]

what do you gain from sending cruel anons? satisfaction? approval from others? does someone pay you to do it? I never understood why you freaks do that bullshit. it's useless anyway.

I'm not publishing your anonymous ask. no one deserves to look at that slop.

it doesn't even hurt me. nothing you say to me can be worse than the pain I've already felt. your words mean nothing to me. you can tell me to kill myself all you want. you'll never be louder than the voice in my head who almost convinced me to do it.

I've already reached my lowest point in my life. I've gotten better. I love myself too much to let you take that away from me.

you, on the other hand, are sitting alone in your room and copypasting the same generic message to random trans people you see online, because your life has literally no value, because you will never do anything of note, because you're unworthy of any sort of affection from others, and you will die alone, unhappy, unfulfilled, unaccomplished, and your last dying wish as you sit on your death bed surrounded by no one is that you could have spent more time being a cruel heartless bigoted irredeemable cunt to people online.

meanwhile I'll be living my best life. I'll forget about your entire existence later this afternoon. I'll continue to spend time with the people I love, and help spread positivity to people who need it. I will outlast you. I'll live my life to the fullest while you rot in your isolation. I will outlive you. my legacy will continue after I'm gone while people will try and pretend that your ilk never existed. I will outlove you. I will be a reminder that your negativity and hatred is but a momentary stain on existence that will be washed away by unconditional love and support.

I'm no longer speaking to that anonymous asker. instead I address this to my followers, as well as anyone else who may see this post: do not answer anon hate ever. it's not worth it. those people do not care about your response, and only receive gratification from seeing you suffer.

I know a lot of you weren't online in ye olden days. but back then, we had rules for the internet. and one of them is to never feed the trolls. feeding the trolls mean they win. somewhere along the line some of them managed to convince people that blocking the trolls means they win. that's not true. blocking means you win because you'll never have to see their disgusting horrendous comments again. the block button is your best friend. use it.

if you get anon hate, delete it. block the sender (which I'm pretty sure now ip blocks whoever sent the ask), and if it continues, turn of anons, or even turn off asks in general. do not let them hurt you. do not engage. do not respond. do not answer them. they aren't looking for a debate. and you won't change their mind. answering their ask just exposes their slop to all your followers. and none of them want to see that shit.

remember that for every hateful anon message you get, there are 100 people who love you unconditionally and care about you. do not let the loud hateful minority win.

maybe what I'm doing counts as feeding the troll. I'm not directly answering their ask, but I'm still getting involved. but fuck it. I'm turning their hate into positivity. I'm using this as a moment to spread awareness to others.

if you're a person on the internet who's received hateful messages, especially if you're trans, I promise you that you're not alone. ignore them. find people who care about you and love you. I promise that the small annoying obnoxious voice does not represent the opinions of society as a whole. I promise that nothing they say is true. I promise that you are loved. unconditionally. forever. simply because you are you.

[lifes-pinata]

Duck and Mytho, A Relationship Analysis

BY POPULAR DEMAND (10 notes and 1 prompt by a blog I follow and admire)

Duck and Mytho are obviously so very important to each others stories. Without Duck, Mytho would have remained a heartless doll forever. And without Mytho, Duck would have remained a simple bird. The story cannot exist without Duck, and up until the last few episodes, Mytho remains her primary motivation.

Which is why is was so surprising to me that the way their relationship resolved was so..... Unsatisfying.

Now when I say that, I am not talking about Siegfried and Tutu's resolution, which remains one of the most touching scenes of the show. I am specifically talking about the relationship between Mytho and Duck.

For the first 14 episodes, Duck and Mytho's friendship was a slow but steady burn. Duck is an anomaly in Mytho's small world. Even heartless, he doesn't quite know what to make of her. "Fakir and Rue don't say things like that" he says in episode 3, when Duck reacts to his hurt hand.

Duck, as a person, represents something Mytho never encountered even when he was Siegfried. Her simple, straightforward kindness is so different from Rue's desperate, grasping love. Fakir's poisonous protection, and even the blushing, tittering classmates that never dare to speak to him.

And even though Mytho can't express it, I think it's really valuable to him. Early on, Duck is the only person capable of making his loneliness disappear. Not Rue or Fakir, who he's known for years (which he says to their faces oh my GOD) but Duck. The first request he makes is that she stays a little longer.

The entire first arc Duck continually proves herself to be trustworthy. Once Mytho returned to school after receiving the feeling of fear, Duck tackle hugs him, saying she looked for him everywhere. She knows about Princess Tutu, and is the only one who listens to him. Who doesn't talk over him. She brought him an umbrella when he was waiting for Tutu. He values her opinion enough that he asked her opinion on gifts to get someone. And yeah maybe he could have asked anyone, but we never see him seek someone out until the Raven's Blood kicks in.

In episode 14, Mytho says to Duck, straight out "You're the only friend whom I can tell everything." And then? They never interact again? Huh???

Well. That's not entirely true. There is one more scene where Duck and Mytho interact, if you believe that Mytho was lucid enough to truly count it. Episode 24, where Mytho has fully succumbed to the Raven's blood, and as a result has turned into a raven himself. He runs outside, after being hidden away by Rue, and finds Duck. And what does he do? He asks her to dance, just as he did on the day of the fire festival. But this time, Duck doesn't answer. She backs away from the monster he's become, just like everyone else.

To its credit, that is a resolution, but it still doesn't sit right with me. It feels too bleak in a story where hope overcomes everything else. A spot where Drosselmeyer's tragedy wins.

The thing is, I understand why they did it this way. One thing I have always appreciated about Princess Tutu is that there is no wasted time. Even at the beginning of the show, when it seemed lighter and sillier, every episode contained important information. From the very beginning, they were building to the finale.

The second arc of the show is even more this way, there is no wasted space. Where would they even put Duck and Mytho interactions? Duck is reckless but she knows better then to approach Mytho when he's actively trying to rip out the hearts of their classmates. If anything, trying to shoehorn interactions would come across as forced, and could even cheapen their interactions in the finale.

But as much as I love the scene where Mytho realizes that Princess Tutu was a duck. I also wish he had a moment to realize that the duck was Duck.

Because Princess Tutu performed magic and returned heart shards with her beautiful dancing.

But Duck did the hard work of being human. Of living and loving and trying and failing and getting back up.

It was Duck who saved the town in the end.

And it was Duck, who was ultimately forgotten.

[bookwormbynight]

You know what's infuriating. Light wasn't past the point of no return after he wrote Higuchi's name. Like, he was, himself. Kira was back, and Kira wasn't stopping. But L's fucking inaction sealed Light's coffin.

To be fair, L didn't know the rule about destroying the death note was fake, but like. He figured out the 13 day rule was fake. Literally the only thing stopping him from following that train of thought was a lack of desire.

Here's the things he knew:

Light Yagami was probably Kira for a myriad of behavioral and circumstantial reasons

The 13 day rule exonerated him, but it was suspicious because it was a) a little too on the nose, and b) on a different page than most of the rules

The rule about not destroying the death note at risk of your life was the only other rule on the same exact goddamn page and was also incredibly convenient for someone who might like to continue using the thing

Based on behavior, it would make a lot of sense for Light to have lost his memory of being Kira

If that assumption was the truth, then Light absolutely just gained his memories back thanks to something to do with the physical notebook

Of course there were definitely some cons to the 'going in guns ablaze' approach for him. He wouldn't find out if the rule was true or not unless HE started dying, as opposed to the other option where he put somebody else's life at risk (how ironic that honestly I don't think Rem would have killed him over destroying the notebook). He wouldn't have the evidence anymore. There was the possibility that, since Light's memories were clearly attached to it, his might be attached too which means he would be losing that knowledge after solving the case. And, of course, he definitely had a Thing for Kira and would he be willing to upend the board and give up Kira-Light in order to cheat his way into a win?

Well, in my personal opinion, boo hoo bitch. Quit fucking moping on the roof in the rain about how your ex-boyfriend is about to kill you and fucking DO something about it. Just burn the goddamn notebook, grab Light, and abscond from Japan with him. But Whatever. Die, ig 😭

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

I really don't think there's enough fics involving butt stuff with The Ghoul. He defo strikes me as the type who fingers your asshole while fucking you from behind just to watch you squirm. It's like a dominance thing for him when you've been disobedient, but you'll never admit how much you love being his submissive little slut. Are readers and writers just not into it? Or have I just been looking in the wrong places?

To comment: from what I've seen in the years I've been consuming and writing erotic fan content, stuff that involves anal does, in fact, seem to be weirdly polarizing (depending entirely on the writer and the audience you're publishing to, of course). I'm not entirely sure whether that's due to writers' own personal taste, audience preference, stigma...a combination of factors? It's definitely a phenomenon I've noticed. I also wonder if there isn't just a contingent of folks who have no experience with anal and therefore no interest in it.

Personally, I try to incorporate lots of different tastes and "moves" into my work, and I think the people that subscribe to this blog have come to expect that. Butt stuff is nowhere near the most potentially scarring thing I've exposed y'all to, and will continue to not be. :)

However, at the same time, when I feature actual anal sex in any of my stuff, I try to be at least somewhat tactful and depict is as a realistic sex act, which can be kind of a task sometimes when you're trying to be both erotic and not completely impossible. Poorly written anal scenes both aren't hot and kinda ruin the vibe of the entire work, in my opinion. I think there's a difference between "suspension of reality for sexual fantasy" and "spreading bad sex ed information through fiction". There's certainly a place for pain play/painal type stuff, but there's also a place for the complete opposite. It's a bit intimidating for me when I write it sometimes; maybe some others feel the same, so they don't write it as often compared to other things? Complete conjecture.

To answer your actual ask:

You're absolutely right. That motherfucker absolutely loves making you squirm by giving you pleasure in ways that gross you out. He sees a sliver of his old self in you, himself when he was new to this ghastly world, when he clung desperately to anything that would give him a sense of normalcy. In this, there's a sick thrill for him; he gets to be the one to show you how things really work, his sheltered little vaultie. The world out here is even meaner and more disgusting than you could ever imagine.

He'll prove it.

You aren't inexperienced, but pretty much all of the experience you do have is vanilla, very straightforward sex. Exploration on this topic isn't exactly at the forefront of your mind, either, what with how much of an adjustment period you're having to go through after leaving home for the first time in your life. The stress of it all is what initially drives you into his arms, seeking any form of real comfort you can find from the only companion you have.

The sex is a good stress reliever when he isn't springing things on you. He is rather good for such a hot-and-cold old prick, and he clearly knows it by his demeanor; the way he preens over your crumpled form after he makes you cum so hard you forget how to speak is infuriating. You like fucking him, but you can't let him know just how much. He'd be genuinely insufferable if he found out.

Whether it's your reserved reactions to his obvious smugness, or something else internal, you're unsure, but he quickly begins to push your buttons for bigger and bigger returns. Most of the tricks he pulls you enjoy the feeling of, but the way he watches you to gauge your reaction makes it feel like he's winning, somehow, and it doesn't sit right with you. Doubling down your efforts, you try your hardest to be unshakable.

Unfortunately, the first time he slides his tongue down to tease at your asshole while he's eating you out makes you fold completely.

"That's disgusting!" you huff, wriggling beneath him. Telling him to stop doesn't follow like you want it to; the words get caught in your throat as he pushes the tip of the wriggling muscle into you, his other hand playing softly with your clit as your aching pussy throbs.

"Had my tongue much worse places, believe me." he replies, his eyes burning up at you from between your legs. It's so embarrassing.

However, the next time he's helping you out, before you even realize it, your hips are moving in a pronounced arc, trying your best to will him to slide his tongue further down without having to suffer the indignity of asking for it, of him knowing he's gotten this over on you. It feels amazing and you refuse to beg. Fortunately, he doesn't make you...this time.

When he's finished with you, he doesn't immediately pull away, both of you lying together in a spent puddle of limbs for a breathless moment.

"It's still gross, you know." you say, flat and halfhearted in exhaustion.

"Oh, shut the fuck up." he grunts back, eyes rolling as he pulls himself into an upright sitting position. "I didn't see you whining when you were tryin' to crush my head with your thighs, princess."

"I can't help it! It tickles when you do that!" you argue, indignant and searing hot in the face.

"Oh yeah, kid. I bet it tickles real good. That why you came so hard?" he smirks, leaning back so he can right his clothing, his eyes never leaving yours. You pull yourself up and storm off to the other side of the room to redress, annoyed.

And yes, probably his favorite overall move is to sneak one of his fingers or his thumb into your ass while he fucks you from behind; the shock in your posture, in your voice, along with the tight, hot feeling of your little hole (holes) around him...it's probably for the best that he can't see your face, no matter how badly he wishes he could. He knows he'd cum instantly.

As for you, the feeling is infuriatingly electrifying, right on the line between pleasure and discomfort. His long, nimble digit isn't even all the way inside you, only sunk to just above the second knuckle, but he's quickly working it further and further in, the rest of his hand curling to cup the roundness of your cheek as he supports your hips. The stretch isn't too intrusive, but his skin is so rough in texture that it makes you squirm as he presses on, spit and your other body fluids the only lubrication you're given.

"Fuck, be careful!" you hiss. His only response is a harsh swat to your bare ass with his unoccupied hand, which draws a yelp from your parched throat as he yanks you back even more firmly by the leverage he now has. Your hands scramble for purchase across the sandy desert floor, unable to hold yourself up properly as he hammers away at you with an almost possessed vigor. Quickly, your head falls further down with the force of his movements, sending you sliding forward a few inches.

He doesn't like that.

"Don't fuckin' run from me." he growls, the hand that isn't spearing you wrapping quickly around your shoulder to yank you back again. His hips snap into yours viciously, the pace increasing as he loses his grip on whatever remaining self-control he has. Your battered cunt clenches hard around him at the feeling, at his words, and soon you're both howling out your release as he digs his nails into your thighs, rutting you so hard you fully face-plant into the ground. When it's over, he at least has the courtesy to make sure you didn't bump your head too hard. He does not, however, apologize for the massive bruise on your ass from where he struck you more than once. Typical.

Eventually, you allow him enough control to restrain you, which you know is almost certainly a mistake. However, by now you're addicted to the feeling he gives you when he takes over, when he pushes your boundaries and uses you to sate whatever passion burns inside him. Besides, he's protected and saved you enough times by now to have earned your trust, even if you know that he'll sometimes use it against you for devious reasons.

The rope he always carries doesn't hurt against your skin like you'd feared it would, but he's also quite delicate in how he secures your arms and legs, each limb immobilized and leaving you on your back, completely at his mercy. He spends forever teasing you, worshiping every part of you with his mouth and hands until you're begging, begging for release, begging for him to stretch you.

"It's alright. I'll take care of you." he promises, the tone he uses with you now so much softer than when you met. You feel relief at his words, ready to feel your aching cunt wrap around him, but he doesn't move to expose himself. Instead, he produces a small bottle of what you quickly discover is some sort of neutral oil, which he applies liberally. The feeling of the cool, thin substance running down your folds makes you shiver in the best way, but you're tense when his teasing fingers move from your clit, prodding at your taut ass.

Slowly, he works his middle finger inside you, the sensation more pleasant now that you've become accustomed to it. After a minute or two, he's moving it back and forth freely, adding another dribble of oil before setting the bottle aside, placing his free fingers on your clit. The way he rubs at you as he fucks you with his other hand makes your toes curl, and you get lost in the sensation until you feel his index finger start to prod at you, as well.

"You trust me?" he asks. Your eyes dropping closed, you nod silently.

He's incredibly gentle as he works the second finger in alongside the first, stretching you further than ever before and making your mouth fall open in a silent groan. He watches your face, your body language, closely, trying his best to stay calm and steady as he begins to move his hand once more, the other never stilling on your clit.

The sensation is incredibly overwhelming, a fullness you've never felt before, especially when he eventually adds a third finger. Your body is lit up with sensation and twitching eagerly the entire time, both wanting to pull off of his hand and to plunge yourself down further. When he leans down and seals his lips around your clit, you scream out an orgasm that leaves you trembling against your restraints, which he actually lets you out of before fucking you so hard you literally cannot stand immediately afterwards.

"You're so mean to me, you know. I don't want to like this stuff." you sigh, mostly joking.

"Don't worry, I'll have you begging for my cock in your ass soon." he promises, that wicked glint back in his eye that makes you nervous.

You hide your burning face in his throat as he chuckles at you, the sound of him lighting a cigarette snapping through the air, his other arm wrapped around your waist as you lean against him. Biting your tongue, you hold back the urge to snarkily respond to him.

You know he's right. It's only a matter of time.

[pedroshotwifey]

Ok, random idea for drabble:

Overprotective girldad! Frankie

He and the guys get together to size up/intimidate the guy coming by to pick up his daughter for a date. 😅

Okay I'm really kind of loving this idea 🤣

Think I had way too much fun with it!

W/C: 660

Overprotective girldad!Frankie (G)

They could be doing anything right now. Bowling, flying, fishing, hiking, shooting pool, drinking—well, you get the idea. They could be doing anything on this cool Friday night, but the former Delta Team boys are sitting around the island in Frankie’s cramped kitchen, waiting for his daughter’s date to show up. 

“Frankie,” Benny speaks up for the group. “You have got to give her some slack, dude.” 

The glare Frankie sends the younger man’s way makes the rest of the guys glad Benny said it first. Benny—being Benny—doesn’t get the hint. 

“I mean, c’mon, she’s nineteen.” He tosses another handful of peanuts into his mouth, continuing his risky  and unwanted opinion with a mouth full of food. “And a grown adult.” 

For the sake of his good friend, Frankie pretends not to hear and goes back to scoping out his front lawn through the living room window. He peers out the temporary crack he’s made in the blinds for another couple of minutes, and then suddenly jumps away. 

“Little shit’s finally here,” Frankie grumbles as he walks past the group, glancing at his watch. “Minute and a half late.” He marches to the front door. 

Knowing that’s their queue to follow, the men eye each other before sliding off the barstools and gathering around their paranoid friend. It would be comical to see Frankie so worked up over this kid if he weren’t so serious about it. He’s absolutely convinced that there is no boy out there good enough for his little girl, and there is not a breathing soul on this earth that could change his mind. 

So they huddle up in their most intimidating stance, Santi to the left of Frankie, Benny to the right, and Will behind and between Frankie and Ben. If for no other reason than to make sure Frankie doesn’t give off “Little Man Syndrome” energy all by himself, they puff their chests, stand tall, and put on stern faces. 

The poor kid doesn’t even get to knock before Frankie pulls the door open. One glance at the guys, and he looks about ready to piss his pants—which really only proves Frankie’s point. 

“M-Mr. Morales?” The kid squeaks, doing his damndest to only focus on Frankie, and holds his hand out to shake. “I’m Tyler, here to pick your daughter up for—” he stutters when Frankie raises a brow— “for our date.” 

Frankie stares for a second, and the kid—Tyler—just about breaks down. 

“I-I mean, not our date, but y-your daughter’s. O-obviously. And mine—me and your daughter, our date.” 

Santi glances at Will, who is already side-eyeing Santi. That look conveys exactly what they’re both thinking: someone should really put this guy out of his misery. Luckily, Charlotte appears at the top of the stairs at that exact moment. 

“Oh my god, Dad!” She bursts out. “Stop making Tyler feel weird!” 

And it’s like a switch is flipped in Frankie. He turns around, smile bright on his face for his daughter. None of the guys are phased—this is how these things usually go. 

“Of course I’m not, sweetheart! Tyler and I actually just finished up a great conversation.” He turns back to the boy, still cheery. “Isn’t that right, sport?” 

Tyler, who looks like he should probably drink some water, quickly nods. “Yes, absolutely,” he agrees. 

Charlotte scoffs, not totally buying it, and quickly hurries the rest of the way downstairs. Before she reaches the torture circle at the front doorway, Frankie smiles one last time at Tyler. 

“Hurt her, and see what happens,” he says, just loudly enough for the kid to hear, and in a tone that would sound joking to anybody else. 

A hug for his daughter and a (possibly too aggressive) pat on the shoulder for Tyler later, the kids are headed down the driveway, one a tad more stiff than the other. 

“Be back by nine,” Frankie calls after them. 

Will glances at the clock and sighs. It’s 8:12pm. 

[teecupangel]

Hii teecup!! Hope you're doing well!!

May I ask some a/b/o AltDes stuff please (alpha! Altaïr and Omega!Desmond) because there's not much of it out there :'D

Now I'm sure Altaïr would more open minded and much less of an asshole to omegas then most of the people back in his days..... HOWEVER, please hear me out, what if he wasn't

He could be low-key about it, unlike most alphas who are very vocal and open about their 'opinions' on Omegas and such. He's very aloof when it comes to omegas in general, not having strong feelings on anything (very Altaïr behaviour honestly). That is until he meets Desmond.

Now instead of time travel, this time Desmond was born in Altaïr's time. This means Desmond would be raised as a traditional and submissive omega, but he still fought back. He could be born in Alamut (because Eagle of Alamut XD) as the son of the mentor (who is not Diya al-Dīn because he would never) who trained and became an assassin... sort of because idiot bigots.

Desmond is the best assassin in his entire brotherhood, BUT he's not officially an assassin. His father/mentor isn't as strict like most and let him get away with his antics, usually.

That is until Desmond was 'of age' and that's when it starts getting bad for our boy. His dad became more controlling and won't let him sneak off to do missions or fight anymore. He was to be married to whoever the assassins could use as allies. Basically just a bargaining chip. Desmond would fight back harder then ever, even with one of the best assassins guarding him and monitoring his move all the time, he would still be able to sneak off to continue doing missions to make them see just how capable he was.

He could runaway, he probably should runaway, but deep down all he wanted was for his father to love him again. To look at him with pride and treat him like a son again. (Altaïr would use this fact as an advantage later on)

But then it all comes crashing down when he finally gets betrothed. (Idk who he should be betrothed to LMAO it could be whoever. Someone very powerful that the assassins could use)

And all was going to shit for Desmond but it all went to super shit when Altaïr showed up. Because oh boy, Altaïr was a Strom of his own.

Now I honestly don't know how he and Altaïr meets, but it definitely left an impression on Altaïr because he was smitten from the first time they made eye contact. Man was obsessed from here on out kajsksjssoakakak.

And uhh yeah that's all I've got, plot wise

Some notes.

- Desmond pulling all the alpha assholes like catnip.

- Altaïr, manipulating Desmond as a sign of affection

- Malik suffers because we love him <33

Honestly teecup, I just wanted a toxic a/b/o au but it grew plotty legs and ran out of my grasps, my apologies.

And that's all for now!

Sorry in advance if my English is very trying, I'm typing on my phone and it's not the best experience.

PS please make it as toxic and horny as Tumblr allows you to, and I would give you my kidneys.

PPS if you think you know who I am by how I write..... No you don't/lh

As horny and as toxic as Tumblr would allow it? I don’t even know the limit of Tumblr’s tolerance hahahaha

So for this one, if you want Desmond to be born in Alamut as a son of the mentor but not Diya al-Dīn, we can make him the son of an older brother of Diya al-Dīn instead. Born more as a way for the older brother, who was passed over because Diya al-Dīn was more worthy of the title, to try and get power with his son being the next in line for the imam since Diya al-Dīn was still childless at that point.

Diya al-Dīn would be the kind uncle who tried to do right by his nephew but can’t truly intervene because his brother was controlling and had a firm grasp on Desmond’s every day life. It was going well, all things considered.

Desmond wasn’t a genius nor was he inherently talented but he was a hard worker and he always went beyond what was required of him.

His father rewards his hard work by giving him a bit of leeway, all the while making him drink medicinal tea that was meant to change him into an alpha.

It didn’t do anything but hide his scent… which had been easy to do in the first place because those not yet of age only had a hint of scent to show their ‘status’.

Diya al-Dīn tried to be accepting of Desmond’s wish to be an Assassin even if omegas aren’t exactly… well… only omegas that could control their ‘base instinct’ could become Assassins which was hard for an omega without the help of some kind of medicine that would leave them in pain or groggy.

Desmond, unfortunately, is one of the omegas that cannot be medicated. Even if he drank more than he should, that only leaves him in unbearable pain.

That’s why his father pivoted from Desmond becoming the next imam to having some talks with certain powerful rulers. Finding Desmond an alpha that would take him as their official wife or one of his concubine.

His father was less picky of Desmond’s standing and more interested in creating a political bond with a powerful ally (whether he plans to use this to usurp Diya al-Dīn or he simply wants more power outside of the Brotherhood is up for grabs)

And he finally finds one but Desmond would enter into that household as a concubine. His marriage proposition wasn’t a good one all things considered, the alpha was a powerful one but it was well known that his official wife and the older concubines were dangerous. Newer concubines either die from poisoning or accidents or childbirth and, more often than not, their children would not survive more than five summers.

So Desmond escapes. Maybe, just maybe, Diya al-Dīn had a hand in the patrol routes that night and it left certain large windows of opportunity for Desmond to use.

Alamut, of course, will look for him. That’s why Desmond would try to hide from them.

That’s how he meets Altaïr.

He was desperate and his heat was upon him. Altaïr’s scent was overpowering and he could feel it within him that this was an alpha that would fight tooth and nail to keep his omega safe.

He wasn’t a romantic.

He had already accepted the very idea that his alpha would not love him.

He doesn’t need it.

Love did not bring his omega parent any happiness, no matter how overflowing their love for Desmond’s alpha father had been.

What he needed was an alpha who would take care of him and any child he would bear.

So he used his scent to weaken the alpha’s defenses.

It was Desmond who made it impossible for Altaïr to resist.

And so Altaïr claimed him.

.

Unorganized Notes:

Desmond escaped a few weeks after Altaïr killed Rashid but before AC Bloodlines. (So late Sept, early Oct)

He was on his way to Alamut to talk to Diya al-Dīn about being the new mentor (he doesn’t want to be the next mentor) and they actually spent Desmond’s heat in a random abandoned home

Alamut Assassins found them afterwards and, by that point, Desmond was sooo thoroughly claimed that there was no way to say that Altaïr wasn’t his alpha.

This also changed Altaïr’s desire to not be the mentor because the easiest way to keep Desmond by his side is to be the mentor of Masyaf with his marriage to Desmond being a way to ‘mend’ the broken relationship between Alamut and Masyaf.

Desmond’s father was not pleased but fuck him, by law, Desmond was now the property of his mate and Altaïr has no qualms killing the asshole if he doesn’t stop yapping about how he raised Desmond and should have the final say on everything.

He returns to Masyaf and… sorta kicked all the Flowers of Paradise. To be more exact, they were transferred to another part of the fortress while the entirety of Paradise became Desmond’s new home. (Desmond and his most definitely growing child)

That is the second headache Malik got.

The first one was the fact that Altaïr returned with Alamut’s blessing as the mentor (which Altaïr had stressed he would never take) and an omega mate (which he had always said would never happen)

Desmond is free to go anywhere in Masyaf but he will always have guards on him because security reason.

Desmond believes Altaïr’s affection stemmed from the fact that he did more or less coerced Altaïr to biting him during the throes of heat-induced passion so he wants a child to further keep Altaïr ‘happy’ and satisfied (not knowing that the mentor title isn’t passed down from father to son in Masyaf, he honestly believe Altaïr is Rashid’s adopted son)

Altaïr was never fully enthralled during Desmond’s heat. He has been trained to have high tolerance as part of Rashid’s plan to make him the ultimate ‘attack dog’. He marked Desmond fully knowing Desmond was desperate and was trying to ‘seduce’ him.

Honestly, Altaïr just wanted Desmond because his scent had been the sweetest ambrosia he had ever smelled and he believed that meant they were meant to be.

And he will not let anyone get between them, no matter who they may be.

[ficks-of-fancy2]

MHA is a nightmare and my personal punching bag

A lot of people like to say that MHA is bad. But a large sum of the fandom has largely ignored the actually problems with the story and characters as a whole. The problems that have been applauded despite the gaping flaws. So let's discus.

Where do I start? My Hero Academia is the single most horrible show I have watched for some time. It's good points are far and few between the shit show of it's story and characters. So it's small problems first. It's over sexualizaton of it the teens in it's cast is just abhorrent and I hold similar sentiments for the fandom in some cases. The villains frankly get too much attention, with one crazy man's ideology pulling all the weight of their missguided motive. Or everything being a direct result of one delusional man's puppeteering. Not to mention the overall demonization of mental illness and inherently flawed take of forgiving your abusers.

Midoriya and All Might is a toxic relationship. Sorry about the whiplash, allow me to explain. From the start we get to see Midoriya as a victim of Bakugo's almost constant abuse, but also his love of All Might. The idyllic and 'perfect' hero he aspires to be and is convenient to. Izuku Midoriya is All Might's convenient child because Midoriya is too blinded by his idol worship to see that All Might is using him to continue his battles, slowly grooming Midoriya into the next him. All Might is the last oasis in the desert of his life and Midoriya has none of the tools necessary to leave, All Might wont let him leave. And he goes unchallenged by the story for lifting up Midoriya's suicidal tendencies by preying on his need for validation through action. All Might is using Midoriya to desperately cling to his golden years and that is actively detrimental to Midoriya's growth as a character.

If I may compare Izuku to another similar character, and I shall. Mahiru Shirota is one of the protagonists of Servamp, a character driven manga about servant vampires or Servamps and their masters or Eves. Mahiru is the eve of sloth, his Servamp, Kuro or Sleepy Ash. Mahiru at the start of the story is almost identical to Midoriya through out mha, Mahiru is a convenient child for everyone in the story. He doesn't voice his objection or opinions beyond what you would expect from a kid like him. He aims to please and is almost suicidal in his pursuit of validation. But were Midoriya stagnates, Mahiru blooms, he grows to be more selfish and loving thanks to the logical end point of that stagnant arc, Kuro. Kuro was killed by sloth, his willingness to take the blame for a crime he didn't commit for the sake of his village. His selflessness and the inherent selfish need of external validation was no different than suicide. But were Kuro and Mahiru grow, Midoriya just doesn't, he rots on the vine and fails to become anything. His lack of growth makes him come off as winey and pathetic or just boring because he doesn't change for the better. His stint of vigilantism is just every adult in his life telling him that sacrificing himself is how he will atone for his inherited burden. For the sin of All Might's sloth for what Yagi and the other holders allowed to fester in the dark.

Bakugo Katsuki is... a good premise with bad execution. Bakugo's entire arc is learning to not be a fucking asshole, simple in premise and absolute horse shit in execution. From the word go, Bakugo is shown to be an abuser. Midoriya's abuser to be precise. Going so far as to actively tell Midoriya to kill himself. Now, Bakugo's abuse is born from a place of projection, Bakugo is a narcissist, not in the traditional sense, but more in a way that makes him unable to empathize with positive emotion in relation to himself and others. He is the center of the world, but at the same time he thinks of himself as worthless without his strength, unable to exist with the knowledge that he isn't the best of the best. Bakugo's arc ends far too late. Bakugo's arc should had started after the sports festival at his interaction with Best Jeanist leading to an apology tour and ended during the culture festival, his payoff during the fight against AFO Shigaraki and the vigilante Deku arc. Bonus points if Midoriya doesn't forgive him at first, leading to Bakugo working to regain that trust in more tangible ways. Have Bakugo seek towards empathy.

Ochako Uraraka isn't a character, not a well made one at least. To be fair this is something most of the cast suffers from. If it isn't the main protagonists or antagonists, the writer doesn't care. Uraraka is just the love interest without any depth of character beyond that. People like to pretend there is more going on, but I just don't see it. All of her 'growth' is motivated by her obsessive and honestly one sided love for Midoriya, a love that is only returned when Midoriya and she are looking for something to fill the void. It's toxic and terribly familiar to his and All Might's relationship. Midoriya is constantly put into the role of savior to all of these characters that don't in turn assist in his growth.

Speaking of Midoriya's role of savior, we have finally arrived at the L.O.V. The League of Villains is a good premise for an exploration of the inner politics of a world where 20% of the world lacks a unique superpower (that's still a lot BTW). Or to dive into the segregation of those with detrimental, uncontrollable, or 'villainous' quirks. The bigotry towards mutagenic quirks. Or an actual exploration of the inherent flaws of a society that has put a price tag on altruism, something more than senseless slaughter spearheaded by manchilds and mass murderers. The L.O.V deserved to be something more than the flawed argument of some fanatical lack of worthiness and some vague notion that rebellion against a already broken system is a problem. It's stupid, The League of Villains had potential to be actually interesting, but it was made into anarchy for the sake of it never even attempting to offer a solution to a system broken for those already in power.

Yet somehow we have missed the biggest point of what a hero is. A hero is a person who does what they can to save people who are hurt, broken, or lost. Even when they are the 'villains' or more plainly the mentally ill and those rejected by society. Somehow we have forgotten or ignored all of the Wake the Deads, the For the Man Who Has Everythings, the Flash And Substances, and the Epilogues. All the stories that told us that sometimes the best thing to do is be there for people. Being a hero isn't about fighting. It's just about being there. For the people, all of the people. But also understanding that some people can't be helped. People like Baby Doll and Shigaraki, Dabi and All For One, people to far gone or too hurt to help. Toga and Twice just needed help they weren't given. It is what was born of the legacy of All Might, peace and complacency, a smile hiding everyone else's tears. Every single crime committed by Shigaraki and the L.O.V is the direct fault of All Might. Because he refused to see the people he was fighting as what they were. Evil is often relative because to an ant a boot is evil. Rarely in the world does true evil exist and often it is taught or held in those who believe themselves without betters or equals.