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canthelpit0 · 2 months

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Fake?

Pairing: Matt sturniolo x Reader

Word count : 3.2k +

Summary: matt and reader have known each other since forever. And they’ve been attached at the hip since forever. But what happens when they start to just let everyone think they’re dating, since it’s too hard to convince them otherwise anyway..

Warnings: friends to lovers, fluff, (sort of) fake dating, use of y/n, sweet talk, praise kink, pet names (sweetheart, baby, etc.), gentle sex, oral fem!Reciving, unprotected, creampie, 2nd person.

(A/N: sorry this is actually so short. But I wanted to write something more fluffy for Matt.)

Being childhood friends with the triplets there was always something going on in your life.

You and Matt have been tied at the hip since you were just babies. And sometimes it felt like he was more dependent on you than his own triplet brothers.

You were always together, hanging out. Good thing you were neighbors.

Back when you were younger it was even worse. You’d always sleep in the same bed. Whether at his or your house, you were always snuggling into each other.

You’d hold hands whenever you went anywhere. You made his anxiety better.

You were always there for him. And always being there for him, you were there for his first panic attack. You didn’t know what to do, but just your presence made him calm down faster.

How close you were was questionable, It was cute when you were kids, but you were both seniors in high school now.

Obviously, you were best friends with Nick and Chris too. Yet with Matt, it was different.

He was popular around school. Well not really him. But he was known because he is a triplet. Matt out of the three of them was the most introverted so naturally, he seemed the most mysterious.

Most people also thought you two were dating. And you did nothing to stop them from thinking that. After all, why would you care about what they say?

Matt was currently pacing around in front of you though. You were sitting on your bed, propped against your headboard, as you just watched him move around.

Contrary to popular belief, The most you and Matt had ever done is kiss. And that was only because you got dared to in middle school. And it was only one time.

“C’mon y/n/n please” he whines dramatically. Matt comes over to your bed draping his upper body across your legs, his hands are clasped together dramatically.

“It’s like we’re already dating anyway.”

Matt and his brothers have a shared YouTube that they started recently, about being triplets. You have featured in it plenty of times.

People were shipping you and Matt. And people in real life also thought you were dating.

So Matt being scared to be shipped with other content creators, or any girl he was around, wanted you to pretend to be his girlfriend.

You wouldn’t even have to change anything about the way you act, really. You two already act like a couple.

“Matt” you sigh your hands finding their way to his hair. You card through it gently rubbing his scalp.

“Y/n/n please” he begs again. His upper body is draped on your legs. His lower body is kneeling on the floor next to the bed.

Matt didn’t like being shipped. But he’d been shipped with you all his life. And if he had a ‘girlfriend’ people would stop getting into his business.

“Okay” you give in. Because of course, you do. This is your long-time best friend. You can never say no to him.

He perks up. “Really??” He sits up on his knees on the floor. His arms are still draped across your lap.

“Yeah, but what does it In tail ?” You ask slowly with a slight smile creeping up your face at the way he reacted.

“Nothing, we just say we’re dating” he shrugs. You already acted like it.

“Y’know and maybe kiss sometimes” he shrugs with a slight smile. He wasn’t going to kiss you every time you were on camera, that’d feel forced. He was just gonna kiss you whenever he felt like it, and use that as a way to show affection.

“Nothing we haven’t done before” he adds jokingly.

In a rush of boldness, you pull him up by his shirt and pull him towards yourself. He gets on top of you with a teasing smile, and your lips crash together.

It’s a sweet normal kiss, there are no sparks. It’s just a simple press of lips.

Once he pulls away you chuckle. “What’re we gonna tell Nick and Chris?” You question. “Are they gonna know?”

“Just let them think we’re dating too, I'm pretty sure they’re already convinced” Matt chuckles looking down at you fondly.

He gets off of you, rolling to the side of your bed. He pulls the covers up and gets underneath. Matt pulls you down too, so that you’re lying snuggled up in his arms.

★ ★ ★

So that is how you two started dating. And that was two years ago now.

At that time they’d only had around 20k YouTube followers and way more on TikTok. And now they were at 6 million.

You were also a YouTuber and TikToker now. Except you post whenever you want to.

You’d moved out from Boston to LA with them because, oh you’re still Matt’s girlfriend.

You have your own bedroom. Though you don’t use it very much. You’ve always loved sleeping in the same bed as Matt, cuddling all night, and that never changed.

People believe you’re dating. Which was the whole point. Even your families do, with no suspicion at all.

Except what nobody knows, is that you and Matt have never done anything further than make out. Even with two years of dating. You just never cared to really.

But you did everything else, cuddle, share sweet kisses, go on dates, hang out, and be close to each other.

It was almost like you were actually dating.

And the reason why it lasted so long with barely any problems, was because you and Matt never had an eye for anyone else. It was always you two against the world.

You and Matt were sitting on the couch watching some Netflix show. Nick and Chris were not home, they were at some influencer party.

Suddenly you turn your body and get on top of Matt. You leave a long kiss on his lips, catching him off guard.

“Matt.”

He looks back at you as you sit there straddling his lap. His hands snake to your waist to hold you. Your hands resting on his shoulders.

“Mhm?” He hums in response.

“You know how we’ve done almost everything a couple would?” You ask slowly.

He raises an eyebrow at the statement but nods.

“How about we-“ you cut yourself off for a moment. You click your tongue thinking of how to word it. “Can we fuck?”

That catches Matt off guard. Since it’s once again not what he expected. He pauses looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

“You want me to fuck you?” He asks again seeing if he heard that correctly.

“Yes please?” You say slowly. But before you can question if it was a smart idea to ask that or not, he’s already lifting you and carrying you to your shared bedroom.

He throws you onto the bed gently. You tell at the impact but before you know it Matt’s lips are on yours again.

He pulls away for a moment to swiftly pull his shirt over his head and throws it away. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but this was different. This felt… sensual, almost.

He gets on top of you, as you lay in the middle of the king-sized bed. He showers you with kisses, slowly trailing his kisses to your jawline and neck.

You can feel him suck on your collarbone leaving a Purple bruise. Your breath hitches as you start to feel his hand start to run over your side.

You keep looking up at him through lust heavy eyes. You watch his every move anticipating what he’ll do next.

“Want me to make you feel good sweetheart?” He teases, his tone ever so soft.

Ever since you’ve known Matt was a romantic. Almost even a hopeless romantic. But maybe it was you all along.

“Please” you breathe out. Matt pulls away slightly his eyes looking over your face. He looks fond. Like you’re the best thing to ever have happened to him.

He starts to tug on your shirt. “Can I?” He whispers. This entire thing feels so incredibly romantic and loving.

You nod, shifting slightly to let him take your shirt off.

Once his eyes fall on your bra he smiles. He smiled fondly like this was all he had been waiting for all his life.

“You’re so gorgeous.“

He mumbles under his breath. His kisses go back to your collarbone, leaving even more love bites on it.

“I’ll make you feel good sweetheart, I promise.” He smiles. He places a sweet peck on your cheek before he starts to trail them down your body.

Once he reaches your pants he tugs on them lightly before you whine out an agreement.

As soon as it’s off he starts to admire your half naked body in front of him. Matt perches between your thighs leaving a teasing peck on your clothed clit.

“Please” you sighs. You push yourself back on him. Matt chuckles at the movements. He pushes you down by your hips.

“Patience honey” he chuckles teasing you by kissing up your inner thighs. He was purposefully not stimulating the part you needed him the most.

“Matt please” you whine throwing your head back on the bed as you wait for Matt to do something, anything.

“Look at me baby.” He hums softly kissing up your inner thigh. He rubs your thighs slightly while you pick up your head to look back down at him.

You groan dramatically. “Matt”

The way Matt looks between your things like that only serves to make you even wetter.

He chuckles finally starting to pull your panties off gently. He slides them off and throws them across the room. Be careful not to put any pressure on you.

He smiles down at you. Matt sits up between your legs. “How about we take this off yeah?” He hums. His hands trails over your bra. You eagerly lean up to give him access to take your bra off.

He also threw that across the room.

You sigh, laying back down dramatically. Your chest moves at the impact of you laying back down.

Matt eyes lock on your chest

He smiles fondly. He takes one of your tits in his hand starting to fondle it gently.

“You’re so gorgeous, baby” he smiles leaning down for a moment to kiss you, and then trailing his kisses down your throat and between the valley of your breasts.

You let out a soft breath feeling his lips press against all these sensual places.

“Matt please. Come on” you whine dramatically laying flat on your back waiting for him to do something. Anything.

He chuckles, deciding to speed up the teasing. He places himself back between your thighs. Matt then pulls your leg over his shoulders.

“I wanna make this memorable for you.” He says. But before you can respond he licks a bold stripe up your pussy.

You gasp at the feeling. You close your eyes briefly and then look at him.

Before you can complain about the lack of contact, he leaves a kiss on your clit before starting to suck on it.

His groans were sending vibrations through you. he was sucking and swirling his tongue, lapping up your juices. He was eating you out like you were his last meal.

You were chanting his name like a prayer while he just kept vigorously eating you out. Your hands stay tangled in the messy waves, you gently tug on it.

Until without warning you felt his fingers plunge into your tight aching cunt. You feel him start to move them as you feel yourself get closer to the edge.

“Matt- im-“ you get cut off by a moan when Matt curls his fingers at just the right spot.

His eyes stay focused on you. He watches you with a sharp gaze. Watching the way you react.

His movements speed up even more. And before you can warn him you feel the knot in your stomach snap.

He continues to eat you out, lapping up your juices, until you calm down. He licks a final stripe up your pussy watching you shudder at the slight overstimulation.

You tug at his hair and he finally comes back up with his chin coated in your juices. He wipes his chin off with the back of his hand, grinning.

“You’re doing so well for me princess.” Matt smiles leaning down and pressing another sweet kiss to your forehead.

“Matt, please fuck me.” You breathe out. You’re tone begging.

You’ve known Matt all your life. He was your childhood best friend. The guy who you’ve been fake dating for years now. The guy who treated you like a princess, despite your relationship only being for show.

And yet all you wanted to do right now is be with him. Be as close to him as possible.

In hindsight. All of this was inevitable. You’ve always been a little too close, a little too touchy. You’ve always known too much about each other.

That was the reason why most of your, and his other relationships didn’t work out.

“ ‘Corse sweetheart.” He smiles, unbuckling his belt and swiftly removing his jeans.

His dick is big. And that’s not even exaggerated. it was bigger than you expected. But it somehow made sense for him.

The tip was the same rosy color he had on his blushing cheeks. It wasn’t too vainy just the perfect amount. You knew from the size that it’d mildly hurt.

You whine at the feeling of him sliding his cock through your soaked folds.

You feel Matt gently push in. You throw your head back at the feeling making sure to keep your eyes on him.

“Fuck you’re so big” you breathe out. Only his tip was in, but the girth was enough to have you drooling.

“I’ll take it slow, honey” he looks down at you fondly.

And all that fake dating, fake love thing you guys have been doing for years was starting to feel just a little too real.

Once he fully bottoms out he sighs. He doesn’t move for a little, letting you get used to the feeling.

“You can move” you mumble under your breath.

“Your wish is my command princess” he jokes slightly. Matt starts to thrust in and out of you. His pace is gentle and slow.

And with the way he is leaning over your body, keeping the eye contact, it seems so loving and sensual.

“Oh my god Matt-“ you throw your head back, your eyes closing.

Matt was just looking down at you all fond and loving. He looks at you like you’re the only woman in the world. The only woman whom he cares for.

“Fuck- I love you” you breathe out. Without even realizing what you were saying. You’ve said I love you to each other so many times. Yet all those times it was for show or meant platonically.

But this. This was not. You were in love with your best friend. The guy who you’ve been sort of fake dating for two years.

“Oh? do you?” Matt replies teasingly.

He leans down starting to kiss down your neck once again. And the feeling of that only makes you even more aroused. Your breath hitches when you realize what you’d just admitted.

Before you can panic though, Matt starts talking.

“I love you too”

He wasn’t slowing down. He didn’t seem phased by the confession. Like he knew, or was expecting it.

“Do you?” You breathe out.

Matt pulls back slightly. He looks down at you as you timidly open your eyes again. Your eyes lock on his once more. He stares at you with all the love and lust in his body.

“I should’ve told you earlier.” He admits. He lets out a slight laugh at the idea.

His eyes trail your body. Admiring every curve and feature you have.

“It’s okay.” Your eyes are half-lidded, watching him watch you. “Are you mine now? For real?”

“I’m all yours, princess”

And that sentence alone had you rolling your eyes into the back of your head. the way he was talking mixed with the sensual thrusts he was giving. It all felt so good.

It just felt so intimate and loving.

He leans down again his lips capturing yours.

You sloppily kiss back. His thrusts remain deep and sensual.

One of his hands moves to your breast again starting to fiddle with it, occasionally flicking the nipple.

He pulls away from the kiss. He changes hands giving just as much attention to your other breast.

“You wanna come for me baby?” His tone is light and teasing, but laced with so much lust and affection.

“Please”

He smiles pulling himself up. He yanks your legs over his shoulders, readjusting. He starts to harshly thrust into you.

The new angle making him hit deeper. He was hitting every spot in you, making you weak in your knees.

You whine and moan loudly, not bothering to keep quiet since no one is home. You chant his name like it’s the only thing you can think of- which it is.

His breath is sharp too, he lets out occasional groans which send tingles to your core.

He sounds so good.

Matt’s thumb finds its way to your clit starting to rub in it harshly.

“You’re squeezing me so tight honey.” He lets out a harsh breath.

You can only whine in response. The feeling of him drilling into your cunt is overwhelming. You feel like you couldn’t talk, even if you tried.

“You gonna come?” He huffs starting to pick up the pace, both with rubbing on your clit and fucking your cunt.

You feel the intense pressure of the knot, ready to snap in your stomach.

“Let go for me.”

As soon as the words leave his lips you feel yourself clench against him. your eyes close as you feel your orgasm wash over you.

He keeps thrusting into you, fucking you through your orgasm.

“Can I come in you?” Matt breaths out. And all you think to do is nod. You were on the pill, but Matt was gonna take the safe route and ask before he did it anyway.

As soon as you nod you hear his sharp breaths. His hips speed up. The sound of your lewd wetness and the sound of skin slapping is echoing loudly.

His hips start to stutter until he finally slows down.

He collapses on top of you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

Matt keeps himself inside of you. You feel the way your combined juices leak out of you. You feel the warmth and closure of his body.

He pulls back again. He looks down at you. “So does this count as our new actual anniversary or are we gonna use the fake one?” He says his tone is half joking.

He had that goofy, almost giddy smile on his face. And his smile was making you smile.

“I don’t know we can have both?” You suggest.

After a moment of just staring, admiring each other he pulls out slowly so as to not hurt you.

He stares down at your pussy for a second. Looking at the way it looks all filled with his seed.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” He smiles. He bites his lip when his eyes finally meet yours again.

“Can’t leave your pussy like this.” He teases, stealing another quick peck from your lips, making you smile.

Masterlist

(A/N: again sorry this is kinda ass, but I rlly like the concept 🫶🏼)

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolols

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inconveniently-discorporated · 10 months

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Today it's time for me to be heartbroken about Crowley and HIS version of events, because of course HIS version makes sense to him too.

The thing about Crowley is, he acts so nonchalant about everything.

Like, at first, he's simply just a demon. Sauntered vaguely downward and such, it's barely even really a thing, honestly -- it's just sort of his job title, y'know? Aziraphale's in one department, he's in another, that's just how it is. Like satanists, right?

But then the more the story progresses, the more we get the sense that there's something deeper than that. It becomes especially apparent with his plants, and how he puts the fear of God (then corrected by the narrator: the fear of Crowley) in them.

And these scenes, as many of you well know, have been theorized to be Crowley working through the circumstances of his fall. Projecting his emotions onto the plants, inflicting on them what was done to him. Processing what it was like to be on the other side of the curtain, maybe -- possibly try to figure out what could drive a creator to harm their own creations.

The details of the fall and what Crowley did, exactly, are unclear. The details of what Crowley knows about his own fall are unclear, because evidence could suggest that maybe he doesn't remember. But his perception seems to be that it didn't take much to be a demon.

What he does know, is that nothing lasts forever -- not even the grace of God.

But Aziraphale is different.

Aziraphale is an angel with very black-and-white ideas of what it means to be an angel, and what it means to be a demon.

But Crowley sees through it. From giving away the sword alone, he sees the cracks in Aziraphale's rigid thinking that allows the light to shine through. And he chips and he chips at that thinking -- he asks the kind of questions that probably made him fall in the first place -- until finally we get here.

God saw Crowley at his most innocent. God saw Crowley at his most joyful state of being. God saw him at his holiest.

God heard his questions, likely knowing that Crowley was expressing love in the way that he would want to receive it. Crowley says, "Well, if I was the one running it all, I would like it if someone asked questions. Fresh point of view."

God knew all of this, and then cast him out anyway. Unforgivable, that's what he is. Not to be forgiven, ever. Not to be loved -- not by God.

Then here comes along this angel (who he may or may not remember). This angel knows he's a demon, and talks to him anyway. This angel knows he's a demon, and listens to what he has to say. This angel knows he's a demon, and still looks him in the eye, sees the good in him, and forcefully tells him that HE still sees the good in him, even when God refuses to.

Aziraphale sees everything in Crowley that God could not, and that is something Crowley thought was lost forever.

So it only makes sense that when Aziraphale first burst in with his words all aflutter at the idea that they were going to go back to Heaven and change everything, Crowley felt this was something they couldn't do. Because he understands better than anyone, Heaven has the power to change the angel, the angel does not have the power to change Heaven.

It makes sense that Crowley gave him a chance. Crowley didn't exactly erupt with rage at Aziraphale. Yes, he was loudly against the idea and very disappointed, but then he goes, "Oh. Oh God. Right. Okay. I didn't get a chance to say what I was going to say, I better say it now."

He still thinks there's a chance. He's still giving Aziraphale a chance to back out.

He gives Aziraphale multiple chances. And every time Aziraphale will not back down. Every time, he thinks he hears the same message. The one he's always heard, the one he should know by now but somehow still hopes it isn't true.

Nothing lasts forever.

Not the universal star machine.

Not the grace of God.

Not the bookshop.

Not my acceptance of who you are.

Not us.

He doesn't hear the way Aziraphale remembers his joy and wants him to be happy. He doesn't hear how Aziraphale wants him and needs him and begs for him to be on his side. He doesn't hear the hope and the desire to be safe and together and in control -- forever.

He doesn't hear the way Aziraphale is lying to himself because we all know damn well he would live in a state of comfortable happiness if he could.

Instead, he hears this.

He hears that he is in need of forgiveness. He hears that he has done something to warrant it.

Only, he is unforgivable. Nothing lasts forever, but maybe that part does. Out of everything that never lasted, the one that did is that he is unforgivable the way that he is.

"Don't bother," he says.

Don't bother, because he doesn't hear Aziraphale, he hears God.

Don't bother, because maybe God was right.

#good omens #gos2spoilers #good omens meta #Crowley #the DEPTH of this scene #two characters speaking in entirely different planes of existence #two entirely different messages from opposite sides

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tiredmamaissy · 10 months

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Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Special Episode II

Concurrent Tides

An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff. Most illustrations are now on her patreon.

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19) Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, profanity, age gap, aggressive rut cycle, heat cycle, dom/sub dynamics, jealousy/posessiveness, knotting, marking, scenting, praise kink, breeding kink, size difference, p in v, mating/bonding, multiple climaxes, creampie, ralak is a bit of a meanie in this, let me know if I forgot anything? Word Count: 10k Requested: Yes || No Author’s Note: the second special episode is finally here. sorry it took forever to get it out, but better late than never :') i hope you guys enjoy <3 theres another part to come after this one! 🤍 Synopsis: what happens if you and your new mates cycles sync?

<- Previous Next ->

——

“Only I knot you.”

That was the first time you’d ever seen Ralaks eyes shift in colour. That same night right after he pulled you out of his memory of his first rut. A beautiful, deep blue, glistening before your honey glazed orbs. It’s barely been a week since that night, yet it replays over and over. Day and night. How he looked at you with nothing but unadulterated greed, hardly catching his breath as he tried to steady his galloping heart. It was something deep-rooted and primal.

Something animalistic.

Since, you’ve longed to see him fully immersed in such a state. A state where self control and sexual desire no longer coexist. He’s always too concerned with you and what he thinks you can and cannot manage that he never allows himself to do what he truly wants. The level of restraint you feel through the bond is indescribable. A level you nor any other na’vi could conceivably attain. Regardless, most nights you find yourself fantasizing about this ‘lack of control’ right before bed.

Nights like tonight.

Where the stars shimmer so brightly that you need to draw the curtains, and the air is exceptionally cold and crisp that you need to huddle closely together for warmth. When your nose is buried so deep into his chest that there's no other choice for his scent to fill your lungs. And tonight he smells extraordinarily good. The salt of the sea mixed with leather hide. And oddly enough, he smells like… home. The forest and its greenery. It’s quite ironic but perhaps it’s Eywa’s way of saying that this man is truly yours. It's so comforting and right. Like a cup of hot tea on a stormy night, never failing to put you to sleep. A remedy that works in seconds — but not tonight.

Tonight you’re restless and he can sense it.

“What is it?” Ralak husks, shifting his position to hold you a little closer. “Cold?”

Truthfully, you’ve been feeling a little off. Your body has been restless and haunted. As if it could sense some sort of change of shift in the atmosphere. Or perhaps it was between the two of you. “No.” You mumble, lifting your head to look up at him. “Just can’t sleep.”

Ralaks ears twitch, a little surprised his typical soothing techniques aren’t working. He sits up quite quickly, bringing you up with him as he scoots back into frame of his bed. His brows lower when he ponders about what could be keeping you so on edge. He takes note of your flushed appearance and the minute changes in your eyes, they’re glowing a little brighter recently.

His brows jump when the realisation dawns on him.

Could it be? He knows it’s close but is it really already affecting you? How is that possible? And does that mean it will be even more severe this time around?

He had every intention to stay but perhaps it’ll be more difficult than he expected. He should really tell you, but he knows exactly how that would play out. You would get your way as per usual, it was hard for him to deny you of anything you wanted. A quick swish of your tail and it was yours. Ralak took pride in caring and providing for you. But not for this. This was just plain dangerous. And therefore he couldn’t allow you to figure it out. It’s ultimately safer that he keeps it to himself, at least until you’ve adjusted to him a little more. Your intimate moments together are very few in number after all.

“Why is that, tanhì?” He asks in a low, steady tone, fixing his mask of indifference tightly to his face.

You may be a slow learner, but you weren’t slow. You could sense that he wasn’t being all that transparent with you.

“I don’t know. Something feels off about you.” You say in an almost accusatory tone, finally sitting up to look him in the eye. He’s pale in the face and his breath becomes raggedy. “Tell me, Ralak.”

You watch as his pupils constrict, leaving nothing but a black dot in an open sea of blue. Within a matter of seconds, they deepen in colour and his eyelids flutter shut. He clears his throat, and waits a few seconds to open his eyes. They’re back to normal but you could’ve sworn they looked different. Just like they did a few nights ago.

“What just happened to your—” Your heart begins to race as you utter the words, only to be cut off by Ralaks hasty voice.

“Inland. Tomorrow morning. Overnight hunting trip.” He grinds them out as if it physically hurts to say the words. Anything to keep you from figuring it out.

What? Is he — lying to you?

This isn’t like him. He avoided trips inland at all costs. Anything to stay with his tanhí. He’d even go as far as faking an illness, despite rarely getting ill, to get out of accompanying Tonowari. Especially for overnight trips.

“And why did you not tell me earlier?” You manage to squeak out a closing throat, backing away to create a little distance.

He shakes his head as he blinks rapidly, staying put to allow as much space as you need. “I was hoping I did not need to go.” He utters, dropping his head to lock his gaze on your twiddling thumbs. His eyes trail up your dark blue frame, taking note of how your body is already almost trembling —already responding to him— all out of your control. He bows his head, hiding his face. “But it seems that I cannot get out of this one. I am sorry, my paysyul.”

For a fleeting moment, you really thought this was the beginning of something bad. Something deceitful. But, his words instantly bring you comfort, slowing your leaping heart and putting your mind at ease.

But the funny thing is that there was no lie.

There was really an overnight trip inland with Tonowari. One that Ralak arranged himself. Tonowari was especially taken aback by Ralaks suggestion of a hunting trip and immediately queried if he was alright, putting a firm hand on his forehead to determine if he had some sort of fever. But once Ralak explained himself, Tonowari was smiling and laughing, smacking a few blows on his back as a form of approval, teasing him yet again about ‘the love story between an Akula and an ilu’.

Your sigh brings Ralak out of his deep thought, chin leaving his chest to witness you sliding back into bed, turning on your side and backing up onto him. A smirk pulls at the his lips as he joins you, enveloping you in his warmth once more. A wave of relief washes over him as he rests his chin on the crown of your head. He’s thankful that you didn’t press any further. Otherwise, he would’ve had to reveal his best kept secret.

His upcoming rut.

——

The harsh thump of Ralaks heart rouses him to the sight of his mate clung to his chest. He admires your beauty, allowing his eyes to fall on your chest, watching closely as you breathe slowly. He gently pulls back the thin sheeting covering your body, exposing your puffy nipples to the cool morning air. When they stiffen into peaks, saliva pools in his mouth. At this point he would have looked away because of basic na’vi decency, but this morning is different.

He allows himself to stare. To take in every detail on your chest. To sear it into his memory so he can visualise you just like this as he relieves himself. Exposed before his eyes, supple skin glistening as the rays of sunlight reflect against your freckles, exposed, stiffened nipples, that act as the perfect bait to lure in a hungry predator.

Predator.

That’s what he’ll be in a matter of minutes. Nothing but a slave to his own urges and instincts. Ravenous. Insatiable. Voracious. With not even a sliver of self composure left to hold onto an ounce of rationality. He can already feel it creeping up on him, the hunger deep in his core turning him into the beast that he appears to be on the outside. It’s always been like this. A little too much. Too overwhelming.

Too aggressive.

And as the years passed it only worsened. Six unmated years. With no one but himself to make it through the tortuous few days. He just knows that he would be too rough with you. It’s his biggest fear, after all. To have no self control. To hurt the one thing he loves more than Eywa’s gift of life itself. He would sacrifice his own (life) if it meant to save yours.

He was hoping to endure it. Bite his tongue through it and be by your side. Perhaps take a long bath in the lake and crawl into bed after you’ve gone to sleep and relieve himself as quietly as he can. But now that it’s here in full bloom, he’s already having a hard time containing his urge to spread your legs and use you as his own personal fucktoy.

But you’re more than that to him.

And this is why he’s choosing to leave before you wake. Before he can no longer contain himself to just staring at your bare chest. Before he pulls the sheet down even further and parts your legs—already trembling from his leaking pheromones—and has a taste of his sweet, sweet tanhí. Rather, he uses his last shred of self composure to plant a firm kiss on your forehead before quickly gathering his gear and heading out the door.

Unbeknownst to him, you were awake the entire time.

You could feel his eyes bore into your tiny frame as the crisp morning air grazed past your nipples, just like you could feel the roughness of his kiss right above your brow. You wanted to open your eyes but the way his pheromones waft up your nose had you in a foggy trance. Your eyes burned under your eyelids and your body felt so heavy and hot.

You couldn’t help but think, is this his rut?

To be influenced by his cycle? You had felt it before. His first rut in the flashback, but it was nothing like this. Sure, it had you shivering and a little on edge but this was to another level. You could barely open your eyes, much less get out of bed. This entire time your body has been sending warning signals that its mate was peaking in his cycle — restlessness, clinginess, the nesting. You had unknowingly gathered enough fruits and grains to last you a few days. Even in this murky state of mind you finally manage to link the pieces of the puzzle together.

Listening to his footsteps as he walks out the marui, you muster up as much strength as you can to open your eyes. It’s blurry and honestly all just one blob. You could only make out a few colours trailing behind this gentle giant—green, blue and orange. All of which mix together and move like the aurora in the night sky. If one could see what a pheromone looks like, this would be it. When you finally get enough strength to part your chapped lips to mutter his name, the colours disappear as the marui flap closes behind him.

You really thought that once he left and the room aired out, that the influence of his pheromones on your body would lift as well. But you were wrong. Instead, the heaviness of your body grew tenfold, making it hard to breathe. It’s as if your lungs were filled to the brim with cold water, yet they burned as you squirmed around to fill them with air. The fire in your lungs quickly spread to your extremities, leaving your entire being in a sweltering inferno.

This feeling is familiar, yet foreign all at once. A desire so extreme it burns from within. The desire to be connected with your mate on all levels known to the na’vi. To satiate the itch of your empty, fertile womb by filling it with his seed.

Why did you have to get your heat now?

You call for Ralak a few times in your dazed state, only for you to be reminded by nothing but the crash of the waves that he’s gone. Soon the heavy rumble of the waves is drowned out by your whimpers and whines as you call for your mate to no avail. All you can manage to do in your feverish haze is kick off whatever cloth is stuck to your body, curl into a ball and rock to ease the unbearable sensation between your legs.

All until you hear a familiar, husky voice.

“I was doing some sessions with Ronal and—”

“R-Ralak?” You call out in relief, hoping your prayers have finally been answered. You roll onto your side and squint at the figure in the door frame.

“Uh. Not quite.” He quickly mutters under his breath, moving his forearm to shield his nose from your strong pheromones wafting his way. “Eywa—” He mumbles the great mothers name like a curse as he looks around the marui for your mate. “Where is Tak?”

Tak?

The more you squint your eyes, the more you’re able to make out who this figure standing in your doorway is. Your blurred vision clears just enough to reveal the unforgettable, brawny features of no other than Ka’ani.

“Ka’ani?” You say the name slowly, unsure if you should believe your eyes.

“Hah. What do you know…” Ka’ani scoffs, moving his arm from his face to lean in to get a better look at your condition. You’re panting yet shivering, glazed in your own sweat and slick. He smirks a little as he pulls back, spitting out the words, “…bitch in heat.”

“What are you... d-doing here? You should leave!” You try to shout, although it comes out more as a hoarse cry.

“Why should I? It looks like you need a hand.” Ka’ani jesters, physically extending his hand towards you as he wiggles his thickset fingers.

“Haa. I really don’t.” You pant, hugging your knees to your chest even tighter.

“You’re sitting in a puddle of your own sweat.” Ka’ani’s voice is harsh, yet laced with concern. “And whatever else is coming out of you.” His jaw clenches and unclenches as he looks away from you, seemingly out of — respect? He catches sight of the full bucket of fresh water at your bedside, along with empty drinking bowls.

Has she not been tended to all day? Not a sip to drink? Ka’ani thinks to himself, concerned as to why Tak’s mate would be alone, uncared for and in heat of all things.

You finally muster up the energy to tug the sodden sheet over your naked body and scoot back further to the frame of the bed. “Ralak said he will be back soon. You should leave if y-you want to live.” You lie, feeling a little threatened that a male na’vi has barged into your marui while you’re in heat.

“Yeah, I don’t believe that for a second, y/n. None of this makes sense.” Ka’ani speaks, taking a few steps towards you.

You shuffle even further back only for your back to make contact with the bed frame. A rush of fear surges through you. The type of fear that has your heart twisting behind your ribs. You cross your legs over one another, bunching up the sheet between them and beg with trembling lungs, “P-Please, Ka’ani. Don’t.”

Ka’ani stops dead in his tracks, seemingly offended by your assumption that he’d be approaching you to do something that the great mother herself would look down upon. Sure, he tracked your scent last time, but he was here atone exactly for that.

“Syor [relax]. I would never do such a thing.” He says through gritted teeth, storming towards the bedside and quickly pouring you a drink. “No matter how strong your scent is. Although, you don’t smell all that great now that you’re mated.” He chuckles lightly as he hands you the drink. Your eyes jump between him and the cup in his hand before you struggle to sit up. His hand instinctively reaches out to assist you, but you bat it away and continue to pull yourself up.

“Just — let me help you.” He snaps, supporting your back when you finally give in. “Drink.” He commands, plunking the cup in your hand, taking a step back and crossing his arms.

You gulp down the water greedily, finally quenching your thirst and hoping it will provide some level of relief to your febrile condition. You hum to yourself as the water makes its way down your throat, but groan when you feel no better. Meanwhile, Ka’ani takes in your state, feeling a twinge in his heart for you when he sees how you’ve been suffering. You look more than uncomfortable. You look like you’re in pain.

“You’ll be alright, y/n. Just tell me where he went and I’ll go fetch him.” He speaks in a more gentle tone, taking the empty cup from your hand.

“I-I don’t — haah. He said he went… He went inland to hunt.” You blubber out, feeling your body heat to a dangerous degree. It has you shaking as you ease yourself back into a more comfortable position.

Ka’ani shakes his head a bit, “Inland to hunt? Really? When his mate is in heat? Tak would never. The only time he’d ever do that is if he is also… in rut.” Ka’ani stalls on the last few words that slip off his tongue, tasting them in his mouth as the realization sets in. Ka’ani quickly fills the cup, sets it next to you and bolts to the door. Before he ducks under the flap of your Marui, he looks over his shoulder and reassures you.

“Sit tight, forest girl. I know exactly where he is.”

— —

It’s been a few hours since coming to his usual spot — the waterfall with the coldest water known to the reef people. It is Ralaks most private and intimate place aside from his humble abode. A place where only a select few people know about. He’s most drawn to the low temperature of the water, making it a perfect environment to endure the heat of his rut in.

Despite doing this for the past few years, each cycle gets a little more intense. And this one is certainly no exception.

Ralak sits underneath the overhang, right in the dip of the plunge pool, and allows the water to beat on his back. He’s maintained this position for the past few hours, only releasing himself when the pressure in his core grows too much. A pressure so immense it would have his body acting on its own accord — a wandering hand finding its way to his swollen cock.

Truth be told, he hated the feeling.

He hated feeling so out of control. To be nothing but a slave to his own primal impulses. He’d fight it as much as he could, just like he is now, until the sensation is just too intense to ignore. Until he’s grunting and squirming with a body so heated it has him grinding his teeth.

He quickly stands up, tilting his head back and covering his face from the stream of the water with his hands. At this point his cock is so swollen that it’s outright painful, throbbing and pulsing from the lack of attention. He thinks of you — your thin tail and tiny stature. The way you lay in bed this morning before he left. Naked and exposed before his eyes. Eywa, how he wishes you were here. How he could finally spend his rut with his mate, but he just knows it would be too much for you to handle.

The thoughts of you make this no easier, sending his hips thrusting into the air — the running water stimulating his thudding cockhead. He groans from the immense pleasure a little water brings him. He’s neglected himself so badly to the point that he feels like this could really make him cum. But how many times has he cum by now?

Once? Twice? Thrice?

He lost count after the fifth time, not that he was keeping track anyways. If anything he was downright denying himself the pleasure, and convincing himself that he remained in control. But fuck, the image of your delicate body —the possibility that he could break you if he weren’t careful— pushes him over the edge. Before he can stop himself, his hot cum is spilling from his slit all over the length of his cock and he’s unable to keep his noises at a minimum.

“Mmmph.” His deep growl rumbles, a hand grabbing a firm hold of his jumping cock.

He squeezes what’s left out of his slit, finally looking down to see the state of himself. It’s red and raw — spikes fully erect and balls drawn so close to his body they’re practically hiding behind his thick knot. He lets out a loud sigh.

Relief.

Finally, he leans back against the rocky wall and slides down into the plunge pool, immersing himself chest deep into the water. He lightly treads back to the bank and makes himself comfortable — allowing his head to rest and body to relax. He takes a few deep breaths and tunes into the burble of the waterfall.

All until he hears the click of a —

Ka’ani?

“Tik-Tak.” Ka’ani clicks melodically, cautiously approaching the giant submerged in the waterfall. Ralak doesn’t budge. He remains fixed in position, eyes shut, head and elbows resting on the edge of the river. His chest heaves harshly as he attempts to remain in this less than tranquil state. “Never thought I’d see the day Ralak leaves his mate in heat. To be soaking in a waterfall of all things.”

Perhaps Ralak heard wrong. Leaving his mate in heat? Ralak would know if his mate were in heat. He would sense it. Whatever rubbish he’s spewing out, Ralak doesn’t have the time, nor patience, for it.

“Skxawng, what are you on about? Leave me be.” Ralak huffs, wiping the sweat from his face with a quick hand movement.

“Just as I thought. You’re all hot and bothered too, aren’t you?” Ka’ani chuckles.

“Leave.” Ralak says angrily, his purplish-blue eyes finally snapping up to meet Ka’ani’s. “I have just calmed.”

Ka’ani’s brows knit together, offended and a little confused with himself for being upset from the way Ralak is shooing him away.

“Oh c’mon brother. All I’ve been told today is to leave!” Ka’ani’s hands fly up as he takes a step forward. “First your mate, and now you. Am I really that unwanted?”

Now he’s got Ralaks attention.

Ralak gets a whiff of your sweet, sweet pheromones on him. As if he’s been around his tanhì. Scenting his tanhì. Touching his tanhì. His primal urges devour him once more, eating away at him until nothing but a possessive beast remains. One of pure territorial instinct.

“What did you do?” Ralak growls through a clenched jaw as he jumps out the water and approaches Ka’ani. “Scenting my mate again?” His voice booms as it increases in volume, yet lowers in depth. “Answer me. Did you touch her?!”

“No!” Ka’ani blurts out, now taking a few steps back with his hands splayed out in front of him. “Is that what you both really think of me? This is the last I ever do some—”

Ralak remains silent, taking quick, calculated strides directly towards Ka’ani, who is now backing up into a tree. Once his back hits the scaly bark, Ralaks' balled fist slams into the trunk, barely an inch away from Ka’ani’s skull.

“Alright! Alright. I know what I did before. I-I’m sorry. I came looking for you to apologise for that but I found her in heat. Okay? I came here as soon as I realized.”

Unsure of whether or not to believe a word coming from this skxawng’s mouth, Ralak steps away from his prey, bloody knuckled and full of uncertainty. But the one thing he is certain about is the fact that he wants no other na’vi to find you if you really are in heat. With a huff of defeat, he pushes past Ka’ani and bolts for the shore.

——

The trek back to the marui is twice as quick. Your pheromones are thick and potent, affecting him even a few feet away from the marui door. And when he steps through the marui door, he’s completely inundated with the thick fog of your pheromones. He feels lost in himself, struggling not to succumb to his instincts. Struggling to regain control.

“Ma’ L-Lak?” You mewl shakily.

You can smell him, just like he can smell you. It only drives you further into your heat, your trembling body now shaking a little more. Sensing that your mate is in close proximity, your scent glands release more of your aphrodisiac to lure him in. In turn, this has its effects on your body — sending you into a submissive state where you feel too heavy to even lift a finger. You lay there, legs splayed out and glossy fingered.

You watch through blurred vision as the tall and thick silhouette quickly makes its way towards you. Ralak grabs and firmly holds your legs back as he leans in close, making the confirmation that his mate is indeed in heat. He lingers a little longer than he can control, taking everything in him to pull away and calm down — panting and out of breath.

“It is true.” He huffs, towering over your tiny, shivering frame. “In heat.” The two words drip off his tongue, much like the thick nectar dripping from your slit.

“Lak. Oh — lak. ’ts you.” You cry out in relief, clawing at his thigh to bring him back to you, “‘m so happy it’s you ‘nd not someone else.” His teeth grit as your hand grazes his thigh, but he remains fixed in place, unsure of his ability to keep his composure if he allows himself to give in to your touches.

What is he supposed to do now?

He didn’t think this far into his plan… for once in his life. Typically he’s quite calculated and certain of his next move but now — now he’s not sure how he’s going to deal with this. He just knew that he couldn’t leave you alone. Not for another man to find and claim you in the way that only he should. But he has to remain himself. For you. He swallows down his uncertainty before speaking.

“I should have stayed.” He looks down at the flushed, puffy flesh between your legs with a rapacious glint in his eye. “I am sorry.”

“Don’t be. Just p-please. It’s to-o much. T-Too hot. It aches, karyu.” Ralak winces when you groan the last few words, it’s almost painful to resist you at this point. You go to claw at this thigh once more, only for him to shift away. “No, don’t do that. Not right now. N-Need you so ba—”

“My rut came. This morning.” He’s quick to cut you off with a strained, yet monotonous voice, unable to peel his eyes away from your swollen cunt.

“I-I know.” You pant, earning a twitch of Ralaks brows. “‘nd t-that’s good. Ngh—that’s really good, I-I can help you too.” You mumble, sticking your hand between your legs to fondle with yourself. With the way he grimaces one side of his face, it seems as if he wants to look away, but can’t.

“No, tanhì. We spoke of this.” His accent is thick as he struggles to string the words together, “No control. Trying hard…” he inhales quickly, eyes plastered to the sight in front of him, “…not to lose it.”

At this point the haze of your heat has you lethargically shaking your head from side to side, mumbling whatever frustrated-fueled words that first come to you “…haven’t cum yet…”, you squirm around to find a position that allows your wandering fingers better access to your hole, “…need to cum.” You slur the words as you barely slip two fingers inside you and you quietly sob when they provide very little release.

“Ralak!” You cry loudly enough to at last lure his gaze up to yours, the night sea finally meeting the roaring flame. Your voice quiets down into a soft whimper, “Please. Just t-try. Please.”

A moment of silence passes where you and Ralak stare at one another, hearts pounding and chests heaving, understanding exactly how the other feels. The burning desire to come together. The resistance, yet the lack of control. The eternal flame within. The heat.

Ralak breaks eye contact to glance at your slender fingers working as hard as they can. He breathes a heavy sigh, feeling a pang of guilt for leaving you when he sees just how raw you are from being in heat all alone. He’s responsible for you even being in this bad of a state, isn’t he? Leaving you before sunrise with nothing but a kiss on the head. If anything that only made it more intense for you. He wants to — no, needs to care for you. It’s what every part of himself is urging him to do.

“The thought of another finding you… like this.” Ralak rasps as he closes in on you, “so vulnerable… it makes me — haah.” He cuts himself off with a shaky sigh and a clench to his jaw. Beads of sweat ball on his temples, slowly rolling down his angular jaw to eventually meet and drip from his chin onto your stomach. He looms over you, his hair flowing forward when he suddenly grabs and tugs at your wrist in one swift move, yanking your fingers out of you.

“Ss-ah!” You hiss with a wince, heart skipping a beat when you realise that he’s barely there anymore. “I-It makes you, what?” You ask quietly — nervously, even.

A bestial growl begins to rumble in his chest, causing a shiver to ripple through you—hardening your nipples into peaks within seconds. Jawbone fluttering from his reluctance to answer, he harshly cups your pussy with his hand, causing you to gasp. His sharp, intimidating stare locks with yours, brows tensing as he allows two, thickset fingers to slip down to your slickened opening. His growl fades into a single, drawn out word.

“Nìfmokx. [jealous]”

His admission slips past his lips just as his fingers sink into your aching core, leaving your mouth agape and hot tears spilling over your cheeks. Jealousy isn’t an emotion Ralak is used to feeling. Much less something he would subject you to experience with him. But you could see the raw emotion in his eyes, as they flicker from a dark blue to something even deeper. It’s the way his stare bores into your innermost being as he fills you up with his digits alone, telling you that you were his, and his only.

He hooks his fingers right into your gummy walls, holding his position as he moves his hand in an up and down motion at full tilt. The tips of his fingers repeatedly slam into your swelling sweet spot, coaxing out broken, filthy noises from your throat. He hums with pride, yet his face remains stone cold, minus the occasional twitch of his jawbone. He’s trying so hard to keep at a steady pace, and not to be too rough with your fragility.

“Oh f-fuck.” You curse under your breath, both hands grabbing a firm hold of his forearm. You’ve been unintentionally edging yourself all day that you’re already almost there. And no matter how hard you squeeze and claw at his now-veiny arm, he remains unmoving.

“Go on, then.” He huffs impatiently as he looks down at you, feeling your walls clamp down on his fingers. Your heels sink into the bed when you push your hips into the air, fingernails digging into his skin as you near your first release. You begin to whimper, bucking your hips to chase the feeling of relief. It’s right there. It’s so close; and you just need to allow it to wash through you. You tense up so badly your whole body shakes, sending your teeth chattering and your bottom lip quivering. You swear you can see the stars from the night sky litter your vision and feel your heavy lids flutter shut.

“Look at me.” Ralak demands in a sharp, gruff tone. Your glossy eyes shoot back up to his, and you start to sputter out whatever gibberish comes from your mouth — a few curses mixed with his name and your fathers’ mother-tongue. He continues to glare down at you with a rigid face, tensing his jaw as he wills himself to be gentle and patient with you. “Good. Now cum, little one.”

Your pathetic noises suddenly fade into a sweet, little cry. A cry of relief when your frustration washes away as you finally come undone on his fingers. The alleviation is so intense that it’s almost consuming; “T-Thank—” you collapse back down onto the bed, “—you. Thank you—haah, thank you karyu.” You pant repeatedly, his forearm ripping from your grip when he unexpectedly wrenches his fingers out of you. You squirm from the sudden emptiness, “Wait—”

“Do not thank.” He spits the accented words as he stumbles back to create some distance between the two of you. He pants as he attempts to recollect himself, his face of stone finally screwing into something of a grimace. “So…if another na’vi found you, would you thank him too? Hm?”

“Lak. I… N-No.” You stutter, unsure of what to even say.

“You are mine. My mate…” he growls through thinned lips, “My duty. Understand?”

“Yes.” You nod quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up. It arouses you to see him so jealous. So possessive. So assertive.

Ralak slams his eyes shut and gulps so hard it’s audible —visible even. You could see the bump in the column of his throat quickly undulate, his chest heaving harshly and his shoulders dramatically rising and falling with each breath he struggles to take. And for a while, there’s nothing but silence and his heavy breathing that you feel the overwhelming need to break it.

“Ralak.”

Your trembling, tiny voice snapping his head back up to you, once tightly closed eyes now flying open to reveal the most beautiful shade of mauve. They pierce into you like a spear through an unsuspecting prey, full of nothing but pure, unadulterated greed.

You never thought you’d see them again except in that vision. You get lost in them for a little, studying how the gold ring around his blown pupils still remains even in a sea of indigo.

You sense that he’s in the thick of his rut now and you need to relieve him soon, like he did for you. Or only Eywa knows what will happen. You allow yourself to finally take in the man before you in full, eyes trailing down his sweaty, muscular physique — perfectly carved v-lines and six fingered tattoo — until they land on his aching cock.

Oh, fuck. Is he bigger? You think, admiring his mushroomy head and erect spikes. It’s oozing and dripping, unable to keep still from how hard it’s pulsing. It’s at least an inch bigger than usual.

You look away to study his facial expression and by the way he’s looking at you, you can tell he’s waiting for your command, trying his hardest to prevent himself from pouncing on you and fucking you senseless right here and now. You’ve never seen him this way before. Straining so hard to keep himself in one position and struggling to keep his hands to himself.

“Ralak… More.” You spread your legs as wide as they can go, holding them apart by the bend of your knees, exposing yourself completely. His heavy lidded eyes widen almost as much as your legs, pointed ears flicking upwards in excitement when he sees you assume such a vulnerable and submissive position.

“Y/n.” He groans, voice thick with arousal and want and maybe a little desperation as he takes in the sweet sight of your still-pulsing and swollen clit poking out between your folds. “I am… losing control.”

Hearing your name fall from his lips in this way — this tone, instantaneously reignites the flame in your core. In seconds your slit is practically dripping, forming a pool of your slick underneath you. “Good.” You pant as you stare up into his slit-like pupils. You swallow quickly before mustering up the courage to invite the beast in. “Now…remind me who I belong to.”

How could he resist now?

With the way you’re talking and your pheromones so pungent that they fill his lungs to the brim with no space for any other option but to fall into the thick of his rut. Before you can formulate another thought in your foggy state, Ralak has your legs pinned back and is diving nose first into your cunt.

He wastes no time to have his fill of you, lapping up your juices so desperately your body moves from the force of his licks. He has been wanting to taste you ever since you made a mess on his fingers, fuck — ever since he got a whiff of your scent from outside his marui door, but denied himself the pleasure in the case he couldn’t stop himself from going any further. But now, all restraint and denial is now left out at that very door.

The flat of his tongue trails up your inner thigh and then back to your folds, tasting a mixture of the sweetness of your slick and the saltiness of your sweat. He groans when his tongue finally grazes past your clit, feeling it throb against his taste buds. He lingers there for a while, swirling and sucking on you until he unlatches to come up for a quick breath of air.

“Fucking ftxìlor [delicious].” He gasps out a curse, shoving your legs even further back to have seconds of his meal.

It becomes evident that he’s doing this for himself. Because if he were doing this solely for you, he would have made you cum by now. He’s eating you out as if he’s been starved for weeks, sucking and popping off your clit just to lap up the sweet, sticky nectar seeping from your hole just to coat his tongue.

He’s nowhere near as quiet as he usually is, grunting and groaning as he swallows your juices. His fingernails dig into your thighs as he tries to keep himself from being too rough with your tiny, dainty body. But, his attempts prove to be futile once you feel your hips lift off the ground from his grip tightening around your thighs. You stare at the sight of your mate between your legs, crinkling his forehead and squeezing his eyes shut as he can’t stop himself from indulging in his urges.

“Fuck me!” You let out a frustrated moan, your heat having you so on edge you need to cum again.

His eyes fly open, and within moments he’s tucked under your hips, pelvises flush together as he rests his throbbing, neglected cock between your folds. His tip touches your belly button with ease, beads of precum oozing out of his slit one after the next.

“This is what you want, yes?” He bucks his hips into you, the tip of his cock smearing his slick all over your deep blue skin.

“Fuck, yes.” You whisper shakily, chin meeting your chest to look at the masterpiece he’s painting on you. “I want my mates cock.”

He only responds with a rough growl, flipping you over and pushing you onto your stomach.

“Oh shit.” You mutter under your breath, a little afraid of what you’ve gotten yourself into. But you trust Ralak.

You know that even in rut he would never hurt you. Not intentionally, at least. Of course this is not to say that he would be gentle —you expect that anything but.

With a firm hand to your upper back, his body is pressed against yours and his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck. He breathes in deeply through his nose, holding it in his lungs, and then letting out a hot, shaky breath against your skin, finally allowing himself to really take in your scent.

He almost becomes drunk off it— at least it feels that way for him. Your scent has him feeling like he’s downed two full bottles of fermented fruit with no chasers in between and he simply can’t get enough of it.

Hand moving swiftly from your back to your head, he pins your face to the bed as he trails his tongue along your jawbone to the nape of your neck. He lingers a little longer than he can help, suckling on and grazing his pointed canines against the skin. It sends shivers down your spine until your tail curls into the air and back arches in complete submission. You push back into him, feeling his hardened length pressed between the swell of your ass and base of your tail.

Fuck, you just want it inside you already.

“Lifting your tail for me, hm?” He huffs, puckering his lips against your skin and suckling tenderly. You can feel the emptiness creep back in, and that maddening itch deep in your womb. You moan softly, like a low hum under your breath, which only riles him up more. He feels like he wants to make you his all over again.

To mate with you.

To mark you as his in every way so that no other man would even dare look your way. Without warning, Ralak pushes up off you, his sinewy arms caging you in with one hand binding your wrists and the other keeping your head pinned to the bed. His legs hold yours down, his knees locking your ankles in place.

“You belong to me.” He growls next to your ear, his hand abruptly leaving your head to reach for the base of his skull for his kuru. With a quick tug, he brings it over his shoulder and pops it into his mouth to hold with his teeth. He reaches for your kuru that lies innocently in the dip of your back, and brings it towards his mouth.

A wave of anxiety washes over you when the image of Ka’ani finding you earlier in your own mess flashes before you. You can’t help but wonder if he would see that if he made tsaheylu right now. Imagine how he’d react when he realizes Ka’ani saw you naked and covered in slick? Your body squirmed at the mere thought, only making Ralak tighten his grip on you.

“Wait!” Is all you could blubber out before you feel the connection —the bond. Your eyes bulge when you feel him surge through you, two minds becoming one. It takes you by surprise, he’s never one to hastily or unexpectedly make tsaheylu with you. But tonight he makes the bond as if you were a tsurak to be tamed.

What he sees next drives him further into his territorial urges — your interaction with Ka’ani. The way Ka’ani barged into his home. How he saw your naked, vulnerable body. The fear that you felt when another man invaded your space. When he helped you. Innocently touched you.

“He touched you.” He says between pants, a mixture of emotions washing over him all at once. But the sharp pang of your heat transferring through tsaheylu has him entirely succumbing to his own urges and carnal instincts.

He’s simply not there.

His hips start bucking uncontrollably and his cock is poking and prodding at your puffy folds. The crown of his cock jabs at your clit a few times before finally parting your folds and with a quick snap of his hips he’s probing your entrance.

It stings when his swollen cockhead breaks past the resistance of your tightness, and he can’t help but lay hold of your hip and hiss from how tiny you feel. This is the first he’s ever had his cock stuffed inside a pussy during his rut. The feeling is all-consuming and he unapologetically yearns for more.

Hips snapping back, he pops his cockhead out of you only to shove it back in again. And again. And again until he’s repeatedly using your tight, little hole as nothing more than a fucktoy for his own self pleasure.

He leans back to take in the hazy sight, admiring the way your hole stretches perfectly to accommodate the sheer thickness of his cock. And when he sees the mushroomy part of his head slowly emerge he can’t help the way his hips stutter just to sink it back inside you.

It’s torturous, not having all of him inside you when that’s what your body is pining for most. He’s so much bigger than normal and you know that this is an itch that only he can scratch. “God—” You whine the foreign word, “—just fuck me already!”

“Agh. Quiet.” He lets out an irritated grunt, both hands flying to your hips to shove you down onto his cock — a loud, audible smack permeating the air when your sticky pelvises collide.

It almost overpowers the hoarse yet piercing cry that escapes your quivering lips. You’re so tender that the sudden stretch is too intense and with no time to adjust to his size you find yourself shuddering like you did after he took your innocence —your virginity.

His head dips back in ecstasy just when his tip kisses your cervix, his eyes screwed shut as he tries not to spray his seed inside your womb right now. His fingers sink into your skin, surely leaving bruises behind that will last for weeks.

“Hngh — woman.” He groans longingly, dropping his head forward and opening his ineberated eyes to witness how your cunt is sucking in every single inch of his cock with glee.

He grinds himself inside you, tugging at your hips and pushing against the resistance as if he were trying to stuff more of his cock inside you. Your high-pitched shrill fades out into a pathetic little whimper, your wobbly elbows and knees struggling to keep you up.

It’s all too much and your fucked out mind goes blank. You can’t even process how your body is submitting to its owner and his rough touches, opening itself up to be bred already. You sense what’s coming next. Your back bows, elbows and knees burying into the softness of the bed as you try to ground yourself for Ralak to use you for his own relief.

He does exactly that— hunching over you and shuffling his knees closer so he can gain more leverage to fuck into your slippery cunt. He puts all his weight on you, his fingernails almost piercing your skin when he begins rutting into you like his life depends on it.

He sets a merciless pace right off the bat, pounding into you as if he were angry with you. He huffs and puffs from trying to catch his breath but fails because he can’t stop himself from humping at you. His body won’t let him, not until he’s ensured you're full with his seed and will bear his child.

Hands quickly leaving your hips, he grabs your wrists, binding them together once more and the other grips your kuru and yanks it back. Your neck is exposed and your mouth hangs agape as you’re given no other choice but to take the jackhammering of your life. He’s never fucked you so hard or fast and perhaps it’s the haze of your heat but you just want more of him.

“F-Fuck. FuckFuckFuckmeFuckme— yes!” You beg deliriously, pushing yourself back onto him. You can feel the way his cock is bulging from your lower stomach, but you couldn’t care less because you just want it even deeper inside you. Fuck, it hurts even but it feels so good that you can’t stop begging for more. “Deeper — oh, yesyesyes!”

Ralaks groans become drawn out and he’s burying his hot face into the crook of your neck as his pulsing tip bullies its way past your cervix. It’s like white hot pleasure surging through your entire being and it has you so lightheaded you may actually pass out before he’s finished with you.

His cock heats up inside your cunt, becoming so veiny you could practically feel each vein press against your gummy, slimy walls. He’s now panting open mouthed against your throat, his tongue darting out to lick your skin. He shoves your head down so he can access the back of your neck—a hot spot for your pheromones— and grazes his canines against you. Every fiber of his being is urging him to sink them into your skin and see if you taste as good as you smell. His fangs throb in his mouth at the mere thought, his hot saliva dripping off their length and down your neck.

You’re so overwhelmed and overstimulated that you can’t form a coherent thought much less process the fact that you’re quickly nearing your climax. It’s as if you’ve surrendered all control over your body to him and he’s dictating what happens next. Your pussy walls tighten around him so much it aches and he outright whimpers.

“Sst-ah.” He pulls away from your neck and slams his eyes shut, grimacing from the way your cunt is gripping his cock. At this point you’re so on edge that you’re just pinching him, locking him inside you and almost cutting off his blood supply. It’s more than painful for him, and he becomes peeved that you won’t ease up.

Irritated, he aggressively slams himself into you so that you stop with your pathetic little pinching, but all that does is tip you over the edge. Next thing you know your cunt is helplessly fluttering around his cock and your pussy juices are trickling down your thighs.

“Mmm-fuck I’m cumming!” You moan the words so quickly they jumble together, “Cu-cumming! Cumming!”

You throbbing around him has his eyes rolling into the back of his head but the more your body convulses underneath him the more he grows frustrated with you. How could such a little thing put on such a big performance? Why won��t you just stay still?

So he thrusts. And thrusts. And thrusts.

Taming you in the only way his body knows how. Fucking into you without mercy or sympathy. He lets out a hiss, the first he’s ever directed your way, and tightens his grip. “Keep…” He pulls out of you until only the tip is left inside, “...still.” Ralak’s deep voice rumbles next to your ear as he slams every inch cock into your cunt, the mere force of his thrust almost knocking you onto your stomach. You let out a broken whimper, coming down from your high and already feeling the coil in your stomach wind and heat up again.

“Haa—‘nna…make you swell.” He groans the fragmented sentence like a dying man, grinding so deeply inside you that his swollen balls rub against your puffed up clit. Your bruised cervix feels so good against his cock as he uses it to massage the most sensitive part of his tip.

Experiencing nothing but absolute rapture, Ralaks head slumps into the crook of your neck, where he’s flooded by your scent. He only grinds harder. And harder, until he’s panting like a viperwolf against your skin.

“Fuck — please…” You beg through a shaky whisper, trying to free your hands from his undying grip, “I j-ust c-came.”

He’s just so fucking big and deep that he’s touching parts of you that have never touched before, and he’s only getting more aggressive the more you push away his advances. Right now, you’re just a squirming, noisy bitch in heat that needs to be put in her place. To surrender and submit. And the pheromones wafting up his nostrils only drive him further into his bestial urges to claim you as his.

His teeth and gums throb in his mouth once more when the urge to mark you as his becomes indubitable. Much like the urge to keep you still enough to make you into a vessel for his seed. He indulges himself, yanking your head back to expose the bend of your shoulder. He hovers open mouthed over your flawless skin and gives you a kitten lick before ruthlessly marking you.

Your eyes bulge and pupils constrict into nothing but dots when you feel his lengthy fangs plunge into your flesh. The wail evading your throat is deafening and only gets higher when you feel your shoulder set ablaze. His jaw locks into place and he holds you still as he incessantly claims you as his in more ways than just marking. Your eyes start to water and your body stiffens when you feel it.

He’s bulging inside you.

Stretching you out until your shoulder isn’t the only part of you on fire. You lash around, clawing at whatever’s in your way until your nails are dull but the more you move the more it burns. “Y-You’re getting bigger inside me!” You release a high pitched squeal, your elbows and knees finally collapsing under you. Now all his weight is on top of you, pinning you flat to the bed with nowhere for you to go. He begins groaning low and deep, drawing it out until it turns into a depraved growl. It feels as if he’s swelling inside you, as if he were doubling in size. As if he were — oh fuck.

“You’re — you’re knotting me, lak!” You yell when you come to the realisation. It feels like there’s two of him inside you, stretching you to unfathomable lengths. Despite your continuous attempts to get him to let up, he continues to bulge inside you. “You’re knotting me.” You repeat the words in a weakened, croaky voice of defeat, finally giving in and accepting your fate.

Riding out his high, his hips stutter out of his control — a familiar sensation now flooding your core. A rush of warmth inside you. It’s his hot seed pumping inside you, his cock thumping with each spurt. He groans and moans until you’re so overloaded with his cum it begins to drip down your thighs and mix with yours.

He unlatches from your shoulder, lapping at the wound to prevent it from bleeding too badly. He plants a few rough kisses on the double crescent shaped mark and works them up to the lobe of your ear. He’s panting and sweating and he can feel the fog lifting now that he’s had his release. “‘m sorry.” He mumbles between wet kisses, now trailing them back down to the fresh wound to lap at it some more. “‘m sorry.”

“Ralak, I-I” You stutter, overloaded with all these new sensations. It’s burning worse than a hellfire wasp sting but at the same time it’s everything your body hungers for. “Haah.. it-it hurts” You whimper quietly, looking behind you to see the most inebriated eyes you’ve ever seen on this man’s face stare back at you. He releases his pheromones to help your body calm down and feel less pain, ultimately scenting you all together.

“Mawey.” Ralak huffs, trying his hardest to stay still now that he’s quickly coming to the realisation that he’s knotted and marked you in one go. “Doing… so well, tahnì.” He tries to praise you but truthfully he’s still in and out of it, dazing off when he feels the occasional throb of your walls.

“Am I? Am I helping you too, lak?” You ask in a surprisingly optimistic tone, proud that you were able to do what you were told was unmanageable. He musters out a nod, grunting as he finishes emptying himself in your womb.

Feeling some level of sense and rationality, you ask him a question that’s been on your mind. “I’m going to get pregnant, aren’t I?”

“Mm.” He hums, nodding his head as he nuzzles himself into the dip of your shoulder, inhaling your seeping scent.

“Is that what you w-want?” Your breath hitches as you flinch from his cheek resting on your shoulder.

“Mm.” Another grunt, followed by an unexpected, fervid thrust — his body answering your question on his behalf by ensuring every last drop of his essence is inside your fertile womb.

You focus on steadying your breathing now that you’ve gotten your answer.

“Irayo, muntxate [thank you, wife].” He says weakly, finally rolling you both onto your sides for some much needed rest. You chuckle. A weak one, but a chuckle nonetheless, and repeat his own words back to him.

“Do not thank.” You say with a smile, getting yourself as comfortable as you can for the long night ahead.

——

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inkskinned · 1 year

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something that stuck with me once, way back in middle school when i was still learning how to write - my teacher said "writing shock and tragedy is easy, it's humor that's the hardest."

i have been up and down the halls of academia. i have the fancy degree and the experience in publishing. i think i paved most of my own road with the little bricks of sorrow i had stored inside of me. i know i did it mostly with works that are blisteringly lonely. i know why we write like that. it's lifesaving.

but yeah, i mean. i also know how much people think that "sad" media is the same thing as "good" media. our human desire to connect is so hard-pressed that we immediately latch onto any broken themes. the bullied kids and the tales of inspiration. people keep saying things like "glass onion" and "everything everywhere" weren't actually good. because, you know, they're. happy. or happy-ish. happy enough. and we only value art if it's grimdark-adjacent.

do you know - people still consistently whine at me that my writing would be so good if i just capitalized things. i used to flinch. i get kind of a weird, vindictive little rush these days - i get to say thank you for the comment! i have chronic pain and this is how i conserve my hands so i can write more during the day :) grammar isn't real anyway! and now they're trapped in the room with me, you know? i get to pull out my map and show them how grammar is not the same thing as good writing.

writers have this thing. we scratch at our insides, constantly, prying our lives apart into splinters. prying the splinters apart into atoms. when we combust something into poetry, we control it. it cannot hurt us if it exists outside of us rather than burning a hole through the bottom of our lungs. it's not a wonder to me that so much of what i make comes out like a death gasp. i spent a long time at the bottom. i keep going back, too. when you're down there for so long, the only thing you can exhale is fumes.

but humor is hard. humor needs timing; which i can't promise in a paragraph. i can kind-of force it through careful spacing, but i have no idea how fast you're reading these things. humor needs a somewhat awareness of your audience, when really - anybody could be looking. humor needs us to understand what the joke is, why it's a joke, and to think - ha! that is funny. in tragedy, everyone understands the metaphor of a kicked puppy. in humor, you need to introduce them to the concept of a dog.

and forget about positivity. forget about anything not made for adults explicitly. every time i see a well-made children's media piece, i feel fucking horrible for the creators. most of the time, people see children's media as being sort of "not worth" applause, even though i'm pretty sure they have to work twice as hard. i have no idea how hard it must be to not be able to have your character just say. "well, fuck." something about a message of peace or friendship or caring - for some reason, that makes the media not for adults. like, okay. i'm pretty sure my father actually, out of all of us, could use a good book on how to control his temper and talk about his feelings.

but whatever. i write a short story about my ocd, and how it's fucking killing me. it gets an award. it gets published. i write a short story about my ocd, and how i'm overcoming it, and how my days are getting lighter and starting to flourish. i keep getting ghosted. no response. it just is lacking... something.

is this it, forever? you can be an artist, okay. but the trade off is that the things you make - if they're happy? if they're joyful? people will say it's stupid and pandering. you bite your nails off. you file your teeth. you hear something inside of you breaking.

the other day in a writing group, someone i'd thought of as a friend said: "you write so much better these days! i love what you make when you'd rather be dead."

#i have no idea what this is about #writeblr #i think u might tho. if ur an artist. u might. idk

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ixiot-ghostrebel · 7 months

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I have another brainrot cooking, so in the meantime, have this:

Alrighty, so the new archon who's name I can't remember, right?

From what I've seen of them, they're pretty cocky and prideful.

I can imagine when The Creator visits their nation, they just flirt with The Creator every chance they get

And the other archons (except for Venti because he does it too even though it's to a smaller scale) are just HORRIFIED awaiting The Creator's reaction.

Now The Creator does not give a shit and just fucking FLIRTS BACK

And all of the archons (except for her because she's smug asf) are just:

OMG FURINA & CREATOR RIZZING FR LOL I LOVE THIS. If only I had good flirting skills, man—I'll have to lightly go over that part 😔 SOBBING. MY SKILL ISSUES—

@royalrose2011 THIS IS SO GOOD THOUGH—

Furina Flirting w/ Creator: Archon Reactions?

Furina be slaying out here fr—and you're living it! When did she become—

The other Archons are being caught off guard.

(Warning: Might be OOC!)

Venti

Man is flabbergasted. I mean, he knows he does the same thing and all that—flirting with you and stuff—but to see Furina just flirt in every single moment she gets, every single moment you're in HER nation—holy cow!

He's both amazed and shocked! He should write a poem about this! This was a thing to remember for the ages!

And perhaps he should show this to Zhongli and Ei to watch them wither. And he should present it to you! You love his poetry, and you certainly tolerate his little flirting too!

"Ehe, this bard has found the inspiration for a new ballad! I'll be right back, everyone! Good luck, blockhead Zhongli!" Cheery boi goes on his merry way to write the best poem the Creator has ever seen.

Safe to say it was worth the wait. You absolutely loved it.

Zhongli

He got a heart attack, seeing Focalors flirting with you so shamelessly. This was blasphemous! Even Venti, that absolute airhead, wouldn't go this extreme!

Children these days, and their lack of mannerisms. Zhongli can only sigh, sip his tea, and try his best to not throw a rock at the Hydro Archon. At least she's keeping you in good spirits and amused.

"Lady Furina, please don't get into Their Grace's personal space too much. Allow them so breathing space, please." If he thinks Furina is trying to get a little too close to you, Zhongli will plant his foot down. He has meteors to send as warning if Furina would not bid to these warnings.

Raiden Ei

Aside from the Puppet Shogun's general dislike to how close Furina was (Ei can't blame the Puppet Shogun), Ei feels real uncomfortable watching Furina getting all confident around you.

She's not uncomfortable of the flirting—after all, she too also deals with Venti's dealings, but Furina was a whole new level she has yet to fully understand.

"Furina. Watch yourself." Bodyguard Ei—that's her new job now. She's trying to give you that personal space you need that Furina is trying to take. "I will not hesitate to strike twice." If there's anything sketchy going on that Furina does, Ei is stepping in with her Musou no Hitotachi, no excuses.

She really does know how you tolerate this.

Nahida

She's in between giggling at Furina's antics and entirely shocked with how well you're taking it.

She thought you would've...how should she describe it...dislike how confident and smug Furina was doing. Then again, you were also tolerating all of Venti's antics too...

Nahida isn't really sure what to do, to be honest. While she loves Furina for keeping The Almighty Creator amused, she doesn't know how she feels about the constant flirting. In a sense, you were spending more time in Fontaine than anywhere else now!

"Your Grace, can you come hang out with me for a little while?" Nahida asks you with this cute little pout. "I would like to spend more time with you too in my nation!" And boy, are you now conflicted. Furina being a slay queen, or Nahida being cute child—who would you want to spend more time with?

Furina

While she appears confident and smug, she is most, upon all else, stoked and ecstatic of the fact you love her antics! Now, was that a new perspective she has yet to see!

With her keeping you around her awesome, extravagant nation, she can show all of Teyvat how her nation was the best nation of all time! And the popularity of Fontaine itself was increasing—more mora for her economy!~

Of course, she had it all planned out from the start! Who could make such a masterpiece and grand operation other than the Hydro Archon herself?

"Your Ever-Elegant Almighty Grace!~ Please, Allow I, Focalors, the Hydro Archon of Fontaine and God of Justice, send us off with these fine cakes. You are, however, by far, sweeter than any divine dessert!~" You snicker, liking the way this is going. Furina is even more cocky and smug when the other Archons try to intervene and take your attention away from her.

She has truly become the god that outshined all of Celestia. Hoho, the way their faces looked! She's absolutely stoked!

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: It feels great to be motivated! I hope you like this post :D I find this one real amusing LOL—Furina would really do this. If Furina would flirted with me, I honestly wouldn't know how I would feel LOL. I still love Furina though—high hopes that when Furina is out, Furina Wanters will be Furina Havers!~

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

#genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #sagau x reader #genshin self aware #sagau #sagau genshin #yandere sagau #genshin cult au #sagau brainrot #genshin imact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #sagau venti #sagau furina #sagau zhongli #sagau ei #sagau nahida

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wildmelon · 9 months

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well, it finally happened, a big cc creator told me not to put their cc in my sim dumps... it's a creator i couldn't find tou for at the time (and still can't now, just tried for research purposes) so i went with common sense rules like "don't include cc that's in early access" and "don't paywall other ppl's cc" which i obviously would never do. i did change the dl to appease them, but...

i'm feeling torn between wanting to be considerate/understanding and absolute irritation at what this community has become, especially in light of the absurd influx of brand new cc creators who aren't part of the community paywalling their very first posts. i'm thinking about the text post that was going around recently that said something like "imagine if the simblr community was actually collaborative and we shared creations openly" instead of this for-profit entity it's become.

this creator's been nothing but polite so i don't want to seem like i'm after them but they're also making so much money monthly off cc that you'd think it'd be ok to use that cc. bc literally what else is a sim dump. i use a bunch of cc and it's included in the download for convenience, then people put the cc in their own game and everything is exactly the same from there-- your name on the file, your name on the cas preview.

except, of course, the downloader didn't visit your page in the first place, so you missed out on another potential patron/click (never mind the fact that the creators i use for sim dumps are intentionally bigger so people are more likely to already have the cc/know who the creator is, so you probably didn't miss out anyway).

the other thing is that anyone who won't let their cc be used in sim dumps must understand that if everyone else followed that rule, sharing sims with each other would pretty quickly become way too tedious and that entire way of engaging with the community would fall apart. how can you justify a rule that would unquestionably harm the community if every creator followed it? it's both unsustainable and ungenerous.

the bottom line is we need to reconsider how we approach creations made for this game. if you're a creator and your goal is not for your creation to be used, shared, and enjoyed, why are you even making cc? (& money is not a good answer 😀)

#lush.talk #rant #the patreon issue #the sims community

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blossomthepinkbunny · 1 month

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Vivzepop will always be the biggest issue with her own show if she doesn't change. And i'm not saying that because I desperately want to shit on her but rather because it's so clear that her attitude is what made Hazbin Hotel be so dissapointing after the long wait. The pilot released four years ago and Viv had these characters for much longer than that. One could assume that with this much time on her hands she would have a concise plan for how a series of her story would play out (I can imagine that having an own show is a dream for lots of creative people out there). And I get that that plan might get screwed up by a shorter episode count then expected, but she should be the one who knows her story best and who should know what stuff could also be cut out. The first season of Hazbin Hotel is so incredibly overstuffed with characters and plot that it completely looses the main premise the show was originally pitched with (the idea of a hotel were sinners are redeemed. As it is now the hotel is really not important at all). People have talked endlessly about how Viv can't handle criticism and it really sucks because criticism is one of the best ways to improve your writing, drawings, music etc. Without criticism you won't refine the thing you're working on in a meaningful way. Of course it feels bad when you put something out there you wanted to share and then people critique it, but that's part of pretty much every creative journey, or atleast it should be and Vivzepop shouldn't get a pass from this just because she doesn't like it. And there are great shows, movies or books that are rarely or almost never criticised. But the artists behind these works probably went trough years of honing what they do by being criticised for the stuff they put out. And I don't want to say that Vivzepop didn't work hard to make Hazbin Hotel, but it is hard to claim that she improves in her craft, when everytime someone says they don't like her show she throws a hissy fit. She wants the same reactions that these other amazing pieces of media get without ever listening to criticism. Which she sees as a personal attack rather than a tool that could help her to achieve the same level of writing prowess the creators behind media like that have. She believes she is already on the same level as them, just because she basically shuts anyone out who disagrees with her. There's this clip at the end of a Drew Gooden Video which I think sums up the situation with Viv pretty good (the Video is called "Leaving the YouTube Bubble"). He is talking about Lily Singh and her talk show but I feel like a lot of the stuff he says about handling criticism applies to Vivzepop as well.

(you might have to turn up the audio).

Unprofessional behaviour like that might be excusable when the creator is pretty young or they are interacting with publicity for the first time really. But neither of that applies to Viv. And Hazbin Hotel isn't just an indie animation pilot on youtube anymore. It's now a fully realized show created with a pretty prominent studio on a major streaming network and it should be held to the same standards as other shows or movies alike (not saying indie animation or animation on youtube doesn't have a standard but with more budget and support, there's obviously going to be different expectations for the show now). There have been issues in Helluva Boss and the Hazbin Hotel pilot ever since their release which could've been handled with more time and the new show. But Vivzepop shows time and time again that she isn't willing to listen to people who criticise her, which could actually lead to her show getting better. I don't like Viv or her work a lot. I think she is incredibly unprofessional and she has done her fair share of questionable or problematic stuff, which often leads to issues in her shows. There have been some characters I like, some songs or scenes that were pretty well done, very cool animation and an actually interesting premise on paper in HH and HB. There are things that make me come back to these shows to watch the next episode. And i'm obviously passionate enough about these shows to make whole posts about what I think was done badly and what could be changed. But for the aspects of HH or HB I enjoy, there are soo many more problems I have with it. Problems that won't go away unless Viv stops seeing every criticism as a personal attack. Because if Vivzepop doesn't stop acting like her writing is some unreachable stuff that needs no changes I don't really see a point in assuming that these shows will ever get better.

#vivzepop critical #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critique #helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #i dont support vivziepop

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fictionalslvr · 7 months

Text

SYNOPSIS: After so many years together, Leon is insecure about his dad body.

PAIRING: Vendetta¡Husband¡Leon x Wife¡F¡Reader

WORD COUNT: 1.316k

WARNINGS: NSFW/SMUT. Kinda sub¡Leon. In front of the mirror, exhibitionism. Mentions os male anatomy, description of male anatomy. Jerking off, ect.

NOTES: Just needed to comfort this man, I'm trying to keep active and write more, even if i have a lot of ideas, I can't write.

That's what i got after days thinking about it, hope you guys like 🫶🏻 credits to creator of this bot for the plot idea.

FRISSON: (n.) A shiver of pleasure

The unique scent of the fritter on the pan is the first that comes into your nostrils by the morning, your eyes still fighting to stay open under that comfortable dim orange light of the sun coming from your windows. You can hear heavy footsteps on the wooden floor, knowing exactly that it is your dear husband, Leon, he’s walking to the kitchen you’re in, making breakfast for your kids and him.

It’s been weeks since your sexual life with Leon has been…vain. For some unknown reason, he’s been way too distant, especially after he’d stopped going to the gym. He would do it under lights off, or not even doing nothing to satisfy both sexual needs. These facts may be related but you can’t really put them together and understand what your husband is feeling to not share any moment of intimacy with you, who has been his wife for many years now. The heavy footsteps are overheard by two fastened little feets on the floor, along with giggles and an unheard chatter, that quickly is responsible for bringing a bit more joy to your lazy face. You knew that it was your kids coming to the kitchen as well.

When the two tiny bodies sat on the chair, they were looking at you, their eyes squinting as they both carried Leon’s smile.

—”Mommy! Good morning.” They sang in a choir, seeming almost essayed. You giggled, nodding your head along with their happiness so early on the day.

—”Good morning, my love.” This was Leon’s voice now. The phrase was stretched on his tongue as he sat down in front of the little girl and the boy.

—”Breakfast is almost ready. The two of you are already dressed in your uniforms?”

Both of the kids hummed together, already anxious to eat the food and start a new day at school.

When the two twins dashed out through the door and waved at both of you and Leon, going inside the bus and leaving for the day. You sighed when the bus faded into the street, a faint smile on your face as you saw Leon turning to go to the bed and read his every day newspaper.

You followed him, and found his body splayed on your shared bed, his lips pursed together and his squared glasses on. You’ve always found him adorable that way. With a soft chuckle, you crawled to the bed, planting some moist kisses all over his face, making him grumble about it under his teeths.

—”What got you so distant these days?” You murmured, voice full of concern as Leon looked at you, very confused.

—”Distant? What are you talking about?”

The newspapers are slipped to rest on top of his chest, Leon pushes his glasses off to lay them on the headboard next to the bed.

—”Yeah, I've noticed, Leon. You’re not even changing in front of me anymore. There’s something wrong?” One hand comes above his, your thumb caressing his skin to soothe him down while abroading the topic.

—”There’s nothing wrong.” He looked away, and you knew him way too good to know he’s lying.

—”Leon.” You insisted.

—”I’m telling you the truth.”

—”We’ve been together for thirteen years total. I know you’re lying.” Leon cursed under his teeths, and you heard his upset from you knowing him so well like that.

—”Fine. There IS something wrong.”

—”And can I know what it is?” Nuzzling closer to his body, you could feel his same scent as always, which you’ve always recognized him for. Your hands never stopped from soothing him down. After a couple of seconds in silence, he answers.

—”I’m not quite…comfortable with my body.”

—”What’s wrong with your body?”

—”It’s not the same as when you’ve met me.” He sighed in disappointment, kissing his own teeths to make any sound to not look so pathetic.

—”What’s the problem with that?” Leon felt as if you’re not understanding the situation, he took your hands and pressed them together, looking directly in your eyes.

—”My love, I'm not the same Leon. Not the same toned man that you’ve knew…i’m just pathetic now with this fucking…dad body.”

Your head fell unconsciously to the side, completely confused with his words. That’s not a single bit of how you saw Leon, and the only thing you wanted is that he saw himself the way you saw him. Leon was visibly frustrated with his own body, and you never saw him like this before in all those years together.

—”I don’t see any problem with your body, my love. In fact, it’s normal that you can’t keep the same shape after so many years.”

—”That’s because you didn’t saw my body yet, you wouldn’t understand.” Leon whispered, turning his body slightly to the side so you wouldn’t see his belly through the shirt.

—”You know I wouldn't judge you for that, my dear. Your body isn’t going to change my love for you.”

Just like the words were exactly his fear, his eyes dazed off at the same instant, perplexed. It’s like he’s been thinking you would leave him after seeing his body so differently.

—”You saw me in the worst moments, carrying your childrens with my body all swollen and sore. Why would I judge you from not keeping in shape?”

His lips pursed, he let your hands slip from his and faced the wall, still hammering that thought on his mind.

—”And I trust you, very much. I’m just…afraid, I guess..."

What you didn't expect was that a few minutes later, Leon would be splayed in the bed, legs wide open and head against your shoulder. His lips parted and let a few grunts leave from them, which is now swollen from biting them so much as he does.

The best way to show him how much you appreciate him completely, was to show through your eyes. So you planted him in front of the mirror, body pressed against yours as your hands were moving alongside his tummy, unconsciously sliding even way more down to underneath his boxers. His eyes were fluttering, almost fighting to stay open as your free hand held his chin.

—"Look in the mirror, Leon. I want you to see how handsome you are." He squirmed on your hand, you felt the way his breath hitched in between his teeths.

Leon looked straight, trying his best not to close his eyes. But the waves of shock that your fingertips on his skin are sending to him, are hard to handle. He felt vulnerable nonetheless, but the pleasure was undeniable.

—"Slow…slow down." The blonde man hissed when your naughty hands found the way to his already erect penis, only enough to squeeze the swollen tip, knowing so damn well that would send him over the edge.

And just as you thought, it did. A single touch, and Leon was down bad for you. His head fell back into your shoulders, his throat letting a loud lewd moan slide out. He was really sensitive after weeks without not even seeing your body properly, and he dreamed about being touched this way by you again. Even if he wanted, the insecurities were munching on the back of his mind, even though he's very happy you noticed his abrupt change of mood and are now trying to put some senses into his mind.

—"I don't want you to ever doubt yourself anymore. You're handsome, and I love…Every. Single. Inch. Of. You." Syllabically speaking, each word was a kiss on his neck, only to keep him way more desperate than he already is. —"Did you understand?"

—"Y-Yes! Yes…,yes I did, ma'am." His voice lowered an octave, he was already so needy for you that he can't even think straight. You flooded his mind with thoughts of you, giving no space for the insecurities — At least for a long time.

#fanfic #fictionalslvr #smut #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon x fem reader #leon x reader #leon x you #leon kennedy smut #leon smut #leon resident evil #resident evil vendetta #vendetta leon #re vendetta

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the-doomed-witch · 1 year

Text

DRIVING LESSONS

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Nat teaches you how to ride her motorbike.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY; MINORS + MEN DNI. not proof read (apologies), smut, fingering (r receiving), strap-on (r receiving), bit of teasing, bit of fluff, making out

DISCLAIMER: Please note that this is a work of fiction and you are not supposed to mess around while driving and should definitely wear a helmet and stuff. Yeah just stay safe and again, remember that this is fiction.

Author’s Note: we are going to pretend that i am not the writer who uploads a fic every two months 😁 gif credits to the creator.

MASTERLIST // NAVIGATION // REQUESTS OPEN

— ✦ —

Thor holds up his jug flooded with beer, and raises a toast, “Here’s to everyone’s favourite couple, the two people we adore, Y/N and Natasha!” All the Avengers cheered for the two of you. Natasha wraps her arm around you and whispers in your ears, “To us, love.”

Taking a few sips of your drink, you place the glass on the table and turn to your girlfriend. “I cannot imagine myself ever being thankful for being stupid in the past but I am. I love you.”

“I love you too. Mind who you are talking about, you’re my stupid.” She kisses your forehead, it makes you blush under everybody’s gaze.

After a few rounds of drinks and snacks around the table, you gesture at Nat to drop you back home, before she gets too drunk. She gets up and announces, as she puts on her leather jacket, “Folks, I’ll be back after dropping my gorgeous girlfriend back at her place.” She beams at you and pecks your lips. Yep, she is mildly drunk.

“Don’t forget to take your time to tuck her in bed!” Tony shouts sarcastically from afar, as you’re both walking away. He was quite inebriated and you could hear Pepper asking him to get himself together.

Outside the bar, you confirm with Nat once again, “Are you sure you are sober enough to drive me home? I could get a cab or something. I want you to be safe.”

“First of all, you’ll be sitting right behind me and you’re not scared for your own safety? Lame. Secondly, I've been trained to be vigilant all my life. I’ll be right back.”

Couple of moments later, she’s back on her motorcycle and you seat yourself on the seat behind her. “Hold me close, for precautionary concerns of course.” she tells you. She wasn’t facing you but you knew what her smirk would be like.

You wrap your arms tightly around her waist and rest your head on her back, minimising the distance between the two of you. It’s a safe, comfortably silent drive, where the breeze blows softly and the night sky gets romantically darker.

— ✦ —

Inside your apartment, Natasha sits down on your bed as you go to freshen up in the bathroom. You enjoy testing her patience and so you take your time to shower, not letting her in, but making her wait for you outside. “Y/N? Detka? At least let me shower with you or let me go back to the bar. Don’t do this to me!” you hear her calling out to you from the room. You answer back in the same volume, “I’ll be there in a minute.”

As said, you step out with a towel wrapped around your bare body. “Oh Y/N you’re not doing this to me right now.”

You reply, “I surely am, honey.” and walk around the room drying your hair, gathering clothes, putting the dirty ones in the laundry, and whatnot. While doing your currently irrelevant chores, you bring up more random things to talk about.

Clearing the pile of laundry, you ask her, “Do you think I should get a haircut? A change in colour maybe?”

“You look so beautiful today, Natty.” you say, giving her a soft peck on the cheek as you move along the room, letting her notice your cleavage.

“By the way, Nat, I would love it if you could teach me how to ride a motorcycle.”

She gets up, holds you and places you on the bed a little harshly, pinning you down with her body. In a deep, sultry voice, she warns you, “You’ll be taught a lot of stuff and being a good girl for me is going to be the first one of them.” And with that, the towel is thrown aside.

Nat leans forward to catch you in a deep kiss, the one you’ve been depriving her ever since you reached home. Instinctively, your hands clutch the collar of her shirt and pull her closer to you, till there is no space to spare.

The next thing you know is that her fingers are inside your pussy, pumping so hard. It results in you moaning into the kiss, and releasing the collar of her shirt, silently asking her to let you catch up on your breath. When she moves her face a little farther than you liked, you grab her back to proximity, all between screams and chants of her name. Small locks of her auburn hair dangle around before you tuck them behind her ears.

The movements of her digits get faster and faster till you are at the edge of your climax. It was hard to speak anything, so your body gives indications to Natasha in lieu of telling her verbally about your orgasm. It felt wonderful that none of you needed words to communicate, the silent and subtle signs were enough.

She lets you come all over her hand, adding on praiseful murmurs to bring you back to composure.

— ✦ —

The next morning, you wake up fully clothed in your PJs with no sign of Natasha. She probably went back to the bar or the compound later. But she was out on the balcony, looking at nothing tangible. “Good morning, baby.” you greet her, acknowledging your presence. She turns towards you and smiles, “Good morning, dorogoya. Did you sleep well?”

“I did. I thought you left because of work, but I guess you’re free today?”

“You know I love a bit of snuggling,” she grins sheepishly, “And I’m free for you, anytime. Are you still up for the driving lessons thing?”

“Sure! Let me freshen up and we’re gonna be ready to leave.”

— ✦ —

Nat drove the two of you to a less busier part of the city to find an empty road, for obvious reasons. You observe her throughout the trip to learn a few things ahead of the track.

On a small and empty street, Nat lets you sit on the vehicle and climbs on the seat behind you. Little by little, she points at the different stuff, explaining what their respective functions are. “Here is the clutch, you pretty much know what it does. Keep your hand on it at all times no matter what […] Place your foot here. Yes and pull the clutch. And this is how you change gears.”

An hour or so later, you were driving smoothly on the straight road with Natasha guiding you little by little. She kept both her hands on your hands at all times, praising you every now and then to encourage you.

“Keep going, Y/N. Yes, now let’s take a U-turn.”

The afternoon passed this way. She taught you some more basic things, till you suggested lunch - “I almost forgot about lunch. I know a nice place with the best Mexican food in this area, let’s go there.”

As both of you wait for your food to arrive, your girlfriend initiates conversation, “If you keep practising this way I think you’ll learn how to drive a motorcycle quite well within a week. But of course, practice is important.”

“Does that mean I could take you on a ride soon?”

“Well, it does. Here’s our lunch though.”

— ✦ —

And so, your driving lessons were continued without any other Avenger having the knowledge. Three months passed by, till one starry evening Natasha tells you, “I think you have practised enough for this moment.”

It leaves you in thorough confusion, but the look in her eyes doesn’t seem malicious so you let her do her thing. She takes you to a place you cannot recall but have definitely been to, as far as the route is concerned.

It isn’t until the both of you reach the destination when you realise you’re at the garage. Memories of her lips and gasps wash over you as you walk inside of it once again. There’s nothing very different about it as a room. There are grey painted walls and two bikes including the one you drove on just now. A few mechanical tools, cans of spray paint, some more tactical gear. In one bottom corner of the room, there were patches of spray paint, they were probably tested there.

You turn around and recall every moment of that night by keeping your bottom lip bitten. Natasha knows all the things clouding your train of thought, but she had something different planned.

She pulls a white sheet off of a motorbike you didn’t really notice was standing in the corner. Nonetheless, it is a gorgeous, matte-black one with tires wider than a usual motorcycle. The black-tainted windshield added a touch-up. You let out an uncontrollable awe at the look.

“My gosh, Nat, this is fucking awesome. It might as well be the coolest bike to ever exist.”

She smiles at your reaction, and explains, “Tony made this for me a couple of years ago. It’s designed to prevent you from falling down, but oh she rides fast, Y/N. I cannot wait for you to drive this.” She wraps her arm around you. Your cheeks are flustered at her wordplay, but you hide it from prominence.

“Quick question. If it’s made for a stable drive then why didn’t you teach me on this one? I mean, you said that I am now “ready” for this.”

“You’ll find out all about that, Y/N.” She winks at you and tosses you the keys. Her expression was easily decipherable, she was up to something cocky. You shrug your shoulders anyway and take a seat on the bike, lifting it off the stand. It’s surprisingly light for a build as heavy as it appears to be.

A few minutes later, you’re driving by on one of the emptiest yet the most romantic streets in the city. There are not many stars visible, but even the handful ones that are in sight are enough. The breeze is extremely light, and cosily cold. Both of Natasha’s arms swaddle around you. Her classic leather jacket evidently fails to give her the warmth that she feels with you. Her face is nuzzled up on your left shoulder.

Suddenly, the pleasant moment turns into an entirely different one, when you sense her sultry breath on your collarbone. Before you can speak in protest, she directs you, “Shush. Keep driving dorogoya. I am right here.”

Her cold fingers slowly glide down towards your core over your pants. Once, then twice she circles them over your needy clit. You groan lightly, as you arch your back. “Nat, we’re gonna get hurt. Let me-”

“Nuh-uh honey. This is what you get for testing my patience the other night. And now you are so needy for me, aren’t you?” You lean back into her harder and hum as a positive response. “Then use your words Y/N. Are you needy for me right now?”

“Yes. You and only you.”

“Good.” Her persistent teasing makes you hit the brakes harshly as an instinct. You park the motorcycle in an empty parking lot and hold Nat’s hand, guiding her behind a tree trunk whose sole purpose later resulted to be a mere physical support.

Your back resting on the tree, you grab her flustered face between your hands and tug her in close. When the lack of oxygen is too much, she pulls away. Sweaty palms clutching her leather jacket, you make her take it off to reveal her tank top.

You turn her around and begin planting kisses and leaving marks all over her. Natasha’s pants get heavier by the minute as you suck on her skin then soothe it, and repeat it. The redhead turns her head towards you as she unbuttons her pair of jeans. With a smug look and a twinkle in her wonderful emerald eyes, she reveals a strap larger than any that you have taken before.

Vigorously, she pins you against the tree again and unbuttons your pants, then pulls them down immediately, just enough for her to access. Before you can process the moment, the strap fills up your cunt.

On shortage of friction, you move your hips along, but Nat takes her time to pick up a pace. However, once she does, you can sense the leaves shedding due to the shaking. Her free hand covers your mouth, to keep you considerably silenced. Beads of sweat roll down her defined face, and she stares right into your eyes with a look so pure.

You anticipate your climax reaching, and your eyes widen as a result. Nat lifts her hand off your mouth and orders, “You know you have to ask for it, detka.”

And so, you barely manage to utter currently, “Please, Nat, can I come?”

As a reply, she nods lightly and thrusts inside of you harder, till you come. Soon as you release, your balance gets toppled over. Her hands come to your rescue the following second, and she places you down in the concrete ground to relax. You sit up straight with some support.

“Y/N, there’s a store right around the corner, I’ll be right back getting you a pair of new sweatpants. We’ll go home after that, okay?” Natasha asks you, handing you a bottle of water and placing a hand on your shoulder gently. “Okay.”

She helps you get changed, and you aid her with packing everything up neatly. “How are you feeling?” she asks you in a silent tone. “I- This feels wonderful. I wish you would let me return the favour, though. How are you feeling?”

“Still deeply in love with you as ever.”

She plants a kiss on your cheek and rides you back to your apartment.

— ✦ —

Upon reaching home, you grab her firmly and tell her, “You know, baby, I’m actually feeling kind of hungry right now.”

“Then wait let me get something for y-”

Tightening your grip around her, you whisper against her reddened face, “Oh, you see, I’m not really that kind of hungry.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff smut #mcu natasha romanoff #black widow

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theabigailthorn · 1 year

Note

Surely with how popular you are you would have had a few cancelling attempts, but you're drama free. How? I thought you'd be target number 1 with TERFs.

So the thing is, people on the internet have and do try to wreck my life! But it's true that I get less of it than a lot of other women, and I often ask myself (and them) this same question. I think it comes down to a few factors. In no particular order:

I'm white and thin

I don't post selfies very often

The Philosophy Tube Jutsu: I never use my platform to say anything bad about individuals, so I don't make enemies

I'm British

I don't put my pronouns or the word 'trans' in my bio. I mention it if it it's relevant but to a casual troll looking for someone to go after there are more obvious targets

My brand: in terms of online content, my brand is 'Educational and Compassionate.' I try to be even-handed and listen to all sides and never be angry, and people are maybe a bit reluctant to get mad at someone who does that? In terms of acting, my brand right now is 'I'm Trying Hard and I'm On My Way Up!' which I guess people like?

I have a posh accent

I don't make online content about video games

I'm pretty enough that men like looking at me but not so hot it makes them angry

I transitioned in private before I came out publicly. I knew that when I did I'd get a lot of backlash, so I pre-emptively muted LOADS of words in my comments section and wove a kind of digital safety net

I'm so busy that I often miss whatever the discourse du jour is and don't get involved. As a wise woman once said, 'Do Not Tweet.'

I deliberately dress and present myself as 'classy' in public-facing stuff

Most of my content is scripted, so by default it attracts people who like to sit down and listen

Philosophy Tube is literally all about critical thinking and not taking things at face value. So if a typical Philosophy Tube Subscriber sees a post that says 'I saw Abigail Thorn kicking a puppy down the street!' they're more likely to stop and think, 'What's the evidence for this?' This means that when there are hate campaigns and lies spread about me (and there are, from time to time) my core audience sees through it and sticks around

I have very good mods! Big shout out to all the lovely people on r/philosophytube and all the people who moderate my livestream chats!

I have a social media manager who can look out for hate and pre-emptively guard against it

I don't hitch my brand to other people. I sometimes do little collabs or appear at events with other creators but for the most part I fly solo. That means if another creator blows up or posts something awful I minimise my chances of cancellation-by-association. I'm friends with lots of creators but for the most part I keep it behind the scenes (Learned this one the hard way!)

I'm not a sex worker. Those people get hate like you wouldn't believe - the sex workers I know are the toughest folks I've ever met!

I'm not very fun to bully! I do get death threats and hate campaigns and people make fake porn of me and libel me and all that stuff - literally every day - I just never talk about it publicly so trolls don't get the satisfaction of seeing me get upset. I just mute and block and move on silently. When I have to talk to a lawyer or the police about someone causing a problem, I handle it behind the scenes

Platform size. When TERFs in British media go after someone they tend to pick on people smaller than them, cause they're bullies.

I built my platform slowly, so I've had time to adjust and get used to how it impacts my life

People have tried to cancel me in the past and it's blown up in their faces, e.g. the Trump Transition Tweet Incident and the B*ck A*gel Affair.

To be absolutely clear, a LOT of this is luck and privilege. I'm not trying to blame the victims of online harassment: yes, some of these factors are things I choose to do but not everyone is able to make those choices. It's also the unwinnable game of respectability politics: yes I might get less hate because of the way I dress or whatever, but fundamentally that won't protect me if I get arrested and sent to a men's prison. These things aren't a substitute for a more just distribution of power. There's also this final possible factor:

It just hasn't happened yet.

#The Jutsu #Do Not Tweet #And Still the Brand Endures

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infiniversegod · 6 months

Text

How I Personally Apply the Law of Assumption and Reality Shifting to my Life

Disclaimer: I am not stating that everyone must follow what I do in my spiritual journey and life nor am I claiming that this is the "only right way" to live your life. Everyone's life and spiritual journey is going to look different and unique. I'm just explaining what works for me!

Law of assumption: : I believe that imagination is the only real reality, and the physical is simply neutral and a reflection of imagination. Imagination is God, and we are God therefore we are imagination. There is nothing else to "do" since we are one with everything and everything is us, because everything comes from imagination. Reality is a living lucid dream and you are the lucid dreamer who has full control of everything in your reality. Anything and everything is possible there's no such thing as "impossible" or "fiction." Everything that we experience in the world around us comes from our assumptions. For example: You’re assume you have red hair by thinking/deciding you have red hair ➝It instantly becomes reality because everything is one as imagination. Creation is always finished therefore we already have what we want, and nothing is ever separate from us. "Techniques" and persistence exist to simply remind you that you already have your desires since everything comes from us (imagination). Personally I love to affirm and persist with the knowing that it's already mine and there's nothing else I need to do but persist on the fact that it's already mine because I am one with everything because everything is me (imagination). You can do whatever you want there's no "right" or "wrong" way to do things as the creator of your reality.

Reality shifting: I follow the multiverse theory of reality shifting. I believe that everything and anything is happening all at once in the Multiverse. In order to reality shift all you need to do is assume that you are in your DR, ex: I am now in_____ (now you are assuming and becoming aware that you are there!) and know that you are already there right now! Persisting is optional but it would be good to constantly remind you that you are at your DR right now. Reality shifting is always instant because we shift at every single decision we make. I personally believe that every time you manifest something no matter how “big or small” you are simply shifting to a reality where you already have that desire through your assumptions. I believe shifting and manifesting are the same thing.

#reality shifting #shifting #manifestation #manifesting #law of assumption #loa tumblr #loablr #loassumption #shiftblr #nonduality #nondualism #consciousness #imagination #multiverse #awareness #desired reality

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milksuu · 7 months

Note

Hello! What do you think about a scenario where Aphelios and reader meet in OSU or another game?

Like reader creates maps and uses songs that aphelios actually likes and so he ends up being the player that she always sees on her stat map charts with almost always being top 1. And one of them gets curious so they reach out on the app/netsite and they get to know each other?? Like kinda how they met and how their relationship would evolve over time. I'm not good with words but yeah!

❥ prompt: You were a revered OSU! map creator. He was a map farming legend. Especially your maps. He was always at the top of the stat charts. Praised or scrutinized, he was the daily hot topic in the /osu subforums. His username was the only thing you knew about him : m00ncake. You had no idea he would end up being Aphelios from the band Heartsteel. That's until he showed up at your job by accident, and you connecting the dots. Oh, did you forget to mention you worked at a maid café? ❥ content/warnings: fluffy fluff, mild hurt/comfort, minor angst (?) ❥ characters/pairings: Heartsteel!aphelios / f!reader

This was it. Your magnum opus! Once your song map hit the platform, thousands of players immediately clicked to dominate it. It wasn't going to be easy for them. You'd taken special care of making it more challenging than your previous maps....especially for one certain player.

m00ncake had a history of over-taking any map within the first try. After every song, there he was: placed at number one. With astronomical stats that would take days of practice for any top streamer to compete with. It's what made the whole scene that much more competitive.

But every gamer had their weakness. And you made this map specifically to exploit m00ncake. You had analyzed his replays. Over and over again. In the darkness of your room, till the desktop screen stung your eyes dry.

He was exceptionally good with rhythm, timing, and anything technical. If you could throw him off, even a little, you'd consider that a flawless victory. This time around you would delay the kick sliders, just by a fraction, before the uptick. The rhythm theoretically the same, but the minuscule margin of delay would throw any muscle memory built up from your previous maps alone.

You waited with baited breath. m00ncake played and finished your map. The stats were posted. Yet again, he proved to be the legend he was considered to be. Despite your best efforts. With the numbers alone, there was no way another player could possibly over-take him.

A few moments later, you received a direct message:

m00ncake: nice song. also fun map. can i ask a question?

You heart thumped inside your chest. Gulping, you allowed your fingers to type back:

mcreader: oh, thanks! and sure, go ahead. m00ncake: did you purposefully slow down the kick slider at certain parts? if you did, it was actually pretty challenging for me. i'm usually on auto-pilot so that kind of threw me off. haha

After that message, your friendship blossomed. Frequently messaging each other on the platform, to then adding each other on Discord. Whenever you posted a new map, m00ncake would call you, and have you listen to his insane key-board clicking sounds. The most intense ASMR one could experience, really.

It was always great to get feedback from him after he would finish. Being the professional OSU! player that he was, it was nice to get insight on possible map formations, songs, to just general technical suggestions. To no surprise, you both enjoyed the same style of music. It explained why his play history consisted of mostly your maps. Even your least popular ones.

But he never spoke. Not even a whisper. And you never pressed it. If he was just generally shy with speaking, you could understand. You didn't mind doing all of the talking, and him replying with short text, emojies or tts.

mcreader: i found a great song for a new map. but i have work now, so i'll probably do it later tonight. maybe post it if im not too sleepy. m00ncake: sounds good. i'm excited to play it when it comes out. i'm usually up at night so if you need some company, let me know. have a good day at work. ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

mcreader: will do! and tysm! have a good day too! ttyl! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

You pressed your phone to your lips. m00ncake was always so sweet, supportive, and always a treat to talk to (Well, text to). You just wished you knew his name. Or anything more about him, really. He was always very secretive. It made you wonder why.

When you made it to work, you dressed and fitted into your maid outfit along with the rest of the girls coming in for shift. You heard giggles and whispers, "Hey, did you see that guy that's at that one table? He looks just like Aphelios from Heartsteel!" Another girl wiggled excitedly, nodding her head. "Totally. But it's so hard to tell. He's got his mask on and has his hoodie up. No, there's no way it's not him. As a die-hard fan, I can tell!"

"That's enough, girls." The manager clapped her hands at attention. "Everyone already has their table assignments. And there will be no switching. Whether we have a special customer or not, we always provide excellence in our service. Understood?"

After learning your table assignments, you were ready for your shift. And looked like you were assigned the very table everyone seemed to want. Whines erupted around you. "How come she get's to serve Apehlios? I bet she doesn't even know who Heartsteel is." The mass of complaints silenced as the manager clapped her hands once more.

They were right. You weren't too knowledgeable on the up and coming band. But if they were right, then that made you all the more nervous. It wasn't everyday you served someone of musical prestige. You usually served single college guys, the occasional cute couple, or a group of high-school girls on a fun after school date.

"Welcome back, Master! It's an honor to serve you again today." You sang your rehearsed spiel at the customers table. 'Masters' were always treated as if they had come home from a long journey. "I'm glad you're back safely. You must be tired after being away from home so very long. Please, let me recharge you by taking your food and drink order."

What on earth? You almost broke character. You watched as the young man had his phone out, playing OSU! in the most casual way imaginable. He rolled his blood-moon eyes to acknowledge you, expression veiled. He placed his phone on the table, but his fingers continued to tap his screen while he scanned the heart-shaped menu.

D-Did he memorize the whole song!? The whole scene was out of this world. So distracted by this detail, you almost didn't realize he was trying to communicate. You looked down. He pointed and tapped a finger at his order. A lavender latte and dessert combo.

"Wonderful choice, Master. I'll let the fairy's know right away. Your dessert and drink will be out shortly."

You scurried away with the order. When you returned with a tray, you sought to investigate your customer a little more. It was customary to draw art on the latte foam. You smiled sweetly, drawing the shape of a rabbit. "I'm so happy you returned home, Master. I was so worried because it had been so long. Once I heard you were coming back, I couldn't help but be excited for today. The day when we would finally see each other again."

Honestly, you were just trying to ramble and waste time. He never bothered reacting to your whole gimmick. That gave you security to scan your eyes over his phone screen. Your breath hitched. His username...his username...his username...

m00ncake

You practically squirted the whole bottle of chocolate sauce on the table. Recovering with an innocent laugh, and wiped the table dry, and ran away to take cover in the employee's only section. You pulled out your phone and opened Discord:

mcreader: hey! super weird question, but um, what're you doing rn??????? m00ncake: ...me? just out and about. having something to eat. why ( ° - °) ??????? mcreader: i was just wondering, and im sorry if this is random but...is....is your name aphelios by chance?

After pressing send, you peeked around the corner. You watched as the young man tapped on his phone. After a pause, his eyes snapped wide. Panicked, he looked around the space. As if trying to find a proper response to your question.

It is you, you pressed your lips firmly together. You went back to his table and took his wrist, encouraging him to follow you. "Oh! Master, let me guide you to the restroom." You announced loudly, leading him away. You dragged him into the dressing room. Since next shift wasn't for a few more hours, no one would bother walking in.

"m00ncake, Aphelios--whoever you are. What're you doing here?" How embarrassing. If you ever decided to meet in person, you didn't want it to be like this. With you and your silly frilly outfit and cringey maid character (even though you did enjoy it). But this was way over the top than you imagined!

Aphelio's backed up slowly against a locker. He didn't say a word. Blinking wildly at your question. You pulled out your phone, revealing your Discord and OSU! conversations with him.

"You see this? That's you! And now I know that it's you...you're m00ncake...and Aphelio's from Heartsteel...and I-I'm..."

Why? Why? Why? Why couldn't he have been anyone else than a supposed famous idol star? Why couldn't he have been some normal guy with an obsession with online rhythm games? Someone weirdly normal, like you.

So why....why did you have to like someone so out of your league?

Girlish talk and laughter bounced outside the changing room door. Fearing the worst, you dragged you and Aphelio's into your clothing locker. You made shushing gestures to your lips, which was ironic, since you knew at this point he never said a word.

A couple of girls walked in, laughing to one another. "Wow, I can't believe I lost one of my hair ties. Thanks for letting me borrow yours." The other then replied, "No problem! I always keep spares in my bag. Hey, look. Whose headphones are these?"

In the frantic mess of your actions, Aphelio's lost his headphones. The pair continued to laugh and talk, wondering exactly where the headset even came from. You shifted your gaze upwards. And your heart squeezed horribly inside your chest.

Aphelio's had his eyes half-lided, almost closed. Breathing laboriously through his mask. He looked as if he was in pain. Flinching whenever one of the girls giggled too loudly, or the other raised their voice in excitement. In the condensed space, he had no room to move his arms and cover his ears.

Your eyes widened at the realization. This...this is all my fault. Carefully, you squeezed your arms up, cupping his ears in your hands. In this angle, your cheek condensed into his chest. You felt the erratic thumping of his heart. Slowly, it settled to a steady rhythm. The heaves of his chest dissipating to normal breaths.

When the girls finally left, you uncovered his ears, both slipping out of the locker. You picked up his headphones, adjusting them against his ears. You then fitted the hoodie over his head, wearing a sad smile, "I'm so sorry. About all that. About everything, really. Can...can you forget about today? And don't worry about paying for your meal. I'll cover it."

You didn't let him type or gesture a single word to you. Resuming character, you escorted him out of the maid café, with a take-home box in hand for his troubles.

Your shift dragged on. You didn't bother sending any messages to m00ncake. Or actually, Apehlios, you should say. And no messages came from him, either. Good...it's better this way. The two of you living in two separate worlds.

When end of shift came, the sky had darkened. With your dress bag slung over your shoulder, you left the café. When you stepped onto the sidewalk, someone familiar stood at the side.

"A-Aphelios, why did you..." before you finished, he messaged you on Discord. You opened the message:

m00ncake: i didn't want to forget about today. in fact, do you want to ride the train together?

You paused. A smile then formed across your lips. With a nod, you placed yourself at his side. In a comfortable silence, the two of you walked shoulder to shoulder. Your phone buzzed. Another ping:

m00ncake: i shouldn't probably say this but, i actually have a thing for girls in maid outfits. you can shove me in a locker and call me master anytime. (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

You blushed furiously, grabbing his arm and shaking it with a whine. Thinking maybe, just maybe, two totally different notes could be part of the same song.

an: omfg what a cute idea this was! honestly, im not versed in rhythm games, but i tried my best. maybe i went overboard too. thanks so much for the request @timetoeatthebread-blog!

#heartsteel #heartsteel x reader #aphelios #aphelios x reader #league of legends #LoL #league imagines #x reader #reader insert #reqs open

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