#*crosses this off of my comic to-do list*

[tartarusknight]

Steve had this habit, a habit which most of the party were annoyed by. They understood it, God did they understand. But after everything was over and the Upside Down was gone for good, it kept happening. Months and months of daily calls. Just Steve checking in and asking them about their day.

Mike hadn't understood why he was on the list of names Steve would call, but if he didn't pick up the phone, there would be a knock on the door within the hour. And Steve, sometimes followed by Robin, would stop by like he was that important to them. Once, it had been on their way to work, and Steve had only locked eyes with him and raised an eyebrow. Mike just flipped him off and continued reading his comic.

Dustin had told him it was Steve's way of coping, and Lucas had turned the calls into workouts with the older teen. Will had just gone a little red and nodded along. El smiled and told Mike about the tips for hair care she got. Max just rolled her eyes and said that Steve had taken to stopping by with food most days.

Steve would be there. He was always there. It was annoying, but it was a constant. Maybe that's why Mike laid awake as the clock ticked closer and closer to midnight. Normally, he could fall asleep within minutes, a habit he had inherited from his dad. But he could bring himself to sleep as his phone didn't ring. As the walkie stayed silent. As the door remained untouched, no knock to be heard.

And it was stupid. Because Mike didn't want Steve to call him every day just to ask him if he was okay. It made him feel like a kid. It reminded Mike of his mom, but even his mom wasn't that bad. No, no one really did that for Mike. No one checked in day after day even as he remained uncaring towards them. No one but Steve.

Until now...

Mike watched the clock as it passed midnight, and his stomach twisted into knots. Fear bubbled up, and he pictured Steve getting into a fight he couldn't walk away from. He pictured a car crash so great that Steve was unable to reach for the walkie he carried with him everywhere. He pictured the worst- the Upside Down still around. The demogorgon coming up and dragging Steve into that hellpit.

Mike was up and pulling on a warm sweatshirt before those images were fully formed. He crawled out his window and down the roof, not too unlike the way Steve had done to visit Nancy. It left him already out of breath by the time he climbed on his bike. But that didn't stop him. He pushed off the ground, biking as fast as he could towards Loch Nora.

The cold air hot his face, and the road seemed to go on forever, but Mike didn't stop. He couldn't stop. Not until Steve's place was in view.

Mike tossed his bike uncarringly onto the pavement before slamming his fist into the Harrington's nice door. He didn't let up. He couldn't as an image of Steve dead in his own pool floated in his mind.

However, then the door was opening. Steve stood there, looking like he hadn't been asleep either. A smear of white powder on his cheek and a hollowness in his eyes. But still, something eased in Mike the same time Steve lost some of that weight in his shoulders as well. "You- you didn't-" Mike started, still out of breath. "Call. Why didn't you- call?" He gasped and Steve looked at him with a weird expression.

"You- What?" Steve questioned, sounding lost.

Mike crossed his arms, "I- you can't just stop!" He gasped out, and Steve's brow furrowed.

"But you don't like it when I do? I annoy you," he tries to point out, and Mike huffs.

"God, of course you annoy me! You track our days more intensly than my mom, and you always make dumb jokes, and I hate that I find them funny! You always call when I'm in the middle of something, and you make it easy to stay on the phone! You are always there like some weird older brother that I never asked for!" Mike shouts and Steve's eyes are wide.

"You don't have to stay around or call, but you do! You do, and you actually care. Like when you call and ask me if I'm okay, it feels like you care, and I don't understand why! I don't get you! I didn't ask you to care about me, but even when you were dating Nancy, you cared! You took Holly and me to get ice cream even though Nancy had to study! You give me and my friends rides everywhere! You care!" Mike throws his hands up in the air.

He glares at the older teen, "You care so much that I stupidly care about you! I care enough to come and check on you because when you didn't call, all I could think was that you were like dead or something," Mike snaps and takes a step back. "But you're obviously fine so-" and he wants to run suddenly. To run from the way Steve's eyes are filled with tears or the stupid words he just told the older teen.

Steve runs a hand through his hair, tugging slightly. "Mike, I stopped because I didn't think you wanted me to. You always acted like I was your least favorite person in the world and I guess I just- I didn't feel like it was fair to force you to put up with me just because I can't handle not knowing if you were okay." Steve said, and it didn't sound like the normal Steve. He sounded tired and nervous. He sounded like someone had finally beaten him

Mike bites his lip and tastes salt like he had been crying. Or maybe he still was. He crosses his arms like he can shield himself from this conversation. "But now you don't care enough to keep calling?"

Steve rubbed his face, a sigh shaking his whole body as he did. "I still care, kid."

Mike scoffs, "You didn't call."

Steve drops his hands to his sides. "Just come inside. It's too late for you to bike home. I'll call your place and leave a message." Steve says, his voice sounding close to tears. Mike is stiff when he lets Steve pull him inside.

They are quiet as Steve guides him towards the kitchen. The kitchen that has music playing softly and smelling like a bake sale. He blinks as he steps into the room and spots cookies cooling on a rack and a pie stilling uncooked on the counter. The top crust is sitting on the counter next to it. There's a smell of something in the oven, and Mike states at all of it in confusion.

"I bake when I can't relax," Steve admits, and Mike glances over at him. "I still care, and I was trying to give you space. I was trying not to crowd you, so I just," and he waves his hand around the mess everywhere. The smear of white on his cheek now makes sense.

Mike hugged himself, "I don't- I don't mind the calls." He whispered, and it got a snort from Steve.

He looked over at Mike, "I kinda got that from your speech."

They stood there in silence for another moment before Steve moved to finish putting his pie together. "I know that we aren't close or anything. But I care, it's not just the Upside Down making me anxious, it's just that-" and Steve went quiet. "I went overboard, I get it. But now I just- I can't stop." He admits, and Mike hates how upset Steve sounds. How guilty he sounds.

"I fall asleep easier knowing that if someone wasn't okay, we'd know because of you. It's like you take all the stress from me just by being around." He says, and Steve's eyes are wide. "Maybe we just do a sound off every night so you don't have to play phone tag all day." He shrugs, and Steve wrinkles his nose.

"I don't really get how to use the walkie. Like Dustin tried to show me, but he got distracted and started talking about radio waves and well..." Steve mimed it going over his head.

Mike snorted to hide how much that terrified him. The thought of something bad happening and Steve not being able to respond. But he pushed it away as Steve looked at him as if waiting for Mike to tease him. "That's fair. We did modify them, so they worked better. It's not as simple as your average walkie. I can show you," he offered, and Steve's face split into a grin.

"Cool, want to help me finish this so I can put it in the fridge until tomorrow? Then you can teach me the ways," Steve says, going all dramatic, proving to Mike he'd been spending too much time with Eddie. Mike groaned but came over only for Steve to shove him to the sink to wash his hands.

Steve showed him what to do, and Mike was glad to have Steve around. Because sure Steve's habit was annoying, and sometimes it interfered with Mike's plans, but it was nice too. Steve was nice. And that was something Mike ever believed would happen. But as Steve joked that Mike should not become a baker, he was nice. Like the way Mike was nice to Holly or how Nancy was nice to him. He was part of the family, annoyingly nice habits and all.

#stranger things #mike wheeler #steve harrington #trauma response #mike needs a hug #steve needs a hug #knightly talks

[rinhaler]

DEATH IS NO MORE !

you know you shouldn't be here, right? what would possess you to visit an underground fight club? one of the fighters is kinda cute though...

✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ underground fighter!ryomen sukuna x f!reader

Genre: porn with a plot Notes: ty penny for beta reading again! picturing sukuna like this art by @innaillus bc i have had nothing else on my mind for days. Warnings: 18+, fem!reader, violence, blood ♡, daddy!kink, size difference ♡, age gap, degradation, fingering, orgasm denial, pussy spanks, dacryphilia, finger sucking, vaginal sex, choking ♡, creampie, squirting ♡, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby). Words: 10k

As your heels snap against the pavement, you can almost feel the pulsing bass from the music surge from your toes and throughout your entire nervous system. The music is loud enough to hear, even from a distance, and it only gets louder as you step closer and closer to the abandoned warehouse.

You shouldn’t be here.

The voice is yours, internally. Though it feels like an out of body experienced as you venture head first towards a destination you have no business being anywhere near. The music muddies your thoughts. It’s confusing you, deeply.

Is there a dress code?

That doesn’t matter, because you shouldn’t be here.

The bass is hypnotic. That pounding bass that makes you feel weak and ethereal all in one dizzying bout. It’s like you’re going to a rave, though you’re not even close to being dressed the part. You’ve been at work all day. The last thing you should be doing is trespassing into a building that has been off limits for five years.

You just couldn’t resist, this.

Not with the rumours flying around and the hushed whispers of secrecy luring you in to investigate for yourself.

With the double doors in sight, you finally see that the entrance is being manned. Is it security or just a ticket holder? You aren’t sure you want to find out. They might take one look at you and shoo you away. There’s no way you can leave until you get what you came for.

You slip out of sight as you see another pair of men get out of a car parked near the entrance and approach. Your breathing is egregious, though you try to calm it. The adrenaline swirling through your every vein and muscle is enough to make you pass out. But the agonising desire to enter and see the truth for yourself is holding you steady.

$100 for a ticket.

“Christ.” you whisper to yourself.

You put your hand in your pocket and fish out your purse. As you open it and begin to look, you halt. The way your hands are trembling is abnormal, even for being this worked up. The pumping of your heart transfers to your brain. The pink, mushy organ pounds dramatically against the inside of your skull, and really, you think melodic beat of the music inside must be slithering its way into the creases of your braincells.

There’s a pain behind your eyes. You feel a migraine coming on and you’re all too familiar with the agonising feeling as you often leave your work days suffering from them.

You deepen your breaths in a bid to steel yourself. And eventually, you find the money to pay the fee. So you wait, patiently, for the other two men to enter the warehouse before you reveal yourself from the shadows. There’s an air of confidence to you as you approach the entrance.

Though it fades, slightly, as the man holds his hand up like a crossing guard.

“Women don’t come around here,” he starts, checking a clipboard that looks too small in his comically large hands. He flips through the pages and then looks at you again. “You’re not on the list.”

“I have the fucking money.” you tell him, slapping it on top of his stupid clipboard hard enough for him to almost drop it. He tries to stop you as you attempt to barge by him, though it isn’t a strict action.

More like a warning.

“It’s not a sight a lady should see, I think.” he tells you, still putting your hard earned money into a tin of other generous donations, you expect. His eyes focus on your own as he continues to speak. “You’re rich. Expensive clothes… shouldn’t have worn those here. Gets messy. Be careful.” he tells you. And with that, you enter the warehouse and heed his warning.

You walk slowly, but with purpose. A chill stabs down your spine as you approach a flight of stairs a group of men are running down. They wolf whistle upon seeing you and it curdles in your stomach. You try to keep your head held high as you climb and follow the sound of that intoxicating bass. Wherever the music is coming from is surely the source of the action, too.

The time of day is indicative of the lighting. It’s pitch black outside and it it’s even darker, still, in the warehouse. Though the moonlight manages to break in through the shattered windows enough to illuminate your path.

There’s a smell that you’re beginning to notice that invades your senses. A potent stench that is so specifically masculine and territorial. It’s sweat. Blood, too.

Once you get to the top of the stairs, there are double doors with a red light bleeding through the cracks. The music is louder, too, as well as the vociferous shouting being contained solely by the big, heavy duty doors.

And now, truly, you worry things have gone too far. The doors part and you slink into the shadows, still approaching without hesitation. You’re scared. God, terrified, really. But the adrenaline keeps you from retreating. There’s one goal you have in mind, and once complete, you can return back to your peaceful, suburban life.

A man holds the door as he waits for a friend to leave with him. You watch them walk away together, bragging about their earnings before you slip inside inconspicuously.

The red light contrasts from the rest of the building. And you think your retinas might explode from the change, you don’t let it divert your attention, though. But it’s hard to deny how distracted you are.

As the atmosphere has changed you begin to feel heady from the scent of sweat and testosterone. You do your best to continue undetected as you try to keep to the edges of the crowd. But a few eyes find you. Nudging and laughing when they see a woman, God forbid, enter their sacred male space. You notice there’s no malice mostly. It’s more leering and ogling despite doing all you can to not give them any attention or feed into their sex drive.

But you scream.

Scream could even be an understatement as you feel a tight squeeze on your upper arm flesh yank you away from the crowd and into the background of the room. Your adrenaline seems to die the instant one red eye matching the ambient lighting filling the room like a brothel in a red light district stare into yours.

Half of his face is covered by some sort of black mask.

Protecting his battle wounds, you assume.

There are a few laughs and stares before they’re pulled back to the main attraction. There’s a feeling of embarrassment rushing through you, but you can barely dwell on it as you look up at the man who had dragged you away so carelessly.

He’s easily the tallest man you’ve ever met. At least 6’5 and towering above you like you’re a puny child as you try and stand confidently beneath him. But the little gasp you emit when he bends down to whisper in your ear gives you away, instantly. He smirks, knowing just how scared you are. He knows just how worried you are and how out of your depth you are.

“And just what is a fragile little thing like you doing in my club?” he asks, a tantalising lilt in his words that would have your knees folding like outdoor furniture if you didn’t have one reason and one reason alone for being here. He pulls away from your ear, an intimidating glare staring back at you as he waits for an answer. “You don’t look like you can fight. Not that I’d allow it, anyway.” he tells you.

“I’m looking for someone.” you blurt out, unsure if you should have said that or kept it to yourself. It’s too late, now, and you see a sadistic smile transform his ravenous expression into one of sheer entertainment.

“Oh? Don’t tell me you’ve got a boyfriend you’re worried about fighting here.” he laughs, and it doesn’t go unnoticed how his eyes move from your face to your breasts. They’re covered, entirely. The decision to wear a turtleneck for work has come back to bite you as the sweltering heat feels enough to knock you unconscious.

It’s suffocating.

He isn’t really looking at your tits, however. His eyes instead seem to hone in on the silver necklace you’re wearing. And you can see how his eyes squint as he tries to think of anyone fighting here who’s initial begins with M before letting his dirty mind race at the thought of the letter slipping between your cleavage had you opted to wear something a little more revealing.

“You look like a cop, sweetheart. Not a good place for you to be all by yourself.” he informs you. A cop? You hadn’t even thought about how you’d stand out in that way. “I don’t need the fuzz poking around here, what do you want?” he asks, his voice a little more pointed and venomous as he raises your necklace with a single finger to toy with it.

If you weren’t so frozen in fear, you would have backed away and hid your necklace down your sweater. But you were scared, statuesque. The only movement you were able to perform was moving your lips.

A pretty trait for you to possess, he thinks.

“My brother is here, I think.” you tell him, calmly, hoping your honesty will earn you some favour in his eyes. His eyebrow quirks as he thinks about you possessing a family resemblance to anyone here. “He’s underage.”

He smiles at that. The pieces suddenly all fall into place as he knows exactly who you’re talking about. And he parts space between you both, grabbing the collar of your white, wool coat and pulling you along with him. The two of you get through the crowd with ease until you’re standing at the front.

A shriek leaves you as the losing opponent hurtles towards you, though your self-appointed escort gets in his way before your clothes can become ruined by the blood that has now smeared on your saviour’s skin. You’re sure he’s thankful that he wore a black vest so that you can’t really see the stains on it. Realistically, he probably doesn’t care, you think.

He wouldn’t be running a fight club if he cared about something as tedious as stains.

As he moves out of the way to reveal the victor, your own blood begins to simmer and spill from you. Megumi raises his arms triumphantly, spitting a glob of blood onto the ground next to the wounded man he’s evidently just beaten to a bloody, unconscious puddle. And you could tear his head off with your bare teeth with the rage that you feel.

But you can’t.

Not when the man who led you here steps into the makeshift ring of people surrounding them and hands him his earnings. And your brother smiles, gratefully, as he accepts and counts it.

“There’s someone here to see you, kid.” he tells him, tilting his head in your direction. Your foot taps against the dirty warehouse floor as you wait for him to notice you. And boy does he notice you. “Oh, are you that scared of her?” he laughs, noticing all of the colour draining from Megumi’s face as he processes the fact that you’re here. That you’re really here.

“The fuck are you doing here?!” he asks, running up to you and attempting to conceal the money as best he can. But it’s too late, you snatch it from his hand and look at him with contempt.

“Me? What are you doing here?! You’re seventeen! You’re not Tyler fucking Durden, Megumi.” you slap him upside the head and drag him away from the crowd. “I’m furious, I don’t even know where to start with you.” you tell him as you approach the heavy doors that are keeping this disgusting little community trapped in the sweaty, blood soaked room.

“Get off.” he shakes himself loose. “I left my stuff in Sukuna’s office.” he announces, leaving before you give him permission. You huff, following him up the steel stairs as you continue your onslaught of verbal abuse and anger at his sheer stupidity.

He should see a doctor, really. But you worry he’ll get in trouble if the police get involved. And he might end off worse, still, if he rats out this place and gets everyone else in trouble. It’s too much, you know you’ll have to cover for him.

You could cry, now. But you aren’t sure if it’s anger or genuine upset. And honestly, you don’t want him to see you cry over this. Weakness is not something you need him to see right now, you want to keep it together. You’re his guardian and you can’t be soft with him just because he’s your brother.

He picks up his gym bag from a locker in the room. Your eyes are laser focused on him, all of the trust you felt towards him is long gone. And now, you aren’t sure if you’ll ever be able to take your eyes off him again.

“Megumi… how did you even get involved with this?” you ask him, earning nothing more than an infuriated grunt as if you have no right asking. How dare you care about him and his wellbeing when you’re all each other have? You want to scream, to fucking scream at him for being such an idiot. “I thought you were getting bullied at school. I asked you if—”

“Drop it. Can we just go?” he asks.

“Tsk.” you kiss your teeth. Your gaze suddenly stolen as the man you can only presume is Sukuna walks into the office like he owns the place. He does. You close the distance between yourself and Megumi as his sadistic boss sits on a comfy looking chair behind an old battered desk. “Give me your phone. Go wait in the car. Do not go anywhere.” you warn him as you hand him the car keys.

He sighs, placing his phone in your hand before turning to leave. You don’t look at him, though, too focused on Sukuna to even pay him any mind.

Your blood continues to boil, bubbling under the surface of your skin as you look at Sukuna. A smarmy smirk plastered on his face as he kicks his feet up onto the desk. So, Megumi leaves. He knows better than to push you when you’re this pissed.

“Before you start, princess,” Sukuna stands back up and circles around the desk. Your eyes vibrate with fury as you watch him, backing up as he gets too close. “I didn’t force him to do this.”

“Don’t call me princess.” you tell him, shutting down the cutesy pet name in an instant the minute you get an opening to speak. You rest you hand on your hip as you point at him furiously. It’s rude, you know it’s rude, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not after seeing your little brother like that. “He’s just a kid. I don’t want him involved in this stuff, I’m trying to be a good role model and you’re fucking everything up. He’s not coming back, ban him.”

“Fuck no.” he chortles. “He might be a kid but he’s good. I pay well. ‘n I like him, I do. He’s a moody little brat but he makes me laugh and earns me a shit ton. I’m not banning him for you. Or anyone.”

“Maybe I should call the police, see what they have to say about all of this.” you threaten, immediately regretting it, when the smile drops from his face and is replaced with something akin to bemusement. He hadn’t expected you to threaten him. But the incredulous stare is soon replaced by another smile.

“You wouldn’t risk getting Megumi in trouble… nice try though.” he speaks, leaning back against his desk and crossing one ankle over the other as he folds his arms. He’s thinking. Genuinely thinking of a way to compromise. “What do you do?”

“I’m… a doctor.” you tell him. Earning a set of raised eyebrows and an amused scoff as he looks you over once more. He supposes it explains the fancy clothes and snooty attitude.

But—

“You’re too young to be a doctor, aren’t you?” he wonders.

“I’m a primary care physician.” you tell him. He nods in understanding, but you’re confused now. You shake away his questions and his interest in you before staring at him again with intent. “This needs to stop. I’m not going to call the police but I’m not letting my brother come back here, it’s too dangerous. He’s a child.”

“He’s a man, you’re babying him. He made three grand tonight, he’s earning money and staying out of trouble because he has an outlet for his anger.” Sukuna tells you. The amount of money he’s made surprises you, and you’re holding it in your coat pocket right now. He’s going to be down $100 after you take it out of his earnings, though. But still. Even you can’t deny that it’s impressive. “Stuck up princess. Snooty doctor. Think you can come in my fuckin’ club and tell me what to do? Fuck that.” Sukuna claims.

He doesn’t say anything else as he waits for you to speak. But, truthfully, you’re still thinking about Megumi. The fact that he needs an outlet for his anger is worrisome. You’ve tried to get him to see a therapist, but he isn’t interested in the least.

It’s been hard being a single parent to him when you’re too selfish and irresponsible to even look after yourself, let alone a teenage boy. He probably thinks you’re useless. You have no control over him, really. All you do is make sure he’s fed and has a place to sleep and get his school work done.

But after discovering this, you’re sure he hasn’t even been bothering to attend school.

“Oi.” Sukuna speaks, stealing your stare again as you’re finally brought out of your troubled gaze. “You’re a sheltered little princess, aren’t you? A place like this is just full of scum to you.”

“I don’t care about this.” you laugh, minimally, not really seeing the funny side but you have nothing else to offer by way of expression. He hesitates a little, seeing the defeated look in your eye. “The injuries and psychological damage these places can cause…”

“Not everyone’s got a fancy college education like you, girl.” he tells you, patronisingly, as if you don’t know that. But he doesn’t let you interrupt. “Some people need a quick buck to get out of trouble. Other’s like the thrill. But who the fuck are you to come into my club and tell us all we’re wrong? Comin’ in here in your doctor clothes… looking down your nose at us.”

“That’s not—”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what you’re doin’, sweetheart.” he continues. “You get to sit behind a desk all day and tell people what pills to take to feel better and then go home to your cosy house in the suburbs without a care in the world.”

“Don’t fucking patronise me.” you warn him, though you don’t have the muscle or means to back it up. He reminds you a lot of how your dad used to be. You didn’t particularly take shit from him, and you certainly won’t be taking it from Sukuna if you can help it. “If you’re letting a seventeen year old walk away with three grand, I’m sure you’re making a lot more money than I am behind my desk. I work hard. You’re lining your pockets from other people’s pain.”

“Only a little,” he smirks at that, knowing you’re right but not entirely. “I fight. I bleed.”

And you scoff. It’s so fucking archaic and you can’t help but pace around with your hands on your hips as you try and decide where to even start with that. What can you say, really? Congratulations? No, definitely not. You stop in your tracks as you realise how close he is to you, now, deciding he wanted to close the gap between the two of you while your mind was elsewhere.

You breathe a little heavier as you fall backwards onto the couch behind you while he towers above you. His eyes rake over your body as he drinks you in. The slight fear lingering below the surface, shrouded by a cloud of false confidence as you do all you can to not succumb to his intimidation.

His arms almost cage you in.

Almost.

He’d let you free yourself if you tried to escape.

But you aren’t trying.

You’re just staring into his eye.

And he likes that.

“Watch me.” he orders. The sentence is soft but with a hard, seductive edge. It’s an offer despite it sounding like a command. You aren’t sure what he’s asking you to watch but your heart rate is imploring you to decline, whatever it may be. He tilts his head, it’s barely noticeable, and somehow you do notice. You notice the way his eye flits from your eyes to your lips. Not once, multiple times. He has no shame, he doesn’t care that you know he’s looking. He doesn’t act on it, anyway. “Watch me fight.”

“Pardon?” you ask, instantly. Bewildered that he would even dare to dream that you’d do something so idiotic. Your brother is waiting, patiently, for you to take him home. Unless he’s stolen your car, of course. But you’d like to think he knows he’s in enough trouble than to do something so stupid.

“You’ve never seen a fight. Watch the best at work, you might change your opinion. Watch me.” he repeats.

He watches as your eyes glaze over with a watery sheen, smirking. There is a breeze left in the wake of him quickly freeing your body from his caging arms and heading towards the entrance to his office. Your breathing is intense and your hands begin to shake. You think to text Megumi and check he’s okay, before remembering that you have his phone.

You look over your shoulder to see Sukuna leaning over the railing. He’s yelling about something but your ears are ringing in your confusion. The music isn’t helping, either. You look down at your phone to check the time, not even really taking it in before you place both Megumi’s and your own in each of your pockets.

Sukuna returns, entering with a cool swagger before leaning on the edge of his desk again.

“You’ve got ten minutes to decide.” he tells you.

Decide?

You’ve already decided. There’s no way you’re sticking around to watch him beat someone within an inch of their life. Or vice versa if his opponent proves to be too much. But with his physique and confidence, you doubt he’ll lose. And almost as if he’s read your mind, he smirks.

“I’m going to win.” he informs you, a cocksure grin saturating his lips as he drinks in your reaction to his words. You cross a leg over the other and fold your arms, still determined to remain and appear defiant as you listen to him. He can sense you’re weakening resolve, though. “I always win, princess.”

“Don’t call me that.” you remind him, and he tuts in response. You can’t tell him what to do. You can try, but he won’t listen. And he hears the wavering in your words. Your desire to appear cold and callous towards him crumbling the longer you spend time in such close proximity to him.

“I think you like it.” he tells you, smiling. “Why are you still here?”

“I’m thinking.” you tell him in turn, scowling as you decide whether or not to leave right now or actually think this through. If you leave, you know your pride won’t allow you to change your mind.

“Don’t have all night for you’re thinkin’, doll.” he speaks. “Oh… I know, how about we make a little wager?”

“No.”

“Awe, c’mon, live a little.” he laughs, menially. He smirks as he hears you gasp whilst lifting you up like you’re nothing. He sits you down on his desk and for some reason you find yourself tightly wrapping your legs around his waist. Your chest heaves, panicked from the process. You aren’t sure how that happened and you can’t seem to shake any of it away. Not when your fingernails are digging into his biceps and your lips are ghosting each other’s. What is he doing? “How about if I lose, I’ll tell Megumi he can’t come around here anymore.”

“You said you’ll win.”

He smirks, at that. Scarred hands nip and grab at your entirely covered flesh. He wishes he could just rip the material off you right here, right now. But he wouldn’t feel right about sending you to your car in torn clothing, telling your little brother exactly what kept you busy for so long.

“That, I did…” he speaks as if recollecting an ancient memory. But he looks at you, eyes traversing your body again. “So what—”

“’m not betting with you. I know you’re gonna win.” you tell him, moving your head back slightly so your lips are no longing tracing each other. Instead, you’re looking at him intently. “You’re just trying to get me to agree to something that I won’t be able to back out of. ‘m not stupid.”

“No, you’re not stupid.” he agrees. He tucks some hair behind your ear and grabs your chin so that you can’t break your stare from his own. “I know we both want the same thing right now, though. That pride will do you no good, y’know.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you lie, feigning ignorance as the heat between your legs begins to pool and seep into your panties. You hope he doesn’t notice. God you hope he doesn’t fucking feel it. You hope that your trousers will protect you, the fight should be starting soon. “I’m taking my brother home… but I hope you enjoy your little fight.”

“You’re not going anywhere or you would have left already.” he tells you, matter-of-fact. “The things I could say… I’m gonna say it all after I win.”

“I won’t be here. ‘n I’m not giving you my number.”

“You’ll be in the front fucking row watching me.” he sneers.

You inhale a sharp breath as he forcefully moves your head. A finger hooks into the collar of your turtleneck, lazily pulling it downward to reveal the bare skin of your neck. His lips are close, breath dancing over the expanse of your skin. It’s a battle to withhold the shudder that is creeping through your veins. It makes your eyes water, a tear threatens to spill but you refuse to let it. You weld your eyes shut as he continues to torment you, and they appear even more watery when you open them again. The way your body trembles is harder to mask, though it’s nearly imperceptible as you accept you need to release it. All you can do is hope that he hasn’t noticed.

But he does.

The intensity of your breathing increases as you think he might kiss your neck. Your eyes flutter shut in preparation, but all he does is tease. And when you feel a near empty chuckle fan across your neck, your eyes widen once more.

“It’s time, princess.” he tells you, pulling away completely. He doesn’t wait for you to respond, heading towards the exit to his office before turning back to face you. “Come.”

And like you’re a voice activated toy, you follow him. He quick steps down the stairs while you struggle in your heels. You cling to the railing as you descend, and he waits patiently for you at the bottom.

He’s agnate to a God in this warehouse. You see how people respect and admire him as he enters the room. People part for him so that he can walk through with ease with you in tow. You’re really going to watch an authentic fight.

You wonder how different it will be in comparison to movies. You’re scared, shaking, but part of you is telling you that you need to see it. You need to see the state that Megumi could one day end up in if you don’t scold him correctly.

“Should I go easy on him, sweetheart?” he asks, loud enough for the crowd to hear. “She’s going to decide your fate tonight, listen up.” Sukuna tells his opponent. You want to kill him yourself for drawing everyone’s attention to you. You struggle to find words, mouth drying every time it opens.

“Just… don’t kill him.” you shrug. “But don’t get yourself killed, either.”

He laughs, shrugging his shoulders too. Neither of them look scared, though you suppose that’s the point. Neither of them would be doing this if they didn’t think they could win. They wouldn’t be here if they were afraid of getting hurt.

“She wants me to go easy on you…” Sukuna smirks.

You watch, nervously, as they circle around the ring for a while. He looks at you, briefly, as you fiddle with your necklace as you try and occupy your mind.

A ragged breath leaves you as they both lunge at each other. The way Sukuna dodges and weaves away from each and every attempt that should be hitting him is almost like watching a beautiful ballet.

It’s art, here.

Between these walls and amongst this audience. It is a true art form that is celebrated and enjoyed. The casualties don’t matter, not even a little. Everyone is a willing participant, even you, now. You could have left but decided not to.

It’s for Megumi, you tell yourself.

You need to be better and act better for him. And you can’t possibly do that without the knowledge of how truly dangerous this can be.

But now, seeing it for yourself, you’re starting to understand.

Sukuna is strong. Heavy fists affix themselves to his opponents face again and again until he’s on the ground. Blood pours from the man’s nose and you think he might suffocate from lost teeth and gurgling blood pooling in his throat.

And Sukuna… he’s been starved of this.

You start to think that maybe he doesn’t fight as regularly as he claims. It seems too easy for him, now. No one can beat him, so what’s the point? But he has missed this feeling. The feeling of seeing blood gush from an adversary who whole-heartedly believed they could take him on.

He takes pleasure in it, violence. Particularly the brand inflicted by him. He profits from it regularly, but this is a rare treat nowadays. He’s happy to sit in his office and let idiots do what idiots do as long as his pockets and wallet fill with each event.

This fight… it was on a whim.

Was it just to impress you?

He straddles his opponent as he repeatedly smashes the same fist into his face again and again and again. And he’s laughing. It’s maniacal, borderline insane laughter as you see blood spatter and clots form and congeal against the poor man’s skin.

And why…

Why are you loving this?

You can practically feel hearts and glitter adorning your eyes as you watch on in horror, unable to turn away. You’re mesmerised by it. You should be ashamed, really, you’re meant to be a doctor.

If you were a good person, you’d be breaking this up. You’d be rushing to the man’s side and calling an ambulance to help him. Instead of watching on in astonishment, you should be doing all you can to keep him alive after such a vicious assault. But instead, you’ve sunken to the balls of your feet so that you can be on their level and watch each and every punch land with excruciating detail. You don’t want it to stop. You could watch this forever.

Watch him forever.

You’re sick.

This is sick.

“Sukuna!” you yell, standing upright again and looking down at him. He stops short of landing one final blow to his opponents bulging and split nose so that he can look up at you. There’s worry in your eyes, and it makes his brows furrow. His eyes squint as he examines you. He isn’t sure how to read you or what you might be thinking. But he realises worry isn’t the only thing lingering behind those glimmering, wide eyes.

Something else entirely resides there that he’s longed to see since the moment he set eyes on you.

“Sorry, I got carried away.” he speaks down to the near dead man beneath him. “Were you done or did you want to keep going?”

“D… Don—”

“Thaaaaat’s great.” he responds to the man’s choked attempt to end the fight. Sukuna jumps to his feet, barely a scratch on him, and walks by you without looking back. You hasten behind him, almost unable to keep up in your stupid shoes. You see a man hand him something before walking away. You scrunch your brows as you look between them both.

Oh, he’s been paid.

He reaches the top of the stairs to his office and holds the door open for you to pass through. You duck by him, hiding in the room like you shouldn’t be there. You shouldn’t. You feel so small and inconsequential when you’re near him.

It’s his height, you realise.

It’s effortless intimidation. He’s a giant and you have to crane your neck just to look up at him when he’s close to you. His giant frame and bulging muscles don’t put you at ease, either. If you make him mad enough, you wonder how far he’d go. Would he use his strength to his advantage? Maybe he’d just take pity on you.

“You’re still here.” he rasps, locking the door behind himself and closing the blinds to the room. He likes the privacy as he counts his money. It excites you, for some reason, to see so much in a big fat wad. He looks up at you briefly before focusing back on it. “You liked it.”

“No.”

“Yeah ya did,” he laughs. You watch him as he collects a heavy looking bag from another locker in the room. It’s different to the one Megumi used. It looks shinier, newer. Sturdier. “I can tell you liked it.”

“Well, I’m going now.” you start, turning to walk away before he stretches out an arm to stop you in your tracks. He walks you backwards until your ass collides into the edge of his desk. He doesn’t pick you up, though. He just sizes you up, slowly, purposefully. And what a pathetic size you are in comparison to him. “Megumi needs me…” you whisper, meekly.

His presence is truly all consuming as he lords above you. You’re trapped between his large frame and the tattered old desk that resides in this seedy office. He could afford something nicer. But what would be the point if the place gets raided?

“We wanted the same thing earlier,” he starts. His voice quiet but commanding, still. You look between his lips and his pressuring gaze. He smiles, at that, he can see the way your mind is running rampant with thoughts of him. The dirty criminal who wants to fuck you on his desk. “Bet ya want it even more now.”

“N-No.”

“Yes.” he argues, placing a bloody hand on your pristine coat and making a mess of it. His hand snakes around to your waist, eventually. You gasp when you feel him tug your body closer to his by your belt loops, grinning as the little noise you make hits his ears. “Stutterin’ over yours words and making pretty sounds for me, sweetheart. Did you get all excited from seeing the blood? Bet ya did… bet you’re wet from seein’ daddy get violent.”

You gulp, heartily, your breathing gets heavier the more he speaks. His words rush straight to your cunt and you can barely ground yourself. The only thing keeping you from floating is your fingers curling around the edge of the desk as he continues to tease you.

“You’re fucking frigid.” he continues. Your eyes begin to water as he undoes the button on your pants and goes to pull down the zipper. You grab his hands to stop him, though it’s in vain. “Why are you so frigid, huh? When was the last time you had a good, hard, fuck?” he asks you, each word dripping like venom in a bid to make you squirm.

“That’s none of your—”

“Stop being such a bitch.” he tells you, slight laughter leaving him as he speaks. “Let me guess… got too occupied with your career, right? Bet you had a long term boyfriend who wouldn’t know how to fuck you properly if his life depended on it. ‘n then you got saddled with the kid… bought a vibrator and a plastic cock ‘n thought that would make do… you’ve never been fucked before.”

“Stop it.” you tell him. You turn your head away but he quickly forces it back with one heavy, dominating hand. “I have to go.”

“Sure.” he agrees, not letting go or moving aside for you to leave.

Nothing is said, not another word. Several beats of silence pass by as you stare at each other. The hypnotic music continues to play outside, though it’s muffled slightly by the locked office door. It isn’t enough to mask how hard either of you are breathing. Panting. Unable to break your stare from each other as the silence, that cogent fucking silence gets louder and louder.

Not another word is spoken as his lips press roughly against your own. You kick off your shoes and he kicks them aside as you continue to kiss him. Your hands are all over his body, grabbing and squeezing his skin as you lose yourself to the feeling of his lips. He forces down your trousers so that they’re resting around your thighs before lifting you onto the desk. You moan, desperately, as he breaks the kiss to fully remove them from your legs.

He lets them fall and kicks them away in the opposite direction of your shoes. The kiss breaks once more as he laughs lightly as your hips begin to rock eagerly for him.

“Knew you were wet for me earlier, y’know.” he tells you, kissing you briefly before deciding to tease you further. “Felt how your cunt was droolin’ when I lifted you on here before.”

“You’re vile.” you tell him, not caring that much as you lock your lips with his again. His attitude, the way he talks, the way he is. It’s all so nauseatingly macho and you thought you were better than this. You thought you knew better and wanted better for yourself. But having it presented so perfectly for you… you were always going to succumb.

“You like it, you like me.” he continues, forcing your snow-white coat down your arms and off your body. The way his knuckles continue to gush blood, you expect the liquid to seep and stain the white material and paint it the same red as his eyes. “Mmmm, I’m right. Why else would you be so wet?”

The air is snatched from your lungs as he pushes your legs apart from each other one at a time. You don’t dare close them as you watch him pull his vest over his head and reveal his perfectly chiselled body in all of its glory. It’s pervasive. It’s gorgeous. You aren’t even sure it’s humanly possible to look this good.

A soft ‘unf’ sound leaves you and you feel him sink his bloody knuckles inside of your panties. Deft fingers swirl and tease around your firm clit, and your mouth seals shut.

“Tell the truth, princess.” he swipes two fingers over your clit at a heightened pace, desperate to coax another utterance of admittance from your soft lips. “You wanna get fingered by a dirty old man. Go on, let me be your bit of rough, sweetheart.”

“Fuck.” you breathe, unable to withstand his filthy mouth. You’re truly powerless to being spoken to like this. Maybe you’re tired of people speaking to you so politely day in day out.

He doesn’t respect you, though.

Right now you’re nothing but a wet, desperate hole, with a pretty face attached.

“Let daddy finger you, yeah?” he asks, and you can’t stop your eyes from filling with water. He thinks it’s adorable. How the mighty hath fallen for nothing more than a few little rubs on your neglected clit. It makes him sick, truthfully, how many precious little things like you go without being touched properly. You’re about to learn, now, just how quickly you can become addicted to a person and the way they touch you.

“I should- I r-really have to go!” you tell him, still so desperate to remain defiant to the bitter end. He knows you’re bound to crumble any second. You’re biting your lip to keep quiet, but it will do you little good. Not when you are instinctively widening your legs for him. Wider than you knew they could go.

He pushes a single finger into you, hissing when he feels just how tight you really are. If he didn’t know better, he’d assume you were a virgin. He presses the heel of his palm against your clit, constantly adding pressure to the needy nub as he continuously pumps and curls his finger in and out of your sopping hole.

“Sukuna! I can’t d-do this, I shouldn’t be here.” you tell him as you wrestle with your guilt.

“This is exactly where you should be,” he tells you. “You’ll feel better when you cum f’me. Maybe you’ll stop being such a stuck up bitch.” he laughs, again, because you don’t dispute it.

No, instead, you lean back and rest your hands on the desk. Your hips roll urgently against his hand, chasing the stimulation to your clit. He looks down between you, tugging at your panties with one hand until you take the hint. You stop rutting against him, closing your legs so he can pull them down without stopping his rough touches.

They come down enough, the white lace dangling on one ankle as he forces your legs apart again. His vision meets your cunt. The way you’re swallowing one finger with ease now calls him to add another.

And you hiss from the stretch, but your humping doesn’t relent. You’re taking his fingers all of the way to the bloody knuckle until your eyes cross from the pleasure. And he grunts, at that, an attempt to conceal the moan lodged in his throat.

He revels in the way your cunt clenches as he allows a glob of spit to drip to your clit. His jaw hangs low as he massages the heel of his palm into it harder. The way you wriggle from his touch is better than any drug he can imagine existing. It’s addictive, seeing a once so proud woman regress to a needy little pet from the touch of a common man.

“D-Don’t stop.” you whisper, unsure of where that even came from. It was entirely involuntary. Your brain begins to fog as he repeatedly batters your g-spot again and again until your vision turns white. “Fuck, fuck! ‘m cumming, Sukuna! Ah- aaah~!” you cry out.

And just as it was getting good. Just as you were about to topple over the edge, he withdraws his fingers.

“You’re a real slut when you get going, aren’t you?” he smiles, landing a wet slap on your twitching pussy. You yelp, but don’t speak. “Barking orders at me like you’re in charge. Remember who’s office you’re in, now. It ain’t yours, princess. You’re spread open on daddy’s desk. Know your place.”

“I’m s-sorry.” you whimper, trying to focus and ignore the aching pulse you feel between your thighs. You need to cum, now. You need him to make you. It’s not fair, you can’t comprehend how close you were before he stopped you from reaching your high. “I’ll be good, d-daddy, just don’t… please don’t stop.” you beg, the title feels foreign on your tongue. But you don’t hate it.

He tuts, slapping your cunt again and again, repeatedly striking until tears spill from your pathetic, wet eyes.

“Fuckin’ love it when you look at me like that. Needy little whore.” he chortles, moving away from you entirely as he goes to grab something. “I’m gonna do something no one else will ever be able to do for you, jus’ because you look so pretty.”

“Wha—?”

“Lose the sweater, now. Wanna see your pretty tits,” he commands, lifting up the bag he grabbed from his locker earlier. “Hurry up. You need to be naked for this, you’ll enjoy it more.”

You do as you’re told, hurrying to strip yourself of the restricting material that has been suffocating you all night. And you toss it God knows where, breathing a sigh of relief as you feel cooler despite the sweaty heat that is trapped in the office with you.

“Good, good girl.” he smirks, unzipping the bag. You brace yourself for whatever he’s about to pull out. Some kind of sex toy, you assume. Knowing his ego, it’s probably a mould of his cock, hoping he can double stuff you.

But he doesn’t pull anything out.

Instead, he tips the bag upside down. There’s no time to think about what horrible things he could be pouring onto you. Because it doesn’t happen. Instead, you’re showered in bank notes. You laugh, excitedly, as you feel a never-ending stream over hundred-dollar bills pour over your body and onto the desk.

Sukuna laughs, too, admiring the sight of you dressed in nothing but money.

His money.

And it’s everywhere.

You writhe around on the desk before looking at him. He pulls down his sweats, hungrily, just enough to free his length. And, fuck, he’s huge. You knew he would be just by looking at the rest of him. It’s a scary sight, but you don’t care. He was right, no one else will ever be able to do this for you.

“Fuck me.” you request, opening your legs for him again. “Want daddy to fuck me stupid.” you finish.

And he doesn’t need to be asked twice. His fingers are shoved between your lips for you to suck as he lines his threatening cockhead up with your throbbing cunt. You’re too distracted by the taste of his fingers to properly react to how he stretches your hole.

The taste of copper stains your tastebuds along with the flavour of your essence. He watches you, intently, as he bullies his cock all of the way to the hilt without remorse. Though he hadn’t realised he’d been holding his breath while examining you, panting desperately when he’s fully sunken into your restricting walls.

“Took that like a champ,” he praises you, withdrawing his fingers from your lips and opting to squeeze the sides of your neck instead. “Fuckin’ gorgeous, swallowing me like this.” he smirks, thrusting his hips shallowly to help you adjust. But the composure is lost when he feels how tight you’re wrapped around him. Like you’re claiming what yours as if he belongs inside, buried deep in your cunt to depths no one has been before.

He's yours.

“Fuuuu—” you start, cutting yourself off as you pout and groan through every pummel of his hips against yours. “Daddy! D-aaddy!” you wince, unable to believe how perfectly each vein adorning his cock stimulates you so beautifully. His leaking tip serves as a painful reminder to how irresponsible you’re being to fuck a literal stranger raw.

But you don’t care.

You honestly don’t care as you think about the desperate desire you feel burning between your thighs for him to fill you up like you’re his. To be claimed in such a disgustingly primal way by this behemoth of a man while you just lie there and take it is the only thing higher on your list of priorities than actually getting to cum yourself.

“No one will fuck you like this again, hear me? No one.” he reminds you. And all you can do is nod dumbly as you can’t even find it in you to formulate one word on your tongue to say in response. “Not a doctor, not a lawyer. No one will fuck you in the money they earn like this. And you look so pretty, princess. Knew you’d like it, can act high ‘n mighty all you like, but you like the blood money, don’tcha?”

“Y-Yes.” you barely managed to squeak out.

“Yes what?” he repeats.

“Y-es, daddy,” you pant, forcing yourself to fix your eyes on him as you speak in a feeble attempt to ground yourself. “I l-like the money.”

“Little money slut.” he chuckles, the angle he fucks in you seeming to hit deeper and deeper the longer it goes on. “I should fuck you up against the window, let everyone see how fucked out you are. Hah? Show everyone you’re not such a stuck up princess after all.”

“N-No, please, don’t.” you beg, gasping as he pulls his cock out of you and drags you away from the desk. He pushes your face against the window and you instinctively close your eyes. Your back arches as he slots himself into you from behind, powerless to his body as he starts fucking into you again. And you’re so thankful for the blinds, despite the fact the ridges dig into your skin as he ploughs you. “Fuuuuck, ‘Kuna, fuck, s’big!” you tell him, feeling him deeper still as he hits you from behind.

“I should let them all see what a whore you are.” he laughs, fingers gripping deeply into your sides as he uses you for leverage to pull you down on his length whilst battering into you. “Pretty mouth is droolin’ for me, look like you’re gonna break.”

Your heart begins to race as he reaches for the cord to open the blinds. There’s no doubt in your mind that it’s something he’d do. You brace yourself, preparing to be put on show for all of the lecherous men below to see.

But instead, he picks you up and forces you to bend over the table again. Your feet don’t even touch the ground as rams his cock into you again and again and again.

“Megumi wouldn’t be able to live it down if everyone knew how much of a slut his sister is,” he tells you. “He’d get the shit kicked out of him every time someone described what your face looks like when you cum.”

Fuck, Megumi.

You’d forgotten all about him, waiting in the freezing cold car for you while his pseudo-boss fucks your brains out.

“Don’t,” you huff, “tell him, about this.”

“Of course not, I’ll be your dirty little secret.” he laughs. “You are a vessel for my cum and nothing more.”

You’ve never felt such self-hatred for yourself as those final, scathing words have you cumming violently around his cock. You tremor and shake as you finish, collapsing entirely onto the desk as he continues to plough into you.

“Fuck, fuck!” you cry, feeling even more embarrassment wash over you as you think you might have pissed yourself. But he gasps, amazed, admiring the stream of clear liquid gushing from your cunt drenching him and his money on the floor.

“Awe, baby just squirted. What that your first time?” he laughs, fucking into you harder so that he can follow you along in your bliss. He bends over, his mouth lining up with your ear so he can whisper more of his rendition of sweet nothings into your ear. “You’re shaking ‘cause of me. A-And now, you’re gonna have to drive your little brother home with every drop of my cum in your cunt.”

“Please, please fill me up. Need it s’bad. Wanna be full of you…” you babble, reality still not fully resonating with you as he carries on fucking into you at a brutal pace.

He grunts and moans as he cums deep inside of you. You’ve made some mistakes in your life but this has to be one of the better ones. Despite your healthcare knowledge telling you that you should know better, you’ve never felt so content as you feel him shoot rope after rope of searing hot cum into your womb.

He pulls out, wiping his dick off on your ass cheek before fingering you slowly.

“Keep my mark inside of you.” he utters, forcing you to squeeze your thighs together so you don’t waste a drop while he gathers your clothes for you.

He hands you your underwear first while he keeps looking, and you pull them up quickly. It feels so revolting and lewd as his cum leaks into the seat of your panties. You sigh as you feel the cold letter M on your chest before you can dress yourself.

“I don’t have a first aid kit here.” Sukuna speaks, not looking at you as he hands you the rest of your belongings.

“I’m fine.” you tell him, quickly pulling on your sweater and instantly feeling sick as the warm material meets with your hot, clammy skin.

“I’m not.” he tells you, watching as you pull up your trousers and fasten them in a hurry before slipping into your high heels again. “Bet you have one at home. You’re a doctor, you’ve gotta look after people.”

You eye him up, cautiously, before your expression changes to a smile. “You’re asking to come home with me?” you wonder, pulling on your coat and making sure you still have two phones in your pockets as well as your purse and Megumi’s wad of cash. “But Megumi will—”

“I’ll drive behind you. C’mon, princess, don’t want my cuts do get infected, do ya?” he asks.

You cannot believe you allowed his dirty fingers inside of you. As good as they felt, it was so stupid. You’re sure there’s probably blood stains on your inner thighs because of him.

Though the thought of him all over you makes your cheeks fill with warmth.

You just nod, opting not to speak as you head towards the office door. You walk ahead of him, finding confidence in your strides again. He puts his vest back on and makes sure he’s decent before leaving the office. He watches you leave ahead of him and stops to talk to his favourite subordinate.

“Clean the mess up there. And I’ve counted the money so don’t get cute.” he says, handing the key to the office over before following your path out.

He’s a little surprised how far ahead you’d gotten. Long gone from the building as you approach your car.

The guilt of leaving Megumi alone for so long got to you, he thinks.

“Hi.” you say, simply, sitting behind the wheel of your car and hoping not to have to talk much for the ride home. He’s a moody teenager who rarely has a word to say to you. And for once, you’re hoping it’ll stay that way. You adjust yourself and quickly put on your seatbelt so that you can drive off without another word.

“What took you so long?” Megumi asks, huffing as he looks at you. His eyebrows knit as he sees his bossapproach with a confident swagger. He wonders if he forgot something or he didn’t pay him the right amount.

Sukuna leans into his open window with a shit eating grin on his face. He wants to question it, to question you. But his eyes meet your not so pristine white coat as he turns to look at you again. “Is that blood?” he asks, eyes looking up at you as he waits for an answer.

You look down at your jacket, holding your eyes closed with a sigh as you realise what a nightmare it’s going to be to remove the stains. Megumi leans in closer to you, moving your hair out of the way as he examines you.

“Um…” you mutter, too frozen to even continue starting up the car.

“It’s on your face and neck too. What did you—?” he stops, turning around to look at Sukuna and see if he can fill in the blanks in his mind with any form of answer. But they’re filled, instantly, as his eyes fall to see Sukuna’s bloody knuckles. “For fuck sake.” he speaks, quietly, covering his face with both hands as the revelation dawns on him.

“I’ll be right behind you, lead the way.” Sukuna winks as he walks away from your car and heads towards his own.

You don’t say anything, copying your brother’s action as you both sit in silence and absorb the never-ending supply of cringe filling the atmosphere. Until eventually you decide, this won’t do. Sukuna honks the horn of his Mercedes to signify that he’s ready.

So you start to drive, fleeing the scene while your partner in crime follows behind.

“Fucking good role model you are.” Megumi speaks sarcastically. “I can’t show my face there again. Why do you ruin everything?”

“Nothing happened!” you lie, earning a scoff from him.

“Let me get this straight. You came here to tell me to stop fighting, and then you fucked the man who pays me to do it. So, am I allowed to fight or not?”

“Obviously not, Megumi.”

“You’re a fucking hypocrite.” he scathes, turning his head to face away from you while he sulks. “You can’t tell me what to do after this. Some fucking moral compass you got there.”

“Oh shut up.” you respond, trying to keep a cool head as you continue. “Nothing. Happened. I watched him fight and I hated it, we talked it out and here we are. Stop being so pissy.”

“Why’s he following us home, then?” he wonders, turning to face you and see if he can detect an honest answer or a lie from you.

“He doesn’t have a first aid kit.” you tell him, which is true though it isn’t really an answer. And you feel his green eyes burn into the side of your face as he waits for you to elaborate. “I’m a doctor, he needs his wounds tending to.”

“… Oh my God.” he starts. “Oh my God you actually fucking like him. You’re so embarrassing.” he huffs, pulling a cigarette out of his jeans. He closes the window to light it and opens it again just as quickly. You’ve never liked that he smokes, but you know nothing you say or do will stop him.

Just like the fighting.

And then, you find yourself laughing. Unable to stop yourself as you think about what a stereotypical angsty teen your little brother is. And, God, you’ve made yourself into his biggest enemy just because you care about him. But now… Christ, you’ve gone above and beyond.

“I lied. We fucked. And it was great.” you laugh harder when you see Megumi’s horrified expression the longer the conversation goes on.

“I can’t stand you.” he sighs. “He’s never gonna let me forget this. What is wrong with you?”

“Serves you right, you little shit. Lie to me again and see what happens.” you warn him, your laughter lets up a little as you try and focus on being serious.

You’re never going to be his mother, and you’d never want to be. But what you can be is his big sister. You can be an annoying pain and embarrass him whenever he acts up. But you’ll always be here to take care of him and keep him on the right track when needs be.

“I love you, shit head.” you smile, and he sighs.

“… love you too… bitch.”

© 2023 rinhaler

#ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna ryomen x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu #jjk x fem!reader #tw violence #tw blood #tw daddy kink #tw size difference #tw age gap #tw degradation #tw dacryphilia #tw choking

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

Overindulgent father Astarion who tells his children they’re allergic to any kind of jewellery that isn’t made of the highest grade Dwarven crafted gold. 

It’s not even because Astarion might have a certain aversion to silver, no, he just raises his children to have standards, thank you very much. 

And it doesn’t end with shiny things, oh no… 

The Ancunín brood is known to be dressed in perfectly woven cotton, silk and soft leather clothes, no matter the occasion.

They’re seen playing with expensive toys, reading artfully illustrated books that certainly belong behind thick glass, not in children’s sticky hands. 

There’s even talk that one of the children is not as naturally inclined to music as his parents claim him to be, surely his lyre must be enchanted—the instrument certainly looks extravagant enough! 

And then there’s always this air of effortless haughtiness surrounding the Ancunín children whenever their nannies and servants are parading them through town as if they were perfect little dolls; objects to show off the wealth their parents acquired in quite the mysterious ways. 

So, it’s no secret that Astarion and Tav are pampering their children—some might say they’re even spoiling them rotten. 

And maybe they are, especially Astarion.

But he doesn’t see why he should raise them any other way, nor does he want to.  

When it comes to his children, Astarion has his own standards, and as long as Tav agrees with him nothing really matters. 

Because, these people, they don’t know anything about the Ancuníns. 

They don’t know that it’s not unusual for Astarion to wash out dirt and mud and strawberry stains from comically small finery, leaving behind only the memories of a day spent playing in the garden, chasing after ducks, picking flowers, lazing in the sun…

That any holes and tears the children’s clothes might suffer are quickly mended, making them look as good as new in no time. 

Nor do they know that Astarion doesn’t mind fashioning a brand new dress to match that of a favourite doll, either. Or to embroider a pretty vest with the likeness of that stray cat the children seem to adore, although their father would rather they don’t touch the mangy animal. 

No, those people know nothing at all...

“Not tired!” Astarion’s youngest cries; the vehement denial of her father’s earlier accusation is cut short by a telltale yawn.

The room still smells of fragrant lavender oil and peaches even when the bath water has already grown tepid, just one or two degrees above what Astarion would consider too cold to be enjoyable. 

Amused, he raises an eyebrow at the protesting toddler before he lifts her out of the copper bathtub with little effort. 

By now, he knows every step of this game.

“Tut-tut, my dear child, what did mama and I say?” Astarion kneels, quickly wrapping a soft towel around the child to keep her warm. “We only tell lies outside of this house.”

Unfazed by her father’s gentle scolding, the girl crosses her arms that haven’t yet lost their puppy fat across her chest, reminding Astarion a little too much of a very displeased Tav. 

Suppressing a sigh, he leans back to consider the pouting child, wondering what could possibly be upsetting her this time—the list is growing longer by the day, after all. 

“What’s the matter, dear?” Astarion asks gently, hoping it’s something easily fixable as it’s growing rather late. 

“Want apple!”

Decades ago, Astarion might’ve rolled his eyes—he knows exactly which stupid apple the child wants, it’s been haunting him all day—but once he started to treat his children’s problems as if they were his own, his life has grown somewhat easier. 

“Why, let’s get an apple on our way to bed, then. Would that be alright, Your Highness?” 

The girl promptly nods her head, allowing Astarion to pat her hair dry before dressing her in a clean night dress. 

She rests her cheek against her father’s shoulder as he carries her first to the kitchen to grab a fragrant apple and a knife, then to her bedroom where they settle on the cosy window seat, just like they do every night.

Soft moonlight is pouring through the windows; the child giggles at the way the knife’s blade is catching the silver light as Astarion peels and cuts the apple into even pieces.

“Here you go,” he finally says, giving the slice of apple one last examining look before surrendering it to the impatient little hands reaching for it. “A sweet treat for my little sweet. Doesn’t it taste so much better when we don’t eat it off the floor, darling?” And when it’s not crawling with ants…

The appeased toddler nibbles at the juicy fruit as Astarion carefully combs through her still-damp curls. 

Her hair’s getting long, he notices, knowing that taking care of it will become more time-consuming each day. 

Once, Astarion would’ve thought this task tedious, brushing out hair that’s not his own, oiling and braiding it for no other reason than knowing his children enjoy him doing it. 

But that’s why he loves doing it in the first place, he supposes.

Astarion can tell by his toddler’s heartbeat that sleep is about to claim her. 

The half-eaten slice of apple is still clutched in her little fist as he cradles the child to his chest, slowly rising from the window seat to put her to bed. 

He’s just about to lay the child down that the fruit drops to the floor, his daughter’s tiny hand clutching at his shirt instead.

“Thank you, papa,” she mumbles, more asleep than awake.

Astarion pauses.

He breathes in the clean, yet unique scent of the little girl that is forever engraved in his brain, the same way he knows under which exact constellation she was born. When she took her first steps, what her first word was. Soon, he will have to memorise her favourite colour, and what she likes to eat when dirty apples won’t be that appealing anymore. 

By now, Astarion knows this game by heart, knows that with every year that passes, he has something new to learn about his children.

And sometimes he wonders what it’s like to grow up with clean bed sheets and full bellies. Sleep filled with naught but warmth and happy memories. Ever open doors and tears that are dried by tender kisses. Living in a house where mistakes and anger are welcomed, safe. 

He wonders what it’s like for his children to know that their father’s love comes without conditions. Not now and not ever. 

Sitting down on the bed, Astarion holds his youngest a little closer to his chest, unwilling to let go of her, yet. 

He’s often accused of spoiling his children when most people can only just grasp the very surface of his love for them, the bare minimum of what he feels for his one and only, precious family. 

These baseless accusations are as unimportant to Astarion as the people voicing them.

He’s raising his children to have standards, wants them to take their father’s love for granted, to accept nothing less but pure devotion.

It’s the only way Astarion knows how to love them, the only way that comes most naturally to him. 

Astarion looks down at his little girl, now fast asleep, a gentle smile tugging at her lips. 

After all these years—all these children—he’s still in awe watching them sleep in his arms as if no harm in the world could ever befall them.

And it won’t—not if Astarion can help it. 

“No, thank you, my heart,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against the crown of the toddler’s head. 

When it comes to his children, Astarion holds himself to the highest standard.

#astarion #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #dadstarion #astarion x tav #astarion headcanons #astarion x f!tav #baldur's gate astarion #astarion ancunin #to the best worst dad #astarion father of the year every year #emicha writes #idk how this turned out this long #I just put my daddy issues to work #I'm thinking about writing more casual one shot length pieces like this more often though #btw anyone else who only got real gold jewellery as a child? #having a grandma who told them fake jewellery isn't good for your skin? #and now that you're an adult you're left with a certain standard for jewellery but no money to actually pay for it? #because that's really funny ha! #I'll sleep better knowing the ancunin brood will just steal their jewellery even when they're not destitute

[pomegranateandblood]

The Jacket (part 1/2)

Summary: Alive!reader gets assigned a new locker, finds Wally‘s letterman jacket and decides to keep it

Includes: Wally Clark x reader, smut

A/N: I just love Wally & Rhonda‘s friendship

"This is not what I meant when I asked for a new locker."  You said, scrunching your nose in disgust.

„Yeah, it's like they haven't cleaned it in decades" Your friend dusted her hands off.

A comical cloud of dust came out of the locker, when you finally managed to open the jammed metal door. Coughing, you stepped back.

Meanwhile, unbeknown to you, two students were watching. Dead Students to be exact.

„Hey, isn't that your locker, hot stuff?" Rhonda pointed her lollipop towards the situation.

The footballer turned and nearly tripped, running over to you.

„Stop panicking, it's not like you could do anything about it anyway." The brunette rolled her eyes and started following him.

„They promised my my mum they wouldn't give my locker away and now I see some-„ Wally tried to find the right words, holding onto Rhondas arm.

She raised a brow at him „Hot cheerleaders taking over your locker ?"

„I'm serious! All the stuff I have on me is in there, what if they throw it away?" He said, watching you hold up his letterman jacket.

„You're right, they really havent cleaned this in ages." You looked at your friend.

She reached inside, pulling out a blue and white jacket. You took it from her and held it up. „It's cute don't you think? Kinda vintage."

„Oh my god. look." She pointed at the stitching at the right top. ‚Wally' it read in white italic letters. You looked at her. „You think it belonged to the stadium guy?"

„Possible? I mean there's other stuff in there. Maybe he wants it back." Your friend crossed her arms. „We could go to the library at lunch and look into the yearbooks to find out."

The bell rang, interrupting your little locker investigation.

„Sounds like a plan." You said, before walking to class.

—

Wally anticipated lunch break and already waited in the yearbook section, when Rhonda suddenly appeared next to him.

„What are you doing here? Aren't you busy catching gossip in the teachers lounge ?" he asked, cocking a brow at her in question.

She smirked. „I love gossip, but seeing your big star student slash jock ego getting crushed by two human girls is even more entertaining to me"

Wally mocked her smirk and rolled his eyes. He was about to reply when he heard you and your friend entering the aisle.

„1981, 1982- ah here Yearbook of 1983. The trophy cabinet has a table with all, the state champion teams and his name was listed in that year."

Rhonda leaned her head on Wally‘s shoulder, or at least as far as she could with their height difference. „Oh superstar, even state champion? Aww, if I wasn't dead I'd feel sorry."

„Fuck you, Rhonda."  Wally scoffed, trying to concentrate on you skipping through the yearbook pages.

„Sorry I'm not into footballers, sweetheart." She sucked on her lollipop again, leaning against the shelf.

Wally took a deep breath. He was a nice guy, really and he liked Rhonda, but sometimes her attitude just got to him.

„Maybe, footballer dick is just what you need to get over your brooding and depressed mood."

Rhonda laughed. „ Ew." She pushed his shoulder.

„Turn to the exceptional students pages." Your friend said and flipped through the book.

There it was, a full double page.

In loving memory of Wally Clark stood under his picture. Fluffy black hair, chocolate brown eyes and charming smile, wearing the exact same jacket you found in your locker today.

„He's dead?" It sounded more like a questioin than a statement coming out of your mouth.

„Sad, he's sexy." You friend stated.

Rhonda nearly choked on her lollipop and Wally swallowed, before a smirk crept upon his lips.

„She did not just say that?" The shorter ghost crossed her arms.

„He is." You agreed before nudging your friend.

„You think he was a fuckboy ?" She laughed and you joined in. Taking the book from you she read the different things written about him.

„Look, this cheerleader wrote ‚He loved eating jelly filled donuts' Oh I'm sure he did" She wiggled her eyebrows.

„Well if I was born back then, I wouldn't mind him tasting my jelly filled donut." you said giggling.

After chattinf some more, the two of you put the book back and left, still giggling about the handsome footballer.

Wally's face burnt bright red and he felt like his cheeks were on fire. He knew that girls had found him cute back when he was alive, but he never heard girls talk about him like that.

„Congratulations stud, now you're a teenage girls' wet dream in two centuries." Rhonda joked and patted his shoulder.

„What do you mean ?" Wally asked nervously.

Of course he had sex before and he did like it rough, but he was in a relationship before he died and even now he only had one partner to relief his teenage hormones. Wally never wanted to use someone for their body, but this ‚trapped in the school as a ghost’ situation didn't really allow any relationships.

„What I mean is, that girls are or were obsessed with you. When you came to this school I couldn't go anywhere without the female students talk about ‚tall and sexy' you are and how hot you look during football practice."  She made a disgusted face and Wally looked at her in shock.

„Oh and don't we forgot about your girlfriend back then. She was very descriptive to her friends about your dick and how exactly you used it to bring her to the edge."

Wally now leaned against the shelves, trying not to freak out.

„But that was long ago, most of the ghosts here died after me." He said, trying to make himself feel better.

„I don't know why you're freaking out so much? I should be freaking out. Of disgust." She tried to calm him.

„You're right. I just thought- I can't believe I was so naiive." he said, looking down.

„Hey Wally, you're a nice guy." she said, making him smile. „Still entitled tho."

He laughed and rolled his eyes.

—

A few days later you were able togive Wally's mother the stuff you found in his locker. She seemed like a nice woman and you felt a little emotional at how grateful she was.

Especially because you decided to keep the letterman jacket. You gave it to the dry cleaners and basically lived in it ever since picking it up. It was slightly oversized on you but extremly comfortable.

But there was also something different since you wore it. You felt... watched. Just like today, when you got dressed after swimming club.

After leaving the shower, you put a towel over the bench to sit down. You took little longer than usual and had the changing room to yourself.

Suddenly, it's like something tickled over your back, down to your hips. A pleasant sensation. You shivered, reaching for the jacket to cover yourself.

You called out for someone. But you really were alone. Your friend had joked earlier  that Wally Clarks ghost would come for you, because you didn't give back his jacket. Luckily you didn't believe in ghosts and when you sat down on the bench, yet another thought invaded your mind.

You leaned back and opened your legs slightly. Wouldn't be the first time someone touched themselves in the locker rooms. The boys did it all the time after practice.

Your fingers travelled from your navel down to your already wet heat. Exploring your folds, before finding your clit, you closed your eyes. Wally Clark appeared behind your lids. He kneeled between your legs, strong hands holding your hips.

He kissed the creamy skin of your thighs upwards, the dreamiest of chocolate brown bedroom eyes looking up at you. He licked his plump lips before speaking against your folds, the vibration making you hiss out.

„Quite the unusual offer. Letting me eat you out so I'd forgive you for stealing." his tongue lapped up the wetness of your folds and one of his hands found your breasts, kneading them softly before pinching the nipple. One after one.

„Wally, please." You moaned and circled your clit faster. The feeling of being watched heightened your pleasure from the fantasy.

He sucked on your clit and his other hand also left your hip. Two of his fingers pushed inside you, pumping. „Mmmh" he moaned against your sensitive spot. You shivered and moaned his name again and again.

Goosebumps spread over your skin and you were sure his fingers would feel even better than your own. Shifting slightly on the bench, you were sure the towel underneath you was already soaked. The tight coil in your lower abdomen let you know you were close.

„If you weren't already late I'd edge you. Looking so pretty spread out for me on the bench." His fingers curled up and he switched between sucking and licking at your centre.

You came, biting down on your lower lip, so you wouldn't be heard in the nearby hallway. Opening your eyes, you adjusted to reality again and pulled his jacket together in front of your chest. You felt sick, pleasuring yourself to a dead boy. You decided to sit for a bit before redressing and drying your hair.

Wally still kneeled in between your legs. His lips glistened with your juices and he laughed „So much better than a jelly donut"

Licking his fingers clean, he tried to calm his nerves. His hard cock strained against the grey sweatpants, so he sat up and adjusted himself. He really tried holding back, knowing what he did was technically a grey zone of consent, but seeing you spread out on the bench, naked and wearing his jacket, he just couldn't not help you out. Also, you did say you wouldn't mind a few days ago.

He just wished you could see him. It made him dream on his own, about you two. Maybe on the bleachers or in the teachers lounge. Wally really liked the couch in the teachers lounge.

He watched you get dressed and waited for you to leave so he could take care of himself.

—

The thoughts of Wally haunted you throughout the next few weeks. Maybe his ghost did haunt you. So you decided to help the homecoming committee decorate the school with posters and decoration up until the late night to take your mind off it.

You fell asleep in the Gym. Waking up in the middle of the night on the hard floor you sighed. You were about to collect your stuff and leave when you heard a moan. Looking up, your jaw nearly dropped to the Floor.

Wally sat upon a gym mat, the ghost of a cheerleader who died in the 90s after dropping from a pyramid sat in his lap.

There was an obvious tent in his grey sweatpants. Her cheer skirt was tucked into the seam revealing her bare pussy with two of Wally's fingers knuckle deep inside. There was a wet spot on his crotch and the squishy noise of his fingers pumping at a fast pace hollowed in the gym.

Her moans were swallowed by his lips, hungrily devouring her mouth.

You squeezed your thighs together at the sight. Envious of the girl. Wally pushed a third finger inside, keeping the rough pace. The blonde girl reached down to rub her clit, but Wally slapped her hand away.

He pulled away from her, biting her bottom lip.

„You only get to do that when my cock has been inside of you."

Your head fell back against the wall. God, you must be really going crazy. Hallucinating or dreaming, but you couldn't tear your eyes away.

The blonde pouted. „M'sorry Wally."

He helped her climb off his lap before he stood up on the mat. She was already getting on all fours with spread knees. Meanwhile Wally pulled his sweatpants down, revealing his impressive girth. Getting on one knee behind her, he pumped himself with his head thrown back, before guiding himself inside her.

He started with slow thrusts, obviously not doing this for the first time. The blonde under him closed her eyes, mouth agape in pleasure.

Wally picked up the speed while kneading her asscheeks. Your eyes widened when he spread them, letting a string of his spit drip onto her other hole. He massaged it with his thumb and the blonde responded with screaming his name „Please, Wally. Please Please Please." she writhted under his touch as he pressed down with his thumb.

Your -or more his jacket felt too hot all of a sudden and you felt your hardened nipples against the fabric of your bra. Pressing your thighs together you tried to get some relief.

The blonde bit her lip to silence her pleas buz Wally slapped her cheek „No. No. No. Baby. I wanna hear you. Let them hear you." His hand went back to her ass.

„You can pleasure yourself now." he instructed and her fingers immediately found her clit, circling roughly.

After her first orgasm, he pulled out. His dick dripping with her juices, the head angry and red. Wally helped her turn on her back, legs draped over his shoulders, guiding just the tip inside.

She whimpered. „Please come on my tits, Wally. I want to taste you."

You bit your lip at her voice, full of need and desire.

He smirked and started jerking above her chest. Her hand joined him as he put his abover hers, guiding her how he liked it.

He groaned her name as he came. Thick spurts of his glassy cum decorating her rosy nipples, up to her chin, which she greedily licked up.

She started licking him clean. „Thank you, Wally. Mmmh." He pushed her head down further, and looked up.

You stared at him wide eyed as you made eye contact with him. At first his gaze looked dazed from pleasure, but then he thought you could see him.

But that wouldn't be possible would it? Humans can't see ghosts.

Wally tucked himself away and helped his companion fix herself, but when he turned around you were gone.

He was definitely going to seek you out tomorrow.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed, let me know in the comments & leave me some love 💕

#milo manheim #wally clark #milo manheim fanfiction #school spirits #wally clark smut #wally clark x reader #wally clark fanfiction

[statisticallymorelikely]

✨00Q end of the year fic rec list ✨ (to commemorate the year of the lord 2023 when this ship came back to kick my ass)

the simplest of crimes by pdameron - fake marriage AU. my favorite 00Q fake married au just because the stakes are so low like they didn't have to do all that but the build up is so good.

come a lily, come a lilac by pdameron - florist!Q AU. this really got me giggling and twirling my hair.

James Bond Will Return by sorion - post-Spectre James comes back. a very charming character study.

as permanent as stone cathedrals by pdameron - pining Q. beautifully written with just the right amount of whump.

people can surprise you (or not) by pdameron - fake relationship but posh. i love whodunnits.

Hold Tight by orphan_account - Spectre fix-it. and fix it they did. also has my second favorite Q name.

lacunae (just the blood you owe) by finestkind - Q offers comfort as bond deals with grief. this fic honestly makes me ache, the way it handles friendship and grief and love UGH.

Say Something (I'm Giving Up On You) by Brihna - Spectre re-write where Q and James sleep before he goes off to Mexico. possibly my favorite Spectre fix-it, love emotional constipation and miscommunication.

Crossing the Bar by GwynDuLac - Q pulls bond out of retirement for an emergency mission. the best mission fic i have ever read hands down.

bloom on my skin, echo in my soul by Areiton - soulmate au. gorgeous writing.

if I couldn't be strong by SailorChibi - post-Spectre James is found abandoned in a hospital in a coma. i love how quietly vindictive Q is in this.

a bloodless coup by Ark - marathon sex. very vulnerable.

I Could've Been a Maths Teacher by Brihna - Q branch gets invaded. v good translation of the comic into prose.

I Don't Take Your Pleasure For Granted by Catchclaw - Q develops a crush. love me some pathetic Q.

I Won't Shiver, I Won't Shake by Only_1_Truth - Skyfall re-write, lots of Q whump. the hurt is so good but the comfort is even better. plus i love attack roombas.

Favours by dhampir72 - pining from Q's POV. fun fact: my gf once quoted a line of this fic to me and i knew immediately which fic she was reading, that's how much i've read this.

rain by Aniron84 - touch starved Q. god GOD, this fic!! there was a time in my life, i read this multiple times a day. the description of loneliness is so on point it always hurts.

Fidelity by marlowe_tops - Q seems to have picked up a stray. local idiot doesn’t know he’s in a relationship, struggles mentally

Indelible by enjolras_lexa - 5+1 of bond breaking into Q's apartment. quite gentle and funny.

A Hitch in the Holster by APrettySpy - Q is having A Time during a heat wave and like Q i'm not immune to the holster

when the world isn't fair by Mlle_Heloise - James rescues Q's holiday. warm and fluffy.

The Pros and Cons of Wayward Agents by Brihna - Q whump with a protective Bond. is it bad to be all teehee while reading someone beat someone else to unconsciousness

Best Dressed by HandsAcrossTheSea - PWP with kilts! really good p0rn and with bottom Bond to boot!

Through A New Lens: A Spectacular Love Story by christinefromsherwood - Q discovers he has a glasses kink, or does he? listen, i too am not immune to daniel craig in glasses so i can relate.

talk / listen by thestalwartheart - dirty talk. a masterclass in p0rn honestly, SO good.

The Inevitability of Time by dhampir72 - soulmate au. will never stop recommending this, it's so tragic and yet not?

#00Q #rec list #007 #james bond #quartermaster #i did not expect to get obsessed with them again #but honestly #one of the highlights of my year #there's such good fic out there im always well fed #ive read all of these at least 10x each

[zanarkandskylines]

Okay I’m back I’m sorry your writing is like cocaine to me idk you’re awesome-

Bakugou x reader where they’re on a mission and it involves a teams of heroes to dress up like Dynamight to confuse the enemy??? Just like Bakugou’s reaction to seeing his girlfriend decked out in his gear like 😭😭😭

but like picture like reader trying to fit Bakugou into a version of her costume too-

Ohkay I’m going even further now- Bakugou and reader wearing formal wear modeled after each other at a Hero’s gala to debut their relationship to the world???? I can just imagine after the mission they just really like wearing each other’s stuff-

Anyways you’re amazing have an amazing day!!

I’m so so sorry this took me so long to get to! You’re the sweetest!! 🥰 thank you so much for rec and coming back! I’ve enjoyed the ideas you’ve suggested so much and hope you like this one. 💖✨

Substitute Gear

『 ♡』  k.bakugo x fem!reader ꒰ pro-hero au | age 24 | lovers (bf/gf) ꒱ ⇢ bakugo and reader are joking around in their apartment one night when they decide to try on each others costumes! this leads to a fun inspiration for the upcoming hero gala as their agencies recommend for them to reveal their relationship officially. Why not do it in style?

꒰ tags & warnings ꒱ no cw minus cursing | fun & fluffy ꒰ cross posted to ao3 | wc; ~1.1k ꒱ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist

“Ugh, what an ugly shift,” you complain as you’re walking through the front door of your apartment. You’re kicking off your dirty boots in the entryway when Katsuki comes to greet you.

“Long day?” He asks, analyzing how filthy your hero suit is. It doesn’t stop him from giving you a light peck on the lips to welcome you home.

“More like what didn’t happen today. A kid threw up on me, and when I washed that off, some asshole bled all over me when I cuffed him! To top it all off, I tripped and fell into the mud while in pursuit of a robbery. Head first!”

As you’re rattling off the laundry list of shitty things that happened during the day, Katsuki’s silently instructing you to take the suit off. He spins you around, unzipping the neck piece and carefully removing all of your components and accessories.

“I broke my damn helmet in that fall,” you groan, wiping dried dirt from your cheek.

“Better than your head, dumbass,” Katsuki counters. “Ya got extras, no use cryin’ over one of ‘em.”

You shimmy the suit off of your shoulders and pull out of the material one limb at a time.

“You’d think as heroes, there’d be a professional laundry service or something,” you complain, letting your suit crumple on the floor. It comically puffs out a dried cloud of grime.

Katsuki stifles a laugh. “Weird way of sayin’ I do all your laundry. Get your ass in the shower, you reek.” He smacks your barely-covered ass to get you moving, continuing to snicker to himself as you waddle down the hallway.

───

After a long and hot shower, you emerge from the bathroom with a dramatic haze of steam following you.

“Ya done yet, peach? Dinners done,” Katsuki calls from the kitchen, dishes clattering as he’s prepping plates for the two of you. You scamper down the hall to meet him in the kitchen, a delicious aroma filling your senses when you approach the stove. He hands you one of the plates of beef and peppers stacked high on a bed of rice.

“Mmm, you even made me extra peppers!” You chirp, flashing him a cheesy smile. He grins in response and slips past you to sit on the couch.

The news channel is droning in the background during dinner, the news anchors excitedly discussing the upcoming annual Hero Gala - the glitz and glamour side of it, anyways. The Gala itself is an enormous event to celebrate Japan’s hero society and to announce the year’s hero ranking; however, everyone treats it as one extravagant event, red carpet and all.

“I’ve never been to the gala before,” you say before taking another mouthful of rice. “I never qualified to attend until this year. I’m kinda nervous to be…debuting us, if I’m being honest.”

Your agencies had caught wind of your relationship - rather, Katsuki’s assistant accidentally caught you two kissing in his office - and wanted to use you as an opportunity to introduce the “new hottest hero couple.” Agencies care about appearances and tabloid drama just as much as actual hero work. What's hotter than a top hero dating a lower - much lower - ranked hero?

The gala is in two weeks and the two of you haven't settled on what to do about it.

“Th’ agencies wanting to use us as an attention grab is fuckin’ stupid," Katsuki mumbles, brows scrunched in frustration. "Who gives a shit who we're dating? Doesn't affect my ability ta do my job."

He had a point, of course, but that didn't make you any less nervous about it. You were being pressured to have an extremely public date and let "fans" know that Dynamight was off the market. The thought of fans metaphorically bashing your head in wasn't ideal, but whatever gets "ratings," right?

"We might as well just show up in each others' costumes," you joke, rolling your eyes as the news anchor shifts topics to the latest update on another nonsense story.

"That's...not a bad idea!" He shouts, putting his plate on the coffee table and excitedly jogging down the hall to the bedroom. "Where's your backup suit?"

"In the closet, why? There's no way your muscular ass is getting in that tight suit."

"No, dumbass! C'mere!"

You place your plate next to his and get up from the couch, waltzing to the bedroom to see what he's on about. Both your hero suit and his are laying on the bed next to each other.

"What if we swapped colors?" He asked, pointing to the suit designs. "You wear mine and I wear yours. That'll give the media somethin' to yap about."

That's actually...a brilliant idea! The media would absolutely eat up the "bad boy" Dynamight strutting into the gala with his partner's color pallet, especially because your colors were pinks and purples.

You raise an eyebrow to him, smirking as you begin to imagine him in a sharp pink and purple suit. "You do look good in pink, the few times you've worn it."

Katsuki cackles and winks at you. "Course I do, I make anythin' look good."

He immediately calls his agency to request the garments - they agreed wholeheartedly and offered to fund both outfits.

───

The night of the gala has finally arrived! There are plenty of news crews from all channels present, huddled around the main red carpet entrance. The scene is bedazzled with flashing camera lights, the shutter sounds of multiple cameras capturing photos in tandem. Your complimentary custom outfits are pristine and Katsuki's hand is in yours as the limo pulls up to the gateway, giving you a soft squeeze to gather your attention.

"It'll be fine, sweets. Jus' follow my lead, 'kay?"

You nod while taking a deep breath to calm your nerves. "Thanks babe."

The limo attendant outside skips to the door, opening it for the two of you and ushering you to the entrance. You're both standing in line behind other heroes awaiting their turn to enter the building, attention already building in your direction. A few minutes go by before one of the hosts motions for the two of you to proceed to the entrance.

Your heart is racing, threatening to burst right through your ribcage as the hot spotlights are covering the two of you. Cameras are flashing rapidly, waves of unintelligible shouting invading your senses - "Dynamight! Over here, look this way!" "Just one this way, you two!" "To the left, please!"

Katsuki's jaw is tense as his eyes are roaming around to satisfy multiple camera men, the resting glare he normally sports on patrol adoring his features. Your attempting to keep a soft smile, posing and waving gently. Suddenly, you're tugged into Katsuki's side, his hand leaving yours and wrapping around your waist, pulling you into his personal space. He spins you to face him, cupping your chin and dipping you backwards as his lips grace your own, holding you in place.

The world around explodes with surprise, the peanut gallery clamoring with questions about the two of you - "Are you two an item?" "Oh! A higher ranked hero and a brand new one!" "What a scandalous amount of PDA!"

When you part, he pulls you back to his side and keeps his hand on your waist while the two of you continue into the gala together. The paparazzi outside are tailing the two of you as they're stopped at the door, shouting for answers as he flips them off over his head.

"Told ya it'd be fine. Now let's fuckin' eat and enjoy the damn night."

thanks again for the suggestion @queenpiranhadon ! ✨

#bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x you #bakugo x fem!reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #my hero academia #☆.from the stars #☆.rei writes

[likeahorribledream]

Hey, I still know things about you that nobody else does! And I'm not afraid to use that to my advantage."

For biker Bucky? It just seems so fun

Thank you for sending this! I took a few liberties with the story and hopefully you’re going to like it!

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x female!reader

TW: none

Word count: 1.2k

Author’s note: I haven’t written anything in… I want to say months but I think it’s more than a year. So PLEASE be nice and patient with me 😭 I haven’t edited it, reading my own stories make me cringe so I apologize for all the mistakes you’re going to find.

Not a lot of names were feared in this town just by the sound of them, but Barnes was definitely at the top of the list. Mostly because of how he looked. Bucky was at the head of the only MC the town has ever known, taking his father’s place once he stepped down. The club is all he has ever known. At 6’3, long hair, a beard and covered in tattoos and muscles; he feels like he was born to be a biker especially because no one dared to cross him. No one was better than him when it came to staring down someone, he could go minutes without blinking and that freaked most people out. He absolutely loved to be feared, he loved that no one even tried to bother him, or challenge him because his reputation preceded him wherever he went and he wasn’t afraid to throw a punch (or five) to get his point across. Needless to say, no one willingly got into a fight with him because they knew they’d come out the loser. So every night you could find him sitting peacefully at the bar his father owned, with all of the MC by his side, drinking beers and enjoying music. Regular people were welcomed in, but they all knew to steer clear of the boys’ table.

Until one night, where their peaceful evening was disturbed by commotion coming from the front of the bar. Their table was completely at the back, they couldn’t see but they could tell something was going on. Before they even got the chance to get up, people were getting out of the way as someone was furiously making their way towards them.

“James Buchanan Barnes!” You screamed before even seeing him. “Back office. Now!” You added once you were finally able to make eye contact with him.

The music stopped, and not a sound could be heard. It was comical, really, you would have laughed if you weren’t so pissed off.

Everybody’s attention shifted to Bucky as he slowly put his beer down on the table in front of him and stood up. Within a few steps he was right in front of you, staring you down like he does so well. “Excuse you?”

More than a few people were holding their breath, fearing for your safety but you didn’t even flinch. You crossed your arms in front of you and raised an eyebrow, challenging him in front of everybody before smiling sweetly. “I know things, things that no one else does, and I’m not afraid to use them to my advantage. We wouldn’t want that now, would we?” You said calmly, never breaking eye contact. “Back office. Now.” You repeated yourself with a tone that let him know that it would be the last time. You uncrossed your arms and starting walking yourself to the back office, not even looking back to see if he was following you. You knew he was. You took a seat at the desk and waited until he closed the door behind him before speaking again.

“You got some explaining to do.”

Bucky’s eyes widened as he leaned back against the door, surprised by the words that came out of your mouth. “I have some explaining to do?”

You frowned. “Don’t look surprised.”

“You came in here screaming like a damn fury, but I’m the one who needs to give an explanation?” He scoffed, looking around. “I’m getting punk’d is that it?”

“James.” You said his name in a tone that meant you were done messing around. Like an instant reaction, Bucky took the elastic off of his right wrist and tied his long hair in a low bun; a sign that he was nervous.

Bucky sighed, taking a seat across the desk from you, watching you as you pulled out your phone from your jacket pocket.

You looked through your phone and started reading off the screen. “I won’t be able to make it on Saturday, something came up. Tell your parents I’m sorry.” You finished, putting down your phone on the desk. “That would be the third time in three months that I’ll have to tell my parents “something came up”, James.”

“ I know.” He answered quietly, looking down at the desk.

“Can’t you just tell me the truth? Look, if you don’t want to meet my parents because you don’t love me anymore just tell me.” You said quickly, mentally bracing yourself for the words that you thought were going to come out of his mouth at any second.

“What? Baby, no.” He got up from his chair, walking around the desk and kneeling in front of you. “I love you.” He took your hands between his, his cold rings making you shiver against his hot skin. “I’m just… scared.” He finally admitted, shamefully.

“Scared?” This was the first time he had mentioned it to you. “Scared of what? You know my dad doesn’t care about the MC, he was in one and that’s how my parents met.”

You saw his lips move, but what came out was a mumble. “What?”

He sighed. “Your mom. We’ve only ever spoken on FaceTime for a few minutes, but I can’t tell if she likes me or not. I can’t read a single emotion off of her and it terrifies me.”

You can’t help but chuckle. “Why didn’t you just tell me instead of cancelling at the last minute?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t want you to make fun of me.”

“I’m still terrified of her, believe me. Plus, I wouldn’t make fun of you. Do you make fun of me when I get scared in the middle of the night because of noises from outside, and you have to go check so I can fall back asleep even if we both know the noises are raccoons and not robbers?”

It’s his time to chuckle. “Of course not, I know you can’t help it.”

You nodded and brought his hands to your lips, kissing his knuckles. “Then, why would you think I would make fun of you? Ever?”

He stood up, making you do the same by not letting go of your hands. “Because I’m an idiot.” He lead you towards the door, kissing your cheek before opening it.

“You’re actually quite smart. Most of the time.” You winked at him as you exited the back office.

“When you said you knew things about me and you weren’t afraid to use them, what did you mean?”

“Oh, I just have pictures of the big, bad biker that everyone fears; wearing matching PJs with his kitten.”

Bucky gasped loudly. “You wouldn’t dare.”

You smiled brightly at him, leaning in to give him a quick kiss before letting go of his hand. “Cancel our “us” time via text again, and you’ll find out.” You waved goodbye to the guys and walked back to the front of the bar, leaving like nothing ever happened.

Everybody feared Bucky Barnes, but Bucky only feared two people in this world. You, and your mom.

As he took his seat back at the table, he asked himself how rude it would be to show up tomorrow at your family dinner with the guys from the MC. He’s definitely going to need protection. That’s what happens when you fall in love with the feisty girl who isn’t scared to call you out on your shit.

He wouldn’t change it for the world.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x female reader #James Buchanan Barnes #james buchanan barnes x female!reader #sebastian stan x female!reader #Sebastian Stan x reader

[jccatstudios]

Hi! Im pretty sure someone already asked you this but I really want to know. When working on the comic, do you make a script for yourself or do you "just" work with the book as it is? I know that making a script adds another work to the already long list, but working with the book as it is seems really overwhelming (many words me not likey)

You know, I don't think I have answered this before! Not in-depth, at least. Here's how I do it.

This is my extra annotated copy of the book (my original copy remains untouched). Got it used and as-is from Powell's. I also have a digital copy of the book when I can't bring this copy with me. I underline certain things I don't want to forget in the artwork, and write little notes to myself here and there. It's not shown on this page, but sometimes I cross things out that I won't/can't adapt like worldbuilding info and smaller flashbacks. If dialogue needs to be changed for lettering purposes, I do that when I'm actually making pages, not at the annotating stage. In the digital copy, I highlight character and setting descriptions to keep track of. This process is actually how I made my second graphic novel, which was an adaptation of a short story I wrote.

The ratio up top is my book page to comic page estimate. Last chapter's ratio was 10:21, which is in the ballpark of 3:7. With it, I've figured out how long each chapter and section would be just for fun. I even have a rough estimate of how long the entire book would be in comic format with nothing cut from it (try plugging in the numbers yourself if you'd like a fun surprise).

If this were a real professional project, I would write out a script myself. I'd want to keep the whole book in mind instead of doing it chapter by chapter. Working directly from the book for how things are structured is just a way to make the comic faster. Even thinking about the last chapter, I have ideas already for what I would change to create a stronger comic adaptation. For now though, I just go off the individual chapter to create something more one-to-one. This project has always been a way to improve my art and comic skills before I graduate, so doing structural rewrites to the story, even though that would be necessary for an actual adaptation, is out of the scope of this personal project I do outside of my classes.

#soc comic adaptation #asks #comics talk

[celaenaeiln]

can i know your thoughts on the “typical” nightwing ships (him with wally, roy, slade, kory, babs, apollo/midnighter, etc etc)?

ofc! <333

As a multishipper I literally love almost all of these

Wally

The softest ship ever! Reading about them is so cute. All cuddles and snuggles, and full on comfort.

It's the best friends to lovers trope

Haven't read about them in a really long while but they used to be my comfort ship. Like these two are so soft each other that they just make me feel warm inside.

Roy

Roydick is my spicy birdflash ship. Their chemistry was more heated with them constantly getting into arguements but falling together again. Going back to the comics I realize that Roy hero-worships Dick and that's why they get into so many fights. Roy literally thinks Dick is too perfect

There's this post about them which provides comic panels about Roy constantly comparing himself to Dick

But mostly Roy wants all of Dick. He wants Dick's 100% attention of them and he hates-HATES-that Dick gives everything to Batman. It drives him so mad because he thinks Batman doesn't deserve any of Dick's attention.

Literally tells Batman- you ain't shit. I feel bad Dick had to deal with you. He doesn't deserve it for all the greatness he is.

Roy wants all of Dick and that's where I ship them including their complicated issues. What makes their relationship so great is their problems. Neither of them will compromise (Dick won't let go of Bruce and Roy won't let go of that issue), but after all the screaming and fighting they still fall back together.

It's Dick that Roy goes to every time he has to deal with Cheshire.

Additional post:

>:> hehe

Ollie has the biggest grin on his face XD

Slade

My OTP LETS GO

Bruh I am so into them.

My post on why they were made for each other

YEA YEA YEAHHHHHH

Slade literally used the steam of Dick's shower to write a message in his bathroom mirror.

okay.

I am obsessed with Slade's obsession with Dick.

I love how in one comic Dick is literally just listing everything that's wrong with his life and Deathstroke is just standing there actively listening with his arms crossed.

He's never gonna give up that apprentice agenda.

Kory

Kory!! I LOVE DICKKORY SO MUCH!!!

When I think of love, they are the epitome of it. I didn't know it was possible to feel love through paper until I saw them. One look at the chemistry is overwhelming.

"Questions about what's right and what's not, I'll always have them. Questions about my loving you? No! I do. Very much."

Dickkory love is stronger than Dick's moral ethics and Dick's moral ethics?

I've never seen Dick love anyone as much as he did Kory. There are issues that came up ofcourse. I'm pretty sure there was an anti-alien sentiment among the general public (real life?) that affected them and on top of that the Batman office wanting Dick back so they just ripped him away from the titans and rewrote a whole new love story for them while trashing Kory for it but when the public's reaction and Dick's "he's so perfect everyone wants him so let's play around with love interests for him" aside, they were the king and queen of love.

What I love about their relationship is Dick loved Kori for who she was, not how she looked. And Kori loved Dick for who he was and not how he looked. On both sides, sometimes all people see of them are their beauty not their personality or strengths or being.

Barbara

Barbara. The reason I held off on writing this.

My feelings about Barbara are complicated.

She and Dick used to be my OTP. I loved them so much I actually hated Kori for a bit, thinking that Barbara was so much better-when I was solely in the fandom. But oh how the table have turned. Very recently the feather broke the camel's back so my feelings about the two of them have changed.

Long story short, they're better off friends. But my favorite moments come from mostly short haired Barbara comics.

This Barbara was AWESOME. She was so chill and cool and funny. She would be smart but not in a demeaning way to others.

Also Batgirl 2000 comic Dickbabs was so sweet (below)

Apollo/Midnighter

love them!

I think Midnighter would totally seduce Dick into a frenemies with benefits arrangement. I mean he's halfway there.

But aside from the usual flirting, Midnighter really, really, REALLY respects Dick's fight skills. I'm sure you've seen the panels of that already but since posts have a 30 image limit I'mma skip over that to the other reason: his greater-that-meta-human tenacity. Things and circumstances that take out metahumans, Dick surpasses through sheer will power and dedication.

So I mostly ship Dick/Midnighter but Apollo would probably join in too at some point.

Constantine

Never getting over how John-I don't do things I don't have to-Constantine saved someone because their body was hot and and their butt looked good. But later on in the comic he talks about how cool he was and what he describes Dick as is when asked about him is:

Additional exchange:

Tiger

His relationship with Tiger is AWESOME!!

It reminds me of his batman Dick relationship with Damian. Snarky and affectionate.

I ran out of image space :'0

But Dick basically gets Tiger-Spyral's number 1 and most loyal spy-to abandon the agency they work for, turn coat, and hunt them down to burn the oragnization into the ground instead. They're literally so funny. I loved Dick and Damian's cute banter and Tiger is just Damian aged up but meaner lol.

#idk if i forgot any #there's alot of people who love him or show an incredible amount of interest in him #dick grayson #nightwing #wally west #the flash #roy harper #arsenal #red arrow #slade wilson #deathstroke #koriandr #starfire #barbara gordon #oracle #batgirl #midnighter #john constantine #tiger #birdflash #roydick #sladick #sladin #dickkory #dickbabs #dicknighter #dickstantine #lol idk the ship name for dickxconstantine #dicktiger #thanks for the ask!

[orderforbrian]

ouuugghhh this comic is OLD but it's still one of my favorites 💖 i made rough blocks when the liveshow came out because jon and martin's meet cute/ugly is SO in character and so wonderfully funny

[Start ID: A two page comic of Jon and Elias from the Magnus Archives with Martin as a side character. Jon is a Persian man with short, dark curly hair and rectangular glasses. There are streaks of grey in his hair and eyebrows. He is wearing a green jacket with a grey sweatervest, white dress shirt, and green tie. Elias is a tan white man with slicked back brown hair, there are streaks of grey in his hair. He is wearing an expensive looking blue suit jacket, vest, dress shirt, and tie. He is also wearing long gold earrings in the shape of a closed eye. Martin is a mixed Polish/Korean man with dark wavy hair and glasses, and a beauty mark on his left chin.

1st panel: Jon slams open the door to Elias' office, looking the picture of rage. He is gripping a piece of paper angrily in one hand. A thought bubble shows a meme image of Spongebob choking Mr. Krabs from the series Spongebob. Elias appears unfazed by the interruption and greets Jon, "Oh! Hello, Archivist. I was wondering when you would finally catch me at my desk, haha."

2nd panel: Off panel, Elias asks "How was your first day?". Jon pushes up his glasses, gripping the paper even tighter and responds, "Undoubtedly horrendous".

3rd panel: Elias gives him an apologetic smile with his hands folded in front of his chest. He says, "Oh dear, that dreadful? Apologies you had to endure such unanticipated distress. What exactly happened to cause this reaction?". There is an arrow pointing to Elias that says "As if he didn't spend relish in every chaotic second".

4th panel: Jon begins to list things off, pointing to each finger as he does. Elias responds intermittently to these.

"Well, to start, the Archives is an ungodly mess. It's going to take ages before it gets sorted out. Why you didn't fire Gertrude is beyond me."

"Mm."

"None of the statements are compatible with modern technology so we've had to resort to using archaic tape recorders."

"Oh."

"And-"

"Oh, there's more."

5th panel: Jon tightens his fists in rage, gradually yelling, "I spent a large portion of my already stressful workday chasing after a bloody dog that your library transfer let loose into the Archives!"

6th: Jon begins to rant, shaking one hand back and forth in frustration. "Why is he there? What qualifications does he have? And absolutely what right? He's from Library, why do we need Library in the Archive staff, much more why him specifically? I requested Tim and Sasha who are far more competent than that - that bumbling idiot! Mr. Bouchard, I'd hate to overstep my boundaries but I really must say this was an unwise decision-". Elias cuts him off, a dialogue bubble with a simplified person smiling. "Oh dear - Archivist..."

Next page

1st panel: Elias gives Jon another apologetic smile. "I sent someone from Library because the Archives desperately needs someone skilled in cataloging. And, evidently, he has a Masters in parapsychology so give him time to prove himself a necessary addition to your assistant team."

2nd panel: Jon appears disgruntled and crosses his arms, grumbling, "Mmn. Well, he has quite a lot to prove after today...Apologies for doubting your decision, but if he continues to hinder our progress I will make my objections very clear." Elias says off panel, "I believe that's a fair compromise. Well, apologies again. As always, I'm open to feedback."

3rd panel: Elias continues off panel. "I'm a bit surprised though...". Jon looks up with wide eyes, a bead of sweat on his face. "Huh?". Elias continues, "You didn't find him the least bit charming? I thought he was rather amused the day of his interview, haha."

4th panel: Jon pushes up his glasses, attempting to hide a blush, and says, "A-as of my current opinion, no. I did not find his ineptitude charming if you'd kindly, Mr. Bouchard."

5th panel: Elias says off panel with a simplified smiling face, "Well, I do hope you all get along soon enough...". Jon presses the paper in his hand to his chin, looking off to the side. He appears disgruntled and is blushing too. Thought bubbles of Martin surround him. One is Martin appearing flustered, his eyes appearing as swirls within his glasses. Another is Martin hovering over Jon, asking if he is okay. Another is Martin looking up with a hand to his chin, stating "I mean...yeah, probably!". The last is Martin holding his glasses and giving a flustered smile, saying "Haha, s-sorry!". Jon thinks to himself, "Hrmm...He might be cute, but he's a complete airhead! Ugh. Hopefully today was just a singular incident."

End ID.]

#tma #the magnus archives #jmart #jonmartin #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #tma fanart #literally obssessed with their first meeting like martin really was like this handsome prick is gonna fire me #and jon is like this cute idiot is gonna ruin my career #order up! art tag #comics are all fun and game until you have to write the image id lawl

[mchlgayser]

─── HIS DISTURBANCE ft itoshi rin ( ✮ )

synopsis: it's one of the days where your boyfriend got a day off from his hectic life as a superstar footballer, and what better way to spend it than to annoy his ass?

warning: not a part

daily note: i randomly had this idea while i stroll the mall with my family. one of my favorite moments is when a random idea popped up in my head whenever but settling down to write smh. btw this is short and kind of ooc-ish rin. happy reading. (this can be used for any gender. no use of pronouns is mentioned)

Rin is inside his practice room like usual, doing his morning yoga when you entered to give him a mug of coffee - and to annoy his non-humorous ass.

You subtly open the wooden door to see him sitting down, legs crossed and his eyes packed, what they call meditating.

'Hey, cutie pancake!' You intentionally yell to startle him. Rin opens one eye looking at you with one brow furrow 'What you called me?' You smile at him but play dumb, tilting your head 'What do you mean? Anyway, I got you your coffee!' You give him the coffee and he thanked you.

'I got to go, got an assignment. See you when you are done lil' burger!'

You could practically hear him groan to himself, obviously knowing what you were up to.

Once you are done with your work you stroll to the kitchen seeing Rin - surprisingly with a headphone on, and doing his breakfast. You mischievously smirk and shrug to yourself 'Oh! What's this?' Rin mentally jump at your voice 'I didn't know you enjoy music now, baby booger?' He fasten his hand to smother the peanut butter on his bread and dash out to the living room. You watch him leave with a pursing lip and finally bursted into a fit of laughter.

You two are currently out to a supermarket since you are out of groceries 'I'm gonna go check the dairy section...' You inform as he whizzes, strolling away with the trolley.

You turn your heels around and get stuff you listed and met up with Rin after you was done. Rin on the other side is pooling with his sweats under his hoodie. He knows what type of a person you are and right now he feels nothing but afraid for his own life.

The two of you lined up at the cashier to pay and then you finally said 'Oh shoot, I forgot my almond milk. I'm gonna be back, sweet doodle.' Rin froze in a trance realizing that the cashier, the person in front of him, and the person behind him - they all can hear you, one stifling a laugh, and the other with a comical sweat on their faces.

When you came back, you shoot Rin a smile but one stare your way is enough to assure you that you are dead meat.

'That was so embarrassing, you know? I don't mind you calling me that at home but in public too? Gosh, I hope none of them catch my face.' You watch his back heaving up and down with an unsteady breaths 'Rin-'

'Next time, do that only when we are at home.' He suddenly turns around, point finger pointing at you accusingly. You stifle a laugh but failed and ended up snorting. He groans in frustration 'I mean it Y/n. Don't. Do. It. Again. Ever.' He punctuated like a mother who scolds their child. You firmly nod with a pursing lip.

'I promised. I won't do it ever again!' You emphasized the word 'ever' making him nod.

He pulls you towards him to hug you

'Aww, you can't stay mad at me huh, lil meat?' He broke the hug and left you frowning and chuckling to yourself.

#i ★ writes jud3 ✸ #itoshi rin #rin itoshi #blue lock #bllk #blue lock rin #blue lock itoshi rin #bllk rin #bllk itoshi rin #itoshi rin angst #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin headcanons #itoshi rin imagines #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin x y/n #blue lock angst #bllk angst #blue lock x male reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x reader #blue lock x y/n #bllk x female reader #bllk x y/n #bllk x you #bllk x reader #blue lock drabbles #bllk drabbles #blue lock fic #blue lock fluff

[bro-atz]

a virgin's dream

in which: jinsik has even more to learn (wink wonk)

pair: idol!jinsik/afab!reader

word count: 2.3k

content: smut, first time sex, sofa sex, unprotected sex (remember to wrap it up irl!), slight cockwarming?, completely consensual!

author's note: as promised, here's the second part to virgin!jinsik because we definitely developed further than just the bj @eyeryis

tag list: @eyeryis @sinnarols apply for the permanent taglist here! part one | part two

“Baby,” you told Jinsik as you wiped your mouth and stood up. “I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t move.”

“Huh?!”

And with that, you disappeared, leaving Jinsik all sorts of flustered— there he was, naked from the waist down and covered in his own cum. He was panicking internally for about two minutes before you returned. You saw tears prick his eyes and immediately cupped his face, your thumbs wiping the corners of his eyes.

“Where’d you go?” he said, his voice cracking.

“I just wanted to clean my mouth because I wanna kiss you, but I didn’t wanna gross you out since I just gave you a blowjob,” you explained calmly.

Jinsik blinked at you. He never thought about something like that, and he was honesty kind of grateful you did because, you were right, it would have grossed him out a little. You smiled at his adorable face and placed a light kiss on his lips. Jinsik closed his eyes and kissed you back, his nose rubbing against yours slightly as your kisses intensified.

The kisses were nice and all, but to be honest, Jinsik desperately wanted to keep going. He wanted to make you feel good now.

“Y-Y/N, um,” Jinsik stuttered as he leaned away from you slightly. “Please, can we, uh… Can we go further? Can I…?”

“Are you sure? We don’t have protection…”

Jinsik’s eyes trembled as they went wide. He didn’t even think about that. You could see all of the emotions in the world cross his face as he tried to gauge the limited options you had, and you couldn’t help but smile at him. You kissed him lightly and whispered, “Baby, it’s okay if you want to do it. We can do it without protection.”

“A-are you sure? We don’t have to if it’s—”

“I’m sure. I want this as much as you do… I don’t think I’ll be able to curb my lust otherwise. I’m on the pill, so it should be okay.”

Jinsik hiccuped as he replied, “Oh-okay.”

“Only this one time though, okay? We should be safer the next time.”

Hearing you say that there was going to be a next time lit a fire within him. He got so excited that he felt like he was about to jump over the moon or something at that point. Then, his brain died— you started stripping.

You stripped right in front of him, and you stripped so slowly, giving him a tiny little show in the process. This was his first time, after all, so you wanted to do his first time justice.

Jinsik had never seen you naked before, and while you did look somewhat like what he had imagined at some point, he was still not prepared for what you had coming for him. His eyes couldn’t help but lock onto the matching bra and panty set that you (thankfully) wore that day, and he was about to drool just looking at you, just staring at you.

You noticed his dick slowly harden the longer he stared at you, prompting you to tell him softly, “Baby, do you wanna kick your pants off for me?”

It was almost comical the way Jinsik listened to you so fast. His pants went flying into a corner of the room, and his eyes glinted eagerly at you. You straddled him and sat gently on his lap, his rock hard cock pressing against you. It was when you placed your hands lightly on his shoulders did his jaw completely drop.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N, my love…” he murmured, making your face flush pink.

Jinsik’s hands rested on your waist as you brought your lips to his to place a light kiss. Your kisses deepened, and Jinsik’s hands rubbed along your waist, his fingers aching to feel the softness of your skin, making you moan slightly into his mouth. Jinsik felt his dick throb painfully the more you turned him on, and it took everything in him to keep it together just so that he wouldn’t fully obliterate you.

When you stopped kissing him, he let out the most adorable whine that made you, too, want to fuck him fast and hard. But, the reason you kissed him, was so that you could pull his shirt off, revealing his toned torso— and that’s when you realized you actually had never seen your boyfriend naked before until that moment. You were honestly very surprised to see how toned he was, but then again, he was constantly practicing, and his arm muscles were already insane as it is, so why would you expect any less from the rest of his body?

“Oh, God, Jinsik,” you inhaled sharply. “You’re so hot… I don’t think I can control myself.”

“Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it,” Jinsik responded softly. “Have your way with me, and teach me, please.”

“Okay, then… Take my bra off for me.”

Jinsik promptly did as you asked— well, it took him a second because he was confused by how hooks on a bra worked, but when he figured it out, he pulled at the center of your bra and immediately pulled it off you before tossing it aside haphazardly. The second he got one look at your bare breasts, he nearly drooled and his eyes nearly bore a hole through them. His hands, which were frozen on your waist, moved to your chest with your guidance, and immediately, the boy knew exactly what you wanted him to do.

At first, Jinsik squeezed and kneaded your breasts delicately, but after a few seconds of that, he brought his lips to your nipple and left a light kiss before fully planting on it and sucking painfully on it. Your back arched and pushed you further into him the harder he sucked. Jinsik, as unexperienced as he was, knew how to suck your tits and he knew how to suck them so fucking well because you were steadily losing more and more of your mind. You clung to his shoulders and let out light, raspy moans while trying to make sure you didn’t dig your nails into his skin— you didn’t want to hurt him just yet since it was his first time.

“Baby,” you whispered in between sweet moans. “I want you inside me.”

Blood rushed to several places in Jinsik’s body when he heard you utter those words. He looked up at you, his eyes blurry and dazed as he gave you a slight nod. Sitting up, you moved your panties to the side, positioned him at your entrance, and slowly sat down.

Jinsik wasn’t absurdly large or anything, but he still stretched you out, and he was long enough for his cock to go deep inside you. You gasped and bit your lower lip, leaning your head back as you remained seated and fully savored the feeling of your boyfriend’s cock filling you up.

Meanwhile, Jinsik was seeing stars. He felt like your pussy was molded just for his cock, and was obsessed. His thoughts were getting dirtier by the second, and he desperately wanted to speak his mind.

Your pussy is so hot that I feel like it’s going to melt my fucking dick off.

But, Jinsik couldn’t bring himself to say that. Those kind of words were not in his gentleman’s dictionary. So, instead, he said softly, “You’re so warm, baby. Oh God… I’m melting.”

You brought your head down and looked at him, his eyes half-lidded, and a woozy smile on his face. You felt his hand move from your waist to the back of your head before he guided your head down, his lips meeting yours gently. He kissed you softly, his other hand gripping your waist with a sense of urgency.

Jinsik wanted to be patient. He wanted to take things at your pace, but fuck, he wanted to fuck you. He wanted to see the way your body moved as you bounced up and down on his lap. And, again, he wanted to vocalize these thoughts to you, but his mind was all over the place.

Luckily, you read his mind and said, “I’m going to start moving, okay?”

He gave you a slight nod and moved his hand back down so that both of them rested on your waist. You clung to his shoulders as began to raise and lower yourself at a slower, steady pace, immediately making him moan. He held onto your waist tightly, unintentionally making you clench, causing him to groan in pure bliss.

It wasn’t until you sped up did Jinsik realize that he was not going to be able to hold out the same way he did when you were giving him the blow job. He was already breathless and letting out breathy signs and moans the more you bounced.

You moved your hands to grip onto the back of the sofa, allowing you to bounce your ass rapidly on his lap, his length nearly hitting your cervix in the process. You couldn’t help but let out little cries every time your waist hit his lap, and your cries turned into loud moans when you felt Jinsik thrust up, his waist slamming into yours as he met you halfway.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good— I can’t hold out much longer,” Jinsik said through gritted teeth as he leaned his head back and pressed it against the sofa cushion.

“Cum inside,” you said while panting.

Jinsik responded with a meek nod, his eyes squeezed shut as he did his best to hold out. It was when you held his face and kissed him passionately did his entire body tremble. He pushed your waist down and kept you there as his cock twitched and shuddered, his cum spurting and filling you up entirely. The two of you were breathless as you remained seated, his cum slowly starting to dribble down onto his thighs.

Just as you were about to get off his lap, Jinsik moved you so that he was pinning you down on the sofa, his cock still deep inside you. You stared at him with wide eyes, his eyes dark and lustful gazing right back at you.

“We’re not done just yet, Y/N,” Jinsik said, his voice low.

You felt your fingers and toes tingle with excitement upon hearing him say that. You wordlessly wrapped your arms around his neck and ran your fingers through the hair on the back of his head as he gripped your waist again, preparing to move.

“How are you still so tight?” Jinsik gasped as he slid his dick back and forth inside you.

The sound of his waist hitting yours echoed in the room as he moved slowly but powerfully. You grasped his hair tightly in your fists, moans and gasps leaking out of you like anything. You bit your lower lip to try and keep your noises to yourself, but Jinsik didn’t like the fact that you were biting on your lip so hard that you might’ve actually started bleeding, so he pressed his hands against the sofa right above your shoulders and lowered his head to kiss you, his lips enveloping your lower lip.

Jinsik’s gyrations got stronger, causing you to moan against his lips. Jinsik felt his orgasm approaching once again. He pressed his lips against yours even harder, his cock pushing further and further into you with each thrust. You saw stars flood your vision when he went so far deep and tapped your cervix with the tip, and you moved your head away from him and cried out as you came, your knees and thighs shaking as the wave of pleasure overtook you.

Seeing you on cloud nine because of how well he fucked you made him elated, but it also made him unable to hold his own load yet again. Groaning, he slammed his waist against your buttocks and came in you again, his hot load warming you up.

Moments later, Jinsik collapsed on top of you, his face buried in the nook of your neck. He was still inside you as the two of you shifted and laid on your side, his arms wrapped around your waist as you rested one on his shoulder and the other on the back of his head. His face moved from your neck to your breasts, his nose pressed in between them.

“Mmm, baby, that was amazing,” Jinsik mumbled into your skin.

“You liked it that much, huh?” you asked with a tiny giggle.

“It was perfect. Perfect, just like you.”

You felt your face heat up with his compliment. He looked up at you with the most precious, content smile on his face, his arms hugging you closer to him. You pressed a light kiss against his forehead.

“Baby, I think we should get cleaned up before the guys get home,” you said softly.

“They’ll be out for another hour, Y/N. Let’s just stay here for a bit…”

“No, they’ll be back in about twenty minutes.”

“…We fucked for that long?”

Jinsik looked at you with wide eyes, making you do your best to stifle a laugh. You nodded in response, the boy immediately pulling out and sitting up. He grabbed tissues from the tissue box on the coffee table and cleaned you up first before cleaning himself, his hands moving quickly and hurriedly.

“Let’s take a shower, Jinsik,” you told him.

“T-together?” Jinsik’s face started turning red.

“Yes, together. We don’t have that much time left before they get here.”

“How was it?” was the first thing Minjae said to you and your boyfriend upon returning to the dorms.

“How’d you know?!” Jinsik exclaimed, mortified as he thought Minjae was talking about the fact that the two of you had sex.

“…You told us you were going to watch a movie with Y/N?”

Jinsik’s face went bright red. You cackled and responded, “We ended up watching a drama instead. It was good.”

You felt Jinsik’s eyes land on you and smiled as you gazed into his eyes.

“Really good.”

#bro <3 dave #broatz #xikers #xikers jinsik #ham jinsik #jinsik smut #jinsik x reader #ham jinsik xikers #jinsik xikers #jinsik xikers smut #xikers jinsik smut #ham jinsik smut

[skyward-floored]

I think I’m coming down with a cold again and possibly have a fever but I’m here to scream about the update some more anyway! (and analyze a bit but mostly scream). Dawn part 7 here we go!

(All images belong to @linkeduniverse <3)

First off I have to say this was my favorite panel I think, it’s so pretty. The faint glow! The colors! The cape over his shoulder! Amazing. This truly was Sky’s update, I loved every bit of focus he got. Jojo fed us well :D

So it looks like I was wrong about Sky reading everyone’s mail. He just immediately took off after the mailman instead (and spent all morning chasing him ha!),

Side note but I love the npc guy. He’s simple but still Zelda-y. the character design in this comic is just👌

Looks like the mailman has a list of who he’s supposed to deliver to, or at least that’s my guess. It could be a map maybe, but that probably wouldn’t do much good since he’s time traveling?? How does he do it. Don’t question the magic of the postman I guess.

*green hill zone music intensifies*

Shoutout to Sky’s face here, I make the same expression when I’m trying to chase after my nephew and stop him from eating crayons

This looks like a postcard no joke, I'd frame this and put it on my wall. Plus the way the trees were done in the background is really neat, there’s something just really pleasing about this panel. Also the return of Sky: Just Standing There

They’re all bein silly <3

...except for Four. Because I think him and Warriors both realize that Sky isn’t just telling them what he was doing all morning— he’s got something important to say, something they all actually need to know.

(Downfall duo laughing together I love them)

Also I agree with everyone saying Warriors is close to snapping— they’ve all had a pretty stressful 24 hours, but Warriors has been breaking up arguments and repeatedly checking on everyone while they’re struggling, and... I don’t think he’s had a break. Take a nap bud, please?

SKY TALKING TO FI MY BELOVED he's hoping there’s enough of her aware to help him dowse hhhhh. And then he’s so sad she didn’t seem to hear him waahhh 😭

It doesn’t look to me like she truly helped much, but maybe Fi gave just enough of a nudge for Sky to find the postman’s footprints? Even in her sleep? She is glowing just a bit there... Interesting to think about.

It’s confirmed that the postman uses the portals! And that the Shadow is alive and kicking! Uh-oh! (Also does anyone else think this one seems more... firey? Then the last one? Maybe it's just me).

And the chopped-off darknut head is still there too.... and I’ll bet you twenty rupees somebody is going to kick it when the Links go through the portal later. (My guess is Wild but I’d put my money on Legend or Wind too).

I’m also really curious where that portal leads... My guess is either Twilight’s Hyrule or Sky’s, based on what hints we’ve been getting, but I really don’t know. It’ll be fun to see!

*Wind rapidly thinking of at least three conspiracy theories*: SUS

Also an amazing expression from him I’m laughing so hard, he really said 3:<

Tag yourself I’m Four

Also Sky just chugging away at the stamina potion, poor guy XD he must be beat from all that running around, I hope he has some more time to sit before the Links get moving.

(And I mentioned this in another post, but Legend looks so alarmed at this information, as does Wild... it’s not going to be pretty when they cross paths with the Shadow again, that’s for sure)

I love when Time breaks out the dramatic language... makes me remember that this guy is going to be the Hero’s Shade someday (who’s speech is 99% dramatic things).

Now the Links just have to decide what to do next... will they stay another day at the inn for Twilight’s sake, or get moving right away? Is Four going to confront Twilight about the dark magic he uses to turn into Wolfie?

So many questions... but in the meantime I will gladly continue to reread this amazing update, I really loved this one :D

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #linked universe analysis #lu sky #and a bunch of other guys I don't feel like taggig #update spoilers #rambles from the floor

[kosmicdream]

The FATE of FEAST FOR A KING

.. and Nasty Red Dogs… 

And some other miscellaneous thoughts about comics, writing, and time.... AND ENDINGS...

============= 

As I’m approaching 10 years on FFAK and NRD is currently 5, I’ve been reflecting a lot on How far this journey with comics has taken me and how far I still have yet to go. For those unaware, my first webcomic was actually Eggshells, which started in 2011, but i only started posting pages publicly in 2013. It too is unfinished, but its planned for 7 chapters. (I’m currently working on chapter 5, which probably will come out early next year.) I have 9 ongoing comics I’m working on. NINE!! 3 of those are FFAK related. (FFAK, After Dinner Treat, and the prequel series “Help.”) It is so many comics though. And beyond that! I have two other stories I’ve been working on for the past few years in secret, one being Nice Blue Cats, which I might still draw as a comic someday.. As well as a series of “one shots” that is meant to be its own collection. Slugmom and “The Teacher & The Fairy” are part of these one shot collections. Which, uh, it was designed to help me practice writing short stories. Which TT&TF is now going to be three parts long, and roughly 300 pages. So I guess that’s short enough…? Ha.. laughs… Anyway, as I was saying.. Sometimes I’m sure, readers might wonder. “Do you ever feel overwhelmed, with so many projects Kosmic?” Yeah dude. I sure fucking do. I got 9 of them! That’s more than a full pokemon team of projects that are potentially a decade + of work. A couple of them already are a decade old/older at this point. (Praeymoon is actually one of my oldest-lasting projects, even tho its first chapter only finally released in 2023.. I first attempted to draw ch1 back in 2016, but was unable to finish it and scrapped the “full color” angle i was trying then. ) All my current ongoing comic projects are as follows: Feast for a King, Nasty Red Dogs, Eggshells, The Teacher & the Fairy, Replacer, The Eyes of Miasma, FFAK: After Dinner Treat, FFAK: Help, are all written. The only one which isnt fully written is Praeymoon, which I don’t mind because the way that story is organized is almost more of a sandbox-fantasy world of mini stories. I’ll be honest, if you havent heard of Replacer or The Eyes of Miasma, I don’t blame you- its not that i don’t like those stories. They just kind of are the “most neglected” comics yet I’m also kind of amazed they exist at all, like I DONT know how I found the time to draw over 100 pages for both of them. They also have fully written outlines and all things considered, are probably only going to be under 400-500 pages in length. But that’s still a decent amount of work there. Its been ten years since I more or less started making webcomics… and as I plan, and try to calculate all my projects for the next 10 years, my main priority at the moment is well.. Finishing all of these fucking stories one way or another. Its hard! I don’t know if I can as I put way too much on my plate. But at the same time like.. Whatever. I could easily drop most of them, if I felt inclined to - but I don’t. They are my library of work, and I’ve sort of made an artist oath to myself that I will see as many of them to the end as I can. I’m excited that three are very close to its end. (Nasty Red Dogs, The Teacher & the Fairy, and Eggshells.) After that well.. I’ll see what I can cross off my list next once I get there.. That’s still going to take years to get those done. But hopefully not too many. 

[Spoilers for potential LENGTHS of FFAK/NRD.. And other things.. I speak very transparently about writing and working on comics here AND including my thoughts on ENDINGS.. You’ve been warned]

I’m comfortable enough sharing that the fairy comic is 3 parts, Eggshells is 7 chapters, but when it comes to FFAK/NRD.. Its much harder to give an estimate, or if sharing those things will only be disappointing or annoying to hear about.. If you have ever been around me for more than 10 minutes, i am constantly talk about the “length left” on these projects a lot anyway. At night, i count them in my head. In the day, I write little lists as if I’ve forgotten the names of them.. They are MY LIST.

 But for those who do not know and wish to, NRD is likely going to end with 10 chapters. I have extended this in the past, so it could still change.. but it only really has gotten “longer” due to pacing of scenes rather than the actual content. And Honestly, it was paced out specifically to avoid this next chapter. Not that I didn’t want to draw it, its because i was Scared to do it.. Why? Because there’s cars I have to draw in it. And dogs. I have drawn those things before, at least once or twice. But I do not enjoy drawing cars or dogs. Dogs are okay now, but i hate that they have legs. Dont give me references, i have those. Its just how my brain is, with those fuckign legs and how there’s four of them. I know practice makes perfect. Or do-able. I have drawn amost 1000 pages of NRD, i dont remember how they bend and i’ve forgiven myself for knowing there’s just some things god cannot do, which is to give kosmic the ability to look at a dog leg and understand. Anyway. Because of this reason, somehow, finishing NRD with it only possibly being 4 more chapters, still feels harder than finishing ALL of FFAK - which (drumroll) might be .. only around 10 or 12 chapters left. Yes, you heard me- for the second AND third arc. 10 or 12 more. Will that also change? Probably!!!!!! Like, yes… its been 9 years and I’ve completed a lot more than just 10 chapters of comics in that time.. But wrapping up a story is way harder and I dont know what that’s like..yet! But i feel still confident that i will. I mean, i don’t really have any other choice than to experience it. I used to recoil and fall apart just emotionally contemplating finishing FFAK. my FUCKING baby. My joy. You mean that has to end?? NEVER. My attachment to it and the characters was incomparable to anything else I had done, and in my mind ever WILL make… (and that is still true.) But.. I’m okay with that now and I actually look forward to seeing how it could end up. Even if its bad! 

Its kind of weird to say, I just don’t really think it will be.. super good? Like.. it could be? I don’t know how readers will react. I dont even know how I feel about the whole thing.. I have felt so many feelings about this comic already, now I’m kind of.. Past it in a new stage. Zen like peace almost. There’s just.. so much that I wanted to PUT in FFAK and so much i could STILL put in. But I kind of just am okay with what i wrote, does that even make sense? The whole comic has felt like such a fluke to me, from the very start. And I managed to accidentally make so many great things in it I don’t actually understand sometimes. And my dreams for the comic has been nearly limitless. I couldn’t possibly contain all the feelings I’ve had over this story over the many years I have been making it, and all the incredible narrative outcomes I could see the characters going in.. the possibilities, the parallels.. The anime music videos..  I would NOT compare my writing style to GRRM, I haven’t read his books. but I can’t help but feel a bit like a weird baby version of him with the amount of cast members I have to push around and draw.. And I want to be clear. If FFAK was written as a book, it wouldn’t happen. I cannot write books. I do not think writing books is easier/faster than making comics, but sometimes it is hard to have to draw everyone. Point is, I understand the reality of a long-term comic project now, I have numbers and logs to prove it  and my range. And I’m fairly consistent, even in my low days. So.. in recent years my writing style has.. has changed to accommodate.. Those.. General Realities i’ve observed in myself. 

That’s why the second arc excites me. It has a lot of uhh, urgency that underlies it. You might have already noticed a change in the tone in chapter 16, which I’ve been working on for almost a year now. (I mean, I’ve been working on the written version for.. LOL.. much longer.) Maybe you haven’t! It could all just be from my own POV with how differently i feel that I delegate time to characters now. I did not start “writing” FFAK until chapter 10, and then i did not really start WRITING writing ffak until about.. Honestly, i want to say as late as 2019. It TOOK SO LONG you guys. I dont even know how many fucking thousands of pages of madness word documents I’ve got, with revision after revision and trying to list, contain, every possibly plotline… character backstory.. Blah blah blah.. Ive cut it down so much its impressive only to me. I don’t remember my lore anymore , and i love it. My readers probably know my lore better, and I don’t love it. Except when it benefits me. Then Its good. I would not describe myself as a RUTHLESS cut THROAT author, im actually too way sentimental to really let go of anyone. That’s why it took me so long to kill off Rock, but also because I wanted spoon to look really sexy and evil and that’s hard to do sometimes when I cant remember what half side he is. And when he was flipping around, I had to actually make a paper doll for him so i could TRY .. TRY to draw his arm on the correct side. Sometimes I didn’t. I just let it go if the drawing is good enough and i let it be a fun game for the readers to catch. But anyway, That’s why characters like Aeschylus are still around. Now that time has passed, I kind of regret it. Rome was right.. I dont need Aeschylus here and I’m mad he brought his friend Randall too. That being said, they’re some of my favorite characters in this arc even if they’re totally useless. In general, i have tried my best to not repeat all my writing sins and all my regrets of arc 1. I would not have been able to do this without the help of NRD to help get me to see that I can get attached and motivated to write new stories. When I hit my writing block in 2016/2017, it almost broke FFAK. FFAK still continued, but it also didn’t. But i was patient, and i worked through it.. And now I look forward to the ends of my comics, not because I want them to end but I’m very deeply excited for all the new opportunities my imagination to go to. I don’t know what that will be like. I don’t know how long it will still take me to get there, but I have it on [digital] paper and it does feel good to see that. Its affirming. I feel like i have a clear mission and I feel strong enough to really do it and commit to it. The second arc has barely started but in my heart I’ve made peace with the ending, whatever it might actually result as. 

Plus if I finish it and its so bad, I’m sure that will be inspiring in itself! People might actually write fanfics!! I think a lot of readers are NOT going to enjoy the ships, for one. The MEAN greedy part of me hopes they don’t. That’s the most ruthless part of my writing to me is the ship choices. Oh! My evil mind. I mean theres no possible way to please everyone, or even myself, but there is a possible way to displease a lot of people. Including myself. So that’s kind of the route I find myself drawn to. Why? Because it gets me out of the hole of like.. I dunno, being stuck. 

I used to write out a lot of big posts but over the years, I’ve kinda stopped. Mostly bc they were honestly really repetitive..or about lore that didn’t truly matter too much… That hasn’t really changed. This post is more or less “im still working on it, everyone! Just hang tight! Wow it’ll be a crazy wild ride” but it also is something I wanted to write to myself as words of encouragement. This has been a tough year. Like so tough that its hard to think about. But its very nice to feel like, i guess, my drive for my stories hasn’t gone anywhere. If anything, i really feel like i’ve gone through the mourning and ego death of “not being able to write a thing how you want” and now I’ve made total peace with it. Its just gonna be what it is, and I like that actually. When my life is tough, my comics at the moment serve as a place of hope for me - and assurance that I can survive through tough years. That’s the message they have ultimately given me, finished or not. And… I honestly don’t think of FFAK or NRD as my masterpieces or anything, but i know they might very well be the only stories people will know of when they think of me. If they think of me! So I wanna do a complete job with those. Rest assured, it’ll get there. I cant make big promises about all the comics I work on… even the bonus comics for FFAK, but at least those main two are my main priorities. That has not changed. THE FIRE is still in me. Even if FFAK took a like.. Mental.. 5 year hiatus its back baby. 

I’m about 30 pages in to my 50 page script for chapter 16, so I guess it’ll be around 300-400 pages more before its done. Things are picking up speed! So it could be less. I am also preparing for the monster that is the 7th nasty red dogs chapter. I cannot stress ENOUGH that this next chapter, I have put off since chapter 4. Yes, I’ve actually buffed the story out to be longer than it intended, just to avoid drawing it. I even put a horse guy in there, I never draw horses because those ALSO have legs but they’re worse than dog legs. And, its not that i didn’t want to draw this part of the comic! But I didn’t think i could do it. It intimidated me. It still does, but, I’m gonna do it already. I know chapters 8-10 will be hard too but like…eh… I know in my heart its gonna really be about 7 for me. It always has been about 7 to me.. 2024 will be a big year for my comics for sure, just because of that alone I think. Not only will I have chapter 16 done, as the first step of the 2nd arc and a new adventure of my apocalyptic wormy drama, I’ll be facing my fears of the dog variety. Its TIME. 

I’m so happy people have stuck around for my work, or shared it with others, even if they’re a strange mess. Its interesting to see, who comes and goes. I still enjoy refreshing my comments every morning when I wake up, and right before I go to bed. Its comforting.

My closing thoughts on this. I don’t HATE the ending of FFAK. I… like it! Its an ending. But I LOVE the ending to NRD. i think that ones legit good, i hope. With FFAK, part of me kinda hopes that turning up the pressure on myself of proceeding anyway will help the story. I don’t really know, or expect the ending to change though LOL…. Maybe i’ll come up with something better, but it will be too late so I cant do it or something, and then we can ALL write fanfics together of something else. Then sometimes I think about GUNNM and how the first ending was retconned but then last order was like? Basically the first ending again? I dont know actually, its hard to remember. THATS NOT GOING TO HAPPEN BTW. Also the ending is not everyone dies, even though that ending is fun and tempting. I didn’t do it, because end of evangelion already exists and its got a great song to go along with it too. YES it is also tempting to have someone go “WELL That was A FEAST.. For a KING” as the like final line, but I.. it wont wont. I prommy i take the ending seriously.

The reason I wanted to write all this, with webcomics, I think in general too people are so scared about writing their big comics that take 328523895235 years and the ending being bad. I see so many webcomics just, kinda die before the finale.. Which I totally understand, But I just.. Wanna show everyone that its much better and much more satisfying to just write the ending even if its a fucking disaster LOL. Because ultimately, its a webcomic. I don’t even know how to spell but people read mine! And so.. If theres anything I feel like i can promise and deliver to the world of the internet/my readers, is this big fucking disaster mess.. But it will end someday! And I’ll miss it. I hope readers will too, when that day comes (?) in probably another… 10 years…. idk.... BUT UNTIL THEN.. I hope you’ll enjoy the rest of chapter 16!!!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-Kosmic Dream

#ffak #feast for a king #nasty red dogs #long post #webcomics

[gildedkrone]

drabble 4: loves me like i'm brand new (ft. simon ghost riley & gn!reader)

It’s days like these that are the worst—the words of self-doubt are knives to your frail confidence in yourself. The report came out all wrong, the barista messed up the coffee order for the client and you were drenched when it rained and the umbrella was missing from your bag.

It’s day like these that you feel the most doubt in yourself. Doubt in who you were and where you are going with your life and the feeling of not being able to do anything without messing up.

The house is dimly lit and you opened it to the smell of food cooking. It’s a rarity for Simon to be home before you, and a bigger rarity he is cooking dinner as you dropped off your soaked jacket on the shoe rack. You catch a glimpse of the kitchen and chef Simon whipping up something in the pan.

“Yer quiet today. Something happened?”

He turns the fire down to address you with arms crossed across the hello kitty apron too comical for a man of his demeanour. When you hesitate, he turns the stove off and crosses the room in strides.

“Gotta speak up, darling. Can’t hear you if yer gonna mumble.”

He sighs and pulls you in for a hug. His embrace is warm and you sink into his arms as he ran a hand down your spine.

“Sweetheart, what happened?”

You tell him about the feelings and he nods along encouragingly. When you are finished, he gives you a kiss on your forehead.

“Yer not dumb, love. Could name a list if you want.” That earns him a reluctant chuckle. “Gonna have to change your mind somehow. Repeat after me, yea?”

“Today is a bad day.”

“Today is a bad day.”

“It doesn’t define who I am.”

“It doesn’t define who I am.”

“I am worthy of love and respect.”

“I …” His eyebrows raise slightly.

“Say it with me—I am worthy of love and respect.”

“I am worthy of love and respect.”

“Tomorrow’s a different day.”

“Tomorrow’s a different day.”

“You’ll always have me, darling.”

“That an affirmation too?”

He messes your hair affectionately as you swat his hands away. “Cheeky brat,” he tuts.

“Your cheeky brat.”

“My cheeky brat.” And he gives you another peck on the cheek and the feelings dissipate like water under a hot sun in a house warm as it is cozy.

Do not edit, reupload or translate my works without prior consent || masterlist

#gk's drabbles #fanfic #cod x reader #cod mw2 #x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #cod #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost fanfiction #simon riley x you #reader insert #ghost x gn reader #ghost x gender neutral reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #call of duty

[linonyang]

FROM THE OTHER SIDE.

pairing: non-idol!felix & gender-neutral!reader

featuring: svt jeonghan and seungkwan

genre: fluff, very minimal comedy (just boohan + reader bickerings), lowkey soulmates au, part of painting faith universe

warnings: none

word count: 2.1k words

synopsis: all you hoped was for you and the cousin's heir to be fated to meet each other. but perhaps the string of fate (and your brothers) quickly pulled you to him sooner than you thought.

tag list: @kpopstuffs @awooghan @cosmic-railwayxo (join the taglist here!)

note: well,,, i am back? here's how felix and his (future) lover met for the spin off/prequel of some sort i'm writing for the painting faith universe!! sorry if this appears to be a little bad and bland since i'm quite rusty like it's been MONTHS since i last wrote something long lol (and yes, i made boohan the reader's older brothers bc why not?? :p) ... hope you'd enjoy this bit !!!

another note: there's no need to read painting faith for this!!! this can be a standalone fic :> just take note that this universe has rival gang au elements, so expect bits of the concept to be mentioned here, that's all !!!

© linonyang - all rights reserved. please do not copy, translate, modify, repost, or claim as yours.

That face in particular felt like home.

It felt familiar. There is something comforting with the freckles on his cheeks that are as beautiful as the mysteries of space, along with the lashes sitting as delicate as flower petals. The graceful movements and the gentle smile on his face are enough to brighten the sky and calm the seas. 

All you know is that he is related to some of the notorious figures of the city. Also, you only know his name and nothing else. You do not know how he lives, what he likes, and what he exactly does.

You just hope you get to cross paths someday, just to know him.

Seeing him walk around the streets every weekend as a regular among the tented market stalls was enough for you to grow this puzzling curiosity over the Leyva. You have spent the past months sighting the boy every time you spent your early mornings with your brothers at a cafe nearby.

You were brought back to reality by your older brothers who caught you staring at the noble across the stone road. 

“Why are you drooling over that Leyva, _____?”

“Kwannie, the boy is not a killer, unlike his family! Plus, I think he’s quite handsome, there’s no denying that the Leyvas has such genes—”

“Says the narcissist who always admits he’s the most handsome bachelor of the city—”

You laugh and move one of them away from the other, in case anything physical happens. They naturally don’t bicker with each other, but a really great laugh always omits from you whenever they do once in a while. 

Attempting to debunk your brother’s claim, you smile with fondness towards Seungkwan as you recover from laughing over your brothers’ antics, “I’m not drooling over Felix, Seungkwan!”

“My, _____, it doesn’t look like that,” he comically tilts his head, hums, and raises his left eyebrow, enough to make you chuckle further over your brothers. 

Jeonghan waves his hand to the younger brother, “We barely see our youngest eyeing someone, let them be!”

That’s how it goes among the three of you. You never bothered to propose any changes as all of you peacefully and mirthfully grew up together as siblings. Energies might be different for every member of the family, but they all blend very well at home.

“You know what? We’ll visit our mother later tomorrow anyway, why won’t you buy a lovely bouquet of flowers from any of the shops there?” you hear the eldest offer as you bite into the delicious pastry you ordered earlier.

Seungkwan, knowing the intentions behind Jeonghan’s suggestion, hits Jeonghan’s shoulder with his fist and cries, “Ah, I know why you’re asking _____ to do that!”

Jeonghan exclaims and defends you, “I’m doing _____ a favor! They’re old enough to make decisions for themselves. Seriously, Kwannie, let them do what their heart desires!”

You are still aware that they’re in the stage of bickering, so you don’t take into heart Seungkwan’s hostility towards the idea of you getting interested in someone. However, you have to thank Jeonghan for not invalidating the mere possibility of you liking Felix. He didn’t seem to care that you’re doing what many young adults do.

There is just this feeling erupting within your chest every time you see the blond boy.

However now, he is nowhere to be seen in the shops across your seat. He presumably left the area and fled to somewhere else.

Maybe it is not time for you to cross paths, as opposed to Jeonghan’s idea, but there is no harm in walking through the same steps as where Felix just walked moments ago.

Walking out of your seat, you amuse your brothers by telling them you’re going to follow what Jeonghan said. Consequently, you take a few steps back to snatch the purse on the table owned by your brothers and go on with buying a bouquet.

The walk to the shops was very quick, as the cafe was right across the first few stalls under the tents. You thought of splurging with the cash in the purse—more like including buying things you are sure you and your brothers would enjoy.

You know that your brothers would be absolutely endeared with anything matching, hence why you bought three beaded keychains that are shaped like flowers. What makes them more special is that the beads are gradient, making them look prettier than they already are. You decided to match them too with the hibiscus bouquet you eyed on your way to the keychains stall. Both had a combination of violet, pink, and orange, which materialized the sunset your mother always loved.

Your train of thought about your mother took over your mind while window shopping for more items you could purchase. Technically, you’re unable to buy anymore at this point as your hands are immediately full. The large purse your brothers own already takes up one hand, the bouquet for the other hand, and the small bag for the keychains is already hanging in one of your forearms. If you ever buy something else, you just hope that they have bags prepared.

Conscious of what you smell, and your heart calling for the sweet-smelling of banana loaves and brownies, you rush towards the bakery stall and plan to bring home something that you and your brothers can munch on at the end of the day.

Once your sense of smell feels the strongest of the bread and pastries and your eyes are completely fixated on them, you immediately ask for the price.

“Your order’s on us! This is our first time including these in our shop, so feel free to take some home and let us know if it’s great to bake more of these,” the lovely granny tells you.

Your head turns up and you unintentionally create eye contact with one person you never expected to meet.

“Our terrific Felix here decided to help us and include more to the shop,” the granny pats the boy’s back, “he volunteered to bake some samples to be distributed today first before officially including them in the menu.”

Your heartstrings tug at the thought of the boy you’ve been eyeing from afar actually playing a large part in this specific stall, especially during the peak days of struggle in the city. You have known him to be a part of the Leyvas, but you have seen enough to know that he has a soft spot and takes part in many activities in the city. 

Never did you expect that he would directly help a family, all you’ve seen from sighting far away was him supporting many of the stalls by purchasing and befriending many of the vendors.

Staying away from the other side all this time, maybe you haven’t seen everything yet. And seeing more of it just makes your heart yearn for this young boy. 

As the sweet old lady steps away to deal with another customer, the blond smiles at you and says, “I hope you’ll enjoy these! Granny Lou has been special to me, especially to the Leyvas, so I hope the inclusion of new bakes soon can help them somehow, especially they’ve been in need of money for a while now.”

You gasp and eagerly nod. You point at the pastries on the table in between both of you to signal to him that you’ll be taking home (potentially) delicious baked goods. Just based on the aroma, you have no doubts so far that you’d loathe them.

Felix softly asks which you’ll be bringing home, and you answer what you truly want—the banana loaf and brownies—with a smile on your face.

He quickly goes his way to grab a paper bag and prepare your order.

Much to your surprise, he works very enthusiastically. He appears to be enjoying this sideline, just by noticing how he communicates and moves around the stall.

“Here is your order! A loaf and three slices of brownies,” he reaches out a warm brown paper bag, “and three large cookies! I have a feeling that you might enjoy these cookies too!”

Eyes widening, you quickly wave your hand in disapproval and attempt to return the bag, “I believe I would, but this is too much already! Let me pay to help Granny Lou for today, at least!”

Felix shakes his head and gently pushes your hands away, “As granny said, it’s on us. If you want to pay so badly, just come back next week and let us know if you liked the food!”

You sigh. Clearly, you have no choice now, so you reluctantly nod and tell him, “Alright, I’ll let you guys know next week. I’ll also let you know what my brothers think of them.”

You’re not sure why you’re daring yourself to face him once again next week, but you’ll just pray that you’ll be as sane as today when you meet him again.

The blond boy clad in linen squeals and clasps his hands together, “That’s great, more feedback! We’d appreciate that so much!”

“Will you still be here next week?” you ask, finding your way to include another bag in your hands. Barely able to hold everything on your hands, you hear Felix answer yes and ask if you need a larger bag for the things you have to hold.

“Nope, I’m all good. My brothers are nearby, I can give some of them once I return to them,” you look up to meet Felix’s worried face, “really though, no worries, I’m alright. I just didn’t expect to purchase a lot today.”

Worry still apparent in Felix, he asks you once again, “You sure?”

“Yes, _____, will be fine. We’re here!” Felix jumps at the voice coming from nearby, he instantly assumes that your brothers have come.

“Kwannie, you’re so loud!” you hush to Seungkwan, moving your hands up and down to let him know that he should tone down his voice. Jeonghan silently grabs half of the things you’re holding and elbows Seungkwan to grab what remains in your hands.

In the middle of Jeonghan waiting and Seungkwan sulkily playing with you to get the things out of your hands—his voice booming with “Oh, come on, let me hold something for you!”—which made Jeonghan pinch Seungkwan on the waist, Jeonghan quickly greets Felix, which he returns with the same amount of enthusiasm he had with everyone else, and tells you both to go and finally return home.

Just a few steps away from the stall, you ultimately greet Felix with a sweet goodbye. Felix then gleefully waves his hand and tells you, “See you next week!”

“Seems like someone will be meeting someone next week!” Jeonghan smiles and wraps his arm around your shoulder. The eldest appears to be more ecstatic than ever.

“Out of all the people you could meet though, you met a Leyva, _____,” Seungkwan mumbles. 

Jeonghan immediately speaks for you, surprisingly. “I’m pretty sure our youngest knows what they’re getting into. It’s okay to warn them, but don’t overwhelm them too much until the point that your constant warnings will sound discouraging.”

Seungkwan rubs your head with his cheek in worry, “I know, I know. Just be careful, especially since the Leyvas have something going on with the Solanos at the moment. Their tension has gone worse lately, I think it’s just a little scary to be associated with any of them at the moment.”

“I think I’ll be fine. It’s not that he’ll fall in love with me very soon, I think just getting to know him would suffice for me right now,” you unconsciously smile at the thought of finally talking to him.

For someone who’s a desperate hopeless romantic, you are quite lucky to finally bring the prospective red string quicker than you thought. “Something is pulling me onto him, I don’t know what exactly, but I have a good feeling with it. I surprisingly didn’t freak out when he suddenly entered my vision,” you giggled.

Also rubbing your head with his cheeks, Jeonghan giggles and pinches your cheeks, “_____ is falling in love, at last!”

You’ve never been this insane about a guy, which kind of scares you. But as you said earlier, with your impressive performance of not freaking out in front of Felix, you have a great hunch that things will be fine with him—you just know it. You instantly felt this sense of comfort with him on your first contact together, and you have a feeling that it would go on in the future.

“We better make you look good next week—”

“I’m just gonna visit him in the market again, Seungkwan!”

“I’m just looking at it as a date!”

“It is not, shut up!”

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