#THE BLOW IS NEVER SOFTENED

[fishermcn]

🤝

@hexenjagd // a chance bargain struck that ill-omened night; yet back to back they fight till the dying light // accepting.

i.) all manner of tall tales and legends arose from the survivors of the shattering, not in the least the story of a gaunt knight collecting the souls of the long dead and damned from ancient battlefields. that said knight happened to be very real and very much not a ghost was... unsettling. thankfully the runes she offers in exchange for aromatics and the occasional oddity-- a misshapen skull sifted from volcanic ashes, a funeral shroud scorched by a flame that froze, the truly strange shit --seems to have (inexplicably) settled any uneasiness on his behalf from dealing with helena.

ii.) as one of the fortunate few in possession of a spirit caller's bell (at the steep cost of both lifelong enemies and a few vicious scars) sam has a particularly vested interest in helena's ability to commune and interact with such spirits. many of their most valuable bargains were struck in exchange for the witch knight to act in the role of a spirit tuner... though of his two summons, helena has so far empowered only the spirit of an infamous perfumer. the other she's thus far refused to deal with in any capacity, much to sam's annoyance.

iii.) helena's mastery over the ghostflame unsettles sam in a way that nothing else she can conjure compares to, and of all the tools at his disposal the rancor pot remains his least used. perhaps the sheer wrongness of the unnatural flame wears at his resolve, or perhaps the way it inflicts wounds upon not only the living but the dead as well instills him with fear. regardless, sam's nerves are set on edge whenever she wields the terrible fire.

#hexenjagd #mutterings meant for worrisome waters ( ooc. ) #// sam's never seen so much weird shit in the lands between so consistently until working with helena #// the runes thankfully soften the blow of amy terrors he might've seen whilst fetching the damn things

[chaosinterlude]

not a single obey me character manages to make me feel as conflicted as asmodeus does. it's incredible really how he manages to make me both very interested and very frustrated at the same time. i think that mainly has to do with the fact that i see a lot of potential in asmo, but he never lives up to that. both because of his personality and the... questionable writing in the game.

in any case, i'm very skeptical about 'asmo learned to love someone outside of himself', because 1) that would mean asmo loves himself, which he doesn't, and 2) asmodeus... doesn't really learn or change.

let me explain; asmo constantly craves outside validation and deflects any criticism he gets, circling back to how great and beautiful he is. in my humble opinion (and experience), that's not someone who is comfortable with themselves or loves themselves as they are.

asmodeus continuously deflecting any criticism he gets, not taking it to heart and just writing it off as others being jealous, also means that he doesn't change. not drastically, at least. change for asmo would mean listening to the criticism others have of him, and he doesn't - even not when it's coming from mc, whom he supposedly loves.

i personally don't think you love someone if you don't even listen to them when they come to you with valid criticism. of course that goes both ways, but asmo doesn't really seem to listen to mc when they (or anyone) confronts him with his behavior, and he just aggrandizes them (as well as himself). to me that seems more like obsession rather than love, which makes sense, since asmodeus represents lust.

and this is where the frustration part for me comes in. i truly believe asmo is capable of change and loving someone else, if only he'd listen to others. but instead he keeps chasing the high of attention, craving that same adoration he had as the 'Jewel of the Heavens' in his days as an angel, which again, makes sense because of lust.

so yeah, there's the potential of change, but asmo doesn't take the chances that are presented to him. what asmodeus needs isn't an mc who will coddle him and/or praise him, no he needs someone who confronts him and lets him reflect on himself.

#this post was brought to you by late night discord calls with my friend #thank you for yelling about this with me at 12am #am i surprised that the game never really explores a true character arc for asmo? no #but i sure as hell am disappointed because as i said there's so much potential... #i suppose that means i'll just pick up my own pen and write it myself /hj #i speak from personal experience when i say that sometimes you need someone to tell it as it is #and not soften the blows for you or constantly praise you. sure compliments are needed and nice but #criticism makes you learn so you need a balance between the two #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me analysis #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo

[hyruviandoctor]

So far I've gotten a huge raise and got approved for my first solo apartment so yeah I guess 2024 might actually be my year

#this is insane?? #the raise is like double digits #and the apartment is relatively affordable and in the same complex I'm in with my brother right now #I know there's some bad news likely coming my way in the next 5 days because of something else going on in life but like #the blow is softened for sure preemptively #anyway never give up hope that things will get better #Tyler Talks

[coridallasmultipass]

Vent/transphobia in fandom

I regret looking in the trans //// Dirk tag bc wow... people sure do love to shit on other people's interpretation of canon.

Someone fucking said "people are making him trans to 'soften' him and make him more likeable" like holy shit???? Am I actually reading those words?? Someone being blatantly transphobic in the tD tag, where y'know, trans people wanna read posts about tD.

If you think making a character trans 'softens' him, that's literally the definition of transphobia, and that's something you need to work on. Trans men aren't Men Lite. We're not softer and more likeable than cis men. Shut the fuck up.

I feel so fucking sick after reading that. Fucking asshole piece of shit. I did not need to read that tonight, while I'm literally suffering from a 'trapped in the wrong body' flavour of gender dysphoria and S.I. and just TRYING TO FIND PEOPLE BEING NORMAL ABOUT TRANS ///// DIRK SINCE IT FEELS LIKE I'M THE ONLY PERSON WHO FUCKING CARES RIGHT NOW.

Whatever. I will blaze my own way down the tD path. I'm doing it for ME. Not for anyone else. Fucking rancid-ass take, get the fuck out. No one wants to see your whiny transphobic arguments against tD, IN THE TAG FOR TRANS //// DIRK. Keep your transphobia to yourself, or I am busting out the duct tape. (Duct tape=block button. Yes, I blocked them. Don't need that negativity in my blogging experience.)

((Do not talk to me about anything that happens after Homestuck proper. I do not perceive those things. I do not want to know about those things. They do not exist to me.))

PS. Oh, I absolutely love finding any canon evidence to make toxic male characters into trans men (Handso//me Ja/ck, Joh//nny Sil//verhand, Br/o Str/ider, etc... actually now that I line them up like that, Bro is totally tame and normal lmao, HJ is wayyy worse of a person and there's tons of canon evidence I can argue with...)

Anyway, transing the bad guys... It's my favourite passtime. I could not give a fuck what you think about that. I like my men toxic and trans. I don't give a fuck about having "good" representation, because a trans man is still a trans man when he's a toxic asshole. That's the point. Trans men are the same amount of man as cis men. So you can SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT NEEDING A 'SOFT' BOY FOR TRANS MEN'S REPRESENTATION. DO IT YOUR-FUCKING-SELF AND LEAVE THE TRANS //// DIRK TAG TO THOSE OF US WHO KNOW THE TRUTH.

#let me preface this by saying im internally bleeding from all my organs and in a really shitty pms/pmdd mood and cramping #transphobia #vent #im so fucking sick of trans men getting pushed aside bc were not man enough to have a voice in fandom/media #i seriously cannot believe someone said that were making dirk trans to soften him #makes me fucking sick to my stomach #i dont need more reminders that ill never be man enough for people who arent trans men #jfc i spend like 2 weeks back on tumblr and its already making me sick i didnt think iw as gonna find transphobia here in 2024 #remember the time someone told me i was transmisogynistic for saying mettat//on was a trans man? lmao #good times (not) #why cant people be normal about trans men for fuckkng once #rant #angry trans man grumbling #this probably needs tags but idk what they should be bc i dont want this to end up in the associated tags #if ppl havent seen what i just saw i dont want to remind them that transphobia abounds #Cori.exe #Post.exe #i literally feel like my organs are being scraped with a cheese grater #i wish i had a different body im so sick of end/ometriosis #my body is actively being transphobic against me and i am dealt this additional blow by fandom jackasses calling trans men soft #s m fucking h

[obstinatecondolement]

In happier news, Art as a name in and of itself, as opposed to being short for Arthur, is apparently a thing! And better yet:

Art meant the ‘bear’ in Celtic languages. The name derives from Proto-Celtic *artos (“bear”) (compare Cornish arth, Welsh arth, Breton arzh), from Proto-Indo-European *h₂ŕ̥tḱos (“bear”). With bears the local apex predator, Art figuratively referred to a ‘champion’ and two Legendary High Kings of Ireland had the name, Art mac Cuinn and Art mac Lugdach.

#it turns out I was a bear the whole time #🐻🧔🏳️‍🌈 #this is obviously excellent for celtic bear reasons #but also because it liberates me from feeling obligated to legally change my name to arthur when I get around to doing that #my mother Hates™ when people's legal name is a diminutive e.g. Sam and not Samuel #so I have always felt that I needed to soften the blow of being trans by respecting this pet peeve of hers in how I changed my name #obviously I was never actually obliged and I doubt it would make much difference to her either way next to... everything else #but my stupid ocd brain convinced me this was something I really was obliged to do #and now I am free from that imaginary obligation

[sh5]

deleted the poll and the vent post bc like. i don’t want to be shit talking her. but . girl. 😭

#I understand why the poll went one way but I do think I made the best decision in that situation #I never communicated w her well. That’s how we got into this situation in the first place. It came both out of avoiding confrontation until #the last possible moment AND trying to soften the blow as much as possible. And I can’t help that it wasn’t taken well. Hopefully I’m not i #a situation in which I avoid conflict like this w a partner again. I’m better abt it w friends #lee speaks #dl

[veshialles]

okay deadass am I the only one who felt like having the Doctor regenerate back into David Tennant was a massively cheap cop-out or?? I see so many people celebrating and I simply do not get it

it just feels like yet another undercut to everything that's been bothering me about the show lately and the way it's all been handled. Like, here we finally get the first ever woman to play The Doctor and made a big to do about it, and then "whoops! Bi-annual season releases are back again! Whoops, the Saturday time slot has been moved to Sundays for the first time ever! Whoops, we handed it off to someone who doesn't write sci-fi and and can't weave thoughtful commentary into a story's narrative if it hit him in the face! Whoops we tried to make it "hip and woke" but only ended up coming across even more deeply problematic and racist and sexist than ever before!

"ANyway here's the same white guy who last starred in the show 12 years ago! I know we just promised you we were getting someone new to play the Doctor but sike!"

Like I want to reserve my judgements until the specials finally air, but it really feels like now Doctor Who is just another series that's jumped on the Nostalgia Over Storytelling bandwagon and I cannot help but roll my eyes over it sorry

#ruby rambles #having the good sense to turn reblogs off because i know y'all are insane and cannot be trusted lmao #like it just feels like from the get go people had like zero faith in Jodie simply because she is a woman #and so IMMEDIATELY switching back to David Tennant just feels like a really cheap way to ''soften the blow'' between Jodie and Ncuti #NOT TO EVEN MENTION the whole ''time lord victorious'' project they had been promoting leading up to this #(which again boiled down to ''look it's David Tennant again! Jodie who? never heard of her lol'')

[orcelito]

I hate having to make decisions about peoples' lives 😭 me straight up having the power in my hands to affect who has a job with us, like. Fuck, man. I don't like it

#speculation nation #IM just a neurotic chihuahua who gave me the right to decide peoples' fates like this lmao #well i did. by being here so long. & my boss did by entrusting this to me. #but stiiiiill i hate it lol. i keep flipping back and forth #i think i do wanna do dbz dude bc barista lady does have a job already & is leaving in half a year #& i hope dbz dude can mesh well into our store's culture #he has more brand loyalty than this lady to start with. says he loves our tea. while shes never even had bubble tea before. #which ya kno isnt a huge deal but in the matter of retention we'll be more likely to keep someone who cares about here specifically #(see: me. who in very large part is still here only for the unlimited free bubble tea lmfao) #omfg the girl who came in yesterday for her paperwork seemed SO fucking happy when i offered her a drink #like YEA GIRL. WE GET FREE DRINKS!!!! lmao one of the Best parts about working here. #ughhhh i gotta send out the offer. dbz dude i hope you dont disappoint #not sending any rejects until i have a confirmation from these 2 but once they're in. then i will let the others know #i know it's typical for stores to just say theyre rejected or not say anything at all. but i wonder if i could tell them why #customize the rejection messages to maybe soften the blow??? idk going by a template just feels so impersonal #like i met and talked to all of these people. theyre Real People. & id like to respect that. #i feel so sad for the sweet girl 😭 im gonna try to be nice about it with her...

[beeslut69]

Sometimes I'm having a good day and then I remember that there is no longer a cute, squishy baby boy that I love with my whole heart waiting for me at home

#vent #I grew up with animals my whole life #I've literally never had an empty house before #Like obviously its always absolutely awful to lose a pet #But this one feels the worst because we also lost my childhood dog less then a year ago #And the afformentioned first time not having a still alive pet to soften the blow

[qt-kt]

LMAO my boss was irritated af today and my brain is trying to convince me that I'm going to be fired which is just! So fun! For me!

#this is the same job i was laid off from back in 2020 so my brain is telling me its a justifiable fear #and one of my coworkers texted me thanking me for all her help today and immediately my brain is like #well obviously she knows youre going to lose your job so shes being nice and trying to soften the blow #im pretty sure im jumping to conclusions pretty quick bc im the person my boss turns to for like. most things #and she liked me enough to bring me back to work full time #and she just set me up w insurance literally last month #but that makes it worse bc what if i get fired and immediately lose the insurance i never even got to use #im trying so hard not to have a panic attack rn

[yueebby]

happy wife, happy life  — gojo satoru

synopsis. not fawning over his wife may prove to be harder than gojo thought.

contents. fluff, gojo is so whipped for his wife and everyone is tired (whats new), ooc gojo?

notes. this was pure self indulgence. i wanted to slander and coddle gojo all at once and this was it teehee :3

the first thing you hear when you stand up to leave the staff meeting is a wolf whistle.

“looking good,” satoru looks you up and down. you roll your eyes playfully, your husband’s behavior is not foreign to you. he taps your upper thigh, dangerously close to your butt as you take your leave. however, the others in the room don't take kindly to the action.

“highly inappropriate behavior gojo,” utahime mutters under her breath from across the table. beside her, nanami is giving your husband a hard stare. 

satoru pays no mind to them though, smiling up at you as you walk out of the room. you shake your head when he continuously blows a series of kisses. he ignores your rejection, opting to mouth crude comments instead.

the moment the door shuts, the strongest sorcerer immediately deflates, disinterested in whatever matters the rest had to discuss about. 

“i don’t know how she puts up with you,” utahime takes a long sip out of her cup of tea. beside her, shoko snorts.

“probably for his body.” shoko is not unfamiliar with satoru’s antics, having witnessed it since his rowdy school days. she applauds him for coming far with you, but it was still fun to tease him.

gojo crosses his arms, emitting a disgruntled sound. “and my golden personality?”

nanami sighs, “ieiri’s conclusion is most likely right.”

the limitless user wiggles his finger playfully. “nanamin, how scandalous of you to fantasize about my body! i’m a married man y’know~” 

nanami looks like he has eaten something sour. unlike you, nanami’s attitude towards gojo has not softened as the years passed.

“i’m surprised she’s still with you.” utahime snickers. “she’s a sensible woman and you’re–” 

satoru frowns at her statement.  he’d never thought about how you felt about his behavior. perhaps that was his fatal flaw. gojo satoru had a nasty streak of negligence. and the last time he failed to notice someone dear to him —   

“well i’m glad she ended up choosing me, yeah?” his frown is quickly covered up by the wide smirk on his face. he leans back on his chair that’s starting to feel less comfortable by the second. the chair creaks under the weight of his body. honestly, how old are these old wooden things? “as much as i’d like to keep chatting about my lovely wife, i’d like to get this meeting over with so i can see her again.”

the rest of the meeting ensues as usual.

“sensei has been weird… right?” itadori offers his hand after knocking megumi down during a sparring match. the black haired boy grunts as he is pulled up.

“if by weird, you mean normal.” megumi glances back at you and gojo who are watching intently at the first and second years practicing close combat on the training field. it was a bit peculiar to see satoru not throw himself all over you. gojo without pda is like a jigsaw puzzle missing its most essential piece, leaving the overall picture incomplete and lacking the electrifying energy that defines his existence. 

“i feel like i should be happy, but it’s unsettling to see him not initiating some misconduct. do you think they’re fighting?” nobara is panting on the grassy floor. she raises her hand in surrender when maki leaps in to take her head off with a spear.

maki retracts her blade, turning back to observe you and gojo, “nah, gojo would fold at her command.” 

“salmon.”

from across the training field, you turn to your husband nervously, “why are they staring at us?”

satoru hums, his blindfolded gaze focuses on the field in front of you, “hm, maybe they’re admiring their very beautiful [name] sensei.” the blindfolded man pauses. compliments should still be okay– right? satoru can’t imagine a life without lavishing you with love, yet he will content himself with gently sprinkling you with affection. 

you smack his shoulder playfully. to your surprise, your husband doesn’t reciprocate with some form of physical affection. you tilt your head, perplexed. 

quickly dismissing it, you yell at your students to continue their training.

you don’t notice the way satoru clenches his fists, keeping his eyes trained anywhere but you.

the next time satoru is tempted by your presence is when he comes back home after a mission. it was a walk in the park, but the heavy stack of paperwork that followed it had depleted his energy. all he wanted was to snuggle in bed with his wife, selfishly keeping you all to himself.

and you’re not making it easier to resist with the way you warmly greet him with a smile in nothing but a small cotton tee and those tiny pajama shorts. eyes up, eyes up, eyes up, satoru mentally chants.

he thinks he might actually die.

“toru!” you abandon the book you had been reading to pay your husband taxes (kisses that satoru demands he must have). “you’re home awfully late.”

“mission… paperwork,” his clipped response is mumbled as he hurries past you and to your shared bathroom, avoiding your touch. satoru silently prays to the heavens that you don’t notice his suspicious efforts as he makes his way to take a much needed ice cold shower.

you stand in your spot in confusion, letting your husband go. slowly, you start to connect the pieces of satoru’s strange behavior from his refusal to touch you to his sudden responsible disposition. gojo satoru never does paperwork– not unless you bribe him with a dozen kisses. speaking of kisses, you don’t even remember the last time he had demanded one. something was definitely wrong. 

without missing a beat, you quickly follow your lover’s trail into the bathroom.

to your delight, your husband had failed to lock the door. in the hush of your silence, you can hear the subtle rustle of satoru's garments.

his sky blue eyes go wide when he sees you walk through the door.

“toru… is there something wrong?” your voice is careful. 

the white haired man in front of you nervously laughs as he covers his bare chest, “geez, ask me out to dinner first.” 

“gojo satoru.”

your husband winces at his full name being used, but he puts on another mask. a faux smile plays on his lips as he shrugs. “i don’t know what you mean, gojo.” 

your heart drops at his insistence to shut you out, but you stand your ground. with sheer determination, you walk up to your husband, closing the gap between the two of you. you cup his cheek with a hand while you start to lean closer, your lips nearly brushing.

satoru shuts his eyes, inhaling a deep breath to regain composure. he even sucks in his lips, making him look utterly ridiculous. despite the dangerous allure of your proximity, he resolves to stand firm.

"you won’t even kiss me anymore! satoru, this is absurd. what's happening?" you distance yourself, seeking answers.

despite his towering stature, a snort escapes you as satoru resembles a mere child when mumbling something under his breath.

"come on, use your big boy words."

"i don't want to drive you away," he avoids making eye contact now that his blindfold is off. "i know i can be a bit overwhelming at times."

upon hearing his excuse, you snort loudly, “seriously?”

“seriously.”

“i can’t believe i married such an idiot.” you huff, wrapping your arms around his neck.

satoru pouts, “you’re breaking my heart wifey.”

your lips softly kiss the corner of his mouth. like it was muscle memory, satoru’s lips chase yours even after you pull away. you smile.

“for such a genius, you really are stupid ‘toru.” you flick his forehead. he whines and you know it didn’t hurt, yet you entertain him by leaning up to kiss his injury. “believe it or not, i married you for reasons beyond your pretty face and body.”

“you think i’m pretty?” his eyes shine bright as they lovingly gaze into yours. you take one hand to cup his cheek. he nuzzles his face into it.

“of course you’d say that.” you laugh softly. “but honestly, i’m offended that you thought i would ever be annoyed by your affections. might i remind you that we have been madly in love since our youth? i found myself captivated by your ability to love effortlessly, and the way you hopelessly pined for me for years? i knew i was a goner. that… and your bank accoun–”

satoru kisses you with an intensity that leaves you feeling blissfully lightheaded. lost in the haze of the moment, he showers the rest of your face with tender, wet kisses, and you stand there, surrendering to the sweet assault.

upon withdrawing, satoru wears a broad grin. "i was an idiot today, wasn't i?" you nod, breathless. "how about i make it up to you tonight?" he proposes, drawing you close. you are all too familiar with that feral grin adorning his face.

#kt.writes.·:*¨༺ #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo fluff #gojou x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk x reader

[homunculus-argument]

Idea for a Generic Medieval Fantasy Setting: The characters refer to their nameday as an apparent stand-in for birthdays, celebrating it annually according to their respective preferences and perhaps family customs, as one does. People talk about things that happened before someone's time as having gone down "before you were named", someone grievously insults an opponent on the battlefield by going "your mother should never have named you." So with the way naming is always talked about, as a reader you start to somewhat assume from context clues that these people have some sort of a taboo about the word "birth" or something, and naming is used as some sort of an euphenism to avoid naming the process in which people come into the world.

Then somewhere halfway through the story it turns out that in this setting, people aren't named immediately after being born. This is a semi-realistic-gritty fantasy setting, after all. Due to the somewhat high infant mortality, to at least somewhat soften the blow of potentially losing a child, babies just aren't named before the parents are pretty confident that the kid is going to survive. The naming ceremony is where a baby is officially aknowledged as an entire individual, a member of the family and a legally existing person, instead of just a gurgling extension of the mother who may or may not disappear from this world. And that timespan between birth and being named is - depending on the situation and the family - somewhere between 1-4 years.

And suddenly the whole bunch of annoyingly-too-mature teenagers and other weird remarks about age start making sense in hindsight. The heroine protagonist who celebrated her 16th nameday at the start of the story is actually 19 years old. The wild difference in maturity between two characters who were both named the same year wasn't just a difference in backgrounds, The Rich Idiot isn't just rosy-cheeked and naive due to being sheltered growing up, but actually literally years younger than a peasant "of the same age". A character who's sickly and was frequently remarked to look much older than their years hasn't just been harrowed by their illness, but was not named before the age of seven because their parents didn't think they'd survive.

[abyssruler]

furina’s guide on the art of matchmaking

neuvillette x gn!reader

it’s no secret that furina is constantly bored of the mundanity that comes with court, but with the recent discovery of neuvillette’s crush on you, things have just gotten a lot more interesting. if only you and neuvillette would just get together, but alas, it comes down to the great hydro archon to bring justice to neuvillette’s sad, pathetic love life.

furina pov, comedy, furina being dramatic as hell

Furina knows the best way to get under Neuvillette’s skin is through you. The Iudex may seem impassive from the outside, but she knows where to look for his tells, particularly when he’s annoyed (she has, after all, been the recipient to silently judging stares, usually those of a disappointed or even irritated nature).

And she’s seen the way Neuvillette looks at you—his face softening, an almost imperceptible smile on his lips, and most damningly of all, the slightest hint of a blush whenever you stare into his eyes a little too long to be considered proper.

It’s all so entertaining to watch, if a bit miffing to endure seeing how utterly slow the two of you are. If Furina had been in Neuvillette’s shoes, she would have long since enacted a performance grander than anything Fontaine has ever seen and asked you out on a date. Not just any date though, no, she would have to pull an all-nighter to come up with the best date there is. One does not simply go on a date with the God of Justice and have it be mediocre.

But all that aside, with how boring Neuvillette is with his stricter than strict rules and views on how one must go about their day, it falls upon her to make sure he doesn’t die as a decrepit old bachelor who’s never felt the touch of another person intimately. (Not that Furina had any say on the topic of intimacy, seeing as she’s never had any experience in the romantic aspects of life, but experience means nothing compared to the wisdom of the God of Justice!)

So, after many nights spent huddled beneath her blankets, scribbling on her notebook and brainstorming the best way to get a rise out of Neuvillette, she happened upon a breakthrough. An idea so great it would not only be something worthy of the Steambird’s headlines, but also be something the people of Fonatine would speak of for years to come.

Yes, it all comes down to this very moment, standing over the highest place in the opera with hundreds of eyes watching her as she points an accusing finger at your figure standing on the very stage she’s set up.

Neuvillette watches it all with his eyes narrowed at her, hands clasped tightly around his cane, and Furina would have loved to relish in that reaction, but alas, she must continue with her script.

With a haughty smile, she meets your eyes as she yells out loud to her captivated audience.

“I charge you, (Y/N), with the crime of theft!”

The people below gasp in shock at the sudden accusation. Only natural, of course. You, an esteemed person of reputable background who most people view as a kind person, being charged with theft? How scandalous!

But that’s not all!

“You stand accused of thievery,” Furina pauses for a dramatic effect, feeling the spectators hold their breaths as they await her final verdict.

She then looks up at Neuvillette, and it takes all she has in her not to burst in hysterics at the comically pinched face he’s sporting. She moves her finger from you to Neuvillette, practically preening in place as the assembled crowd below let out varying expressions of shock.

And with a smug smile, she deals the final blow.

“For stealing the Chief Justice of Fontaine’s heart!”

One, two, three—

Screams erupt from below. Women squealing in delight while the men cheer at the sudden twist from accusation to romance.

Furina basks in the attention as the people sing praises of her.

“Of course, how could not I have seen it before?”

“Lady Furina is so sharp to have caught on!”

“Monsieur Neuvillette and (Y/N) do make a good pair, don’t they?”

“How ingenious! As expected of our Lady Furina!”

But then, Neuvillette stands, a stern look on his face as he taps his cane on the ground hard enough to rattle her eardrums.

“Order!”

His face could have been made from stone with how hard he’s looking at her. If looks could kill, she’d be dead on the spot. Yikes! Perhaps it’s time to make a swift escape…

“Lady Furina, might I remind you that charges and accusations are not to be made lightly within the court. To abuse your position in order to make a ridiculous statement. I…”

With every word that leaves his mouth, Furina slowly begins to feel that perhaps she’d been too hasty in thinking that all would turn out well. And oh, maybe she should have thought up of scenarios and what-to-dos after she finished performing her grand plan, but in her defense, she’d been too excited at the prospect of finally pushing you two together that it completely slipped her mind!

Is it too late to claim it was all an elaborate performance not meant to be taken seriously?

Neuvillette stares thunderously up at her.

She’ll take that as a no, then.

Just when all hope seemed to have been lost, a savior comes in the form of you raising your hand.

Neuvillette immediately stops speaking in favor of addressing you.

“Would the accused like to defend their innocence?”

You take a deep breath, gaze briefly flitting to Furina’s before meeting Neuvillette’s. And even without much prompt, from that single glance alone, she knew she was about to witness something extremely entertaining.

“I… I would like to press charges as well,” you say evenly, and for a second, Furina’s heart drops as she thinks you’re about to charge her for false accusations and perhaps even slander, (the first time in history that anyone has charged the God of Justice for a crime!) but then, you continue—

“I would like to press charges against you, Monsieur Neuvillette, for stealing my heart too.”

Your statement is followed by a stunned silence that only lasts for a brief moment, before it’s overcome by exclamations and whoops at the sudden turn of events.

Furina falls back on her seat and howls with laughter as she watches Neuvillette be struck speechless, red creeping up his cheeks as your statement echoes across the cavernous hall. She reminds herself to gift you something extravagant for saving her at the very last moment.

Ah, what a delightful way to end the show.

She watches you direct a besotted smile towards Neuvillette. Another day, another poor sod saved from the horrors of a nonexistent love life.

Furina mentally pats herself on the back for a job well done.

#furina: another day another slay #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #neuvillette x reader #genshin neuvillette x reader #gn reader #furina #focalors

[backwzzds]

ೃ⁀➷ love me, connie springer (nsfw)

thinking about babydaddy!connie fucking you nice and slow after finding out you got stood up by your date. having little constentina (his idea, but tina for short) for the weekend, your precious angel just couldn’t keep her mouth shut to her daddy when you’d told her you were going on a small ‘dinner’

“she said dinner but that really means date, daddy.”

connie isn’t surprised. no one knew how to handle you beside him. i mean, he’s had your ass in place successfully for nearly ten years; only he was man enough to handle you, your mind, and most of all your body.

you loved connie like no other, you wanted no one else to be the father of your children. but you knew the streets would eventually take him away from you, and you just didn’t wanna stick around for that. not when you had a five year old girl depending on the both of you. connie looked for other ways to make bread without selling or doing anything…illegal but it was hard to match the stacks he was bringing home every weekend.

your separation was a one sided agreement anyways it seems. to you? you two were broken up. to connie delulu ass? you were his wife and you’re ‘smoking dick if you think ion belong to you and you’on belong to me.’

you didn’t even have any words for the absence of your so called ‘date.’. after an hour of waiting, you figured you’d call in to check on tina. ringing connie, your babyfather answered on the first ring, of course with a wood in his mouth and multiple lights on his face, signaling he was watching tv.

“hey,” your voice is solemn and low. you really were tired and ashamed to say anything more.

“hey mama, you okay?” connie’s hazel brown eyes quickly flick over to yours through the screen.

you shrug though he can’t see it. “i’m okay.” you admit. “just callin’ to check on my baby.” the frame was only on your face, but from the small shake of your hand, connie had managed to get a glimpse of a pretty black dress you’d sported, breasts looking three times as big as it usually did because of your sitting position. he could tell you dressed up for the night.

“yeah? she good, just upstairs sleepin’ right now. how was your date, pretty?” you hear connie turn down the tv in the background and give you his full intention.

you furrow your brows. “what? boy, how’d you know about it?”

your baby father blows out a huff of smoke and chuckles, flashing his gold canines. he wasn’t gon snitch on his lil informant princess. “i got my ways. tell me bout it baby.”

with a roll of your eyes, you let out a tired sigh and felt your shoulders sag. “wouldn’t know. the nigga never showed.”

connie furrows his own thick eyebrows. “what you mean? he told you he couldn’t come?” he asked. from the shake of your head, you see his face soften on the screen. “come over n’ smoke with me. lemme make you feel better.”

you kiss your teeth and throw your head back, already knowing where the conversation was headed. embarrassment flooded your expression. “you eating my pussy is not gonna make me feel better, constance.”

connie kissed his teeth and waved you off dismissively. “you’on know that.”

a blush can’t help but creep its way onto your brown cheeks. “i’m supposed to be staying away from you, ya know.”

connie gives you a knowing grin, shamelessly flexing the two deep dimples in his cheeks that constentina inherrited from him. “yeah? how’s that going for you, mama?”

“obviously not good because i’m actually considering your offer of being a booty call tonight?” you laugh.

“come onnn mama, tina’s sleep, i got a wood rolled for you and i want you here.” your ex compromised with a kiss of his teeth. “lemme rub ya feet and all on ya butt i promise you’ll feel better.

“i’m tired and don’t feel like driving, con,” you whine in the same tone. you knew if he didn’t have your daughter he’d already be at your door, but you refused to risk waking her up in a car ride over here.

connie rolls his eyes and puts you on pause for the moment. a minute later he comes back on screen and takes a pull of his backwood. “your uber on the way baby.”

“ooh daddy,” you cried, trying your hardest to breathe straight. “you know i cum fast like this, oh shit,” connie had your legs spread wide open, forcing your huge tits up against the bottom of your face as he pumped in and out of you.

“you like that mama, like when i fuck you nice and slow? all romantic n’ shit?” connie teased. tears streamed down your face and he wasted no time in kissing them from your pretty face.

you’re too far in euphoria to even fully comprehend exactly what he’s saying. “yes, i love when you stroke this pussy so deep daddy.”

connie holds your breasts up damn near to your face and takes his time sucking on each of your nipples, making sure to stretch and pull it all the way back as far as it could go, grinning at the sound of it snapping back toward you. “you’on need no one else to love you like this but me, you heard?”

you can’t help but shake your head, the small responsible part of you left that hadn’t been fucked out by connie yet (though he was close) was slowly bringing you to reality. “no,” you respond.

“nah, nah, dead that shit or imma stop,” your ex threatened, straightening his back out so he stood tall, yet still very deep inside your gummy walls. you can’t help but stare down the tattoos that littered his body; many dedicated to you and your shared daughter. “you grippin’ me so tight baby, boutta make me cum, fuck,” connie throws his head back and whines. “tell me you’re mine n’ we gonna get back together.”

“no, con,” your words were saying one thing, but the cream ring of your arousal forming around connie’s tanned dick was betraying everything leaving your mouth. “w-we’re we’re toxic—oooh, yes, right there right there!”

suddenly, a large pair of hands come to wrap around your neck, gripping lightly. “tell me you’re mine or im not fuckin’ this pussy,” he orders. “you know i don’t be bluffing, mama. ‘specially when it come to your spoiled ass déjame oírte decirlo.”

more tears fall from your eyes as you feel your lower region bubble in evstasy. “con—“

“say it if you wanna cum.” connie’s grip around your neck tightens as he inevitably starts to babble. he was not gonna let up off you no matter what. “come on mama, say it n lemme give you another baby. gonna make you a mama all over again, want you so full of my babies, pretty—fuck,” he breathed out. “you know daddy sorry, you gonna forgive him?”

it wasn’t until connie started to add his thumb rubbing circles around your clit did you finally fold and give in. “oh fuck, yes! yes yes i forgive you con—please—“

“go head and cum mami, te quiero.” connie breathed out, feeling his own orgasm approach. “te amo joder joder por favor dame más hijos mami te estoy rogando déjame correrte dentro de ti,” the man curses into the atmosphere as he strokes himself in you a few more times.

“yes yes,” you nod in response to his pleads of cumming in you. a nanosecond later, connie’s cumming deep into you until he ends up shooting nothing but blanks. you’re full to the brim to the point where drops of his cum couldn’t help but ooze out between your puffy cunt.

“dio mio.”

#lora’s fics! ೄྀ࿐ #connie springer x black reader #connie springer x chubby reader #connie springer smut #plug connie x black reader #connie x black reader #connie springer x reader #connie springer #connie springer x black reader smut #connie smut #aot x black reader #aot x chubby reader #aot smut #aot connie #connie aot

[buckyalpine]

Feral, dirty thots under the cut, go away. Size kink, Beefy Bucky, all that.

Imagine riding a chubby beefy Bucky and you're a whining, whimpering mess because you're grinding yourself on his thick length, holding onto his meaty thighs to rock your hips back and forth. You can't even form a coherent sentence because your clit rubs right against his tummy, that happy trail of hair just adding to the stimulation. Your eyes roll back and your jaw is slack, his hands greedily pawing at your nipples and grabbing your hips to keep going.

His balls are achingly heavy and he nearly sobs when you reach behind to tug and pull at them, rolling them in your hand.

"S'good" You slur out, "S'so good Jamie" You look so gone and Bucky can't hold still, his hips squirming from underneath to chase more of your tight cunt squeezing his cock. You haven't been together for long and he wants to learn what you like so he can please you till you can't even say his name.

"You-you want me to rub your clit?" He whispers shyly because he's more than happy to do whatever it takes to make you feel good. You bite your lip and shake your head, unable to get the words out, you don't need him to do a damn thing, not when it's so perfect already.

"You already are" You moan out, feeling your orgasm build higher and higher, placing your hands on his tummy, drawing his attention to the way you hump and rut against him each time you take his cock all the way in. He looks like a confused puppy for a moment, with wide eyes until you show him exactly what you're talking about.

"Oh fuck" He whines, looking at the debauched mess you're making on him when you lean back, only giving him a quick glimpse of the slick you've smeared all over his belly. "Oh god yes, use me, rub yourself on me angel, that's it"

Seeing you get off, looking so small on top of him, using him for all your pleasure makes him nearly cum on the spot and he has to bite down on his lip to keep from blowing his load.

"Keep-fuck-keep going princess, look so pretty when you rub yourself on me like that, rub your little clit on me baby-shit-" He helps guide your body to move faster until he can feel you practically squirt all over him and he cannot hold on for another second, honestly how can you expect him to-

"FUCK BABY" He roars, immediately filling you with ropes of his spend as soon as he feels you clenching down around him. "Fuck, m'cummig so hard for you"

"So fuckin' good" you whimper, still rubbing your overstimulated clit on him and Bucky's dick doesn't even soften, still rock hard watching his pretty girl cockdrunk while humping his belly and he's never gonna be soft again at his rate-

k bye.

#size kink bucky #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky banres x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky x smut #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes #beefy bucky fluff #beefy bucky x reader #beefy bucky barnes #beefy bucky smut #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut #avengers smut #feral thoughts #smut #bucky barnes imagine #beefy bucky imagine

[yawnderu]

ANGEL — Simon Riley x Reader

cw: toxic situationship, emotionally unavailable Simon, age gap (reader is in her 20s, Simon is canonically in his late 30s).

wc: 2,027 | Part II

“Shh, shh.” Simon can feel his heartstrings being forcefully pulled, the image of you crying, tears spilling down your cheeks as you cling to him for dear life, your fingers gripping his black hoodie.

“S'okay. I can introduce you to some o' my mates.” The look of exasperation you shoot his way is enough to make him try to hold back his laughter, knowing it's not appropriate. Part of him feels bad, but the other part defends itself by telling him he warned you.

Simon Riley doesn't do love. He doesn't do feelings— he's a dog, too tainted and dirty for someone like you, too doomed. He doesn't deserve you, and yet he can't stop crawling back to you despite the heartbreak he sees in your pretty eyes the moment tells you he has to leave.

“I don't want 'em.” His attention is dragged back to you, the whiny tone making his gaze soften despite himself.

“Can you just... fuck me like you love me? I don't care if it's fake, I just...” Another choked sob escapes your lips, soft fingers tightening their hold on the fabric of his hoodie. Simon doesn't say anything— there's nothing he can say to make it better for you. The one condition to your situationship was broken, yet he couldn't find it in himself to abandon you, not when you look up at him like a lost, needy puppy.

“Y'can pretend it's love...” He offers, his tone lacking any mirth or empathy, not when his lips are busy going down your neck, trying his best not to leave any marks or be too rough with you, fighting his own nature for your sake.

His scarred, pink lips travel down your bare body with a gentleness meant to soften the blow of his emotional unavailability, trying his best to counter the heartbreak, secretly hoping that he can slowly mend your broken heart.

“I'll be nice to ya.” His hot breath hits your bare stomach, making your muscles tense up at the sensation, an unwilling shiver running up your spine at the tenderness of his words and actions, something he never showed you when he used to fuck you.

“Treat you like the proper angel y'are.” Simon's guilt is pushed to the back of his mind the moment his lips plant against your clothed mound, his calloused hand going up to your stomach to gently push you down the moment your back arches, wanting to keep you nice and still for him. To take care of your needs, for once.

Simon is a patient man. A patient man, who runs his warm, wet tongue over your clothed cunt, paying especial attention to your hardened clit, only making the knot in your stomach tighten by the second, fingers lacing on his short blond hair, pulling him closer. The display of pure neediness makes Simon's lips tilt up into a small, soft smile despite himself.

His hands explore your soft legs, squeezing softly every once in a while just to reassure you that he's still there. That he's not going away for once. He can feel your muscles twitch beneath his palm, almost mirroring his neglected, throbbing cock.

Simon's warm hands sneak to the back of your thighs, subtly feeling up your ass with the pads of his fingers, slowly sinking into the fat and muscle before he's pulling your legs up, soft kisses planted on your pretty inner thighs, even going as far as to give them gentle love bites, knowing you don't care if he leaves marks— not when your slick is seeping through the fabric of your panties, ready as ever.

“Needy fuckin' girl.” His touch is as gentle as it could be for someone whose hands are used to responding with violence and aggression, sneaking up to the waistband of your panties, pulling down enough to reveal your glistening cunt, not minding how the black cloth was left neglected, hanging on your ankle.

Just like a man starved, Simon's wet tongue darts out of his mouth to give a long, sensual lick against your folds, savoring the taste of your slickness. His rough hands grip your hips to steady you, no longer minding the way your back arches from the pure pleasure he's giving you. He takes a second to admire the sight in front of him, his hot breath fanning against your cunt.

“Good girl.” His skilled, hungry tongue delves between your folds, lapping at your wetness with a need that matches your own. He explores every single inch of your pussy, his tongue flickering and swirling over your hard, swollen clit. His free hand reaches up to fondle one of your tits, his fingers digging into the fat as he devours you.

Simon's hips rock softly against the mattress, looking for any sort of possible relief for his hard, throbbing cock, neglecting it until he can't handle it, hesitantly letting go of your sweet cunt, crawling on top of you and caging you in with his strong, muscular arms. Your soft hand goes to his tattooed arm out of pure muscle memory, earning you a small smirk back.

“You want it, angel? This fat fuckin' cock inside you?” His hips jerk involuntarily, a low groan escaping his lips as he feels the familiar heat pooling in his abdomen, his hand going down to his zipper out of habit, lowering it just enough to pull out his cock— until he realizes that he promised to make love to you, not to fuck.

With slight hesitation in his movements, Simon gets up from the bed, brown eyes watching your reaction with such focus you'd think he's a predator ready to pounce on its prey... and in a way, he is.

His chest rises and falls heavily as he starts to discard his clothes until he's completely bare and vulnerable, something he's never done before for anyone. The way your gaze softens as your eyes examine his scars almost makes him want to put his clothes back on— to leave and to never come back. Simon doesn't deserve your empathy, not when he keeps making you cry, yet he swallows his discomfort back down, his body resting on top of yours, lifting himself up with his arms.

“Y'always take me so well, don't you?” Simon teases in a whisper, his breath hot against your ear. The sound of your wetness mingling with his leaking tip fills the room, dragging a small whine out of you as he teases your entrance for a few seconds, his eyes on yours the moment he sinks into you, giving you time to get used to his thickness before starting to push in deeper, a low groan leaving his lips the moment he hits your sensitive, spongy cervix.

Simon leans down, his lips pressing against yours as he starts to thrust into your needy, sopping cunt, every single inch of him stretching you out like you were made for him. A small shiver runs down his spine when your hand goes up and down his back, caressing the scars from the torture he suffered at the hands of Roba. He pushes the bitter sensation away, putting his entire focus on the feeling of your tongue wrapping around his, tiny strings of saliva staining the corners of your soft lips.

He pulls you closer, his grip possessive yet still so gentle and tender, his touch becoming more intimate. Simon buries his face on the crook of your neck, open-mouthed kisses planted all over your soft, warm skin.

“Y'like this, princess?” He rolls his hips against yours, pushing himself as deep as possible into your pussy.

“Bet my mates could fuck you better.” Simon silences your protests with a quick kiss, thrusting faster into you just so you become willing to hear him out.

“Could treat ya better, too.” His forehead leans against yours, staring deep into the pleading look you're giving him, silently begging him to stop talking about it— to love you, begging for something he can't give you even if he were to force himself.

“My captain's a good man. Y'like older men, don't ya?” His breath is hot against your cheek, his eyes finally screwing shot as your cunt tightens around him at the mention of Price, a low, deep groan making its way out of his throat.

“'Course you do.” He says with a small chuckle, planting tender kisses all over your cheeks, feeling your breath against his face as more whiny, needy moans leave your lips, your velvety walls tightening around his hard cock.

Simon's back bends slightly as he rests his cheek against your chest, your fast-beating heart giving him a slight sense of comfort he's never found anywhere else. His thrusts grow more desperate— faster and deeper, feeling your tits vibrate with each loud moan you're letting out, pretty legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer.

“My pretty girl.” Even if he's just playing pretend, the words coming out of Simon's lips feel right, his thumb massaging your cheek while he admires you from beneath him, looking just like an angel. Part of Simon pities you, knowing that he'll never be able to love you back, but he can keep pretending for as long as you need.

The knot in your stomach starts to slowly come undone with every single thrust, feeling his meaty cock throb inside you. Your head leans back against the pillow, pretty eyes closing as you allow the illusion of love to set in— to imagine what it's like to be loved by someone like Simon, to get fucked like this daily, with such tenderness and care.

Simon can feel your walls gripping him harder, only encouraging him to slam his hips against yours the way he knows you love it, the upwards curve on his veiny cock allowing him to hit your spongy cervix over and over, low groans and loud pants escaping his lips. His grip tightens around your waist, fingers digging into the skin as he gets closer to the edge, his heavy balls tightening.

Simon lets out a shaky breath as you hold him closer to your sweaty body by the waist, the arch of your back allowing both of your hearts to be against the other's, both beating wildly with the heat of the moment. His face goes back to the crook of your neck as he lets out a loud, throaty moan as he spills his hot cum into you, riding out your orgasms, feeling your tight cunt grip him like vice.

He waits a few seconds before slowly pulling out of you, cupping your cheek just to have those pretty eyes look up at him with nothing but pure trust and love— so lovely, so pure, so untainted, unlike him. He lays down next to you, wrapping his burly arms around you and bringing your exhausted body against his, cuddling you up.

He plants gentle kisses all over your pretty face, basking in the afterglow of the intense love-making, admiring you like you're a piece of art... and truly, in Simon's eyes, you are. His phone vibrates against your bedside table, reaching out for it and letting out a small sigh at the message. Duty calls, and unfortunately, Simon can't get out of a deployment, even when part of his heart stays with you.

“My mates need me for a mission.” He says softly, planting one last kiss on your forehead before getting up from bed, putting his military-provided clothes back on. He stares at the sticky notes on your desk, giving you a small glance before leaning down and writing something on it, ripping the paper away from the rest and putting it down on your bedside table so you won't forget.

“'S my captain's number. Give 'im a call, yeah? He'll answer.” He promises, not daring to leave until you give him a small nod in confirmation, shooting you one last glance before leaving your room, the entrance door slamming shut soon after.

Your already teary eyes stare at the number written down on the sticky note, looking more enticing by the second.

John Price.

#cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #simon riley #ghost cod #simon ghost x reader #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x f!reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost x female reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon x reader #ghost call of duty #cod #mw2 ghost #mw2 fanfic #mw2 #cod modern warfare #mw2 smut #mw2 x reader #situationships