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#breezy replies
breezy-cheezy · 1 year
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Vash cuddling Meryl or carrying her around like a teddy bear because she's Smol and Sof and Warm. 🥰
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Wow that looks big in this format. E. Extra tol Vash? (click for better quality)
Meryl is not happy with these arrangements. Vash may have found a new weighted stuffie jkHDSKFLS
(new requests are closed now btw)
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transgaysex · 7 months
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You honestly have the coolest and most awesome username on the entire tumblr website I’m so happy for you for snagging it . Trans gay sex always and forever 🫡 my mantra
HI CAMERON THANK YOU 🥺💕 i love transgaysex its my favourite url ive ever had :3 TRANS GAY SEX ALWAYS AND FOREVER BROTHER ‼️
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ingravinoveritas · 4 months
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Hi there! Please, I'm struggling to remember where did we first hear Michael being called a "welsh seduction machine" and David a "soft scottish hipster gigolo". I really wanna know! Do you?
Hello! Well, by no means do I want to take credit if this isn't the case, but I actually started using those tags here on Tumblr four years ago (the tag for Michael in June 2019 and the tag for David in August 2019). After watching GO season 1, I got into Michael first, and so #welsh seduction machine came pretty readily as a tag, though I couldn't say for certain that I was the first one ever to call him that.
(Michael did once mention in an interview when asked about something untrue yet hilarious that he'd read about himself, that he'd read that he was going to name his hypothetical daughter "Sexma"--a.k.a., "Sexma Sheen." Not exactly the same thing, of course, but the closest I think I've come across.)
It took me a little bit longer to become a fan of David's--not because there is anything wrong with him, but because I was so enchanted by Michael from the start and mainlined his filmography first. Once the DT spell was cast, though, I specifically remember trying to think of a way to describe David that would also work as a hashtag, and so #soft scottish hipster gigolo was born. (I also have several other newer tags for David, which can be found in this post.)
What's really surprised me is how both of these tags have suddenly taken off over the last few months/since GO 2 came out. I used to only ever see #welsh seduction machine and #soft scottish hipster gigolo in my saved tags (which aren't even saved anymore because Tumblr glitched out a few months ago and pretty much wiped them out), but now I've been seeing those tags under "Popular Tags," which is absolutely wild. I'm glad folks are enjoying them, though, and it is rather lovely to see my 'children' go out and thrive in the world, as it were.
I hope this helps to answer your question. Again, if anyone knows of any instances of those tags/nicknames that predate my own use, please do feel free to comment on this post and let me know!
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heartskipper-hors · 1 year
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I'm a pretty bad pegasus AND breezie, but I do what I can! I can pollinate and make flowers happy, that's all I need!
Thank you @twi-replies for the ask!
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breezycheezyart · 2 years
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They just clicked right away for me. I know a lot of people dropped it when Shiro was reveled to be engaged to a guy but I've always seen him as pan and I just couldn't stop loving these two. They trust and depend on each other so easily you can't just not put them together, whether romantically or platonically.
Oh, mood! I always hc'd him as loving more than one gender (personally saw him as bi), so my love for the ship didn't really change hehe.
Their narratives just flow so naturally, y'know?? Whenever they were on screen, you were just invested in the plot. They carried the show, imo. Just solid characters that deserved the universe ;w;
Tell me why y’all like shallura
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daydadahlias · 2 years
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lmfao, backing up your false claims is 100% your responsibility. i asked because searching for it i found nothing reputable. it's not my responsibility to make sure you check your news sources <3 continue living stupid, wow, bye
this is such an interesting and convoluted way to say "I don't respect victims or their stories"
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Stop stnanning Chris brown . His music is and and he is not interesting. He does look good skinny though
I don’t stan anybody; not even Azealia lol.
Idk tho… there’s certain posts of celebrities I will reblog, regardless of how I feel about them. Like I don’t like Lana but 2012 pics of her are kinda vintage-looking and sexy, so 😪. And Naomi Campbell has that whole Epstein/madame shit going so I feel uncomfortable reblogging most stuff with her, and rarely do so, but…yeah.
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ghostcat3000 · 2 years
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I love your 1 thing fic, do you plan to upload the last chapter?
I do! The plan was to wrap it up before The Red Squirrel started posting, BUT 1) September has been kicking my butt hard life-wise. I have had very little writing/editing time, 2) chapter 4, which is supposed to be the last chapter, has slowly turned into a monster that is far longer than my self-ordained under 5k word count, and 3) my perfectionism insists that I keep working on it.
If possible, I'll be able to whittle it down to under 5k, but for now I'm going to write and write until it feels right and decide whether or not it needs to split into two chapters. Either way, I'll aim for my birthday to post. Fingers crossed! Thank you for reading!
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The Popular Vote
The livestream always happens on midnight of Saturday. There’s a hefty buy-in to be able to tune in but that never stops the audience from growing in number every stream. Every viewer has one ballot per round, each round is different. Cast your ballot before the vote ends and the majority option gets played out in real-time.
This Saturday night, I made the mistake of staying overtime at work, and I missed the last train home. Which meant walking alone on a dark path that, in the daylight, would be a breezy twenty minute stroll. But at night, it’s a different story. And clearly, since that dark trek put me in the perfect position to be taken away in a van by men who were interested in seeing me crying and screaming in pain and pleasure, at the whim of a merciless audience.
When I wake up, I’m naked and tied up, arms and legs spread out, suspended from the ceiling, with each foot on a small platform that offered enough support to take the strain off my arms and shoulders but not enough to offer any true leverage.
It takes me a few minutes to shake off the grogginess of whatever sedative they’d drugged me with, but when I do, I feel my blood run cold.
I’m surrounded by massive screens, several of which show live footage of my predicament from different angles. The screen that scares me the most is the one showing a live chat feed, with a constant barrage of messages coming in from viewers. The set-up is terrifyingly sophisticated and fear curdles my stomach in a way that makes tears well up in my eyes.
“Please! Please let me go!” I cry into the cold, unfeeling room of machinery and screens. My body struggles against the bindings but there’s no give. There’s no audible reply but I watch the chat light up with comments that make me shudder.
“I fucking love when the whores beg before we’ve even started.”
“She’s hot when she’s squirming, can’t wait to see how much she struggles tonight.”
“I wanna see her beg for mercy. Not that there will be any.”
I sob harder, tears making the chat box blurry in my vision. It doesn’t take long for me to figure out that there’s no one and nothing saving me from whatever is going to happen here.
Suddenly, a robotic voice fills the room. “Welcome to The Popular Vote. For those of you who are new to the show, please remember that each of you have a single vote to cast during every round. Vote in the allotted time and our team will implement the majority vote’s decision. Please enjoy the show.”
I gasp when the door to the room opens and four men walk in, dressed in identical black uniforms with masks covering their faces.
“Please! Please, let me go, this is a mistake!” My desperate voice fills the room but has no impact on the men, they didn’t even look in my direction, instead walking past me towards a storage cabinet behind me.
I watch through the camera’s footage as they open the cabinets and start to pull out item after item. Each one makes me more and more scared as they pull out various toys, vibrators, and other devices and machines I don’t even recognize.
There’s an electronic ding that fills the room and the same robotic voice is back. “Our first poll is beginning. Please vote now. Option 1 is subjecting our victim to clitoral stimulation by vibrator. Option 2 is vaginal penetrative stimulation by fucking machine.”
I cry out, “Wait, no, please! I don’t want this, please stop!” I watch in vain as the votes start to roll in on the screen, a feeling of helplessness overwhelming me as I watch two competing bars increase in percentage on the screen as viewers place their ballots.
There’s a robotic series of dings that sound, signaling the final few seconds of voting and through my panic, I see that the second option has pulled ahead of the first.
I choke out another sob as I watch the four men in the room start moving towards me. Two of them are rolling a machine over, a motorized piston with a massive dildo attached to the end of it. Clearly it’s meant for me.
“Please, please, no, I don’t want this, please stop!” I know it’s useless to beg but I can’t help it. My voice is shaky and thin with apprehension and I can tell it has no effect on any of the men. I glance to the chat box and the messages there make me feel even more helpless.
“That whore is going to love that machine, these little sluts always do.”
“I hope she squirts and cries when she realizes she likes this, stupid whore is going to get fucking ruined.”
In the few moments I spent reading comments, the men have rolled the fucking machine right under me and started to raise it to reach my core.
With my legs tied down and spread, there is nothing protecting me from the toy and it’s violation of me. I feel the tip of the fake cock brush my core and I thrash pointlessly, barely able to move to make a difference.
As the machine continues to rise, I feel my stomach clench when I realize that my pussy is wet. I gasp when I feel the tip of the dildo breach my core, the thickness of the toy filling me so well that I can’t help but groan. The machine continues, pushing the toy slowly and steadily filling my cunt. My back arches as I feel it rub against every part of my now-dripping cunt and I whine when it finally comes to a stop, fully seated inside of me.
I’m panting, the massive dildo splitting me open in a way that feels so fucking good. I clench around it and whimper when pleasure shoots up my spine. I glance at the livestream and see my own image, my eyes wild and body heaving from the pleasure of just having the toy inside of me. The chat box is flooded with comments about me, the way I look, the sounds I make, and the anticipation of what is to come.
Suddenly, one of the men in the room toggles a switch on the machine, and it begins.
My scream is drawn-out and wanton in response to the indescribable pleasure that floods my every sense. The men set the machine at a relentless pace, the huge cock driving into my cunt ruthlessly at a pace that is virtually inhuman.
I’m lost in the sensation of every single thrust sliding against my g-spot and slamming into my cervix, the perfect blend of pain and pleasure. I can feel my body trembling at the onslaught of raw, unadulterated pleasure and the sounds that the machine is pulling from my lips could make a pornstar blush. I can feel the creeping warmth of an orgasm fast approaching as the machine fucks me into submission.
Suddenly, an electronic ding sounds. The robotic voice comes on again, with an announcement that barely registers in my pleasure-scrambled brain. “Please vote to determine the next step. Option 1 subjects our victim to forced orgasms, option 2 is edging and orgasm denial, and option 3 is ruined orgasms.”
I whine and plead but I don’t even know what I’m begging for. My eyes are too unfocused to see the progression of the vote, and of the options, I can’t even begin to fathom which would be the best. I hear the three dings that signal the vote has ended and I force my eyes to focus on the screen, my stomach clenching when I see the result: ruined orgasms.
The machine hasn’t relented on its motions, each thrust driving into my wet cunt in a way that is so perfectly and achingly torturous. My clit is throbbing and part of me wishes I could grind it against something, anything to give me a little more stimulation to push me over the edge. But there’s nothing beyond the machine forcing its cock deep inside of me, making me ride the wave of pleasure that pushes me towards to precipice of a massive orgasm. I feel my entire body tense in response to the impending onslaught of pleasure and my pussy clenches around the dildo splitting me open.
Two more hard thrusts pushes me over the edge and I let out a moaning scream as I feel the tension snap and my body clenches in burning pleasure. A seemingly endless wave of overwhelming and uncontrollable pleasure slams into me as my orgasm erupts. At that exact moment, the toy inside of me a delivers a horrible jolt of electricity, one that slams through my cunt and cruelly and abruptly yanks my body away from pleasure.
The pain takes my breath away but my body reacts more to my ruined orgasm than it does the shock. My moan turns into a wail as useless pleas pour out of my mouth, tears running down my cheeks as I feel the toy continue to fuck me through the disappointment of an orgasm it forced upon me. There’s a cruel emptiness inside of me despite the unrelenting fake cock that fills me with every thrust and a gut-wrenching, unfulfilling hunger that overtakes the pleasure that was horribly ripped away from me.
“Ah, fuck, please, please make it stop!” My voice is ragged and desperate as I plead for mercy from an uncaring audience. The men in the room are maintaining their cold indifference towards my suffering as the machine under their control continues to batter my body.
I feel my body shudder in overstimulation as the merciless machine pushes me closer to another orgasm. There’s no break or respite and my pleas fall onto deaf ears.
And as before, just as I feel my orgasm approaching, the feverish pleasure barely rises within me before it’s ripped away, ruined by the delivery of a shocking pain through my pussy that makes me scream in anguish.
The next time it happens, I hear myself wail out desperate cries and pleas that are met with silence. The time after that, my body jerks pitifully in the bindings as every muscle tenses in grief. The one following is the strongest one yet, the constant buildup and denial pushing my body to the brink of tortured pleasure. As the achingly sweet orgasm barrels through me, my pussy clenches down and gushes with my release. I can feel my own juices flowing down my legs, but my squirting orgasm isn’t any different than the previous cruelly ruined ones. The impeccably-timed electric shock yanks my body back from what would have been a mind-shattering, toe-curling sensation and leaves me feeling hollow and helpless.
After that, I stop keeping track of the ruined orgasms. My body should have been shuddering from the overstimulation of countless orgasms but instead, it aches with a voracious, unfulfillable ache that creates an unbearable cycle of horrible, desperate need barely satisfied with every orgasm until it’s torn away. The predictability of it does nothing to assuage the torment, it only makes it worse, to have every beautiful moment of pleasure marred by the inevitable loss that I can do nothing about.
An electronic ding breaks through the haze, another round. The machine beneath me pauses and I choke back a sob at the temporary relief, desperately try to focus on the words that are being announced.
“Our next round will be introducing pharmacological enhancements and orgasm denial. Please select to determine which of the following will be administered to our victim. Option 1 is administration of our proprietary aphrodisiac with no excess stimulation. Option 2 is administration of our proprietary numbing treatment with clitoral stimulation by vibrator.”
My mind wraps around the meaning behind the announcement and I feel myself tremble with desperation. I want nothing more than to cum, just to feel the full, body-shaking, mind-numbing torrent of pleasure that will flood me when a full, uninterrupted orgasm washes over me. But it’s clear that they have other plans.
I watch as the votes roll in, my heart pounding as the two options are very evenly matched in popularity. I brave a glance at the chat box and whimper when I see the comments.
“I fucking love driving a whore insane with denial. I wonder what kind of promises she’ll make to try and convince us to let her cum.”
“If she were mine, I’d never let her cum again. Sluts don’t deserve orgasms.”
Three dings break my concentration and I swing my gaze over to see the results. Option 2 has won out, but barely. I whimper softly as the four men immediately begin to set up. I watch as they wheel the fucking machine out from under me. A blush stains my cheeks when I see the dildo dripping in slick, evidence of my countless ruined orgasms.
I watch through heavy lidded eyes as one of the men reached for a small container. He deftly opens it and dips a gloved finger in, his finger coming out coated in a creamy ointment.
I watch as he comes towards me, his ointment-covered fingers coming to meet my clit in a soft motion that makes me cry out. He is thorough as he rubs the ointment onto my clit, his fingers gently moving against me, offering a delicious friction that pushes me closer towards another orgasm.
The curling warmth of an oncoming rush builds in my core but before I could fully embrace the pleasure, he pulls away and I choke out a whine. “No please, please I’m so close,” my voice is so broken to my own ears but not enough to sway the man.
They wheel out a different machine, this one shaped like a saddle, lined with ridges that line up perfectly to vibrate against and wreak havoc on my sensitive clit. It doesn’t take long for the men to position the machine underneath me. I feel the cold material of the machine against my burning hot pussy and without even thinking about it, I start to grind myself against it. A broken moan leaves my lips at the pleasure that fills me and I whine softly, trying harder to move myself to rub my throbbing clit against the machine that was very quickly starting to dampen from my dripping cunt.
I know without looking at my own image on the livestream that I made for a shameful display of wanton lust and desperation but I couldn’t bring myself to care. My hips move desperately, the bindings making it so that my movements were limited but not impossible. My eyes drift shut as I chase the pleasure, continuing to grind against the machine.
I can feel myself approaching my orgasm, a few more moments and I could almost taste the sweet pleasure. But something was wrong. Even as I rolled my hips against the machine, I could feel sensation fading in between my legs. My clit throbs and aches but the feeling of the ridges against me has become muted, and no matter how hard I grind myself against the machine, the result was the same and I’m faced with the reality that the orgasm I was chasing so closely is too far out of reach now.
I cry out, begging into the void, “Please, no, please! Make it come back, please! I need to cum, I need it!”
My begs are met with silence and I glance towards the chat box, hoping to see something, anything, that would bring me relief. But there’s nothing but cruel, taunting comments.
“Dumb fucking whore doesn’t even understand what’s happening to her stupid body.”
“They haven’t even turned on the machine yet and she’s crying. I love when sluts realize that there’s nothing they can do against the numbing cream.”
“Her clit is so fucking swollen, I hope she doesn’t get a good orgasm at all tonight.”
Suddenly, the machine beneath me roars to life. I gasp when I feel the vibrations course through my body, the harsh motion batters my clit, but instead of being overwhelmed with pleasure, all I can feel is a vague sensation. I sob when the real understanding of what is happening sinks in. The numbing cream they used on me has left me completely unable to feel the machine. I can feel my pussy clenching in need, dripping over the machine uselessly, unable to enjoy any of it. There are wordless whines and begs erupting from my lips as I chase an unreachable end. I beg because there’s nothing else I can do, and because I know that’s what the audience wants to see.
As my mind wraps around this knowledge, I feel broken. My pussy clenches at the understanding that I’m here purely for other people’s entertainment. My suffering is for their enjoyment, and every orgasm ruined, denied, or forced out of my helpless body is done so without any regard to me or my pleasure. I stare into the camera as the machine underneath me batters my clit in a way that should be making me scream. Despite that realization, or maybe because of that realization, my cunt is leaking and clenching and throbbing. My entire being has narrowed to my clit and my cunt, the ghost sensations of pleasure brushing against my psyche.
My mind is fracturing under the torment of nothing. It tries to rationalize, to make feeling where there is none, and if I really focus, I can fool myself into believing that my clit isn’t numb, isn’t blind to the torturous machine that should be pulling orgasm after orgasm out of me. I don’t know how long I’m suspended in nothingness, how long I’m held in this punishing situation of unreachable pleasure.
Three dings pull me out of my mindless misery. My eyes jump to the screen, seeing the chat light up with excited comments about what’s the come. The robotic voice fills the room.
“We reach the end of our night together and our final poll, please vote now. Option 1 allows our victim to be subjected to forced orgasms after we administer the antidote to the numbing cream in combination with targeted electrostimulation while option 2 involves continued denial with impact play and flogging.”
I can’t stop myself from screaming into the room. “Please! Please, fuck, please let me cum! Please!”
I writhe and renew my struggling, starting to futilely grind myself against the vibrator, hoping that the vote will go in my favor. My eyes glance towards to chat box, my heart pounding in anticipation as I read the flood of messages, hoping desperately for mercy.
“I don’t think this fucking whore deserves to cum tonight, I’d rather see her get her tits whipped.”
“I want to see her pass out from being forced to cum over and over again. Plus I wanna see her tight little body shake with electricity.”
My eyes flit to the results of the poll and my heart leaps when I realize option 1 is pulling ahead. Three dings confirm the results of the vote and immediately, I see one of the men approach me with the antidote.
I sob when his fingers brush this new ointment over my swollen clit and all I can do is babble out whines of gratitude. It doesn’t take long for the antidote to take effect as the vibration of the toy begins to wreck me.
There’s no slow, soft build of pleasure. There’s only pure, bone-shattering sensation that slams into me. It tears my breath away and my body erupts in orgasm. The countless denied and ruined orgasms from the beginning of the night seem to have compounded into one horrible explosion of pleasure that rips through me.
I have no sense of the world around me, my entire being has narrowed to the overwhelming wave of sensation. My cunt pulses, spraying my release over the machine that offers me no respite as it forces my body to unimaginable heights.
Suddenly, a sharp jolt of pain along my side breaks into my haze. My eyes dart over and I see the four men crowded around me, each holding an electric wand that pulses a harsh zap through me at every touch.
“No! Please! Stop!” I scream, my voice pitching higher as the men start their torment. Quick jabs around the soft skin of my stomach, hips, thighs, and arms make me scream and thrash but none of that dulls any of the feeling from the vibrator between my legs.
The pain and pleasure rocks through my body and mind, both blending together in a cruel medley that draws wordless screams from my throat. Another orgasm slams through me right as I feel a terrible zap on my nipple. The scream that bursts out of me makes my own ears ache. My psyche is cracking under the onslaught of torment and there’s not a single part of my body that isn’t screaming in overstimulation. I’m nothing more than a collection of raw nerves and throbbing muscles.
The next zap hits the exposed part of my clit and my ears ring as my vision fades to black. That’s the last thing I remember from that night.
When I wake up the next morning, I’m home, in my own bed, my body achingly sore and exhausted. I glance to my bedside table and I see an envelope. In it is a USB and a note with a phone number.
“Enjoy the footage, we certainly did. Call us if you want a repeat.”
I crawl out of bed to grab my laptop and phone, and I save the number to my contacts.
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Author's Note: I think this is my longest story yet and hope y'all enjoy! Also, I like to imagine this happens in the same universe as Pay to Play, and I'm jealous because I want to live in that universe ;)
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cevansbrat0007 · 19 days
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Sugar Fix
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Summary: Your poor attempt at a joke lands you in hot water with your man. Takes place directly after the events in Sweet Tooth and Sweet Tooth Deluxe.
Warnings: Mature Themes, Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Discussions of Poor Body Image, Arguing, Manhandling, Mentions of Punishment, Spanking, Pussy Spanking, Spanking, Oral Sex (fem rec), Cursing, Minors DNI
A/N: Written for @writer84. Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!
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“God, that was good.” You lean back in your seat, lazily stretching your arms over your head. Your man smiles as he dutifully picks up your plate before briefly giving into temptation long enough to press a tender kiss against your lips. 
“Mm.” Ari hums low in his throat as he repeats the action once more. “Glad you enjoyed it, baby. Still find it hard to believe that you’d never had chocolate chip pancakes before today.”
“Hey! You promised you wouldn’t make fun of me.” You pout, reaching out to swat his perfectly sculpted ass, which was now unfortunately hiding beneath a pair of black sweatpants. At least he’d forgotten to put on a shirt.
Mostly because you were wearing it. 
“And I’m not.” Your man chuckles while adding your dishes to the growing pile in your sink. “I’d never do something so foolish. Especially since we only just made up.” He tosses a wink at you over his shoulder. 
Yeah, and that was mostly your fault.
“I am really sorry about that.” You murmur, feeling a twinge of regret over having subjected your man to several days of the silent treatment. “I should’ve talked to you about that whole business with Charline.” 
“Water under the bridge, baby.” 
Resting your chin on your hand, you watch as your bounty hunter busies himself with filling the sink with hot water and dish soap. Some days it still floored you that you were seeing a man who didn’t put up a fuss about cooking. Or cleaning for that matter.  
“I just meant that I’m in no hurry to have you toss me out on my ass again just yet.” He continues while sudsing up one of the new sponges you’d left laying on the counter. “That’s all I was saying, little Bird.”
“Well that wouldn’t be very hospitable of me, now would it?” You’re quick to counter, allowing your gaze to drop to your bare knees. “Seeing as you were kind enough to break into my home and cook me breakfast.”
“I had a key.” He snorts dismissively. 
“Yeah, one that you stole!” You fire back, doing your best to hide your grin. “From me!”
“What the hell does any of that matter if you were already gonna–” He cuts himself off with a shake of his head before deciding to change tactics. “Look sweetheart, if you wanna argue about semantics can you at least wait until we’re both naked?” 
“I guess so.” Comes your breezy reply as you fiddle with the hem of Ari’s t-shirt. Granted the fit was much too big for you, but it didn’t change the fact that you loved how wearing it made you feel. There really was something to be said for being surrounded by the heady scent of your man. 
“Thank you.” Ari grunts before returning his attention to the stack of dishes in need of a good scrub. “Did you have enough to eat? Can’t have you wastin’ away on me.”
“Sure did.” You beam at him, content to sit back and enjoy the view. No man should be allowed to look that flippin’ sexy while doing simple household chores.
“Good.”
“To be honest, I didn’t even realize I was that hungry until I took that first bite. I suppose that’s what I get for not really eating…” You trail off when Ari turns toward you, his piercing blue eyes locking with yours. “...much over the last couple days.” 
Your pulse speeds up as you watch your Bounty Hunter brace his still-wet hands on the edge of the counter. Which is when you belatedly realize that you probably should’ve kept that tidbit of information to yourself. 
“Little Bird?” 
“Yes, sugar?” You can’t help but wince at the way he says your name. Even still, you decide to stand up, hoping to distract him from the direction his thoughts were taking. “Want some help drying those plates? Because I don’t mind–”
“When was the last time you ate something?” He cocks his head to the side, almost like he’s studying you while he waits for your answer. “And before you get cute on me, baby, I’m talkin’ about before today.”
You can feel yourself physically wilt as you weigh your options. While you tended to believe that honesty was the best policy, sometimes being too honest had the tendency to get you in trouble with your man. 
“I had some toast the other–”
“A full meal.” Ari swiftly interrupts, clearly not in the mood to mince words.
“Well, if you really must know…” Crossing your arms over your chest, you prepare to stand your ground. “I haven’t found myself with much of an appetite lately.” You sniff, ignoring the way his nostrils flare. “Probably on account of our tiff.”
Okay, now that was absolutely true. Because whether this man realized it or not, he had a knack for always making sure you ate at least one proper meal before the day’s end. With him out of the picture, you hadn’t really had any desire to eat. 
Instead of responding, Ari turns to stare out the window, quietly sucking on his teeth as he does. You knew without asking that he was working to rein in his temper before he spoke again, lest he say the wrong thing and start another fight.  
“C’mon Beast, it’s really not a big deal.” You shrug, biting your thumb as will him to cast a glance your way. “Besides, I’m pretty sure these hips could stand to miss a meal or two.” 
While it was certainly a poor attempt at levity, you felt that one of you had to do something to lighten the mood. You startle when Ari suddenly throws down the sponge into the sink, sending water splashing everywhere. 
You watch him slowly dry his hands with a nearby towel before tossing it aside in favor of bridging the distance between you. Good sense and the need for self-preservation has you backing up; however, you scarcely make it two steps before you feel your butt collide with your kitchen table. But your bounty hunter doesn’t stop moving until he’s standing directly in front of you.
“What was that?” He asks without an ounce of friendliness in his tone. In fact, his question comes out sounding more like a dare than anything else. “I reckon I’m a little hard of hearing these days.”
Later, you would kick yourself for taking the bait. 
“Ahem.” Clearing your throat, you can’t help but notice the clench of his jaw. “I said that these hips – my hips – could probably stand to miss a meal.” You repeat, giving him your best prim and proper tone. 
Sometimes the facts weren’t up for discussion. 
Moving with a speed that belies his size, Ari manages to wrap one brawny arm around your waist before using his considerable strength to pin you face down against the kitchen table. Shocked by this sudden mistreatment, you open your mouth fully prepared to protest, only to snap it shut the moment you feel a cool breeze ghost across your bare backside. 
“Try again, sweetheart.” The lawman grunts before delivering a hearty smack to your ass, eliciting a rather undignified screech from you. “Oh? I’m afraid I still didn’t quite catch that.” 
“There’s no need to act like a brute!” You cry as you struggle against his impossible hold. “It’s not right for you to–ahh fuck!” You damn near lose it when his heavy palm connects with your traitorous cunt, the sound of the wet slap echoing throughout the room. 
In that very moment, that sweet bite of pain had never felt so good.   
“Ah, sweetness.” Ari coos, a hint of mocking laughter curling around his tone. “Could’ve sworn I’d fucked some sense into you earlier this morning. Are you tellin’ me my work still isn’t done?” 
You think back to something he’d said when he was busy fucking you senseless. He’d said, or snarled as it were, that you needed a Sir or a Daddy to help keep you in line. At the time you’d assumed that he’d simply got caught up in the heat of the moment. But now… 
Apparently it takes you too long to answer because his next smack has you rising on your toes.  You clench your thighs together, desperate to ignore your body’s response. Although it does little to stop your man from wedging a proprietary hand between them anyway.
“Now is not the time to go quiet on me, little Bird.”
He gently cups your most intimate flesh before expertly parting your messy folds with his thick fingers. A soft cry escapes when he lightly pinches your swollen clit, making your hips buck. 
Sweet Christ! You honestly had no idea just how much you actually enjoyed being manhandled until you crossed paths with this guy. 
“All I was trying to do was answer your question!” You grit out, doing your best to ignore the filthy wet squelch of his palm colliding against your core once more, causing a fresh wave of arousal to dampen your thighs.  
“And I didn’t much care for your answer.” Ari hums, taking a moment to lazily pet your now glistening cunt. 
And who’s fault was that? Just because the man thought he owned the rights to your body didn’t give him the authority to…to…punish you like this. But when you inform him of that, the only response you get comes in the form of an annoying chuckle. 
“I was joking, damn you – ooh!” You whine, stomping your foot for good measure – both of which manages to earn you another spank. 
“But that’s just it, baby.” He rumbles, taking a break from further abusing your poor, overworked flesh. “Last I checked, jokes were supposed to be funny.” You press your face against the cool surface of the table as two sinful fingers playfully tease your entrance. “And talking shit about these curves ain’t funny, right?”
“Y-yes! I mean right.” In need of a little relief, you attempt to entice your man by wiggling your ass. But instead of doing as you bid, those same fingers soon find their way back to your swollen bundle of nerves, pinching just hard enough to get and hold your attention.
“Glad you think so.” He murmurs, leaning down to brush his lips along the sensitive shell of your ear as his free hand moves to rub soothing circles along your lower back. “And since I’ve finally got you in the mood to listen, how about we talk about something else?” 
Instead of responding, you merely nod – giving him leave to get whatever the hell he wanted off of his perfectly sculpted chest.  
“The next time you get the bright idea to shut me out without givin’ me a chance to plead my case, you had better do a damned good job respecting this gorgeous body while I’m on ice.” The air of danger in Ari’s husky purr has goosebumps rippling along your heated flesh. “Because if you don’t, I swear to God the moment you let me back in, I’m gonna do a lot more than spank this pretty pussy. You get me?”
Still unable to form words, you decide to let your body do the talking. Groaning low in your throat, you arch your hips and wiggle your ass, purposely grinding your cunt against his now drenched palm. 
“Ah, sweetheart.” He rasps in approval, gently nipping your earlobe with his sharp teeth. “You get me. Yeah, you do.” 
As a reward for your submission, Ari takes pity on you by slowly spearing his fingers inside your sopping wet core. Now it’s his turn to groan when he feels your velvety walls flutter around him, eagerly sucking him back in when he tries to pull out. 
“Fuck if my girl ain’t got a greedy fucking pussy.” Your bounty hunter muses, more to himself than to you. “Are you sore? Need me to let you rest some more?” 
In all reality, what he really wanted to do was splay you out on the table and kiss your puffy pussy lips until you were a sobbing, trembling mess. But he’d also settle for burying himself balls deep inside of you too.
Regardless of which one he chose, they both all but guaranteed that you’d remember this particular lesson for days to come. Because no one was allowed to talk shit about his beautiful Bird – not even you.  
“Want you to fill me up again.” You tell him, meaning every word even as his expert touch threatens to rob you of breath. “Help me work up an appetite. Please, Sir.” You tack on the last bit, hoping that might be enough to tip your man over the edge. 
Your now frantic pulse sings to new heights when you’re treated to the sound of Ari’s sweatpants hitting the floor behind you. Apparently he felt that you’d been punished long enough – something for which you were grateful. 
You can’t help but whine when he finally removes his fingers, leaving your empty walls clenching around nothing but air. Anticipation fills you while you wait, expecting to feel the bulbous head of his cock glide its way through your slippery folds. 
However, you’re surprised when he drops to his knees instead. His large, slightly calloused hands grip the backs of your thighs, forcing your legs apart just enough to make his intentions clear. 
“How ‘bout you feed me first, greedy girl?” He growls, possessively nuzzling his nose along the soft skin of your inner thigh. “I have a feeling I’m gonna need all my strength to help your stubborn ass work up a proper appetite.”
“Oo-okaay!” Your legs threaten to give out when Ari’s wide, flat tongue begins lapping at your damp flesh, making a show of savoring your sweet honey. He holds you in place while he feasts, his subtle use of strength letting you know that your only job was to keep still and submit to his sensual assault. 
“Mm...” Ari rumbles, enjoying every desperate little whine and whimper that makes its way past your lips. "Best meal I've had in days." Forgoing his need to breathe, he fully buries his head between your thighs, content to eat you from the back as if he had all the time in the world.
Which he did, especially now that make-up sex was once again back on the menu. 
END
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470 notes · View notes
breezy-cheezy · 5 months
Note
You are deep in the paint about One Piece and me and my datemate watched OPLA recently so I will tell you this thing I said while we were talking about Shanks.
He said something to the effect of Shanks is CRAZY STRONG, perhaps one of the strongest, and has some special ability that allows him to tell anyone weaker than him to GTFO, so it's a fucking mystery why he lost his arm when by all rights he never needed to lose the arm. He's still the strongest without it, but why'd he lose it in the first place if he didn't have to???
So I replied, after like a minute of thought, "Because he might not need the arm, but Luffy needed him to lose his arm". Luffy needed the lesson he was going to learn for Shanks giving up that piece of himself to save Luffy's life. He needed to see the stakes and be given that lesson of actions, consequences, collateral damage, giving pieces of yourself for the sake of your crew/family/nakama.
Furthermore, with Sanji and Luffy being connected through "my mentor/surrogate father literally gave up a piece of himself to save my life", stands to logic that Sanji also needed that lesson in the narrative sense. These older guard pirates passed along something vital, giving up something that they don't need to live fulfilling lives but would be seen as incredibly important, to teach the next generation something and give them tools with which to do better.
I don't go here (I don't have the spoons for the entirety of One Piece tbh), but I liked the conclusion I came up with and wanted to share it in the hopes that you might like it too. I don't think I'm breaking any new ground here tbh but as an outsider, it was neat to think about.
I SURE AM, BUDDY X'''D Thanks for popping in! 👀 I got thoughts (and manga screencaps since you won't read it anyway, FREE REIN:
Hm. I mean point taken, but I mean...even the strongest people aren't infallible? Even IF Shanks has Conquerer's Haki (the power in question) which is something very special someone has to be born with and trained to use to its fullest, that doesn't mean it'll fix everything. Also like. He's also been shown to kinda....lose control of it when nervous or on edge.
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Like my dude did not have to do this. He mentions later he doesn't like being on different territory or something LOL (he's visiting a different powerful pirate leader here).
Anyway to rescue Luffy at that time, he had to act FAST and was probably SCARED FOR HIM so like. Maybe didn't have the time to make the Haki register? It came down to losing Luffy or bodily thrusting his own arm forward to block the bite from the sea king....and well. Shanks has 2 arms. Only one Luffy. The choice was easy. Even upon losing the arm he didn;t seem upset by it really.
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For the sake of the new era he says....the face of it being Luffy himself. And yea the wording really is "I gave it up" and him clearly having no regrets.
STILL I think you do have a point, this was VERY important for Luffy to learn. This same kid stabbed his own face to prove he was "manly enough" to be a pirate (so Shanks wouldn't leave without him....like his brother Ace....like his brother Sabo, to an extent, through "death" in his case) so the realization that being a pirate....would not be easy. There would be sacrifice. There would be pain. But also in a way, it was Shanks showing how important Luffy was to him. This, and passing down that straw hat much to big for Luffy....yeah.
It's clear then he's not ready. Not yet. It's with these parting gifts that Luffy is finally able to let Shanks go, and improve himself so he's strong enough to protect others, so they don;t have to do for him what Shanks did. Luffy learned to live, and while Shanks's sacrifice was devastating to Luffy, he took it to heart to keep going and grow stronger. And yea, that Nakama is just that important, more than limbs. More than life.
NOW SANJI ON THE OTHER HAND....similar but different. Luffy and Sanji were very lonely kids, but for different reasons. Luffy was clingy to anyone who showed him anything close to kindness, while Sanji....puffed up like a scared cat. Without going deep into details, he's from an extremely abusive family that beat into him he's not worth anything because he's weak. Especially from his father. So when Zeff gives him all the food, and sacrifices his own leg....well...
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"Why did you do that for me?! I never gave you a reason to be kind to me!!!" And Zeff responds with their shared dreams of the All Blue...but I also feel like it's just. Sanji is a kid. He's just a kid. Again a face of the new generation to come. Zeff had his chance to search for the All Blue and be a pirate, but Sanji's life is just beginning. I'm sure that fueled his decision too.
But unlike Luffy, this just made Sanji cling harder. In a way he gave up his dream to support Zeff, out of guilt, out of a sense of duty and kindness he'd....not really experienced and didn't know what to do with. And Zeff probably allowed it for awhile, because goodness Sanji is just a kid, and he needed someone to help him grow and learn.
But it took Luffy to come along, bringing "I will live for you" to challenge Sanji's "I will die for you" conclusion.
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Which uh. Didn't really fix Sanji's self sacrificial nature, but it HELPED, lmao. Eventually he was able to let go of suppori=ting the Baratie to finally chase his dream...as long as he doesn't die for a crewmate in the process hsdhfhdsk
So YEA IDK how much their mentors/father figures knew/thought about their sacrifices, but there sure were willing choices to give up their limbs for the upcoming generation/era, no matter what. I loved Zeff emphasizing that to Garp in OPLA, I think that's extremely important and a huge theme to One Piece in general. Cycles, power, and how many conflicts rise from powerful forces refusing to let go of their power, thus suffocating the new generations (the World Government smacking down so hard on the age of pirates).
Shanks and Zeff gave their support and protection to ensure these kids could live their fullest lives, and I think that's beautiful!
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transgaysex · 2 months
Note
Wow transgaysex my friend transgaysex, every time I see you i think to myself that I should go have some trans gay sex
this is the highest honor i could ever be told. please go and have trans gay sex. follow in my footsteps
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lessi-lover · 3 months
Note
Like they go out with the rest of the team but then sneak away early and just go cuddle and watch tv or something
touch starved II k.mccabe ~
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small one for you love x 🫶🏻
15★ ~  k.mccabe
a breezy wind meandered through your slightly open window, bringing with it a slither of the afternoon sun that creeped past your curtains. you shifted under the covers, unintentionally stirring your sleeping girlfriend lying next to you. she lay flat on her stomach, her messy hair dishevelled across the sheets.
moving your eyes to gaze at the ceiling, you mentally mapped out your day, thinking back to the series of commitments you had made with your friends, something you were sure katie would have a few words about. you gently rubbed your eyes, allowing them to adapt to the light, shutting them again as the slight glare from the sun made you wince softly.
"morning, or should i say afternoon?" you spoke, your voice a soft murmur, as your lips gently brushed her forehead with a kiss. your fingers delicately weaved through her hair, lightly scratching at her scalp. she sighed contentedly, subtly moving upwards to invite more of your comforting touch.
you watched your girlfriend as she slightly adjusted her position, moving her head off her pillow and onto the soft linen sheets. you chuckled as a sigh from the girl made a strand of her hair catch wind, before falling back down into her charming tangle of hair.
"are you staring, love?" she mumbled with a lazy smile, her thick irish accent invading your ears, snapping you out of your trance. her emerald eyes, still heavy with sleep, opened slightly, looking up at you in amusement. "perhaps." you whispered in a teasing tone, a warm grin spreading across your face.
"quit it." she grinned, a giggle leaving her lips. her arms gently lifting upwards to smack against the mattress, sending a ripple through your sheets. her movement brought her closer, her hair cascading over you like a blanket. "can't help it." you replied, your gaze still lingering on her, captivated by her soft features.
"you're impossible," she declared, voice still thick with sleep. her smile widening, as she pressed her face into the sheets. "but that's why you love me," you teased, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek, hand gently running up her back.
"mmm, one of the many reasons." she hummed, her arms moving to wrap around your waist, face now resting against your shoulder. you let yourself relax into her warmth, matching your breaths to the rhythm of her own. she inched closer, her hands clasping behind your back, bringing your chests flushed together.
"my favourite girl," she nuzzled her nose into your collarbone, chuckling when she spotted the light blush that tinted your cheeks. no matter how long you and katie had been together, you still went pink at the slightest term of endearment from the irish girl.
"always know how to make my girl blush huh?" she laughed, throwing her head backwards when your cheeks only reddened at her words. "you do. everytime." you admitted, your hands still continuing their journey through her hair. "you're so adorable when you blush." katie replied, and you felt the red hue remaining on your face deepen.
she shifted again, her body tightening around you, as she tried her best effort to pull you even closer than before. with a huff, she skillfully pulled your body over her own, guiding your body to rest on top of her. you now rested on her chest, a laugh leaving your lips as she successfully maneuvered your body.
"there. that's better." she said, in a satisfied tone, her hands finding their way around your waist, holding you in place. her body radiated heat through your thin clothes, warming your cold skin. you couldn't help but smile, your girlfriend grinning like a happy kid with chocolate.
"comfortable now?" you teased, looking down at her, faces only mere millimeters apart. "much." she replied, cheekily kissing the side of your face. "got my love right where i want her." you lay there for a moment, breathing in the unusual peace. "team night remember?" you reminded her, though a large part of you yearned to stay in bed for the rest of the afternoon.
you were fully aware that katie might be a little reluctant to go to the team bonding night, so when her following words were, "do we really have to go?" you weren't surprised in the slightest. "unfortunately yes, baby." you responded with an apologetic smile, meeting her gaze.
"we did promise the girls, and you know steph and beth were looking forward to it. they've been planning it all week." her expression was a mix of annoyance and sadness, and you could already see the pout painted on her face. "but it's so warm here, darlin. and i never get to be with you when the girls are around." she protested, her grip on you tightening as if to emphasise her point.
"i know, love." you conceded, tracing your hand over the curve of her jawline. "but think about it, -it's just for a few hours and then you can come home and have me all to yourself." she sighed heavily, her pout turning into a smirk, as she looked up at you. "okay. but you owe me some cuddles when we get home." she negotiated. "deal." you said chuckling softly. "extra cuddles for you love."
attempting to untangle yourself from her proved difficult as she tightened her arms, reluctant to let go of you. finally, with a gentle struggle, you managed to break free and get up, only to feel her quickly grasp the waistband of your shorts, pulling you back down into her with a sly grin.
"katie! you said you would get up." "i never said when darlin."
~
arriving at beth and viv's house, you could already hear the unmistakable sound of chaos from outside. you could just catch muffled voices with bursts of laughter coming from inside, and you had no doubt that jen and beth were already putting leah's new karaoke machine to good use.
you exchanged an amused glance with your girlfriend as you approached the door, the deafening voices growing louder as you walked up the steps.
as you opened the door you were immediately greeted with myles their new dog. the friendly puppy welcoming you with excitement, as he wagged his tail furiously. "hello there, my baby!" you exclaimed, bending down to give him the attention he was craving. your hands moved gently up the sides, warming up his fluffy coat.
as you scratched lightly at his ears, you felt a pair of hands pinch your hip. glancing up, you saw your girlfriends signature scowl. "only call me baby." she complained, a sternness in her voice that couldn't hide the playful glint in her eyes.
you chuckled, lifting yourself off the floor to wrap your arm around her. "of course my favourite baby," you replied, giving her a small peck on the cheek.
grabbing your wrists, she pulled your body closer, connecting your lips together. her hands raised to your chin, deepening the kiss, before she swiped her tongue over your bottom lip. you felt you stomach flip, as she played with the baby hairs on your neck. you felt your air leave your lunges, as you tried to pull away from her touch, the brunette only holding you tighter.
tapping her shoulder, she finally let you go with a small bite at your top lip. pulling back, you looked up at her spotting her smirk and flushed lips. "you mean your only baby." she corrected, a teasing grin playing on her face. "yes, my only baby." you agreed, waving your hands to try and calm your blushed cheeks.
"well, well. mrs and mrs mccabe have arrived." kyra called out, and you realised that a series of eyes were now watching you both. "shove it, cooney." your girlfriend retorted, sending a glare towards your younger teammate, sending a playful jab into her arm. "just saying," she shrugged, her aussie accent bouncing off the walls.
as you and your girlfriend delved deeper into the house, your focus now shifted to the chaos unfolding in beth and viv's kitchen. flour dusted nearly every surface, and an array of toppings lay scattered along their counter.
the kitchen was filled with your teammates, each of them immersed in creating their questionable idea of a pizza. alessia claiming that because she had italian roots, she was too supervise the pizza making, however this quickly resulted in her becoming the 'babysitter', as she found herself running around the kitchen trying to stop kyra throwing flour at the other girls.
"so you want to gently fold the dough like this." the blonde gratefully taking on the role of demonstrating how to roll the pizza, her hands working the dough skillfully, as it turned into a smooth, circular base. "you don't want to roll it too much or the dough will become too tough." she explained, although you can't say you heard all of tips over the loud singing coming from the living room.
rolling your dough between your hands, you couldn't help but laugh at the state of viv sitting on a stool, correcting everyone's pizza making techniques. her sharp insults were delivered with a mix of love and sarcasm that was classic viv.
"you're rubbish laura!" she exclaimed, hands pointing to laura's pizza which had unfortunately made its way to the floor. her cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she tried to save her dinner. giving up she shrugged it off, kim already by her side to help her clean the floor. the kitchen erupted in laughter, yourself sharing an amused look with katie.
decorating your dough, under alessia's watchful eye, a mischievous glint appeared in katie's eyes. without warning, she dipped her hand into the bag of flour and threw a handful of it in your direction. the white powder dusted your cheeks, leaving yourself in shock before you burst into a fit of laughter.
her actions lit a fire underneath your friends, their eyes lighting up and in seconds you could hear the unmistakable voice of kyra shouting out, "flour war!" instantly, the kitchen was turned from a pizza making class to battlefield, flour bombs being launched in every direction.
flour flew through the air, your teammates now covered in white dust. alessia tried her best to protest, "hey! we're making pizz-!" she yelled, but her words were barely out, before her face met the bowl of flour by lotte and all her morals went out the window.
as the flour war raged on, now beth and jen had joined in, their attention turned to steph. with sauce in hand, they ran around targeting a screaming steph, before they landed in a pile of limbs, the three of them collapsing in a heap on the floor.
you heard shouts next to you, watching as vic went down with a war cry, desperately trying to fend of a determined kyra from hitting her. darting around the kitchen, you felt sudden hand tug on the back of your jumper. your body swiftly hauled backwards into somebody's chest. you recognised the familiar hold immediately, a hand holding flour in front of your face.
"your tan is better that mine. i think you need some of this, love!"
"katie no-!"
~
settling on the couch, the group of you had spent the majority of the last few hours cleaning up the mess you had made, the remnants of your fight still visible on all your faces, with everyone exhausted from their cleaning efforts.
after much deliberation, and considering the state of the kitchen, leah suggested abandoning the homemade pizza idea, and instead just ordering a few pizza's to share. her suggestion was met with an array of agreement across the girls. except for a grumbling alessia, with her italian pride still intact, she claimed that "it's never as good as the real thing."
the movie played, the glow of the screen reflecting on all your faces. some were sprawled across the couch, the lounge adorned with pillows and blankets, yourself content in your girlfriend's arms, myles resting soundly on your lap.
as the beginning scene played, you felt katie move her body closer to your own, her lips brushing past your ear. "i'm going to grab a drink. come with me, darlin?" her question was casual, but there was a hint of something else in her eyes that suggested she wanted more than just a drink.
"sure baby." you agreed, moving the sleeping puppy of your lap, his paws padding over to vic, who welcomed him under her blanket. snacks began being passed around, yourself getting up of katie's lap, making your way to the spare bedroom, as she followed not far behind.
you began to follow her lead, the sound of your friends' laughter fading into the background, as you ventured further down the hall. katie's hand found yours, as she gently guided you through the house.
once inside the spare bedroom, katie closed the door softly behind you both, turning to face you with an affectionate smile. "what's up, love?" you asked, confused with her sudden behavior. "just wanted a moment alone with you." she said, her voice low and warm. "i haven't gotten to be with you tonight." she frowned, a small pout on her lips.
you reached out, bringing her touch - starved body closer to yours, tucking your head into the crook of her neck. she walked you forwards, your steps falling into the same pattern as her own. just as your calves brushed against the end of the bed, your girlfriend crash tackled you into the sheets.
the tackle sent you both into a fit of giggles, the sound echoing warmly against the walls. as you lay there, your limbs tangled across bed, her breath tickled your skin as she breathed in your comforting scent. her finger lifted your chin, guiding your gaze to meets hers.
as her lips ghosted over yours, there was a moment of anticipation, as if time seemed to stand still. it always felt like this with katie. then as she connected them together, it felt like a perfectly practiced dance, one of familiarity and discovery, that made you feel loved.
her tongue once again swiped against your lip, silently asking for permission, which you gave willingly. she deepened the kiss, her hand tangling in your hair, as she tried to the gap between you. it felt fueled, your breath stolen from your lungs. your teeth clashed together, and you felt her smile into the kiss.
pulling back you kissed her jawline, finger tracing over her freckles. your hands found each other, interlocking by your side. you lay there for a moment, both of you catching your lost breaths. she wrapped her legs tightly around your midsection, smiling down at you. she pressed a warm kiss to your forehead, her lips lingering before she pressed another to your cheek.
you now wrapped her hair around your own fingers, moving her hair out her face as she let out a satisfied breath, moving her hand down to rest against your hip. she placed a series of loving kisses on your chest, the thin singlet making it easy for her to access.
after a moment of comfortable silence, you broke the quiet. "we should get back to the girls, shouldn't we." you suggested, your voice soft as you gazed up at the brunette. "we don't have to." she responded with a guilty smile, her thumbs rubbing gently against your wrists.
her suggestion was tempting enough, but you could already hear the likely footsteps of your teammates outside. "katie." you begged, unable to push her off your body. she groaned, her head falling backwards, as she now seized your wrists above your head.
"katie!" you exclaimed with a gasp, as the brunette playfully belly flopped onto you. the impact of her fall knocking the air from your lungs. her laughter mixed with yours as she held you tightly. "soon, darling." she tucked her head into your chest, a content sigh leaving her lips.
suddenly a series of loud knocks interrupted your laughter, jolting you both out of the moment.
"you better be fully dressed-!"
~
411 notes · View notes
ayaboba · 5 months
Text
DAY 3: IT’S JUST THE TWO OF US ❅⋆⍋
summary: a cozy vacation spent in another nation
characters: neuvillette, xiao, baizhu, wanderer, ayato, kaeya, childe, lyney, albedo, zhongli, wriothesley, venti, diluc, alhaitham, kazuha.
notes: locations handpicked by me!! these are general days in another nation, you’re not really doing anything too exhilarating, total wc: 1.8k.
⋆⁺₊❅⋆ dreamy december event masterlist
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mondstadt, starfell lake - neuvillette, xiao, baizhu
Breezy and wide plains on the tops of jagged mountains, carrying a sweet breeze of berries and dandelions. Mondstadt, the nation of freedom, stole the hearts of numerous travelers, with its homely and cozy atmosphere, frolicking the winds all around Teyvat and coaxing the interest of many.
It was Mondstadt’s virtue that first drew him in. Freedom, peace, and comfort, the only things he has ever hoped, wished, yearned with every fibre of his being. Mondstadt sounded like a long-awaited exhalation of air, to finally breathe in a new breath of fresh opportunities and beginnings.
The earliest beams of sunshine crept through the sheer curtains.
If it were any other day, you’d let out a vexed groan before rolling to the other side. But today, today was another day in Mondstadt, and you’d be stupid to let any of the time go to waste.
Shoving the curtains aside, you observe in awe as Starfell Lakes glimmers like a pool of sapphire diamonds or like a flutter of fairies, their pixiedust sprinkling a bit of happiness into your day.
��It really is so beautiful here.”
The abrupt voice startles you for a split second. “Don’t creep up on me like that,” faux disappointment lacing your voice. He mutters a quiet apology before letting out a faint smile, interchangeably switching his gaze from you to the lake.
“Should we go outside?”
You nod in agreement, the excitement rejuvenating you even further. “If it’s this spectacular from afar, can you imagine how majestic it must be up close?”
“Very majestic,” he repeats, leading you both out the door.
liyue, jueyun karst - wanderer, ayato, kaeya
Dizzying peaks and swirling mists convey an atmosphere of grandeur and mystique, alluring visitors and their fascination towards the beauty of Jueyun Karst, rumoured to be the abode of the adepti, typically unreachable by mortals. Yet, there was always an abundance of people willing to test their luck and willpower, returning to tell dramatic tales of exaggerated perils and glory. Even so, there were still facts that none could deny about the quiet abode, namely, the distinctive tranquility fusing within its clouds.
It’s truly hard to believe that you weren’t a figure in a watercolor painting. Soft brushes of orange, yellow, and green leaves dance in the chilly breeze. The sound of approaching footsteps quickly snaps you out of your afternoon reverie as you turn your head towards a familiar face.
He greets you with an unsually innocent, lighthearted wave, accompanied with an intriguing wrapped basket. It doesn’t take much to piece together the pieces and present an overall message, not that he tried very hard to conceal it. Perhaps this vacation has muddled up parts of his cognitive functions.
“How are you feeling?” he inquires, the question evoking some sort of suspicion within you. “Hungry? Bored?” he continues, appearing oblivious to your raised eyebrows.
“…both?” you reply, a little confused and hesitant. “I won’t say no to some lunch.”
“Perfect, I found just the place.”
inazuma, chinju forest & grand narukami shrine - childe, lyney, albedo
Luminous flowers hidden deep in the forests, fragrant cherry blossoms lining the streets of Inazuma—the diverse variation of natural features that Inazuma beholds captivates the interest of those seeking something different, a thirst for something that simply cannot be found anywhere else.
Chinju forest, a secluded area of glowing streams and blooms, far enough from the attention of the city, and close enough to the allure of the grand shrines, a more than ideal option.
In the space of Chinju Forest, day was like night, and night was like day. There was really no hourglass here, where time ambled, the grains of sand dripping one at a time. It unlocked a rare sense of bliss, where no-one was obliged to be anything or do anything.
Despite the strong desire to explore the all-imposing Grand Narukami Shrine, the sheer amount of the flight of stairs that you needed to overcome was already giving you second thoughts.
“…Please don’t tell me…there’s more,” he groans, almost succumbing to his knees and screaming up at the sky. “How many stairs do you think we’ve walked up so far? I’ll say at least two hundred, maybe even two fifty.”
No words leave your mouth; there’s none in your head either; all you feel is a growing agonising pain in your calves and thighs. Short, tired pants take turns exiting your body, and you glance up at the new set of stairs—hopefully the last.
“Yeah, me too,” he replies, nodding understandingly as he recovers and hands you a bottle of chilled water. “Take your time, this is going to be a long one.”
After about ten minutes, you both set off again. To your utter confusion, he seems so energised, sprouting encouraging comments in the midst of silence. You’re thankful for the cheers of reassurance, but all that’s needed is a good night's rest under those glowing flowers and twinkling fireflies.
You don’t even realise for a good minute that you’ve reached the top. The sweat pooling along your clothes is an indicator of your mood—exhausted and sore all over.
Your name rings over the few other people gathered at the shrine as he eagerly hands you a fortune slip.
“Read it out loud; apparently it’s quite accurate.”
Modest Fortune: Clouds cover half the moon and the fog is thick.
Above you is the mood shrouded by cloud. Ahead of you, everything is engulfed by fog.
Though the way ahead seems unclear at the moment, all will become clear when the time comes.
Take this opportunity to improve yourself while waiting for the clouds to clear.
You’re not sure how to feel.
sumeru, port ormos - zhongli, wriothesley, venti
Port Ormos holds everything.
Marketing secrets, priceless treasures, and an aromatic scent of homemade dishes crafted with exotic spices and herbs, carrying through the refreshing winds of nearby seawater. It’s enticing—everything from the cultural architecture to the species of trees. Despite its prominence throughout Teyvat, it’s not as overcrowded as you originally thought it to be. Of course, it’s still busy, but everyone mostly keeps to themselves as they go on with their usual lives. At every new turn, you find yourself enamoured by the great variety of stores, keen to explore every inch of them, no matter how unrealistic that goal may appear.
Someone who’s probably more excited about being in the Port Ormos was probably the person trailing by your side. Out of the blue, he’d point and mutter an interesting fact, or occasionally go up to the store owner with a handful of questions, as you stood awkwardly behind him. It’s quite fine by you, though; the several friendships he’s established with owners have brought in handy discounts and bonuses.
“We should try out that new waterside restaurant,” he says one evening as you walk hand-in-hand by the docks, admiring the warm tones of a summer sunset blending together over the borders of clouds. “One of the vendors told me they have a special on Sundays.”
“Ah, a special,” you hum, amused. “Is that what caught your eye?”
“Special things always catch my eye,” he replies, a mischievous smile spreading on his face. “Would you like an example before we enter?”
You arrive at the entrance of the restaurant, and like mentioned, it boasts a stunning view of the clear and pristine waters, lapping at the edge.
There are floral garlands with small lights slithering across the corners of the ceilings, lit with blazing lamps, soft crackles of the flame add to the intimate atmosphere.
“If you insist, then sure,” you answer to his previous question. Your attention is more focused on searching the restaurant for a waiter to call.
“I think they might be standing right beside me.”
fontaine, elynas - diluc, alhaitham, kazuha
The cosmos present themselves in the elegant fashion of being subtle yet imperial, with millions of sparkling stars sprinkling all across Fontaine’s heavens, effortlessly illuminating the world underneath.
The pale streaks of moonlight gleam down onto the cascading waters and the array of flowers and shrubs, casting a magical afterglow that creates a bewitching sense of enchantment, like you were an illustration in an ancient storybook lost as the ages gone by.
Have you ever tried to paint at night? To become a midnight muse?
Cutting through the stillness were the delicate strokes of brushes on a canvas. It’s a smooth and soft sound, as the colours glide and complement each other.
You’re sitting opposite each other, one the muse of another.
With an air of finality, he looks up at you with a satisfied expression on his face as he begins to pack away the paintbrushes and palettes. Whether he’s content with his product is unknown. Nothing about his face or mannerisms convey an emotion, unless if you count the usual peaceful visage.
“Are you close to finishing?” he asks politely as he packs away the last of his equipment. “It’s alright if you haven't; those mountains aren’t exactly easy to get in the right shape.”
He’s right; the intricacies of Fontaine’s environment are undeniably striking and tedious to replicate, from the very details of the petals to the shade of grass.
You add the last few finishing touches before giving it one last, fleeting look.
“I’m finished.”
As you mutter those two words, something stirs in the air. The world suddenly feels so vastly beautiful, and this particular point in time feels so perfectly sacred that it couldn’t have been a mere coincidence, and you know it’s not.
You know that this very moment, this very vacation, this very night—you know that he must’ve planned this all along.
It was so sweet.
“Show me yours,” you suggest, crossing one leg over the other. Everything feels a thousand times more divine; everything feels so much more meaningful that it's imbedded into your head, in your guts; there's a doubt on whether it will ever leave.
“What’s got you so happy all of a sudden?” he asks lightheartedly. “Don’t raise your expectations too high; I can’t be an exception for everything.”
You’re just smiling, beaming up at the glittering stars, forever grateful for all the light they’ve bestowed upon you, because it’s been a while since you’ve last told them thank you.
Their splendour radiates down to your face; iridescent shimmers twinkle in the tears unknowingly sliding down your face.
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moonstruckme · 5 months
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just finished a rewatch of ootp and i forgot how cute luna and harry’s friendship is!! had me start thinking about what a james potter x luna lovegood-esque reader relationship would look like and i RAN to your ask because i just have to see what your take on it would be! love love LOVE ur writing, no pressure to write this tho if the inspo doesn’t hit!! thank u lovely <333
I forget how sweet they are all the time too! Thanks for requesting honey <3
James Potter x whimsical!reader ♡ 986 words
James comes home to find all of his pants on the floor. 
“Unless I’ve started sleepwalking,” he says, and you look up at the sound of his voice from where you’re crouched next to one pair of jeans, apparently digging through his pockets, “I’m fairly sure I put these away after I took them out of the dryer last night.” 
“Oh, don’t worry,” you reassure him in that quiet, breezy way of yours. “You did. If you were sleepwalking, I would tell you.” 
James waits a second for you to elaborate, then realizes how foolish that is of him. “Then what are they all doing on the floor, my love?” 
“It’s the first day of the waxing moon.” Coins clink in your palm as you remove it from his pocket, and then—to James surprise—simply submerge your hand in the opposite pocket, dropping the change in. “You keep a lot of money in your pants, did you know? It’s lucky the dryer didn’t shake it all out.” 
Actually, he had found a few coins after taking out his laundry the night before, but apparently there’s still some left over in his deep pockets. “What does the moon have to do with anything? And are you robbing me? If so, you’re doing a horrible job, sweetheart.” 
You sit back, setting your bum on your heels, and smile at him in that indulgent way you do when you think he’s being silly. It emits a soft glow, and James can’t help but squat in front of you, pecking you on the lips in belated greeting. 
You kiss him back without complaint, lips soft and pliant and curved against his. “You switch your coins to the opposite pocket for good fortune during the waxing moon, Jamie. You can’t tell me you haven’t done it before.” 
“I can tell you most certainly that I haven’t,” he promises, tucking a hand behind your ear to cradle your head. You lean into the touch absentmindedly even as your lips draw into a little frown. 
“Then how did your family get to be so rich?” you muse softly. 
It takes some effort for James to smother the laughter that rises in his chest, turning it into a pensive hum. “I suppose they might’ve always known and just kept it a secret from me. My mum did say she wanted me to make my own way in the world.” 
“Oh.” You nod, certainty restored to your countenance. “That’s it, then. Not very considerate of them not to give you the tools for success, but I suppose every parent has their own ideas about those things.” 
James only hums again, lips curving of their own volition. “Anything else we need to do tonight to accommodate the waxing moon, darling?” 
You laugh, the sound light and lovely as the tinkling of wind chimes. “Jamie, the waxing moon lasts for fourteen days. We’ve got two weeks for everything we want to do.” 
“Oh, how silly of me.” He grins at you, stealing another quick kiss. “Everything, you say? What might that be?” 
“Well,” you say, returning to your task with the next pair of pants closest to you, “the waxing moon helps draw good things toward you. Like fortune” —you hold up a sparse palmful of coins for him to see before transferring them to the other pocket— “or a good harvest, or new love, or new job—didn’t you say you were thinking about asking for a promotion? This would be a good time.” 
“Maybe,” James replies with due consideration, but truly his mind has gotten snagged on one idea and not let go. “Love, eh?” He grins at you, reaching to wrap his hands around your waist and sliding you across the floor to him. “Should I be prepared to feel extra besotted for the next couple of weeks?” You smile and lean your head onto his shoulder to look up at him, going lax in his embrace. You’re a rather placid thing by nature, but he knows you secretly love it when he manhandles you like this. You go all soft and cloudy-eyed, and even now, you certainly seem far from scolding him for interrupting your task. “I’m pretty far gone already,” he says, just to hammer it home, “so I’m not sure how much worse it can get.” 
He’s rewarded with a light flush across the tops of your cheekbones. “It’s new love, Jamie,” you correct him. “The waxing moon doesn’t affect love that already exists.” 
“Oh, I see.” He narrows his eyes down at you. “So this is your opportunity to ditch me for some new bloke, is that it?” 
The adoration doesn’t leave your gaze, but you shrug. “I’m not manifesting that, so I suppose it’s up to the moon to decide.” 
Some of the levity leaves him. “Wait, so if some other guy said he was drawn to you by the waxing moon, you’d consider it?” 
You let your head weigh heavily on his shoulder, pursing your lips slightly in contemplation. “I suppose I’d at least hear him out. It’s powerful magic during this time, you know? I’d at least be curious what drew him. Or them, you never know.” 
Now James is the one who’s frowning. “That’s not very reassuring, sweetheart.” 
You seem to come back to yourself, eyes focussing on his again and a small smile returning to your lips. “Don’t worry, Jamie.” You lean up to kiss him before slipping free of his hold, going to find another pair of jeans to dig through. “I’d obviously wait until the clarity of the full moon to decide on anything.” 
“Obviously,” James echoes, feeling somewhat dazed as he stands. “Um, angel? If you meet someone who tells you the moon sent them to you, would you at least let me know? I think if I tell Sirius about it, you may find they don’t stick around until the full moon anyway.” 
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vagabond-umlaut · 2 months
Text
beckoning you, slowly, subtly
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Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Absence makes the heart yearn stronger.
Or: Gojo grapples with himself in the wake of you preparing to leave Tokyo Jujutsu High– in the wake of you preparing to leave him.
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▸ Gojo x Fem!Reader; Former Teacher x Former Student; Reader has graduated from high school and is moving overseas for college; Gojo is 24-ish while Reader is 18; He's such a sad pathetic boi here; You think Reader is better? She's worse; Angst and Fluff; Use of humor as a coping mechanism [until it fails]; Very soft character study
▸ I wrote this as a prequel set minimum 10 years before the fic 'ensnared' -> You need not read that to read this, though. This is a standalone fic, through and through! 😊
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Gojo feels nothing towards you.
No, he doesn't. He really, truly bears no feelings, whatsoever their nature might be, for you.
But... if it indeed is so... then why the hell are his knuckles so hesitant to strike the wood of your door, eh?
Gojo stays in this position for a beat or two more, before dropping his fist back to his side. Exhaling a mute yet deep sigh as his gaze travels over the tiny flowers and trees painted on the door. Next moves to the shoe rack beside, filled with neat rows of sneakers and flats. And finally reaches the cheery yellow paper taped to the door, your name written on it in smooth letters–
Before he can even realise it, the sorcerer finds his fingers over it, so wary yet wanting as they traverse the lines and the loops of the letters, eliciting a very soft murmur of the same from within, the latter darting past a dry throat and a heavy tongue...
"Sensei!"
The door suddenly springs open. Of course, with no one but you behind it.
Were here anyone else except him, Gojo is certain, they would have jumped feet in the air in response. Good thing, he isn't just some 'anyone else'. The sorcerer quickly withdraws his outstretched hand to stuff it into his pocket. And grins, the way he always does when caught in contemplation.
Big. Bright. Happy. So much so that it will either puzzle, or better yet, piss the other person off, eventually making them leave him to his devices...
"Heyyy," he drawls, decidedly making a show of his infamous breezy image— jarringly contrasting the manner his Six Eyes study your once decorated–now empty room, "Packing and everything's done, wow. Thought I might visit you one last time before you leave for..." Australia, but he chooses not to say it. Breezy image, remember?
Borrowing a beat to think– to make you think he's thinking, that is– the man resumes with a noisy chuckle, "Before you leave for wherever you're headed. When's your flight, by the way? Tonight or tomorrow morning?"
Whatever reply he might have been expecting from you, two shiny eyes and one o-shaped mouth certainly weren't on the list... You're pretty swift to erase them, however. Wiping your sweater paws over your face, you mimic his posture and grin back.
Cheeky, obviously, but much too strained than the ones you've given him so far... Your amused voice intrudes on his quiet scrutiny of you. "Why, Sensei? Missing me from this moment itself, eh?"
"Nah," he shoots back with a dismissive wave of his hand. Noting then ignoring the stinging twinge in the middle of his chest— no matter the fractional fall in your features; no matter anything, everything. "I'm literally waiting for when you'll walk out the school's torii gates— even more for when your plane will take off the tarmac and leave Japan! I was stuck teaching you for the better part of the past four years. What makes you think I'll miss you, heh. I'll be incredibly relieved, if anything."
"Ah," you say, following a moment's pause, "I see."
Quite an unenthusiastic reaction, if he's being honest; Gojo doesn't mind it, though. Not in the slightest.
Not even when he watches you regard him, oddly intense and pensive for a while, before you return to clearing your desk. So neat and tidy and dead with no books nor pens nor stray sketches strewn over its surface. The same way the rest of the room now seems: dreadfully dreary and dull, now that you– you with your bubbly self, shining in this damned dark school, jujutsu world– is moving away–
Oh.
Oh no.
You're moving away.
Which is... okay. Yeah, it's okay. But, but, but– "When will you come back?" The question escapes the confines of his mind into the stillness of your room, soon joined by another– one he bites his tongue and draws blood for, the second it leaves his mouth.
The tiny quaver in the words betraying the steady front he has put on very well– Until now. Until you— Too bad [or maybe, good] you've always read him rather well– so much so that you whirl round the instant the sentence flies into the foot in between, your crumpled features meeting his crumbling mask.
"You will come back, right?"
"I–" you start, eyes brimming with the same tears you wiped away so insistently then; he never hears you finish your answer, however.
Two tiny hands fling themselves round his neck, and before he can realise it, the sorcerer finds himself bent at the waist, nose nudging your temple while your face nuzzles into the crook of his neck, the collar of his jacket growing progressively wet with every passing second.
The man stops himself from returning your embrace— You were his student. He was your mentor. Your door is open. His Six Eyes sense Shoko and Utahime coming this way. He isn't meant for such empty shows of sentiment. He isn't sure if your gesture is as unfeeling as he hopes it is—
Screwing his eyes shut, he sighs. Yet offers no resistance when he feels your fingers unclasp from his shoulders then move to his hands, lifting them to keep them lightly on the small of your back.
Oh, well, whatever.
Gojo is still certain he feels nothing towards you.
Except, maybe, this steely resolve of his, engraving itself a cliff-like niche in his mind: To protect. To cherish this sweet feeling of you both in each other's grasp.
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▸ Divider by @hitobaby. Header from Pinterest. I don't own the characters used here.
▸ masterlist
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