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digifandom · 8 months

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Okay this might be a hot take but, I don't think the Crest of Sincerity shouldn't exist. I like the dub crest of reliability for Joe and the sub crest of purity for Mimi. At least to me they seem to fit the characters better. Like compare the meanings and-

Joe/Jyou

Let's use the whole situation with Takeru and his Mom. With the Crest of Sincerity the meaning of that scene is that he keeps his promise to protect Takeru to Ms. Takashi, therfore showing he is sincere in his promise. (Which is great, it does read) Yet when you watch it in the context of the Crest of Reliability then the scene isn't just a promise being fulfilled (simplifying ofc). Joe's character gimic is literally being a constantly anxious person (again simplifying) so the scene has more impact (imo) to Joe as a character due to it showing that nature of "this person that I care for is in trouble, I have to help him" and therefore showing that someone who has a lot of anxiety/fears is still a reliable person. Someone who despite of himself will still do everything he can when it comes down to it, to me that has a bigger impact. Feel free to give your own opinions I'm also open to different interpretations.

There is a counter arguement to be made with the example of Joe and Yamato fighting together at the restaurant and that episode showing how "sincere" Jyou is by telling Yamato the whole truth of him not messing up on purpose, but 1 that episode is supposed to showcase Yamato's trait of friendship more so than Jyou's trait of sincerity (don't get me wrong it does do both but still), and 2 that episode read with the Crest of Reliability still reads really well, especially as a set up for who Jyou is. The episode shows things going wrong time and time again, Joe messing up (even tho it's not his fault) it shows that side of him that counter acts his giving trait of reliability but still shows the effort he puts into be reliable and once again shows his resolve to do everything he can for those he cares for via being squished by veggiemon for Yamato. The episode shows peaks of him being reliable while still keeping the trait buried in other things as it's not his and Gomamon's time.

Mimi

For our pink loving queen let's use the episode of her princess Era (ya know the one where she needs to sing but Taichi has to slap some sense into her before she does). It makes sense that this scene reads better, or more deep, with the perspective of Purity rather than Sincerity (the og is showcasing Purity afterall) In the Dub the Crest of Sincerity is used as Mimi (just as in the Joe sub) keeping true to her promise, and it admittedly (again imo) works much better than Joe keeping his promise. It works better only due to the build up of Mimi not aligning with her trait, but the Purity (imo) is still better. The Purity crest in this scene is used to represent that Mimi is a caring person that wishes the best for others but also incredibly (albeit unintentionally) selfish. Mimi is a character who wants to be treated like royalty and she can be very unaware of what her actions bring to others or that they are morally wrong in any slight way, but it makes sense for her character as she is like 10 and when she does realize the harmfulnes of her own actions she stops and tries to be better. Purity in this sense is a trait of betterment, Purity is NOT supposed to represent Mimi as a character with an unwavering moral compass that's perfectly aligned to good, instead it's meant to showcase her trait of Purity is the sense that she has a heavily wavering moral compass, one that leads her to make bad decisions at times but she then improves herself from her mistakes. Purity is (self)betterment rather than perfectly clear/good.

Counter argument: Mimi saving the people when she first get palesmon to digivolve into lillymon. It's easy to say this doesn't showcase either, or that it showcases her sincere want save people, or that it shows how pure she is by wanting to save everyone (especially her parents). So let me just justify my interpretation of the Crest of Purity representing betterment rather than being pure of heart (aka my explanation that's not the 3rd option I just gave). To keep this short, this scene is pay off of past (self)betterment and the gateway to more (self)betterment. The payoff comes from Mimi holding her ground rather than just encouraging everyone to run and get out, it's her acting (something that she's grown to do). The gateway of this scene is the fact that she is still doing this still protecting these people because of her family, she still hesitates to fight (until the very end of the series she hesitates to fight) but everytime she gets better she reacts faster she gains more confidence to do what she has come to believe is right, protecting others.

Iori/Cody

Okay I won't go into as much detail with Yolei/Miyako and Iori/Cody. But Cody is a bit difficult to really define but I still wanna say the Crest of Reliability fits him best. When Cody has to lie when he gets his digitama and is choosen to be Joe susesor it's easy to see how it's supposed to represent the in-between of the Crest of Sincerity, how it's okay to lie if necessary and that you can still be an honest (sincere) person. But read it withthe Crest of Reliability and that message is still there but another layer get added to it, Iori at that moment is doing what he can to save his friends and he pulls through despite his own hesitations it shows that responsibility within in that also helps his character as someone who always does what their told by their elders, he was taught to be honest and goes against those teachings for those he cares for. To me that developed who Iori is as a character a lot more.

Miyako/Yolei

I feel as if the execution of both crest was well down with her, to the point that if it weren't for her being the successor of Mimi I would probably be more on the Sincerity Crest side. The episode that stands out to me is surprisingly not when she gets her digitama of Sincerity/Purity it's when she gets dragged with Ken and Hikari to the dark ocean. Specifically when she slaps Hikari, that slap and the speech she gives to Hikari read so well with the Crest of Sincerity in mind, Yolei is being honest with Hikari, she's talking about her feelings she's unbashfully being herself and admitting what she wishes for, admits her jealous of Hikari. She's sincere and in ture she brings out Hikari's genuine emotions. I think this is the best use of the Crest of Sincerity and that the scene doesn't read as good when read with the trait of Purity in mind. It still reads well which is why I still think Yolei should have the Crest of Purity because it reads well with either and therefore dependent on what work for Mimi (as again she's suppose to be Mimi's successor) But just bc I like Sincerity better in this case doesn't mean I won't give my arguement for Purity.

The Crest of Purity in this same scene is weaker (imo) but it does still work, my point with Mimi is that Purity is suppose to represent (self)betterment and this scene can be argued to show that. The first step at fixing a problem is acknowledging it, this scene is Miyako out right admitting to everything that she sees wrong with herself and wants to change, it's her not necessarily asking for help from Hikari but telling Hikari "Hey I wish I wasn't as stubborn as I am and knew how to listen to others like you do" and in response Hikari points out that their is a good side to Yolei not being able to do that. This scene in this context is about (self)betterment but specifically the steps to it such as accepting the problem and understanding the positives that should stay but the negatives that do need work.

Now some of the scenes I talked about weren't scenes the characters crest were a big deal in. So ...

Why Think about the Crest in a situation that the character isn't actively using it?

The Crest that the digidestined have are meant to represent a trait they have (an arguable exception is made with Hikari's Crest of Light and Daisuke's Crest of Miracles but I have theories on that for another time) meaning in every scene you should be able to see the trait in each character or the character struggling with their trait. It shouldn't matter when if it's a trait that their suppose to represent at all times,

Taichi being scared because Courage is overcoming fear

Yamato pushing people away because he struggles with receiving the friendship of others (but giving it as much)

Mimi being selfish because it's something she needs to better

Takeru putting on a brave face because even if he doesn't have hope he refuses to let those around him lose hope

Sora holding someone back because she loves the so much and doesn't want them to be hurt

The whole point of the digidestined's crest is that they have these traits so deeply ingrained in their actions, yes their human and don't always adbid by them but even that is still present in their actions.

Lol sorry for the rant, feel free to drop your own opinions, at the end of the day it's just personal preference and interpretation, pls reblog so others can vote!

#digimon #digimon adventure #digimon adventure 02 #mimi tachikawa #jyou kido #joe kido #iori hida #cody hida #yolei inoue #miyako inoue #sincerity #crest of sincerity #reliability #crest of reliability #purity #crest of purity #digimon polls #digidestined polls

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yaoifan20forgoodgirl28 · 4 months

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#yaoifan20forgoodgirl28 #digimon adventure #crest of sincerity #green crest #gif

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csolarstorm · 4 months

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From Winterwish on Etsy! Go check then out!

This is amazing. I have always wanted a realistic Crest and Tag! The Crest fits into the Tag with a little magnet. There's enough wiggle room to press the corner down and take out the Crest again.

Thw whole thing is metal and has some good weight to it, but not too much to wear. The inside of the Crest might be epoxy? The symbol is carved inside, which makes it look really authentic, but also hard to see from some angles. I had to use the flash on the camera to make it show more in photos.

It's really weird to buy "The Crest of Sincerity" online. I don't expect to find it in a giant cactus flower, but it feels a bit...normal!

#Digimon #Crest of Sincerity #Digimon Adventure

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thedisabledfemme · 2 years

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Had no idea what design to use, so just went with Michi. Literally never used acrylic paint as you can see.

My voice is power 🎶🎵🎼🎤

Maraca artisanal, maracas de higuera.

#digimon michi #taichi x mimi #Mimi x taichi #taichixmimi #Digimon crest #crest of courage #crest of purity #crest of sincerity #mimi tachikawa #Taichi yagami #digimon adventure #higuera #maracas #artisinal #percussion #bomba #puerto rico

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breadbirdmp4 · 2 months

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thanks to @seventeenlovesthree ive gain more of an understanding into dynamics in the og digimon cast that i really appreciate.

however, i am on an ensemble stars deep dive so its also really interesting. especially concerning natsuki hanae’s voice acting in it.

for taichi, he usually uses a deeper part of his regular speaking voice. singing voice is similar, in retrospect. it starts on A3.

for hiyori, he definitely puts on airs. like, once your familiar of what changes. it puts things in perspective. its slightly nasalier. the deepest note he sings is in Faith Conquest, which is F3. this song is also known for its high note which is E5.

lyric wise though, their character songs are interesting. in the case that I believe that it could be swapped and it would fit. hiyori literally means weather and he uses it as a pun.

fantastic days would follow the pattern from the previous character songs.

for their friendships, the long lasting relationships happened when they were younger. both around the age of 11. taichi with the 99 digidestined and hiyori with nagisa.

theyre both characters that are symbolized by the sun. and that turns complicated as they get older.

in the most important situations, as of tri-onwards taichi is known to overthink and hesitate to act. in saga, hiyori overthinks and in turn doesnt warn jun about whats going to happen in the event.

yknow i would have a lot more data but tri and kizuna are trauma piles. and i would have to make the full on character analysis posts on my other account to make a difference and include more.

#digimon adventure #taichi yagami #hiyori tomoe #enstars #natsuki hanae #voice acting #yes im a hiyoriP but in the case of im studying him in a jar #also i tend to favor sunshine x overworker relationships #so ibahiyo and taishiro #hiyori would have the crest of purity/sincerity tho lmao #hes still blunt about his feelings around many things #interestingly #taichi is an older brother and hiyori is a younger brother #if they met at a fancy upper class dinner once taichi is established as an embassador? thats a big can of beans that can be explored

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black-daisy7 · 9 months

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The idea of this is that "what if the energies of Digimon of original Tamers & the Crests became helpful guides to the second group?"

So this is the embodiment of Agumon,Tai, & the pure essence of what the crest of Courage means.

the embodiment of Gabumon, Matt & the pure essence of what the crest of Friendship means.

the embodiment of Biyomon, Sora & the pure essence of what the crest of Love means.

the embodiment of Tentomon, Izzy & & the pure essence of what the crest of Knowledge means.

the embodiment of Palmon, Mimi & the pure essence of what the crest of Sincerity means.

the embodiment of Gomamon, Joe & the pure essence of what the crest of Reliability means.

the embodiment of Patamon, TK & the pure essence of what the crest of Hope means.

the embodiment of Gatomon, Kairi & the pure essence of what the crest of Light means.

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littlestpersimmon · 28 days

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Heya guys. Sorry for posting this for the billionth time. But maybe if you guys would like to give my posts about patreon a boost it would mean the world to me. I know I post this a lot and I don't take any help I receive for granted. I've only been able to make two new drawings since February. Bc every day I have been working almost 9 hours. I'm sick nearly every other week, my lymph nodes are swollen n I've been feeling incredibly depressed. I am from the global south, in the philippines, government help is near nonexistent. I am the sole caretaker of three disabled people. My mom can not do any housework, she is a full time wheelchair user, she needs care 24/7, insulin, adult diapers and kidneys that are under threat of failing if we don't watch her health, my dad has a chronic heart condition and my sister is autistic with a very low frustration threshold. Both my parents are diabetic, and I am the only person in my family who can work. I currently have three jobs, one in publishing, but I have a morality clause which means the publishing house can take back every single penny I make if I or the author fail to meet certain expectations. Anyway.. I have been working nonstop, my scoliosis is untreated and extremely painful, n for the past few four days I have been rationing a single can of spam and a few potatoes. Would mean the world to me if you guys could pick up a print, or subscribe to my patreon, or reblog any of my old art or send me a tip on ko-fi or anywhere else. Sorry and thank you again. I remake these a lot, but I sincerely don't take any of the help I receive for granted. Thank you again.

My inprnt

My patreon

https://www.patreon.com/littlestpersimmon

My tipping jars

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shoptshirt01 · 1 year

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Transitional weather means {title} the. In addition,I will do this return of a staple we’ve always loved: Perfect trench. This season, we’ve found plenty of

#Crest Of Sincerity Togemon Mimi Digimon Shirt

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lundenloves · 4 months

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“ 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 ” ¹

≔ in which simon’s son enlists behind his back. ceramics are smashed, threats are thrown and feelings are hurt behind nonchalant expressions.

⤷ *return of the mac in the background* i wasn’t really sure which route to go down with this so i just blind wrote it. if you don’t agree with any of the following actions or words, keep it to yourself because i really do not care. it’s been a long hibernation, troops.

∷ warnings of abusive dynamics if you squint but mainly just unnerving silence and abrupt shouting | 2.3k

masterlist | dad!simon masterlist | taglist | request info

Eight thirty.

Three hours into Simon’s habitually quiet morning routine with the rising sun pouring keenly through the kitchen window, and sparrows chirping a little too loud — the mail had slid through the door.

A modest fall of envelopes, taking each one with a crease between his brows after sifting through them, eyes glossing over each addressee while walking to the kitchen table with the stack. He liked it this way. He liked the known, finding a specific comfort in knowing that the mail would come on the same dot every, single, day.

Not that there was ever anything special. Only the usual, clubcard points, screwfix leaflets, disgusting bank statements and various military envelopes on his current pension plan. Christ.

He sat down, pulling a lip upward to disregard more than half of his own mail, tossing it to the counter behind him for the bin. “What a load of shit.” Came a grumble, kissing his teeth at the mere £3.40 discount he had received for spending over £300 in Tesco.

Though the pending sigh was lost for a singular stand out letter. One he seemed to still over, chest dipping in regret. Regret for nothing in particular, only a sinking feeling for the familiar Be The Best motto cast upon the right side of one envelope — different to his Who Dares Wins slogan. The envelope wasn’t for him.

The birds hadn’t paused their songs, an ambient morning now fuelling a slow anger. An inter boiling one, but for now simmering with long breaths. In and out. His shoulders broke inward with large palms leant on the counter, craning his neck side to side to release placebo tension.

The letter mocked him. A bit of paper that had permanently strained something, “Fucking hell, son.” He picked it up, flipping it backward to frontward as if the writing would change. As if his son's name would disappear from under the window of the envelope. Though it didn’t, and the paper was slid to the depth of the counter, prompting Simon to rub at his bottom lip.

It took three minutes of silence before he was being followed downstairs by his son. Few words exchanged, and surprisingly fewer questions. They both knew, and tension had already built, bringing Simon’s anger to a heavier simmer. The prior efforts of calmness were obliterated at the sight of the kitchen once more, the pad of his foot tapping against the vinyl flooring.

“What the fuck is this?” The letter was slid across the counter, branded and bred in the British military with the familiar crest proud in the top right. It looked sinful, like something exposing, illegal even. The boy's stare was one of tiredness, palms flat on the kitchen counter to stare down at the envelope on the oak.

Fatigue hadn’t quite left his eyes, squinted in the bright dawn. “What’s what?”

Though his words were met with silence and the birds chirping outside seemed wrong. The moment had forced a thicker, uglier tension into the room, and his son rounded the counter to pick up the letter. Brash and pasted, once again, in military branding.

His eyes fell to his father.

A picture of disappointment, veiled with frustration through a glare, one so strong it almost felt off-putting. Stress seemed evident via the way his hand had pushed toward the back of his neck, running upward and down the front of his face.

“What is it?” The same question, though this time quiet and sincere. His eyes had regrettably softened for all of two seconds before a leg had begun bouncing in compromise after taking a seat in pre-ceasefire.

“Nothing.” A teenage mumble.

Simon laughed dryly, shaking his head with a palm flat on the counter. “This.” He raised his hand, now only the tips of his fingers on the letter. “This isn’t nothing.” Eyes catching his mirror image, a lanky eighteen year old with next to no muscle. It was devastating, really.

“It’s just mail.”

“Open it.” A stern command, standing up and boring his eyes further into the boy before him. His height and build was much more significant, effectively towering over the six foot kid with all of his broadness.

“It’s none of your business, like.” The croaked words of a voice just woken were ones Simon raised brows at.

“Anything with that crest is my business.”

The similarities between his younger self and the boy before him was something Simon internally hated. He hated that his son had genetically taken not only his originally scrawny, defenceless build but also his raging attitude and temper issues. Dark eyes and accompanying circles, a rare smile and sigh of laughter.

Though not one bone had been broken in his body, his nose wasn’t squinted from various punches and his skin hadn’t been plagued by scars of battle. Something Simon could always draw a line between, though, he no longer held that power.

The kid begrudgingly opened the letter, hunching shoulders inward as if to shield it from his father. A congratulatory letter, one addressed to his name in bold letters with an offer to train at the military academy for a reserved cadetship upon completion.

The silence was loud.

Simon knew what it was before it had been opened. His fingers pinched at the bridge of his nose, and rubbed at his temples. “Fucking hell mate.” A deep breath was taken, chest puffing out with the inhale. “Fuck sake.”

His son felt like a child again, small and inwardly anxious for his fathers reaction. Not that Simon was ever violent, not ever, but he was a different kind of frightening. Silent. He gave you the option to take whatever you’d wanted from his step back, though fiery eyes only pushed you down one slope. Anxiety and paired overthinking, it came as part and parcel of the Riley name.

“I was goin’t tell you.”

Another laugh escaped Simon, “At what point?” The side of his lip curved upward, though there was no real amusement. “Look at me.”

There was a scoff from his son in response, shaking his head with eyes locking back to the letter. Ink printed in gratification. “Nothin’ to do with you though is it?” The second part came as a mumble for the internal struggle to hold back aggression. Though it slipped through, naturally.

“What did I say? Fuckin’ hell.” Simon growled, taking the envelope from the boy and skim-reading it. “Right.” He cleared his throat. “The fifth, next month, yeah?” Eyes flicking to his son who had shrugged, slinking off behind Simon to look through cupboards in evident dismissal.

“Dunno–”

“You’re out.”

They had spoken in unison, each person cancelling the other out to create a bout of eye contact. “What?” The quirk in his lip was a giveaway of building frustration, eyes cast directly across his father who stood just taller than him. “I’m out?”

“You’re out the house.” Simon slid the letter across the counter in finality, “As soon as you leave for that camp. You’re gone.”

“What the fuck.”

“Big enough to enlist?” His tone was venomous, something his son was unable to contest. “Big enough to fucking leave.” The letter had been picked up by the kid, eyes skimming it over, eyes darting across the page while familiar anger had slowly built.

“Fuck off.” He mumbled, brows pulled together in a foul mix of annoyance and evident upset over his fathers’ dismissal. “Any other dad would be proud of that.” The letter dropped to his abdomen, two shaky hands still clutching to the torn envelope. “Not you though, yeah, not fuckin’ you. ‘Course not.”

There was a pause before a crash.

A split decision of anger, one Simon mirrored at that age. A raging feeling of internal emotion that was only alleviated in bursts of aggression and breakage - punching holes in doors or smashing dishware. There was never a safe space to feel, therefore it came out unwillingly.

For his son, it was a failing on his behalf as a father. That space was never created for lack of recovery had never allowed real estate.

Multiple ceramics flown off the counter with one hand swoop, “Such a cunt.” His chest heaved and Simon’s eyes bore into his. Solemnity follows each and every moment with an unnerving silence, though it wasn’t continued when aggravated palms had landed on his chest, a teenage attempt to express.

“Don’t.” A bark, complete with snarling and a metaphorical showing of canines. A hand caught the boy's forearm, an admittedly tighter than required grip. “Don’t you fucking dare.” And for a moment, he feared he sounded like his father.

Though he did dare.

A rebellion as it was.

Again, a heavy palm had landed on his fathers’ chest - uncaught and if any stronger than the age of eighteen would’ve at least budged Simon. And, god, did he sound like his father with the promise of violence, a grip on his son’s shirt to hold him against the wall at the action alone.

A huff of air fell through his nose, head tilted, “If you enlist and you have this attitude,” The words were spoken through gritted teeth, eyes fixed to the wall he held the boy against to speak just above his ear. “They’ll send you right fucking back.” Though his son no longer recognised dad. This was someone else, someone he was never to meet. “Show some fucking respect.” A tone orchestrated of octaves reserved for Ghost.

You had come down with the crash of ceramics, fully aware that Simon was in knowing of your presence by the way his grip had rid, stepping back with hands to his head. “What the fuck is going on?” You scowled at your husband who was already lighting a cigarette.

After a short inhale, “He’s enlisting.” The smoke tumbled from his lip that turned upward to accommodate a low but amused chuckle. “He’s enlisting, lovie. Our boy.” The cigarette was then pointed to the teenager. “He’s enlisting so he can run around with a fucking rifle, kill one or two people because it's what? It’s a laugh is it? A fucking game?” Though the words were intensely directed to you, waving the smoke around before taking another inhale and shaking his head.

“It’s not that serious, fucking-”

The words were cut off by a harsh slap of the counter and a rumble of a scold. “Not that serious?” It could only have woken the whole house and Simon ditched the cigarette to lift his shirt up, various scars and burn marks stretched across his front and back. “What's this? Eh?”

“Calm down.” You warned, or at least attempted to.

“Calm down? He’s going to get himself fucking killed.” A bite, one without intention of ceasing.

“You’re not dead.” The kid provided.

“I died years ago, son.” His eyes were naturally narrowed in their frustration, slow on the look-up, and shoulders tense through chest heaving. Up and down, and up and down.

The kid mirrored his fathers’ lost expressions.

“Right.” You then interrupted, placing delicate hands on the shoulders of your boy to steer him out of the room, letter still in his hands.

“Coddle him. Tell him he’ll be fine,” The smoke from the cigarette danced around his hand, lifted back upward for a long, slow inhale, eyes burnt to your back. “That the world is a safe place and he won’t get hurt.” His voice had lowered.

But there was a mutual understanding of the lie, that nothing was fine and he wasn’t going to come out unscathed. Mentally, if not physically.

It had bled into an argument between the two of you after, pointed fingers of accusation and bursts of tears had split from your eyes. His frustration turned into ready anger, then dismissal, refusing to believe the reality.

“What’s your fucking issue?” Was the question you had barked once downstairs, four words that seemed obvious in their asking though Simon still quirked a brow. “There’s no need. No fucking need at all for that.”

He shook his head, looking down at you over his cigarette while you swept up smashed ceramics. “Don’t act like you don’t know.” His voice low, cigarette mumbling the words with an inhale.

You dropped arms to your sides, pointedly tapping the foot of the brush against the floor. “Like I don’t know what?” The accompanied scowl was one Simon’s eyes darted back and forth from, looking away out the window before tipping his cigarette. “It’s something he wants.”

“He’s going to get himself killed.”

“Ever the fucking pessimist.”

“Once he leaves,” The cigarette was acting as punctuation, pointed toward the door in far gesture. “He’s out.” Tone unnervingly quiet. One that warned any other argument off, though not yours.

“Do me a favour, yeah?” You continued to sweep the ceramics. “Realise this isn’t about you.” Looking up at the way he had shifted in his stance, arm now crossed over his chest to tuck under his opposing armpit.

“Fuck—“ He laughed. “It’s not about me.”

“You just kick off immediately.”

“Hardly.”

“The fucking state of the floor, Simon.” You scorned, raising your voice to take his attention from the mindless cigarette smoking. “He’s your son. Treat him like it.”

“When he learns respect-”

“He doesn’t respect you for that fucking attitude. It’s a battle, let it go.”

His eyes met yours to stand down, ditching the cigarette before nodding absently. His silence was telling of an awful mood, one he would carry for the next few days if uninterrupted.

Tension grew thicker than a rope knot dramatically fast in the Riley household, and whether granted or not, there was only the one man to blame. Walking on eggshells whenever he would come home from a bad deployment was only fit to last so long, and you couldn’t change him.

But he didn’t want to change himself either.

≔ unedited, and the tags probably won’t work. this is all i got and i’ll slam my fist on an ikea desk, this. is. all. i. got.

simon 'ghost' riley taglist: @vamppxncess @crowbird @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkbbyx3 @gressseyy @shibble @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @hotgirlsshareaccounts @simpxinnie @cliosunshine @bloobewy @lazybutsmexy @iluvoaldmen @yyiikes @tieflingteatime @cosmoscoffee @lilvampirina @cinnabeanz @spencerreidisbae123 @paperbag-prncss @cookiecutta @sluttyforsimon @loveangelic @friendly-neighborhood-lich-queen @hayleybarnesx

@bunthebunny23

song of the day (time of writing)

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod mwii #cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw fanfiction #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw3 #cod mwiii #call of duty #ghost call of duty #Spotify

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koushirouizumi · 2 years

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{DigiAdv 02 Ep. 38} (J.P.N Version) ~ Koushiro[u] & 02 Chosen {as Friendly}/{Supportive}/{Helpful} ~ Koushiro & Jou / Moments & Interactions

+ Jou {physically} supporting Koushiro’s laptop & Efforts

{Fade effects on clips added by me} (Trimmed for Time)

{Clipped by Me} {DO NOT re-post} {DO NOT remove caption} (Please ASK to Use) [Disclaimer: I Do Not own DigiAdvs]

#izumi koushirou #izumi koushiro #kido jou #joushiro #koushiro and jou #joushiro friendship #joushiro moments #02 joushiro #02 koushiro #02 jou #side otp: knowledge and trust #koushirouizumi clips #koushirouizumi 02 clips #koushirouizumi advs clips #koushirouizumi 02 koushiro clips #(Just to mention but yeah Jous Crest name)#(can be translated in various ways)#(its why its ended up as 'Sincerity' or even 'Faith')#('Faith' has been used in TCG)#(on the Eng end)#(just to say Eng fans didnt come up with it from nowhere)#(However I interpret Jous Crest a little differently)#(Ive been researching etymology things too)#(esp where .H ebrews relation to it is concerned)#(to me it doesnt sit well when people try to force a translation on me if theres other alternatives that are equally as valid)#(I consider things from a J E W I S H mindset)#(and I should be allowed to)#(and yeah but 'Faith' I have various conflicting Feels on because I KNOW others dont interpret it the same way I . do)#('Sincerity' too can leave a lot of others questioning & like I Get Where It Comes from)#(but I do think there can be multiple interpretations and anyhow its just a ship tag I'm using for them so don't @ Me Thx)

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inkykeiji · 2 months

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character: rafayel warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, fem!reader, rough sex, hair pulling, marking words: 622

everything rafayel does is art—from the way he moves through the world, graceful as a sea breeze or reckless as a white cap wave, to the way he speaks, words flowing from his lips in a seamless drawl, sharp with snark or soft with sincerity, to the way he fucks, spontaneous yet scrupulous.

doggy is his favourite, with one of his feet planted firmly on the bed and your knees spread wide and low, delicate little quivers rippling the muscles of your inner thighs as they strain beneath the stretch. he keeps one of his palms curled around the crown of your head, using it as leverage as he shoves your face further and further into the pillow, hips snapping with unparalleled ruthlessness. it’s so cute, he’s telling you, the way your moans and cries are still so loud, even when they’re being soaked up and devoured by the mattress. it’s absolutely adorable, actually—pathetically precious, he’s sure—and he savours it for a little before he, predictably, gets bored.

the palm crushed to the back of your head isn’t just for leverage, though. oh no, it has another purpose, a very important purpose, rafayel’s nails carving deep crescents in your scalp, scraping against your skin and leaving behind raw, ragged gouges as his knuckles curl, tangling slender fingers in your strands. giving a precursory tug, he makes sure his hand is rooted deeply enough, stable and secure before he gives a true yank, pulling you up in one swift, sharp motion.

for a moment, he allows himself to admire the pretty little masterpieces you leave staining his sheets: shimmering webs of drool, viscous cords stretched in abstract patterns across egyptian cotton; the smears your tears leave, drying all hard and crusty and full of salt that glitters almost daintily across the creases and crevices; your sweat, leaving almost a perfect imprint of your jaw and cheek etched so beautifully into the fabric.

but the yelp he always, without fail, tears from your chest is one of his favourite sounds in the entire world.

because while he loves the muffled little sounds—sometimes can feel them shivering through the mattress when he stills his hips and grinds cock into your cervix, when everything is still for just a single moment before your body shudders from the pain—he loves the unhindered ones even more.

because they’re so pretty, they’re so precious, sweet little fragments he fucks from your chest and your throat, that splinter on your tongue or drip, like sugary syrup, from your lips, sloppy and melted in the heat of your mouth after you’ve gone dumb from his cock. it’s the most beautiful symphony he’s ever heard, and together the pieces form a mosaic of music, something he swears he can almost see glimmering in the air just before he crests, something that builds and grows and finally crescendos just as your cunt clenches and spasms and gushes all over him.

rafayel fucks roughly; like he owns you, like he’s creating you, like he’s trying to consume you and spit you back out, his newest masterpiece.

rafayel shatters you, melts the pieces in the blaze of his ardor until they’re nothing but pliable clay in his skilled palms, and recreates you from scratch, his way.

rafayel splatters art across your body every single time he fucks you—swirling little galaxies that bloom in violets and navy beneath his tongue and touch; deep craters in the shape of his teeth sketched and sculpted into the flesh of your neck and your thighs and your ass; brilliant strokes of crimson and glazes of saliva and smatters of ivory, smudged along all your curves and edges—always impermanent, always ever-changing, always there.

#rafayel x you #rafayel smut #rafayel x reader #rafayel x y/n #rafayel headcanons #rafayel love and deepspace #love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace x reader #this was meant to be an answer to an ask about the three of them but i have no desire to finish answering the ask LMAO #but i liked how raf's turned out so!!! here #inky.rafayel

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toasteaa · 3 months

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Hmm,,,

Wriothesley kisses you like you're fragile. Delicate. He'd long thought feelings of love, safety, and trust as fleeting. Long ascribed to the thought that as long as he was useful, as long as he could perform his duties, that these conditional sentiments would pitter in like rare rewards. And where rewards come, so too do expectations and bartering. It's expected. He knows nothing is given freely in the Fortress of Meropide. And yet - Another kiss. Softly, gently; as though he wants to memorize the shape of your lips, the taste of your tongue, the cresting sighs and gentle, lilting lulls of his name he pulls from you with each kiss. A teasing nip to remind you of what comes later. A stark yet gentle reminder to himself that you're safe. That you're his safety. You give yourself to him freely. Unconditionally. You return every kiss with sincerity, meet each of his desires with utterances of love (or what he hopes, oh Archons, with what he hopes is love), and he's lost. Gone adrift in a sea of reverence and gratefulness. To you, always to you. And even when those gentle kisses turn to teasing bites, when murmured declarations he can't fully bring himself to believe become clothes strewn across his room, he knows. You're neither fragile nor delicate; but he'll be damned before he breaks you like he breaks everything else.

#toast talks #genshin impacted #genshin x reader #wriothesley x reader #The Neuvillette one is still brewing in my brain but I wanted to at least get Wriothesley out of my brain today #I would like one kissie kiss pls

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delirious-donna · 5 days

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Morning Epiphany [Higuruma Hiromi]

an: cockwarming with Hiromi was suggested to me when I opened my requests/ideas for this wonderful man and I immediately leapt on it because YES!

pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x female reader

warnings: cockwarming, reader being the teeniest bit mean to poor Hiro, whining and whimpering from the lawyer…

Masterlist

“Hiro… it’s so early, why are you in here?”

The sun had barely begun to crest, the earliest rays warming the bedspread that was surprisingly empty. A hand reaching out to your husband’s side confirmed the first stirring of your consciousness, he wasn’t here, and if he wasn’t here then there were only two places he could be.

Despite the lure of sleep trying to coax you back into the cozy haze of dreams, you couldn’t possibly sleep when your other half was missing, and so early too. The blinking lights of the alarm clock signalled the hour and helped to push your feet to the rug by the bed, stretching and pouting.

The bathroom was empty, there was no remnant of steam from the scalding hot showers he took every morning and you scowled at your dishevelled reflection in the mirror. Your hair stuck up at odd angles, eyes puffy from how quickly you got out of bed and your sleepshirt—an old well-worn sweatshirt of Hiromi’s—was creased beyond belief.

Your steps took you towards the office and the scent of freshly brewed coffee that wafted enticingly into your nose. The door creaked on antique hinges, your missing man turning with his brow furrowed from having his concentration broken. The expression shifted into a smile almost immediately, a sheepish smile at that.

“Did I wake you? I didn’t mean to,” he apologised sincerely, settling back in his chair to stretch his arms up and over his head. The wide sleeves of his black t-shirt, now faded to grey at best, pushed back and your eyes dipped to the hint of black happy trail that peeked from beneath the hem with a sigh of appreciation.

Hiromi couldn’t help but chuckle. Hastily he fixed his face with a look of admonishment, one sleek eyebrow rising near to his hairline. “Eyes up here, Mrs Higuruma.”

“Sorry—wait. Why am I apologising? It’s the arse crack of dawn, what are you doing up let alone working?”

His eyes drooped, nervously fidgeting with the pen on his desk.

Before he could respond, you grabbed the back of his chair and scooted it out further from the desk to his confusion. The lines wrinkling his forehead smoothed out when your knee bracketed his hip, followed by the other until you sat straddling his lap. Your fingers ran through the limp strands of the hair hanging near into his eyes, humming at the glorious warmth of his body melding into yours.

“Epiphany moment?” Hiromi offered uncertainly. He was too preoccupied by the soft squish of your hips and backside, hands full of the meat of you, and desperately trying to will his cock not to harden any further. To his disappointment and your triumph, he was failing miserably.

You planted teasing kisses to his jawline, barely-there touches of your lips until you were decorating his throat and prominent Adam’s apple with wet little marks. “Don’t let me stop you, Hiro… you can pretend I’m not here. I’ll be as quiet as a mouse.”

He dropped his chin, staring at you with suspicious disbelief. Swallowing thickly when you offered your best most innocent looking smile, laying your cheek on his shoulders and drawing one of his hands away from where he was pawing at your rump. “Work, if that’s what you want to do.”

Hiromi groaned and looked skyward as if some answer would arrive if he begged for it hard enough. He knew this game well enough, and not once had he won. He didn’t fancy his odds on this particular day either.

It started out fairly uneventful. Hiromi managed to refocus his attention towards the computer screen and the ruling he had been in the middle of reading when you appeared, but soon enough the words no longer made sense. Your fingertips grazed his chest, delicate scrapes of your nails across the cotton hiding his nipples and it was maddeningly distracting.

Instead of calling it out, knowing it would only result in you doubling down your efforts, he exhaled through his nose and shifted in his seat to give some respite to the erection chafing the waistband of his pyjama trousers. Immediately, he knew it was the wrong move. Your pelvis sunk closer to him, rubbing more friction into his aching length and he swore he could smell your arousal hanging heavy in the air.

He did his best to ignore your naughty fingers moving between you, to pretend you weren’t pulling him free and playing in the mess of precum leaking from his tip. His fingers tightened around the mouse in his hand, the sound of plastic groaning from the onslaught of pressure enough to make him blink and loosen his hold.

“You will be the death of me, love.”

The loose fist around his shaft paused. “Keep working or I’ll go back to bed… alone.” You were slick with arousal, the lack of panties leaving a dark stain on the crotch of Hiromi’s pyjamas that didn’t go unnoticed by either of you. The temptation to lift to your knees and sink down onto his cock was building, but you couldn’t reward him so readily for his leaving you in bed this morning. Not until he was a little more desperate, and by the hue of the rash at his neck and dappling of his cheeks, there was still a little ways to go.

Hiromi was failing fast, and he knew you were waiting to pounce and worsen his predicament. Worsen was hardly the right term given how eager he was to be swallowed by your plush velvet-lined walls, but since you were insistent that he continue to work, he wasn’t going to be rewarded until he did. The pen scratched across the surface of his notepad, the ink drying in shaky lines whilst you cupped his balls and rolled them between your fingers and thumb. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure what he was writing made sense but if it gave the illusion of cooperation, he’d write utter gibberish all day long.

You held out as long as you could manage, the burning desire palpable on the dewy apples of your cheek and the heat of your breasts hidden beneath your husband’s sweatshirt. At long last you teased his pulsing cock between your folds, tapping the sticky cockhead against your pert little clit and finally lining him up at your entrance. The muscles contracted around him, that first inch a delicious stretch that pushed you to your limits not to slam right down to his fat balls and cry out from the bliss.

The descent was drawn out, testing your patience and resolve to the limits, as well as forcing stuttering breaths out of Hiromi’s heaving chest. You didn’t chastise the return of his hands, the adoration sweeping through his palms as they raised the hem of your sweatshirt so he could see himself disappearing into your pussy. He fisted the fabric, grasping at your hips with eyes heavy with lust and you simply had to taste him, even only for a moment.

Your lips crashed atop his, tongue licking over the seam of his bottom lip and pressing into his mouth to swallow the whine that crawled from his throat. It echoed inside your head, the urge to roll your hips over and over until he filled your belly with his seed burned like a white-hot flame. Your skin itched, fingers curled into claws that dove into Hiromi’s thick head of hair and you nearly didn’t break your kiss, nearly were consumed by the passion you felt in your heart.

“Hmmmpff.” Hiromi wailed when you finally came to some semblance of your senses, your pelvis flush against his but no longer moving. He stared at you in longing, watching whilst you swiped a finger over your kiss-swollen lips and sucked the remnants of his spit from the pad. The smile you offered was purely saccharine, and his throat itched with the need to bounce you on his cock until you gushed all over him and the chair.

“Please?” He asked on a whisper, aquiline nose nudging into your cheek.

“You have your epiphany moment to deal with mister lawyer, c’mon… you can last a little longer. Let me warm you and once I’m satisfied, I’ll ride you until your legs want to give out,” you purred, mouth at the shell of his ear and leaving a kiss at the bone just behind.

Silently, he begged and pleaded for mercy on his tainted soul, as if some divine intervention was likely to intercept, he knew that wouldn’t be the case. You were the only divine deity in his world and your determination to give him a taste of his own medicine for abandoning the sacred ritual of morning cuddles was written across your features.

A sweat broke out across his brow as he studied the lines of text on the screen without recognising a single word. A drip of arousal dribbled from the spot you united, dribbling over the seam of his balls to stain the leather seat beneath. You clenched, and he crushed the pen in his hand, palm filled with tiny plastic shards that speared his skin.

“Darling… light of my life—I will do anything, anything, if you’ll just ride me,” he whimpered, discarding the busted pen and grabbing up your hands to kiss earnestly across your fingertips then knuckles. Hiromi was barely restraining the buck of his hips, the warmth almost too much wrapped around his dick but without the friction and rhythm of movement… it wasn’t enough.

Your resolve was being tested once more. The subtle wobble of his lower lip and the sincere longing in his whisky-smoked eyes cracked the shell of your conviction. Easing forward in one languid roll of your hips earned you the most delightful and pitiful whimper you had heard in a long time. His head fell back against the headrest of his chair, eyes screwed shut whilst you felt him twitch within your walls. He might just cum like this if you didn’t do something, and actually, you wouldn’t mind that in the slightest.

Never more had you enjoyed cockwarming Hiromi than at this moment, and you vowed to draw it out as long as he could endure.

“Fuck, Hiro… you feel so good. So warm and snug,” you cooed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and nuzzling into him more. “Five more minutes…”

#delirious writes #higuruma hiromi #higuruma x reader #hiromi x reader #higuruma hiromi x reader #higuruma smut #hiromi smut #higuruma hiromi smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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