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#i have another i want to share but again i can only take pictures
xi-chan · 2 days
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omgggg the pet one you just posted is soooo cute can i request something with the same 3 and welt (if its not too much ♡) where their partner gets turned into a cat and keeps trying to be like 'hey its me!!' but it just sounds like needy cat meows hehe thank youuu stay well
Glad you liked it love !! and sure I can do that <3
Antennaria
sypnosis: you're a cat and your lover doesn't notice pairings: Ratio, Sunday, Gallagher, Welt x reader (Separate) A/N: mostly fluff and crack (again)
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RATIO
When the smoke disappeared, you found the members of the Intelligentsia Guild hovering over you, seeming like skyscrapers now- did you shrink? Did the world around you become massive? Did it have to do with the small explosion just now. Only after you noticed your clothes all around you, and a member taking a picture and showing it to you, did you realize-
you're a cat now.
And the other members thought it would be funny to tell your lover absolutely nothing.
Now you're sitting on the couch in your and Ratio's house after you gave up trying to get him to notice that it was you. You tried to get your favourite books that you loved to read from the shelves and placed your tiny paws on them, stole your favourite snacks from the kitchen, brought the clothes you wore on your and Veritas' first date to him- but he seemed to ignore all of these things! On top of that- he placed all of these items to a higher point where you couldn't reach them anymore! All you could do now, was to try and 'tell' him, that it was you.
In your mind, you spoke normally- in human words. For Veritas, however, it sounded like you were in pain by the uneven tones in your meows, and it drove him crazy. "Fine, Fine. What do you want?" he said, crossing his arms after putting away the book he read. After he spoke up, you stopped meowing and went over to him, placing both of your paws on his leg. He sighed as he petted you softly, "All cats are like this..." and, just like cats worked, you purred automatically, but you didn't mind, eventually laying down beside him with your head on his legs. "Do not get any of your fur on my clothes." you growled at his comment but didn't pay any mind to it, drifting to sleep once he petted you more.
The next day, you tried to do more things to get him to notice- sitting in your designated chair, nudging the flowers on a nearby table- even trying to use your paws to signal letters that he could read. But damn those cat elbows for making it impossible. After some hours you gave up again, wanting to wait it out till you turned back or the other members told your boyfriend.
Needless to say, Veritas was quite... disappointed at his fellow members of the Intelligentsia Guild for not telling him about your 'condition' once you turned back, saying they're a bunch of imbeciles for not documenting the effects for their experiments, and you were disappointed as well- at him, though, for not realizing sooner.
As it turned out, the effects of that smoke that you were engulfed in lasted 24 hours and since you weren't wearing any clothes, you were completely naked when you were a human again. To your luck, you were home with only Veritas present, but it was still an embarrassing experience.
SUNDAY
It was simply a dumb idea you had at the time. One of the rules in Penacony stated that Identity theft of another person was strictly forbidden, however, it didn't say anything about turning to animals and you've seen your share of dreamers turning into animals or objects, so you tried to do it yourself, but you quickly regret that decision once you weren't able to turn back to a human. Realizing your mistake, you quickly ran on all fours, which you needed to get used to at first, to Dewlight Pavilion, to inform your lover so he'll help you.
But it seemed futile as you meowed endlessly in front of Sunday's office door, trying to get him to open the door for you. Guards or even other members of The Family tried to get you away from the door, but you always hissed at them or accidentally scratched them- you made a mental note to apologize later when you turned back.
When he couldn't handle the sounds of you anymore, he groaned before opening the door and letting you in. "You are quite the handful, do you know that?" he said, grabbing you by your stomach and holding you in his arms. You meowed again, trying to tell Sunday that it was you, and not some stray cat- but he chuckled at your try and it was obvious he didn't understand.
You never thought Sunday was the type of man to take good care of animals- birds, yes, probably, but cats? Who usually hunt birds? that's a new. Nevertheless, you were spoiled rotten as a cat. He also had you rest on his desk while he worked and you were always by his side, just like when you were a human.
It's been some hours and the sun was already set. Sunday had already been in your shared bed, laughing softly when you jumped on it as well, sitting down beside him. He placed his arms under you and brought you close to him- you purred as he fondled softly with your cheek and furry ear before kissing you on the head, chuckling again.
"How long do you intend to stay in this form, Angel?" he suddenly asked and that made it clear that he knew it was you for some time at least. You let out a long yowl before he explained what you needed to think and do to turn back to a human.
GALLAGHER
"I thought you were more of a dog person." Siobhan said as she prepared another glass of a special cocktail for her local Penacony monsters. "I am, actually. Dunno why this cat is so attracted to this old dog." Gallagher always called himself a dog and you never understood why- for a certain time you thought he'd be an actual dog with a human disguise. but you forgot about it pretty soon- not wanting to imagine that your boyfriend was an actual dog.
He picked you up and held you in his arms as he made his way out of the door. "Where are you going?" Siobhan asked and he answered, "Taking this one to the reception, maybe someone lost them." you desperately writhed in his grasp when he planned to just give you away and accidentally scratched him, resulting in him letting you go abruptly- thank the Aeons cats land on their paws. "Don't tell me that hurt?" Siobhan laughed before turning to the bar again and Gallagher mocked her, "Ha.Ha. It didn't. Just surprised me is all."
The scratch wasn't deep and it wasn't bleeding so you were glad you didn't actually hurt him. You were now even more desperate to tell him it was you. You meowed, hissed, yowled- whatever sound a cat could make, you did it. Even sounds you didn't know cats were capable of. Gallagher groaned before he went back to the bar with you following behind him. As he took a seat, you jumped onto the counter and continued to meow in his face, making him rest his forehead on the cold counter. "Siobhan, I need something." he murmured and she simply laughed at his state as you continued to yowl at him. "Hey, you wanna help, kitty?" she asked, and it was like a golden opportunity.
Immediately, you jumped behind the counter and ran to the glasses first, nudging a large wine glass and the freezer. Siobhan watched you and took the glass and the ice, following exactly what you were nudging. After, you nudged the 'Odd Concoction' two times, the 'Rejuvenating Soda Water' once, then you swirled around yourself indicating that Siphon should stir, and she did. Lastly, you nudged the 'Dream Jam' once and then put your paw on the Robin Sticker for decorations.
After Siobhan was mixing the drink, she placed it on the counter for Gallagher, who accepted it and took a sip without opening his eyes. "Hm, wait a second.." he opened his eyes and analysed the cocktail in his hand. "This is ⸺ specialty drink."
"Wow, really? This cat sure knows a lot." Siobhan petted you on the head softly before she went to other customers. You turned to your boyfriend and meowed at him again, pointing your little paw first at the drink and then to yourself.
"How in the name of- How did you turn into a cat, sugar?" he asked and you shook your head. He sighed as he exed the entire drink in one gulp before picking you up again. "Let's go and find a way to turn you back."
WELT
"Nawww, she's so cute!! Can we keep her, Mr. Yang?" "March, we don't know if it's a girl yet. It could also be a boy." Dan Heng said, grabbing her arm and pulling her away from you as she whined about something like, "Let me go!" and "I haven't taken pictures yet!" you loved March but she was sometimes a tad too much...
A hand on your furry head took you out of your thoughts and even with a layer of fur you recognized the texture of that glove immediately. "March, you're scaring this one a little, I fear." your boyfriend said and you stretched your- seemingly liquid- body to reach his hand more. Welt found you in one of the halls of the Express and brought you to the Parlor car. You think it must've been a disturbance during the Jump to another Universe that made you turn into this fur ball.
You didn't mind at the moment though when you sat with Welt and Himeko on one of the couches with Pom-Pom sweeping the floor. Himeko drank her cup of coffee like usual and traced her thumb over your toe beans while you laid on your lover's lap purring contently. "Quite a polite one, no? And you found this one just like that?" Himeko asked, massaging your front paw as well. Welt nodded as he fondled with your furry ears.
"I did. A few minutes after the Jump, I believe." Himeko hummed as she tapped your nose lightly, making you jolt a little. "So, have you seen ⸺ lately?" she asked and you looked at her with a tilted head. "Did she figure it out?" you thought.
She smiled teasingly at you before you meowed at her.
"This woman, she does know!" you thought again before climbing up Welt's chest and yowling at his face. To him and everyone on the Express it really sounded just like whining and Welt tried to carefully get you off of him, but you were persistent- like a burdock. After some struggling, you jumped off of him and bit Pom-Pom's ear lightly, pulling it. "H-Hey! Pom-Pom's ears are no toy!" Welt got up from his seat and pulled you away from them and you took his opportunity to steal his glasses with your paws, trying to put them on your tiny nose. Only then did he notice.
He blinked a few times and took a glance at Himeko, who laughed softly. "Oh." he mentally gave himself a slap to the cheek as he realized that it was you.
"Oh! So that's ⸺? Still adorable! Let me get a pic!" March said as she took out her camera and took a picture of you and Welt with his glasses.
After turning back to a Human with Herta's help, you wanted March to print the picture and give it to you so you could hang it in your and your boyfriend's room. It was a cute picture, really. You as a cat looking straight to the camera with giant glasses and Welt covering his face with you. He apologized many, many times and you accepted it, naturally.
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charliemwrites · 2 hours
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Part 4
Mister(s) Steal Your Girl is, somehow, now the official title. Congratulations you little shits (affectionate).
Content: Toxic Behavior, Brief Weight Shaming, Hurt/Comfort
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You didn’t expect to see Johnny much after that one night - or possibly ever again. Kyle introduced you two, it was a lot of fun, but you figure that’ll be the end of it. Like introducing a new man to your girlfriends (not that you can really introduce Kyle to yours) you passed the vibe check and now Kyle will keep you and Johnny separate.
That’s how it’s been with Brandon’s friends. (Granted, you don’t really care for Brandon’s friends. And you figure it’s mutual based on the “uptight” comments they pretended to think you couldn’t hear.)
You’re starting to realize that Kyle is always going to subvert your expectations.
Johnny becomes a fixture - a welcome one. While you and Kyle still have your date nights and privacy, Johnny joins you two at least once a week for movies, drinks, dinner, or just silly adventures out and about.
You’re surprised that you don’t mind. Johnny is fantastic company, always respectful, funny, and friendly. Whenever the two of you are left alone, there’s no dead air. In fact, sometimes you could almost swear there’s electricity. Which is… well. It makes it hard to look him in the eye sometimes - and looking at Kyle even harder.
Guilt nips at your stomach until one of them distracts you with another story you’re 70% sure they shouldn’t tell you.
You and Johnny play a game with pub napkins, doodling something on one folded half, then passing it over for the other to scribble on the second half. The trick is not cheating and seeing the first half, then unfolding it to a complete (and usually silly) picture. Gaz always gets to name whatever monstrosity has been created.
You get a month of that good company. Then Kyle sighs at his phone one night.
“Shipping out again,” he explains when you glance at him.
“Will you be gone long?” you ask, shifting.
His brow furrows. “Not sure. They can’t tell us much over the phone.”
You hum in understanding. Still new to this whole military thing, the redacted danger of it all, but you think you’re getting the hang of it. At least, Kyle never seems annoyed when he can’t answer you, only apologetic.
“Is it gonna be the whole team?” you ask.
“Nah, just me and the cap.” He rubs his palm along your calf, a gesture that you suspect is self-soothing rather than for your benefit. “Probably not too dangerous, then.”
You make a noise of protest, nudging at his thigh with your foot. “Bad luck!”
“Sorry, sorry!” he chuckles, tapping his knuckles on the wooden end table. “You’re right.”
You crawl from your side of the couch to his, nuzzling up under his arm. He trails kisses along the side of your face as you snuggle in.
“I’ll miss you,” you mumble into his neck. Still a little embarrassed to be so needy, but you want him to feel appreciated.
“I’ll miss you too, chickadee. I’ll call if I can, yeah?”
You hum in agreement, squeezing an arm around his middle.
“While I’m gone, if you need anything - even some company - you ought to call Soap,” he adds.
The idea is tempting but… “I don’t want to bother him.”
“I promise you won’t,” he laughs. You don’t know what’s so funny, but hearing his voice rumble in his chest like this is always a treat.
“Maybe,” you allow.
“We’ll take it.” Before you can ask what that means, he loops an arm around your waist and scoops you into his lap. “Now then, about my send off.”
Your giggle turns into a moan as his mouth slants over yours.
Kyle’s only been gone three days. You’ve occupied yourself with cleaning up the flat you share with Brandon. Dust has been collecting since you’ve been out and about so much - and god knows Brandon hardly does more than load the dishwasher. Besides, a good bit of spring cleaning is a pleasant enough distraction, humming as you toss out old things to make more room for the new stuff you’ve been collecting.
“Good to see you getting back to normal,” Brandon says cheerfully. You glance up from the laundry you’re folding. He continues, “I was worried with how behind you got on things, but I knew you just needed some time. I told you this would be better for us both.”
You try not to let that sting. Even if things are better now, and continuing to get better, you can’t forget the pain that lingers from the beginning.
“Tell you what,” he adds, hands in his pockets. “When you finish cleaning up, I’ll take you out to the pub, yeah? Put on something pretty.”
You perk up, pleasantly surprised, though hesitant.
“We could leave earlier if you helped,” you point out, hoping for more than just dinner. “Maybe we could walk in the park or something before eating.”
He gives you a weak smile. One you recognize more than his real one by now. It’s almost apologetic, but not quite.
“I would but I’m bloody exhausted from this week, ya know? Big projects coming up at work.”
Your smile freezes. “And some late nights, I’m sure,” you try to joke.
He doesn’t laugh like you expect, but gives you an odd look. “Why would you say something like that?”
Baffled, you shrug. He shakes his head.
“I’m going to take a nap, come wake me up when you’re ready to go.”
You manage to finish the majority of your to-do list by 5. Shower, get dressed, do your hair and makeup with Brandon snoring in the background until 6. By then, he still hasn’t woken up from his nap, so you perch on the edge of the bed and gently nudge at him until he stirs.
“I’m ready to go, babe,” you murmur.
He scrunches up his face - you spare an affectionate thought for how cute it is. You’ve always found it cute.
“Five more minutes,” he grumbles.
You laugh a little. “It’s getting late, we should probably head out.”
He groans. “Five. Minutes.”
You huff in amusement and reach for his phone to set an alarm, but pause at all the notifications from dating apps crowding his screen. There are… a lot. And as you’re looking, a new message pops up, just labeled “blonde” with a peach emoji. Gross.
You set the alarm and slip away to the living room.
It takes him another half hour to finally rouse, shuffling into the living room with a groan.
“C’mon,” he yawns. “It’s going to be bloody crowded by now.”
You follow him quietly to the car, knowing he’s not chatty when he’s just woken up. Hunger only adds to his mood; you can practically see a cloud forming over his head. By the time he pulls up to the pub, he’s downright grumpy. He grumbles about shit parking, and the milling people outside. It looks busy.
“We could go somewhere else?” you suggest.
“This is fine,” he says.
He parks a block away and starts at a swift pace. You try to hold his hand, but halfway there, he pulls away to check his phone and doesn’t take it again.
Surprisingly, it’s only a twenty minute wait for a table - but Brandon sneers something like “of course it is” under his breath. You smile apologetically at the hostess and usher him away.
He doesn’t talk during the wait, at first. Until suddenly he blurts. “We wouldn’t have to wait if you’d woken me up.”
You blink at him. “I did. You asked for five more minutes.”
“Well, why didn’t you wake me up then?”
“I set an alarm?”
You don’t know why he’s so irritated, just that he seems tired and hungry.
“You know I don’t listen to alarms,” he complains, scowling at the sidewalk.
“Okay… I’ll wake you up next time,” you offer.
“Yeah, next time.”
Thankfully, the two of you are called a little early. The pub is indeed loud and crowded, and you’re definitely overdressed. But at least you know what you want - Brandon’s taken you here a million times before.
Wisely, you wait until he’s downed the texmex rolls before trying for conversation again. He hums along as you talk about work, about the books you’ve been reading, about the new movie you saw last week. You think it’s going pretty well, catching up on each other’s lives, when he interrupts you mid-sentence.
“Where was this?”
You frown. “At the grocery store…?”
“You’re still on that? Thought we moved on from that story.”
You don’t bother finishing it, just ask him about his work. It’s like pulling teeth. A lot of “good” and “busy” and “same as usual.” By the time your entree comes, you’ve given up, not sure if you want to cry or just walk away to see if he even notices. He keeps checking his phone. Your fingers twitch to text Kyle, but you don’t want to bother him while he’s working.
The end of dinner can’t come sooner. You decline dessert when the server asks.
“Probably for the better,” Brandon tells you lowly when they’re gone to get the check. “I think you’ve put on a bit of weight. You know how you get.”
You probably have - Kyle has a sweet tooth and practically begs you to split desserts with him. Johnny’s shares his food with you now too, grinning when you express approval for whatever high-protein dish he’s picked and shoving more at you.
As for “how you get”… Brandon’s mentioned in the past when you were heavier that you get mopey, aren’t much fun to be around.
(A small part of you wonders how that would even effect him at this point. He doesn’t spend enough time around you to notice if you’re mopey. Is that why tonight has been such a disaster…?)
You just collect your purse and lead the way out of the pub. It’s a quiet walk back to the car, even though Brandon seems to be in a better mood. He’s still texting, nearly bumps into an elderly couple along the way.
Back at the apartment, he runs his hand down your side, tugs at the lace hem of your shirt.
“Careful,” you chide.
He sucks his teeth and drops his hand. “I’m just trying to be playful.”
“I know, but I like this shirt.”
He rolls his eyes. “You’ve got three just like it.”
You don’t answer, know it’ll lead to more useless bickering. Just tug the stupid thing over your head, ready to go to bed.
“Hey now, that’s more like it,” he drawls, fingertips running down your spine.
You jump, surprised, but play it off that his hands are cold. He makes some crass comment about warming them up, reaching for your breasts, and your stomach churns.
“I-I think I ate something bad,” you lie, all but sprinting for the bathroom.
You close the door behind you - but don’t lock it. Just sit on the floor, the wall cold against your back, while you try to breathe through your spinning, conflicting thoughts.
He’s finally giving you attention, affection. Why aren’t you jumping at this opportunity to spend time with him? Not long ago, you would have been weeping with joy to have an iota of your normal relationship back. Maybe you really did eat something bad.
“Hey,” Brandon calls through the door, “I’m gonna stay somewhere else tonight.”
You stare at the blank white wood, aghast. “But I’m sick.”
“It’s not like I can do much, is there? Except listen to you be sick all night,” he reasons. “And who knows. Maybe it wasn’t something you ate. Maybe it’s contagious. I don’t want to spend the weekend ill.”
Your eyes burn. He didn’t even open the door to check. “Yeah,” you agree, voice robotic, “you’re right.”
Not even five minutes later, you hear the front door close. That almost, almost does you in. You manage to keep your lackluster dinner down, but not the tears.
You let yourself be pathetic for a few minutes, crying into your arms, folded over your knees. When you finally manage to get yourself together, it’s not Brandon you ache for. It’s Kyle. It’s not possible, you know. You just don’t want to be alone even though the nausea is dissipating.
Sighing, you remove your ruined makeup and wash your face, climb into one of Kyle’s jumpers. At least it still smells like him. It’s only as you’re trying to decide on a comfort show, huddled into a ball on the couch, that you remember his advice.
It takes all of fifteen seconds of debate before you scramble for your phone.
I know it’s late, but are you free, you text Johnny.
A response comes almost immediately.
Always for you, lass. You bite your lip on a tiny smile, already feeling better. Your phone buzzes again. What’s up?
Your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment as you figure out what to ask - then how to ask it.
Would you want to come to mine for movies? I don’t feel good…
He answers instantly again. Ice cream not-good or Theraflu not-good?
You sniffle when you remember that being sick was a dealbreaker for your night with Brandon.
Ice cream not-good, you reply.
Say no more, hen. Be there in fifteen. Pick a good one.
You watch TikTok’s until there’s a knock at the door. Upon answering, you’re swept up in a bear hug that lifts you off your socked feet.
“Johnny!” you cry, laughing a bit in shock.
“There she is!” he crows, swinging you around. “Been missin’ my best girl!”
You tell yourself the thrill in your stomach is just from him setting you down. (It’s a harder sell when it happens again seeing his wide smile and warm blue eyes.)
“You're ridiculous,” you huff, “I’m not your best girl.”
He arches his eyebrows. “Oh, yer keepin’ track, are ye?”
“C’mon, you must have a partner or something?” you prod as you usher him inside.
“Kyle must’ve told ye, hen, it’s hard in this line of work,” he explains, shrugging. “Tried before but… usually they just end up feeling neglected, ya ken.”
You hum. That’s why Kyle said you and he would work so well with the open relationship - that you’d still have someone at home while he was out. That you wouldn’t be alone if something happened to him.
“Anyway, this is no kinda talk for a cozy night in, now is it?” Johnny says, cutting your melancholy musing short. “Come look at what I brought ya!”
You only notice then the two grocery bags in one hand. He herds you to the couch and sets them on the coffee table for you to root through.
“My favorite!” You exclaim when you extract the tub of ice cream.
The grin Johnny shoots you is proud. “Kyle said so.”
“You two,” you sigh happily.
He’s also brought a squishy stuffed animal, crisps, popcorn, soda, candy, and a small collection of self-care items. You hold the face-masks up with a questioning smile.
“Heard somewhere that it’s good for ye, when yer feelin’ down.” You try not to giggle when the last word comes out sounding like “doon.” He continues, blissfully ignorant. “Hope that’s the right shite, there was a lot to choose from.”
You throw your arms around him, chest warm. “Thank you, this is perfect, Johnny.”
He circles his arm around your waist, holding you close. “Anytime, bonnie,” he murmurs into your hair.
You squeeze his shoulders as you pull away, waving one of the mask packets with a wicked little smile.
“Wanna try this ‘shite’ with me?” you tease.
You expect a resounding and masculine-heavy no. Instead, Johnny tilts his head consideringly for a moment, then shrugs.
“Eh, why the hell not?”
You wake up the next morning to a mess of candy wrappers, discarded moisturizers, and an empty carton of ice cream. And the smell of eggs. Cartoons are playing quietly on the telly. When you yawn and sit up, you’re greeted by a cheerful Johnny at the stove, wearing your pink apron.
“Mornin’, sunshine,” he calls.
You flush and smile back, glad that you called him. “Mornin’!”
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tragedybunny · 3 days
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Pretty Baby 2
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༺Summary༻
Astarion is a brat on several occasions and is duly punished for it. In between, he and Mommy (Fina) deal with some emotional issues.
༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Tav
༺Warnings༻ NSFW - PiV Sex, Anal Play, Femdom, Mommy Kink, Feminization, Forced Orgasm, Chastity Cage, Porn with Feelings, Porn streaming, Pegging, Astarion being a brat
༺Word Count༻ 3783
༺A/N༻
So, it's chapter 2 of a fic I never planned to write. Lol. And somewhow now we've got plot and feelings involved. Hope you all enjoy, I had a lot of fun writing it. And huge thank you to the best of betas and friends, @icybluepenguin
The chat is populated by Tav's and other characters from my friends, they all helped makes this a delight.
Check out two similar fics if you dig mine. Decadent Torture and Careless Whisper
Read On AO3 Chapter 1
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“Hush, a little more, then your punishment is over.” I let go of his cock, turn off the plug vibrating in his ass, and give him a short reprieve. 
Drawing gasping breaths, he looks up at me with pleading, tear filled eyes. God, his eyes are pretty; startling crimson, soft, and round. Normally, I cave when they're all watery like this. But not tonight - tonight is for lessons. 
I play with the little pink bow on his white thigh high stocking. Leaving him with only those, his white bra, and of course his collar, made him such a fetching picture for our little teaching session.
He'd spent most of the night on his knees in the naughty corner, those stockings peeking out of his pleated white skirt, a little pink cashmere sweater completing his look. I'd posted a few pictures that had his audience nice and worked up.
Demi_g0ddess: oh looks like Little Star was very bad today can’t wait to see what Mommy does to the little brat Bookworm420: didn’t realize Mommy was a thicc queen this might be too much for my ovaries
The chat had been crowded when we set up for the stream. Before the camera went on, I told him what to take off and how to prep, but not what I was planning. 
We went live and I made him give a little introduction. 
“I've had a very bad attitude lately and Mommy wants to make sure I'm thoroughly punished, so she's letting you all watch.” Every word was said petulantly as he leaned into playing the brat. 
Ari147: wonder what he did… Drag-onme: who cares, as long we get to watch the aftermath BardlockLongdick: is that a leather couch animal cruelty is not sexy.
“Go on,” I prompted, gesturing for him to get ready. 
The clothes he stripped were folded and set to the side, the chat cheering him on. When he kneeled down, I handed him a vibrating plug that made his eyes go wide. 
“Mommy, please…” he pleaded, but obediently went to work prepping and inserting it, cheeks flushed a deep red. I let him position himself in my lap, head propped on the arm of the couch. Then I started typing, Astarion watching with dawning horror.  
Mommy: Little Star has been an absolute brat about wearing a chastity cage while I’m out of town, because he wouldn’t be able to touch himself. So, tonight, I’m making him come as many times as I think he can handle. 
Demonbbyy: poor little thing got himself into a lot of trouble  TestyZesty: Mommy is way too nice about it but I’m still going to watch.
And here we were- Astarion, covered in his own semen, whimpering in my arms. I drag my finger along his cock, and he sucks in a shuddering breath. One more and I think he’ll have learned his lesson. I push the button on the remote for the plug.
“Fuck,” he whines the word. 
Penguino: aww, Mommy, I think he’s had enough  TestyZesty: nah, he’s still coherent  keep going Demi_g0ddess: Zesty, we’re sharing a brain cell  DrowDaddy: this chat is very mean tonight
I put a generous coating of lube on my hand and begin to work his shaft again. He pants and moans, desperate sounds falling from his lips as he builds to another orgasm. 
The chat continues to go feral as he whines and cries. I'm gentle this last round, languidly rubbing, letting the plug do its work. “That's it, one more for me. You've been so good for your punishment.”
He squirms at the praise, tearfully whimpering, hips weakly bucking as I take him to climax again. My other hand turns up the intensity on the plug. 
“Pleeeease,” he cries, voice ragged.
Another spurt of cum and he goes limp. I turn off the plug and lean down to kiss his sweat soaked forehead, letting him recover for a moment. He's so pretty like this, spent and helpless in my lap.  “Now, are you ready to apologize for being such a little brat the past couple of days?” 
He doesn't hesitate. “I'm sorry, Mommy,” he whimpers, tears running down his face. 
“Good baby. Almost done.” 
He tenses. “But...”
“Shh. They get to see because of the attitude.” He makes a noise. “Don't turn this into a spanking session,” I warn and he gets quiet. 
I take a warm, moist towel I'd set up earlier and clean up his pretty cock. The chat is losing it. 
KneelForMeSweets: and we get to see the cage  can he act up every night 
It's a pretty pink little chastity cage, just perfect for him. I slide the ring on first, then put the tube over his cock before locking it down. He's so quiet, I can hear every breath and the sniffles he's still fighting. 
Once they get a good look, I shut down the stream. 
Mommy: I'm going to go get this little brat cleaned up. Hopefully, he's learned his lesson.
Bitchybambi: I hope not, I want to see what you do next  KneelForMeSweets: she can DM me for ideas.
I kill the video and give him a proper kiss as he clings to me, spent and shivering. “Come on, you. Bath time.”
Astarion is unusually quiet during our aftercare session, and when he's settled into bed in a pair of oversized pajamas, I pull him close, and he snuggles into my neck on instinct. 
“You know, if you think it's too much to wear it, you don't have to.” I run my fingers through his curls and cover his face in soft kisses. He's done stints in the cage before, but I'm starting to doubt myself on this one. It would kill me to ever hurt him for real. 
He doesn't move; if anything, he burrows deeper into the crook of my neck. “It's not, and I am sorry for being a pain. It's just…”
He makes a small, frustrated noise and I keep petting him. “Take your time.” 
For a few minutes, he just takes shaky breaths, and then he speaks. “It’s this whole going back to school thing. I'm nervous, and you're going to be gone for the next two days. And what if this is a dumb idea and I can't do it.”
“It's not a dumb idea, you really like fashion design, baby. And why do you think you can't do it?” 
“Remember the last time I was in school? I failed out.” 
“Astarion, you didn't want to be a lawyer and you hated law school. You only went because Caz-” I feel him tense in my arms, “because he made you.” 
“I know.” He sounds teary again. “But it doesn't mean I don't feel stupid.”
“Love, my pretty little wife, you are not stupid. You’re capable and creative. And you know I won’t have time on this stupid team building trip, otherwise I’d bring you with.” 
“Still going to miss you, though.” 
“I know, baby. I’ll be back before you know it.”
The next morning, Astarion drives me to the airport. I put the keys for his collar and the cage in my jewelry box in case of an emergency or if it’s too much for him. It's cold and rainy, and he’s adorable in oversize sweats with sleepy eyes. After he unloads my bag, I pull him in for a hug and feel it pressed against me. A wave of lust courses through me; I can’t wait to come back and have a nice little session with him. 
“Call me when you land, Fina.” 
I don’t know if he realizes how much I’ll miss him. Astarion and I have rarely been apart since we met in grad school. It's just as hard on me to get on that plane and be without him.
We get one quick call before I’m off to the first of many “activities” the firm planned. I can’t be too angry about it, they pay a ton, and it finances my trophy wife’s lifestyle. I tell Astarion I’ll call him after dinner and karaoke hour. 
The whole day isn't that tortuous, and most of my coworkers get into the spirit of things for karaoke. I still make my exit as soon as I can to get some time in with Astarion. 
To my surprise, I see he's streaming. Sprawled out on the bed in a sheer black satin chemise that's ridden up his thighs enough to show off his beautifully caged cock. 
Instead of anything salacious, he's painting his nails. Not every stream is as action filled as last night. Some of them are just mundane things like now. I can’t fault the audience, I'd still pay to see him too, if he wasn’t mine already. I slide into the chat without announcing myself. 
Ari147: nothing fun tonight? :( 
“I’m afraid not, darling. If I don’t get any fun, neither do you.” He blows a cheeky kiss to the camera, and readjusts, spreading his legs more. One hand idly traces unpainted nails along a thigh while he blows on the ones he just painted. 
He’s such a filthy little tease. 
Mommy: glad to see you’re behaving yourself tonight
He sits up straighter, eyes lighting up. “Hi, Mommy. Missing all this?” His hand climbs higher, running up his abdomen to his chest. 
Demonbbyy: if she isn’t, I’ll take him   Mommy: settle yourselves down
Astarion leans over, getting on all fours to look directly into the camera, licking his lips. “Well, are you?” he pouts. 
Mommy: you know I am, and I’ll prove it when I get home 
His breath hitches. “That’s all for tonight, darlings. I want to give Mommy all my… attention.” 
The stream goes blank and he’s video-calling me seconds later. “Hi.” He smiles giddily. “I thought you might be a little later.”
“What can I say, I do actually miss you a lot. How was your day?”
We chat for a while and I watch him finish his nails, still in his chemise, which hides nothing as he shifts around. He seems less nervous about the school situation, which I chalk up to actually talking about it. 
“Alright, I should probably get to sleep. I’ll call you in the morning.” 
The morning call goes smooth enough, but the day is filled with seminars and an afternoon paintball session. Why do HR departments always think that’s a good idea? Astarion starts texting me around lunch, chatty little messages that I don’t have time to properly answer. Then the attitude creeps in. 
“Fine, if you don’t want to talk to me.”
“I. Am. Busy. Astarion. I’ll call after dinner.”
I forgot dinner is an awards banquet that traps me for longer than I’d anticipated. It never seems to end, and I start trying to text him during it. No response, and a part of me begins to stress that he’s not doing well. He’d tell me though if he wasn’t, I’m pretty sure. 
I practically run up to my room after dinner, skipping the cocktail hour after and all the great networking. All because he has me nearly panicked with worry. So of course, when he doesn’t answer his phone, I’m furious to find him on stream. 
He’s not actually wearing anything, sitting on the plush white rug, a cozy glow from the fireplace providing ambient lighting.
BaasaNova: weren’t you supposed to be in a chastity cage while Mommy is gone 
He gives his hard cock a firm stroke and moans dramatically, red eyes dancing with mischief. “If I’m getting ignored, I’m not going to listen. Besides, she’s busy, so what she doesn’t know isn’t going to hurt her.”
Bookworm420: this seems like a bad idea I don't want to see you get in trouble. 
It isn’t about disobeying me, or any other kink related thing. He really thinks I’d ignore him on purpose. And that stings like nothing else I've ever felt. 
I wait and lurk while he continues to touch himself. He's bubbly and flamboyant, basking in the praise of the chat. Normally, I'd be entranced by his hand working that gorgeous shaft, now I'm getting more furious. 
Finally, with an exaggerated cry, he comes all over himself. While his hand gives a few more lazy pumps, he glances at the chat. 
Mommy: I hope that was worth it 
His eyes get wide and he sits up straight. “Shit.” 
The stream dies just as he starts calling me.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…” he whimpers before I can say anything.
“Astarion,” I cut him off. “I want you to know that I still love you and that isn't going to change. But I'm so hurt and angry right now that you could decide I would ignore you on purpose.”
“Please, I just…” 
“No, we're not going to talk about this now. I'm going to give you until I get home tomorrow to get your thoughts together. But right now I'm too angry to talk to you. So I'm going to go to bed and will call you in the morning.”
 He sobs. “No, stay on the phone with me. Please, Fina.”
I sigh and relent. “I love you, Star.”
We lay in silence for a long time, the occasional sniffle coming from his end. Finally, I'm too exhausted and have to sleep, and reluctantly tell him goodnight.  
There's a subdued call in the morning and I tell him I'll get a cab at the airport, I don't think he should be driving while that upset. Then I'm on the way home. The anger has mostly worn off but this stunt of his still hurts. 
When I get home, hev hasn't left the bed, completely naked, almost hiding under the covers. I don't even think twice before getting under them with him and pulling him to me.
“I'm sorry,” he says softly into my neck, reminding me so much of the day we first kissed. The day I'd needed to take care of him after what Cazador had done to him. 
“I know. Tell me what happened.” I bury my face in his curls and kiss his head. 
“I started getting nervous again and started to panic, and I wanted to talk to you. And I got upset that I couldn't. I know you wouldn't just ignore me.”
“Then why didn't you say you were anxious? I could have made time if I had known you were panicking.”
“I didn't want you to think I was weak. Especially after you told me that you believed in me.”
“Astarion, love, you are always going to be one of the strongest people I've ever met.” My hands rub his back, fingers finding the scars of years of his adopted father's “discipline.” “I'm sorry too, I think I pushed you into something you didn't need while you were nervous. Even if you said you were alright with it.” 
He gets quiet for a moment before answering. “It isn’t your fault. You’re always the best you can be to me.” 
“Still, maybe we should take a break from some of the more performative things.” I feel him tense and kiss his cheek to reassure him. 
“No, it makes me so happy to be like that, to be so completely yours. Don’t take that away.” 
“Let's talk some more tomorrow. There's no need to rush anything.”
“Alright. And, well, you did say that you were going to show me how much you missed me?” His voice pitches soft and breathy. 
“Astarion, you horny little gremlin,” I tease. 
“Please, Mommy. I know I was very naughty, but don't I deserve a little treat?” 
I already feel slick between my legs, even if I'm not sure that I should let him do this. 
“I know what you're thinking, but I can handle some relatively vanilla sex right now. I want to be loved.” He gives me his best wide-eyed pleading look. 
“Alright, baby.” 
I sit up, and he helps me undress, leaving kisses wherever he can reach. My hand reaches out to wrap around his stiffened cock and give a few languid strokes. I catch his eyes wandering down to my breasts with naked longing. 
Relatively vanilla, he said.
“Come here.” 
I lay back, and he follows, slotting between my legs. His cock pushes into me as his lips latch onto a nipple, and he sucks frantically. “There you go.” I stroke his hair, and he starts fucking me with wild, desperate thrusts. “That's what you needed, huh, baby.”
He whines and sucks harder, teeth scraping until pleasure blends with pain. Molten heat builds in my core with each snap of his hips, and I doubt either of us will last long. 
“So good for me,” I pant as I feel myself contract around him and my body tingle with bliss. That does it, and he gives one last jerky thrust as I wrap my legs around his hips, pulling him in tight to take every drop of him. 
He collapses on top of me, still suckling, and I let him stay that way, fucked and comforted.
After a very nice Saturday in our pajamas, we talk and settle some things between us. Astarion is still very nervous about school in a couple of weeks, but doesn't want to change the things he loves about our relationship. He even insists on punishment for his bad behavior.
We agree on three days with the chastity cage, the two he originally was supposed to have and one extra. No clothing at home, so I can see it at all times. It kills me not being able to play with my wife's pretty cock. But you know, discipline hurts me more than it hurts him, or something.  
And at the end of the third day, a very serious lesson. So, I arrange something special, to be shared with his audience, like he shared his misbehavior. He's been waiting in the bedroom while I set things up.
“Safe word, wifey,” I order when I come to collect him. 
He stares at my too short, black latex dress with my pale pink strap-on visible where it rides up over my thighs, and blushes. “Objection.” 
“Good, baby.” I lead him to the living room where the camera is already at the right angle to watch as I bend him over the couch arm, pushing his face into the cushion right next to the waiting paddle. I watch him shiver with anticipation and spare a glance at the chat. They’re in rare form tonight. 
DM_ME_UR_SYRUP: Back from my two week ban just in time.  Thornyonmain: Hggnnnnnn, god he looks so good like that am I enjoying the impending pain too much Bitchybambi: Nah, he's asked for this  Demi_g0ddess : You're so right, bestie Penguino: Aww, you guys, have a little sympathy
Picking up the paddle, I run it over the curve of his ass and hear him whimper. My hand pushes down on his back, commanding and reassuring. The first smack is light and I give him a moment. He trembles but says nothing. 
Another one, slightly harder, he whines but doesn’t say anything. I keep going, watching his pale skin burst into red blossoms with each impact. I can feel him shaking under my hand and hear when he starts to cry. 
“You’re being so good,” I coo.
He sobs in response. It’s been awhile since he had a serious spanking session. I keep whispering praise as I go, letting him know how well he’s doing, how much I love him. He’s a teary mess when I’m done, and I can feel the warmth coming from his skin. 
“I’m sorry I was naughty, Mommy,” he whines through tears.
“Shh, shh, I know. I think you deserve a little reward for taking the punishment so well.”
l take the lube I have waiting and coat my fingers. He whines for a totally different reason when I spread him open and push a finger inside his tight hole.
“Fuck,” he mewls when the second one enters. 
He pants through clenched teeth while I work them inside of him, getting him ready to take me. Each stretch and flex draws a new noise and when he’s ready, I coat the strap in lube and press the tip of it against his entrance. Even with a stinging ass, he rolls his hips into it, desperate and needy. 
I gave him a little playful smack on the marks darkening to bruises. “Behave.” 
He yelps but stills. Slowly, I slide it into him, relishing each little moan as I fill him. Then my hips rock, and I thrust deeply, before stilling again. 
“Please,” he begs, desperately. 
“Please what?”
“Fuck me, Mommy.” 
I reward him with another deep thrust, and began to move my hips with a quick rhythm. Under me, Astarion is losing himself, keening wails and pleading whimpers accompany my every movement. 
I'm aware just how achingly empty I am; later we’ll take care of me. Right now, I focus on making him properly blissed out. 
I know his cock is straining against the cage, leaking helplessly, as he reaches the edge. My fingers dig into his hips and I fuck him as deep as I can until a wordless shout rips from him and his whole body is shaking again. I press my hips tight to his, as deep into him as I can while his orgasm ebbs away with multiple whimpers, only pulling out when he’s stilled. 
Turning back, I give the chat a good-bye and end the stream.
SquidDomme: He has in fact not learned anything DrowDaddyG: I think he'll try to be better, he's such a sweet boy BardlockLongdick: Maybe you all should try opening a Bible instead of this website DM_ME_UR_SYRUP: Anyone know how I can get an air horn noise to play in chat (I'm joking, please don't ban me again)
Then I remove the strap-on and save it for later clean up. “Come here, wifey,” I say, sitting on the couch. 
Sluggishly, he obeys, coming to rest his head in my lap. I run my fingers through his hair and let him come  down from the experience. 
“I love you,” he murmurs into my thighs.
“I love you too. No more bratty behavior, right?” 
I feel the little smirk he makes. “Absolutely, lesson learned.” 
We both know he's lying, but I trust none of it will be super hurtful again. “Good little wife.”
Tag list:
@micropoe10  @writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21
 @tallymonster  @dependsonthedream @sunfire-ancunin 
@bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx @lisrelly
@elora-the-slutty-songstress @bhaalbaaby @spacebarbarianweird
@satanicspinosaurus @darlingxdragon @wanderingisobel @astarionsbeloved
@vixstarria @claryvoyantfray @misscrissfemmefatale @bg3obsessedsideblogg @captainaceofspades @wickedwitchofthewilds @asterordinary @talented-bitch @waking-electric @snowfolly
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hiemaldesirae · 2 days
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LOOL YES!! That's what you get Alastor!! Cursed cat!Alastor adores Vox and would never hurt him. Honestly it'd be hilarious if Vox does an interview that night and the entire hotel (plus Lucifer) catches it and Cursed cat!Alastor is on Vox's shoulders just purring away and happily nuzzling Vox's screen and being happily petted and Alastor is gripping his fixed staff, grinding his fangs, jealousy leaking from him.
Charlie is pleased: "Alastor, I knew you could find that cat a good home! Thank you! =D"
Everyone else is fucking shocked. They know Alastor threw that cat at the Vees for entertainment and hell raising purposes (and in Husk's case, a way to try and get Vox to come back to him. Most of Alastor's schemes involving the Vees always, always revolve about getting Vox back.)
The interview is about a new product of Voxtech, but at the end of it, they ask about Vox's new pet and Vox just puffs up, proud as can be:
Vox: "This little demon just charged into the lobby, brutally attacking my staff! 2 or 3 died, I think 4 or 5 were maimed so I of course had to keep him! Isn't that right, Venom? (Cause Vox thought he had rabies....and he foams at the mouth when he attacks...so...and the V theme.) Isn't he precious?"
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*sir is fine, for future reference. but YEAH, alastor would definitely be seething with rage- like whole fucking cartoon ass face too, he's NOT having the time of his life rn. why the FUCK was vox petting that hellspawn???? that should've been HIM ???????????
also venom is a perfect name for that little shit, honestly, though ill be fr i can only think of the. You know. Venom.
anyway whatever here's another writing snip. (vv short because i have morning classes tmw and im going to freak if im late again) you guys are greedy asf but whatever ill provide like any good father would
"Oh, dear... and he *kept* it, is that right?" Rosie gasps as she watches Alastor grip his hair tightly, head cradled in his hands. She giggles as she continues teasing the poor demon, "My, Alastor, isn't he quite the catch? Compassionate and caring to boot, not to mention that he seems to be *quite* popular among the denizens of Hell!"
"Rosie, my dear, please. Stop talking. For the love of God, stop talking," Alastor's ears flatten more as he begs his friend, Rosie merely laughing softly in delight as she watches.
"You can hardly blame me for being curious, Alastor! I mean, you always refused to take your sweet little picture box to Cannibal Town when the two of you were still talking... why, I had to learn of your dalliance through Mimzy! And, not to devalue my beloved's qualities, of course, but she's *hardly* the greatest source of information one can find-- I married her out of love, not for her communication skills."
"That *thing* probably has rabies," Alastor spits out, looking as if he'd just swallowed a particularly bitter pill. "I don't *understand* what he sees in it!"
"Well, it does look quite like you," Rosie points out leisurely. She takes a sip out of her teacup before continuing, "Perhaps he's treating it as a substitute for you? You know, in the way that some would treat their plushs like pets, he's treating his pet as... well, you."
Alastor narrows his eyes at her. "Vox *knows* that if he wanted to talk to me, he could easily just go over and tune into our shared frequencies. He's *replacing* me with it, Rosie, I just know it!"
"Hm... well, in that case, why don't you just go and make it clear to him that you aren't replacable?" Rosie taps the edge of her cup with a knowing glint in her abyssal black eyes, holding her good friend's gaze steadily. "You've never shyed away from confrontation before, have you, Alastor? Why be hesitant now?"
Alastor licked his lips, staring down in his lap before he picked up his own teacup and downed the liquid inside like a shot.
"Thank you for hosting me today, Rosie. I think... I've reached a conclusion."
A knowing smirk crosses the Cannibal Overlord's face. "Of course you have. I expect to be formally introduced to your lovely little muse soon, you understand?"
"Yes, my fair lady," Alastor rolls his eyes with amusement. "But you had better not try and take a bite of him."
"Who, little old me? I'd never, dear!"
"You had better not," Alastor frowns. Though his tone is joking, his expression falls flat.
Elsewhere, in the Entertainment District, Vox sneezes into Venom's fur as he cradles the fluffball of red fur. The freaky kitten turns to look up at him with a questioning look, but he only ruffles Venom's ears apologetically.
"Sorry, Ven. I don't know what came over me just now- oh, look at this! Should we get you this collar, or that one...?"
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27treks · 3 months
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some of the screen shots I've collected showing some of my favorite bugs.
1st is a dead mind flayer hovering in the air over where he should be on the ground in the ending cinematic
2nd is a harper from act 2 displaying the jaw glitch that I thought was fixed but alas
3rd is one of the people needing rescued in act 3 who seems to be a bit of an air head I suppose
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jungkookstatts · 5 months
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All Over Again
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[Summary]: Paternity leave has its effects on Jungkook. After his first day back at work, he can't help but show you how much he doesn't want to go back.
[Theme]: Dad!Jk, CEO!Jk, Married Couple AU, Parent's AU
[Rating]: 18+ for sexual themes. Marking, kissing, nipple play, creampie, unprotected (wrap it up y'all), dom!JK, mentions of another pregnancy, talks of pregnancy and getting pregnant, etc.
[Word Count]: 4,274
[A/N]: This is a pure result of the urge my body suddenly gets to want a child right before my period smh. Anyway, felt cute, might delete later once I am sane.
It’s been a long ass day. Jungkook’s white button-up feels stapled to his skin, his pants folding uncomfortably with every step he makes as he exits his office. A long finger comes up to his neck, digging underneath his striped tie, wiggling it a little to loosen the chokehold it has around his neck. His other hand feels bound to his briefcase, which carries so much importance in his life but yet so much burden at the same time.
It’s his first day back at work after his baby boy was born. The briefcase he holds reminds him of the duty he has to his family — of his passion and his support for you and your baby. But it also reminds him of the time it has ripped away from spending with you. He clutches it with so much strength at the thought of you, pulling his car keys out of his pocket and pressing the unlock button so hard, that he thinks he almost might just break it.
With a deep breath, he takes off his tie and tosses it in the passenger seat along with his briefcase. He’s ready to go home. That picture of you, him, and your son that you insisted on framing and Jungkook bringing to work has been a constant reminder of what he has to look forward to at the end of the day. If only his paternity leave could have been longer. You and his son are all he’s been able to think about. How you were doing, if you needed his help, if Jaemun was being feisty, how the cute crinkle on his nose resembles yours to a T.
It’s late January, and the winter air is unforgiving. He wonders if you have the heat on high enough; if Jaemun had enough blankets, or if the tip of your nose was cold like how it always is in the winter months. He can imagine you holding him close, swaddling him as you sing to him delicately. The thought makes his whole body warm, even though the air is so cold that it feels like glass is cutting against his skin.
He’s convinced he will take more time off. He’s the CEO, after all. He could take months off and it not matter. He wants to be with you always — at all times of the day to hold you and be there for you like he should be. If only the world had been that easy to where passions didn’t have a price. He got lucky, his passion having a heavy penny attached to it. But he wonders where that passion took something more valuable away from him — time. He finds himself now strapped between the choice of time and passion, and he fights the fact that he cannot choose both.
The door to your home is welcoming to his eyes as he pulls up to it. It’s not big by any means. Just homey and enough for the three of you. Even with the snow covering almost every inch of it, the reminder of how warm it is on the inside makes his drive to enter it even greater. He does so with a shiver, coming up to your shared home with a stomp of his boots to shake off the snow just before he enters.
To his surprise, he’s met with hushed music coming from the kitchen as he puts his winter coat on the hook, places his briefcase on the wooden floor, and shimmies out of his shoes. He looks at his watch first, making sure it’s not Jaemun’s nap time, to which he finds out it is. The soft music makes sense now, and he smiles when he makes his way down the hallway to the source of the noise.
The rest of the house is dark except for the kitchen-living room area that you and your baby rest in. Jaemun is peacefully sleeping in his bassinet by the couch, cuddling his dinosaur blanket, while you are by the stove, stirring something.
You look over your shoulder at the sound of familiar footsteps, and your heart immediately softens at the sight of your husband in the doorframe. He smiles back tiredly, running his hand through his hair in an exhausted attempt to pull himself together before he makes his way over to you. He looks relieved, like he’s finally received what he’s wanted all day. You’re happy to see him, knowing all too well that that’s what you’ve been waiting for all day, too.
Big, warm hands slide around your waist, a heavy chin rests on your shoulder as he kisses your cheek softly. He takes a deep breath, breathing in your presence as he releases the tension from work off his shoulders. You tend to have an instant effect on him — he missed you so much.
“You’re stirring water?” he laughs as he stares at the pot of water on the stove, unboiled, as you stir it as if it is.
“I’m trying to get it to boil quicker,” you explain with a defeated sigh. “Doesn’t seem to be working. I feel like I’ve been standing here for 20 minutes.”
He hums from behind you, taking your stirring hand and stopping your motions. You’ve never been a big cooker, but he knows you’ve been trying lately. “Just let it be, love. It’ll get there.”
You do as he says, putting the ladle down on the countertop and turning around in his embrace. You wrap your arms around his neck, staring at the tall man who holds you close against him. You’re met with a tired Jungkook who rests his forehead against yours as you play with the hairs at the back of his head.
“How was work?” you ask gently.
He groans, wrapping his hands around your waist and holding you tighter against him. It causes you to rest your cheek on his shoulder, hugging him in full.
“That bad?” you chuckle.
Your husband just sighs against your neck. “It’s too early to go back, Y/n,” he candors.
You tuck a strand of hair that fell in front of his face behind his ear. “We’re ok, Kook,” you comfort. But he only shakes his head, making the tucked strand fall out of its place again.
“I’m not,” he says. “I want to be here with you. Spend time with Jaemun before he’s suddenly 25.”
You chuckle at that. It does feel like that sometimes. It’s been three months since your son was born, but it feels like it was just yesterday that you were holding him for the first time.
You can only hold his cheek in response, running your thumb slowly against his soft skin. You feel for him, you really do. He’s such a good father. It makes your heartstrings tug and twist and pull every time you see him with your little boy. It’s only a matter of time before you have to go back to work as well. The thought makes your stomach turn, and you can completely sympathize with your husband dreading going back to work and leaving you and Jaemun.
“Your water is boiling,” he breaks you out of your daze.
“Oh,” you turn around. You smile, knowing he was right before. “I’m making pasta if that sounds ok?”
Jungkook kisses your neck in response, a gentle thing that has your tummy flipping for a second.
“You could also probably wake up our son,” you check the time on the microwave. “He’s been a little sleepy today, so I let his nap go for a little longer than usual.”
You add the pasta in and turn the water down, moving over to the greens left on the cutting board. You start chopping until your husband’s lips move lower.
“Our son,” he whispers, kissing your collarbone. The statement makes him jittery. It feels unreal still, even after nine months of waiting, and another three of actually having your little family here with him. You’re his wife, the mother of his kid, and he loves you more than anything in the world. You gave him something he can never find an equivalent to giving back to you. You gave him your heart and a family, and there’s nothing that can replace or overcome what that means to him. His soul lives for yours; it’s overwhelming what you’ve done for him. It’s overwhelming how you make him feel.
He kisses your collarbone softly once again, his heart full. You tilt your head to the side for more, and he gives it to you, kissing up your neck with slow wet kisses.
“Kook,” you exhale gently. You feel him hum against the skin just under your ear. Large palms cup your waist, his body moving closer to yours, trapping your hips against the countertop. Your knife feels loose in your hand when he bites at your skin gently, his tongue brushing over the bite mark afterward.
He stirs something within you. Something that you’ve missed terribly for the past few months. It makes your thighs tremble as he gently caresses your skin under his fingertips.
“The baby—“ you begin, but Jungkook’s motions cut you off yet again when his fingers slowly slide down your front. He’s unsure, his hand hesitating over your skin as his breath stops momentarily in thought.
“Is this okay?” He asks you genuinely. You nearly fall to your knees, dropping your knife onto the board, when his fingers put pressure over your clothed mound. It’s subtle, and much more gentle than what you’re used to with him. You know he’s being cautious, but god did you miss him. “If it’s too much, I’ll pull away.”
You shake your head.
It’s been a long time since the two of you have gotten intimate. Childbirth wasn’t easy, and your doctor just recently gave you two the “ok” for sex. The first time you tried since then wasn’t like what you’re used to with your husband. It was slow and painful, ending with a lot of apologies, embarrassment, and frustration. It’s safe to say that you have to get used to sex all over again.
“No,” you lean against him. “J-Just be gentle. I’m still a little sore.”
“Ok,” he whispers against your neck, kissing it softly. “Just relax for me, baby. I’ll make it feel good, I promise.”
You nod, loosening your nervous shoulders as your husband takes control. He stops swiftly for a second, turning the stove on the lowest setting before looking over his shoulder at his son to ensure he’s still fast asleep. Once he sees that he is, he immediately returns to you.
“So good for me,” he says, slowly circling your clit over your sweats. His other hand squeezes your waist before it moves up, sliding under your shirt and trickling over your breast. You’re wearing a soft bra today—one without an underwire—which makes it easier for him to slide his fingers under.
You whimper when he softly massages your boob, his fingers playing with your nipples gently. Your body, especially your breasts, has become 10x more sensitive since birth. You can feel everything, and everything either hurts or feels really really good. Whenever your husband seems to hold them, you’re a whimpering mess, melting like putty in his arms as he plays with you.
“Sensitive,” Jungkook smiles. His fingers rub harder against you, and you subtly buck your hips against him. His lips graze against your skin, his hair tickling your collarbone as he assaults your neck over and over again. 
“You’re so cute when you’re pregnant,” he rasps against your cheek before planting a sweet kiss upon it. “Wanna see you like that all the time. So full of me — carrying our babies.”
“Jungkook, I—” you whine, grasping onto his wrist. You’re unsure what to do with yourself, wanting him to do so much to you, but not knowing where to start.
The man behind you takes his hand away from your mound, and he chuckles when you whine in protest. But his thumbs hook on your pants and underwear, slowly pulling them down.
“Relax, baby,” he asks again. “I told you, I’m gonna take care of you. Don’t worry.”
His hand slides around your waist again, smoothing over your skin until it’s sliding between your folds. The back of your hand comes up to your mouth as your other grips the countertop for support as he plays with you.
“So wet,” he moans, feeling the effect he’s had on you with his fingers. “This all for me? I’ve barely touched you yet.”
You nod, feeling completely at the mercy of the man behind you. His other hand plays with your nipple again, and you feel another wave of euphoria go straight to your pussy.
His fingers gather your slick generously, smoothing it over your clit before circling it gently. He plays infinities over it, making your knees go weak. It’s getting harder to stay quiet, especially when he pinches your nipple gently, making you gasp at the soreness and pleasure it causes.
“K-Kook,” you whine, but he only chuckles, quickening his motions on your clit as he presses further into you. You can feel his dick strained against his work pants, and the thought of him inside you again makes you feel so needy for him. “Want you,” you pant. “Please.”
“Patience,” he shushes you, kissing your neck surely. “I haven’t even made you cum yet.”
“Wanna cum with you,” you whine in protest.
“You will,” he promises.
You gasp as he switches his finger, his thumb trading places with his middle. It circles over you just the same, except this time, it’s joined by his middle finger slowly inserting itself between your folds.
“Oh,” you exhale, feeling weak when he pumps it in and out of you slowly.
He lets himself test your reactions, seeing if the insertion is too much — if it hurts or feels uncomfortable. It doesn’t seem to be, and he slowly lets his ring finger join with his middle, causing you to roll your eyes back slightly.
“So good for me, baby,” he encourages. “Does that feel good?”
“Yes,” you reply almost immediately.
He kisses your neck. His lips leave hot, wet marks all over your skin as he curls his fingers against your g-spot. His other hand quickly comes to your waist, stabilizing you as you whimper against the back of your hand, trying your best to keep quiet.
He circles his thumb faster, his fingers circling and brushing against your g-spot in tandem with his movements. You feel your orgasm looming over you, and with a certain pressure against your clit, you’re coming undone just as he said you would all over his fingers.
“There you are,” he coaxes you. You’re a whimpering mess, and he feels his dick twitch at the sight of you falling apart on his fingers. He helps you ride out your high, his fingers very gently brushing over your clit as you come down.
Once you're calmed down, you reach around you, playing with his belt loop as you rest your head on his shoulder and look up at him. He looks back down, hesitating again knowing what you want but unsure if it’s too much for you to handle yet.
“What,” he smiles teasingly with a kiss to your forehead.
“I want you,” you candor, looking at up him with pleading eyes.
He kisses your nose. “Are you sure? You said it hurt last time.”
You nod. “Please, Koo,” you beg him.
His chest rises, and he takes a deep breath before he nods, kissing you gently as he unbuckles his belt. He places it on the counter before unzipping himself and pulling his pants down. It springs up, pressing itself against your skin gently. But he takes himself in his hands, hesitantly letting it slide down over your folds. 
“Let me know if I’m hurting you, okay?” He says, lining himself up to you with a few strokes of his cock. God, was he nervous. The last time sex hurt really bad for you, and that was just a week ago. He wonders if the prep was enough; he hopes it was, he really doesn’t want to hurt you again.
You nod, holding onto the countertop again as his tip rubs against your entrance. Your coat his cock in such slickness, even you’re surprised at how much you leak onto him. You miss your husband. You need this bad, and so does he.
“Oh, and try to stay quiet, yeah?” He says with a push of his hips. The motion has him covering your mouth with his hand, shielding your moans quickly. “The baby is still sleeping.”
His dick slips past your folds so smoothly, it has you gasping for breath at how good it feels. It’s nothing like the last time. He’s gentler, but still so so big, he fills you up just right.
“Fuck,” he whispers against your neck once he sheathes himself fully inside of you. The man behind you stills, completely overwhelmed with the feeling of you. He, too feels like he’s had to relearn sex all over again. How to please you right now that your body has changed, how to make sure that you are comfortable with his pace and size. You two haven’t had sex like this in so long, he feels overwhelmed when you feel almost too good for him to control. A part of him is embarrassed by how quickly he thinks he’s going to last. 
“How are you still so tight, hm?” he asks with a firm grip on your hip. “Y-You okay?”
You can only nod, pushing your hips down against him. The motion forces him further into you, to which both of you grunt at the feeling.
Testingly, Jungkook pulls out slowly, before pushing back into you a little quicker than before. You coat him generously, creating a motion that makes it easy for him to repeat. 
He develops a pace, fucking you against the kitchen countertop with your juices leaking all over his cock and down your thighs. The stove is on and your baby still sleeps; there are uncut vegetables in front of you and your husband still wears his work shirt. But he fucks you as if none of that matters. As if his only priority is to make sure you feel good, to let yourself go as he fuck you deep and just how you like it. 
His hand comes off from your mouth and settles on your hip. His other hand wraps around your front, holding you impossibly close against his body.
You moan softly when he bends you over slightly against the countertop, the new angle making it hard for you to stay quiet. But you push your hips against him anyway, telling him without words to go deeper.
The action causes him to moan, following your request with a snap of his hips.
“You like it that much, hm?” He grunts, cock ramming into you. “Like it when I knock you up good?”
“Y-Yes!” You whisper. “I love it so much, Koo.”
“Y-yeah?” He leans over you. A tattooed hand cups over yours, palm embracing the back of your hand as he intertwines his fingers with yours. “Gonna let me do it again?”
“Mmhm,” you squeeze his fingers. “As many times as y-you want.”
“A-Ah,” he pants, mind going into a frenzy over your words. The fact that he is yours, that you are his. That only he can hear you say that. That only he can make you feel this good. That only he has the privilege of calling you his wife. It makes his heart warm and his cock twitch. 
“God, I’m going to ruin you if you say things like that, Y/n,” he warns. But you are relentless, leaning your head back on his shoulder, giving yourself to him further. 
“W-Want you to,” you whimper. “I love you.” 
Your legs shake, completely weak from your past orgasm and your new one forming at the pit of your stomach. His cock makes you feel so full, like you’re stretched to the max capacity as he fucks you good. You know he’s close when his dick twitches inside of you after your words, which only encourages you to gain some strength and begin fucking yourself back on his cock.
“Mm, fuck,” he grips your hips tightly. “M’ gonna cum.”
He quickly reaches around you again, drawing infinities over your clit with his middle finger. His eyes roll back as your cunt naturally tightens at the feeling. Your hips jolt and the knots in your tummy slowly start to unravel themselves onto his dick as you come undone. Just as he had promised, with a final twitch, he’s cumming inside of you with hot, thick ropes filling you up with whispered exhales of your name on his lips.
He lets the two of you catch your breath, his forehead resting on your shoulder before he’s pulling out, shared cum leaking down your thighs and onto the floor. Quickly, he grabs a paper towel from the roll next to the stove and cleans you up a little.
With gentle hands, he helps you back into your sweats before he helps himself into his boxers. He still lingers behind you when he reaches a hand around you and turns the stove on a higher setting once again. 
You turn around, wrapping your hands around his neck as you pull him in for a much-needed kiss. “I love you,” you whisper against him again. His hair falls onto your skin, dark locks intertangling with yours as his fingers come up to hold your face against his. Soft lips sear over yours, telling you things that simply cannot be put into words. 
“I love you, too,” he brushes his nose against yours. “Was that okay? I didn’t hurt you?”
You pause, looking up at his dilated pupils. He looks at you like you're his world; like he's given you his heart with the full intent of never receiving it back from you. You nod, kissing him softly again. 
“You should probably wake up your son now,” you poke his cheek.
Looking at the time on the microwave, he snaps out of his daze. “Oh fuck,” he says as his fingers leave your side. You watch him leave you with a chuckle, turning back to your pasta wondering how in the world you go so lucky to marry and mother a kid to this man. You’d truly give him anything he wanted. 
***
[Bonus]
With gentle hands, so big against his baby’s frame, he picks Jaemun up in his arms, holding him against his chest. His dinosaur blanket swaddles him softly, and Jungkook does his best to make sure he’s correctly supported and held despite the extra fabric over his small frame. 
Jaemun stirs, and Jungkook places a soft kiss on his tiny head before he gets the chance to freak out and cry. The baby seems to know exactly who is holding him, and he nearly falls back asleep at the familiarity of his father’s arms. But Jungkook bounces him against his chest softly, slowly waking him up for dinnertime.
He makes his way over to you, making unnecessary airplane noises, from what you assume is Jungkook pretending to be an airplane and his son the passenger.
“You know, babies can’t laugh until they’re about 4 months,” you shake your head with a laugh.
“False,” your husband comes behind you again. “I swear he’s laughed before.”
You chuckle, taking the pan off the stove and pouring the insides into a strainer. Just the noodles are left in the strainer now, and you realize that you haven’t thought past the part of boiling the noodles. You ignore that you have no idea what kind of pasta you’re making when Jungkook rests himself against the kitchen island. 
Jaemun catches sight of you, and his arm reaches for you in Jungkook’s hold. You come over, giving him a kiss on the forehead before kissing your husband.
“Were you serious?” your husband asks you suddenly. 
“About?” you raise your eyebrow. 
“You know,” he gulps, holding Jaemun a little tighter. He rests against Jungkook's shoulder, his eyes tempting to fall back asleep again. “More kids.” 
You raise both your eyebrows again, looking at him as if he was serious. His heart beats faster when he realizes what you’re thinking, quickly rephrasing himself. 
“N-Not now, of course,” he gulps. 
You turn around, opening the fridge for some milk for Jaemun as you listen to him. You take out a pot, take the cased breast milk from earlier, and pour it in, turning on the stove afterward. 
“I just mean, like, in the future,” he explains.
There’s a long pause as you wait for the pot to heat up enough. The man behind you is weak, and you don’t know if you want to be mean and give him the blunt answer, or soften the blow. Watching how he cradles your son makes you want to go with the first choice. 
“Don’t you worry Jeon,” you start, as you stir the contents in the pot. You can hear him gulp behind you. “I planned on giving you as many babies as you want. But at least wait until Jaemun is in pre-school or something. I don’t think I can handle two infants at once.” 
You hear little from him at your answer, leaving you smirking knowing full well that you put the man behind you in a frenzy imagining the future you just laid out for him.
***
[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2023]
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creatingnikki · 4 months
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another year is ending and I want you to know that it is okay if you:
have not healed from the things that happened/did not happen from six months ago. just because the year is ending it does not mean your grief is too.
don't have any "fun" NYE plans to ring in the new year. this life is yours to live across days and months and years, and you can celebrate days other than the ones heavily marketed and shoved down your throat to shroud you in severe FOMO.
have no resolutions or goals for 2024 laid out in elaborate lists or shared on social media or with your friends. you are braving through this life trying to do your best every day and hold the fort and so of course you know, deep down you know what is needed from you for you going forward and of course you are going to work in that direction. good luck love.
have not become a "better" version of yourself by any of the tangible or conventional measures. that kind of bettering is mostly to serve others, not yourself.
are not happy with yourself/your life as it is now. you're a work-in-progress, remember? and if you're progressing in a direction you do not like, then it's time to change the blueprints and the strategy.
take time off social media around this time to protect your mental health and whatever little joy you have managed to keep.
don't want to spend too much time reflecting on how this past year went and doing various forms of 2023-wrapped. again, it's your life. you can also revisit this year in memories and pictures and feelings whenever you'd like. it's not like you don't still visit 2012, 2017, and 2022, right?
feel disconnected from your friends, family, lover. I know this is "ideally" a time to be celebrated with your loved ones. but life is not ideal, is it? it's just life. and if right now you are not feeling the love, the joy, or just don't have the headspace or social energy to engage , that's alright.
are finding comfort in simpler things like a TV show from the 90s or that book you first read at sixteen or that slice of strawberry cake or a random post like this you come across.
don't feel hopeful, encouraged, or excited for 2024. given everything that's happened in the last couple of years, on the macro and micro level, it's only natural for you to feel weary as well as wary. when the good things happen, when the healing happens, when things begin working in your favour over time, you will automatically feel all those things. it's okay if until then you choose to be neutral.
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blckbrrybasket · 2 months
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ᯓ★ 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬
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MDNI
SFW
- King of telling the other soldiers of 141 to “knock it off.” They never do.
- Price sees Gaz, Soap, and Ghost as his boys but is shocked off of his chair when they view him even remotely as a father figure.
- No one has ever had to check if he was alive when asleep because he snores like he’s being exorcised.
- Used to be a boy scout and NEVER lets 141 forget it. He prides himself on his knotting skills. If you ask about it you’re in for a two hour long lecture.
- Had a punk phase when he was younger, like Soap. When he was a teen he hated all authority. When he sees old pictures of himself he cringes at the hairstyles, but not at his rebelliousness.
- During a mission Price took a cut to the face and had to shave his mutton chops to get stitches. He had an existential crisis. Afterwards he swore if it ever happened again nature could take its course instead of him shaving again.
- Knows slang from Gaz and Soap so he can follow along enough to understand half the shit they say. When they yap back and forth he heavily sighs and covers his face.
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SFW (serious)
- Wants to badly to be a family man, but he would never have kids to leave them while deployed. His own family has passed on or moved away. There’s a reason why he invites Ghost over during the holidays.
- Price dreads the day he has to bury one of his boys. Loses sleep over the thought, gets upset if the prospect of them dying is ever mentioned. Lost himself a bit when Soap died. All he could think about is that it was his fault Soap died. It can’t happen again. He wouldn’t let it.
- Absolutely would not want a partner to ‘kiss his boot’ so to speak. He views partnership as equality. If you’re unwell and can only give 40% to help with chores or such he’ll give 60%, but when you’re doing okay and he’s unwell he wants the same reciprocation.
- I think Price personally doesn’t like therapy for himself. He understands the importance of it, but doesn’t want to attend it knowing that once he shares a bit a dam will break and everything will resurface in his memory.
- Price forgets sometimes what it’s like to be a kid, but he sees a lot of his younger self in Gaz. Gaz wants to be more like Price but Price wants Gaz to be better than him. He hopes to whatever god there is that Gaz is a better man than me. Price is a good man but he has a hard time viewing himself as such.
- During a break up or if someone rejects price he accepts it pretty easily as he sees its already over if they’re rejecting him. He doesn’t want to have to fight for someone to love him. He still wonders every now and again what he did wrong.
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NSFW
- Price gets off at you receiving the best pleasure you can. Anything you want within reason he’ll do. It isn’t a problem for him to give up control. To him it’s never about control, it’s about you enjoying yourself.
- If you thought Ghost was private Price is another level. Ghost lets things sleep here and there, but Price was never one to kiss and tell.
- Price is a gentleman who takes you out for dinner then has you for dessert.
- He knows what he’s doing and he knows what his voice does to you. Price will purposely lower his voice when talking with you just to see your thighs squeeze together. “What was that sweetheart?” As if he hadn’t sat there for a good minute thinking of the best innuendo to say.
- Breeding kink. AMAB or AFAB Price will talk his shit when pounding into you. He would never intentionally get you pregnant, even if the thought overwhelms his senses.
- His favorite body part of you is your back. Price loves running his hands over the skin as he grinds into you from behind. Every now and again he gets lost in his thoughts and starts massaging the tension from your shoulders while his cock released the tension from below.
- So damn cheeky. Price has his own streak of not following rules, you can’t expect him not to tease you. He isn’t horrible, but he would pull you onto his lap to slowly make out keeping the same pace and holding your hips still so you can’t grind. “What?” He chuckles against your lips. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
- Takes aftercare so seriously. Step by step methodical treatment, but it doesn’t seem cold at all. Every action is filled with care. He’s a man of habit and makes sure he checks every box in making sure you’re taken care of. It’s sweet!
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ms-demeanor · 2 months
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Hello,Do you have any tips for recovering from internet brain rot? It's like my patience has dried up and if there's a huge amount of text (even about topics I'm very interested in) that I have to read, I get annoyed and just don't interact with the material at all.
I have multiple tips!
TL;DR (Because of course I generated a wall of text): Take a break from the internet, create a schedule for getting yourself used to reading longer texts, take breaks while reading, and perhaps reconsider how you interact with The Internet and the world in general.
Here are the basic "to reduce the brain rot just don't interact" tips:
Take a break. Give yourself time off from The Internet (for these purposes The Internet is the social media industrial complex; clickbait news, recommended videos, social media sites, etc. You don't have to totally check out of email or your local news site, just get away from the huge time sucks). I'd say to take at least one day a week where you're online for less than an hour a day, and to maybe work up to doing a week-long break from whatever the main agents of rot are.
Once you've identified the main agents of rot, give yourself a time limit or set up rules for yourself. I don't let myself look at social media in bed, for instance; no staying up late on my phone, no scrolling before I get up and start my day. I don't give myself a strict time limit anymore, but for a while there I was very firm about "you only get to go online 4 hours a day" with myself.
Don't comment (or at least only share the things you really want to share). If you feel the need to argue, or if you feel pressured into sharing something, don't. Step back, maybe even open the post in a new tab or send it to yourself, and come back later. If you've been thinking about it and have decided it IS something you care enough to talk about, share it. If you look at the tab and feel stressed out or still feel reactive, close the tab and walk away.
Go out and interact with the real world in a non-work capacity for a few hours a week; take walks or go shopping or go out and take pictures of insects. Touch grass so that The Internet is not the only thing you're doing with your downtime.
Here are the "work on reading longer texts specifically" tips:
Set a reading goal for yourself. Maybe you want to read one New Yorker article a week, maybe you want to read all the way through news articles, maybe you want to read novels like you used to in high school. Figure out what your actual goal is and articulate that goal to yourself.
Set up a practice schedule and gradually increase the amount of time you're reading. Don't go from short tumblr posts to a novella, go from short tumblr posts to slightly longer news articles, then to slightly longer essays, then to a novella. You can do this in literal paragraphs if you want to - maybe your goal for your first day is to read five paragraphs in a row, and the second day is seven, and the third day is ten, etc, until you are comfortably reading for longer amounts of time without counting paragraphs. (Try this with books from gutenberg.org; read a classic you haven't read a few paragraphs at a time and if you find yourself going over your paragraph count, let yourself run with it. If you finish a book, good for you, find another one and start again.)
Set up a maintenance schedule. If your goal is to read longer news pieces, try to read a longer piece every week and try to read to the end of every news article you open. If your goal is to read novels or longer nonfiction, try to read a book a month (maybe setting aside dedicated time each week to read, maybe Thursday evenings are book time now). If you find yourself falling back into old habits, take a break from The Internet and do some more rigorous practice for a while.
If you find yourself getting frustrated while you are reading you can also take a break! Read until you get frustrated and then *instead of switching to a different page or closing the article* close your eyes or look out the window or away from the screen for thirty seconds (count 'em! count out the time in your head) and then continue reading. You can also take a longer pause and sit and think about why you're getting frustrated. Is it the subject matter? Is it just looking at this text for longer than a couple minutes (if you are experiencing FOMO because you're reading for another few minutes instead of scrolling, the harder tips at the bottom are going to be important to you)? Are you comfortable? Are you reading this text to procrastinate from something and the procrastination is making you nervous? Are you trying to read to the bottom of your dash and reading a long post is taking up more time than you want while scrolling? Are you bored? Genuinely and very seriously: are your eyes straining and does your head hurt (if this is the case when is the last time you had your eyes checked or your glasses prescription updated)?
Here are the much harder "examine yourself and reassess your reactions to things" tips:
Work on re-training your attention span.
Identify something that you enjoy and find deeply engaging, and schedule some dedicated time for that thing. Set a literal timer (it can be a short amount of time at first) and sit down and do the thing without switching to a different website or opening up an app on your phone. This can be re-reading or watching a couple episodes of a show you like or listening to your favorite album while you sit down and draw. What's important is to spend a longer time focusing on doing something you DO like before attempting to spend a longer time focusing on something you DON'T like.
When you're starting on things you DON'T like, start with things you mildly don't like, or that feel tedious but aren't actually unpleasant. One way I do this is by transcribing poetry; I look up poems that I connect to and I transcribe them into a notebook that I have for that purpose. I enjoy having the finished product, but I don't enjoy the process, so it takes some effort to stick with it. Maybe there is a boring book you have been trying to get through, maybe you need to detail your car, maybe you've been trying to take up embroidery - these are good things to make yourself pay attention to (having music or a podcast on can help, but avoid watching videos or opening social apps)
When you're okay at that kind of thing (doing something not actively unpleasant) work on your attention span for things you ACTIVELY don't like. I don't think you should be a masochist about this, but you should work on being okay with doing unpleasant things for a sustained period of time. All of us have to do unpleasant stuff sometimes, and it's better to be able to pay attention to it for an hour at a time than it is to put it off forever.
This leads into the next Big Tip which is:
Work on being less reactive
Find something that you dislike; I'm going to use conservative talk radio as my example.
Expose yourself to the disliked thing for short periods of time (under ten minutes, maybe under five minutes).
Work on moderating your emotions during the time spent exposed to the disliked thing. If it makes you angry, work on intellectualizing the anger without becoming agitated by it. If it makes you sad, work on accepting that sadness without letting it drag down your mood. This isn't precisely about becoming numb to stimuli, but it is about being more in control of how your emotional reactions impact you.
Analyze the disliked thing. Why does it make you angry? Is that on purpose by the creator of the thing? Would it make someone else angry in the same way? How would you explain the anger to a neutral third party?
Consider responding instead of reacting. Let's say you're seeing a lot of very sad and upsetting things online and it's making you sad and upsetting you. You re-share these things because you don't feel like there's anything else you can do or you get angry when you see people sharing incorrect information, perhaps you argue with people about this. Now try looking at the upsetting things through the lens of point number four. This has upset you; how has it upset you? And once you've thought about how it upset you and have articulated that to yourself, find out what you can DO. I cannot make conservative talk radio go off the air, but I can support the groups harmed by conservative talk radio; thus there is no point in me getting upset and angry about conservative talk radio when I could be helping the people they target instead.
And that gets us to the last big tip which is:
Ask yourself if you are spending your time in a way that is enjoyable and edifying.
We all have limited time in our days and limited time in our lives. If you are finding yourself frequently frustrated online, it's a good time to consider whether you want to be spending so much time online.
If you feel like The Internet has become a rat race in which you can't read more than a few paragraphs without getting frustrated, there's a good chance that not only are you spending too much time on The Internet, but you're also spending it on doing things that you don't particularly like.
A realization like yours, Anon, that you are getting frustrated with any longer texts, can actually be really helpful because it provides a good opportunity to look at what you're engaging with and consider the questions:
Is this something I enjoy?
Do I feel good when I do this thing?
And that's a great way to figure out how to get rid of things that are leading to your background frustration. Maybe that looks like paring down the list of blogs you follow, maybe that looks like unsubscribing from some youtubers and podcasts, maybe that looks like uninstalling apps, maybe that looks like blocking a whole bunch of people and terms on your socials.
I don't think that everything we do has to help us grow as a person or expand our consciousness or anything like that, but I do think it's important to prioritize doing things that you like and doing things that you feel good about.
Like, I'm not doing something *wrong* if I spend an afternoon on Youtube watching drama channels every once in a while, but if I come out of a few afternoons of watching youtube drama channels feeling restless and anxious and like I wasted my time - even if I enjoyed myself while I was watching - it's probably a good idea for me to take a break from drama channels and see if there's something I can do instead that will make me feel better.
ALSO, A NOTE:
You are an animal that requires significant enrichment in your enclosure.
Think about tigers. Tigers in captivity are going to be excited to get high-value treats for any reason. They will eat and enjoy the treats. But if a tiger in captivity is only given the treats and never given any other form of activity to engage with, it is not going to be a happy tiger. If you start putting their treats in a pumpkin or a puzzle feeder or giving them toys to play with, that is going to be a much happier tiger.
Please give your brain things to play with that are more than just treats (though it does need some treats!). Make yourself a happy tiger. Your brain need a puzzle feeder, not a treat button.
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gtgbabie0 · 1 year
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can i request a leon x reader, where leon takes polaroid pictures of reader and keeps some in him wallet. fluff or nsfw you pick 💕
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Polaroids
{Leon keeps Polaroids of you}
This has been eating at my mind, I need him so bad!!
!18!
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Leon isn’t joking when he says he loves you from every and any angle, and he certainly wasn’t joking when he asks to take pictures of you, very raunchy pictures, for his eyes only because god knows Leon Kennedy doesn’t share especially when it comes to you.
That’s why you let him because you know for a fact they won’t be seen by anyone but him and because the idea excites you more than you care to admit.
“Fuck- such a pretty girl” You can hear the machinery in the Polaroid as it pushes out another picture, Leon’s free hand rubbing along your thigh, as you sit on his lap.
His fingers trace against the lace of your underwear, so delicately that you almost don’t even feel it, “Absolute Angel, my angel” he says noticing the way your hips grind against him in a desperate attempt to feel something, and you smile proudly when he lets out a shaky breath.
He loves how needy you’ve become, whining about how he’s ‘wearing too much’ as your hands grasp at the ends of his shirt urging him to take it off, but he’s quick to swat them away.
“Leon, take it off” you whine once more, fingers playing with the end of his shirt, it isn’t fair that he’s still clothed while you’re near enough naked sitting on top of him.
His hands continue to run along your thighs, “Such a needy thing” he says, leaning to press kisses to your neck a clash of teeth and tongue against the sensitive skin, and your hands thread through his hair urging him closer to you as he trails along your collar bones, and you can’t stop your hips from stuttering against his as his hand pushes against your lower back bringing you closer to him.
He pulls away, as he takes his shirt off and you watch how his muscles tense and move with the movement as he throws the fabric in the corner of the room, your hands instantly go for his stomach, gentle fingers tracing along his abs up to his chest, you notice the way his muscles tense at your delicate touch, Leon almost seems prideful at they way you gawk at him.
“Smile for me angel,” he says as he unclasps your bra, letting the straps fall down your shoulders, he points the camera to your chest, “Touch yourself baby” he prompts, watching as your hands squeeze at your boobs, he takes the picture, the dim flash lights the room for a second, and you hear him groan at the sight, as you once again grind against him and you can feel him underneath you.
Your fingers wrap around his wrist slowly guiding his hand towards your lap, he presses his fingers against the wet patch that stains your underwear, and he’s quick to move the camera to capture the sight, his finger circling your clit through your underwear, “Touch me Leon” you sigh and he goes dizzy with nothing but desperate want.
You honestly don’t really remember much, that was until today, so perhaps that’s why you almost have a heart attack when you hand Leon his wallet, the pictures of you tucked away in one of the pockets.
You gasp in complete shock, “What?” He chuckles at your expression, how your mouth is slightly agape with surprise, “You don’t like them?” He teases and you’re far too embarrassed to respond with some snarky comment.
“Leon, why do you have them there? I mean in your wallet of all places?” You ask, hand clasping over your mouth as you look down at the Polaroids of you, there’s one of just your chest your boobs on full display while you squeeze at them, and another, just your hips against his as you sit on his lap, and you can see how hard he is underneath you.
He laughs at your embarrassment, “So I don’t get bored at work” he whispers kissing your forehead, and you shake your head at the thought.
“God Leon- that’s so gross” you sigh, trying to ignore the way he’s looking at you.
“Oh yeah? Because I remember you taking this one” he says pulling out another picture, and your heart almost stops at the sight of your fingers knuckle deep inside your cunt, wearing one of Leon’s old shirts, and you close your eyes as the memory comes rushing back,
“That one is my personal favorite” he whispers pressing a kiss to your jaw and you go silent with shock, feeling very flushed, completely forgetting you had done that.
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l13 · 9 months
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I just saw someone ask if you write for MHA. And girlie. Holy fuck. All Might, like the man is built as fuck but also kind of a loser. If you get my drift? Like yeah he’s this awesome hero, but the man is old, alone and kinda a dork.
I wanna be the young thing that saunters into his life and rides him until he’s begging me to stop. Wanna take lunch to him at work, all cute and lovey and wifey, then lean in to let him know I’m not wearing panties but I do have a vibrator. That man would explode, in more ways than one, and be a constant blushing awkward mess.
Thoughts?
this is exactly how i picture all might as well! we can share him and then he could have 2 controversial young gfs<33
so sorry that this doesn't contain any actual smut tho:(
CW: NSFW 18+, MDNI!!!, f!reader, age gap, lazy ass writing, not proofread
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He's a dilf but he's the touch-starved kind, the 'i haven't fucked someone in a long time' type, the one that you'll make a pussy enthusiast in just a couple of weeks, type<3
'cause at first he'd be reluctant y'know. Not only were you younger, but you were soooo out of his league (or so he thought). The prettiest thing he'd ever seen, really. And when you bluntly told him that you're interested in getting to know him better, he'd frowned a bit. He wanted to outright laugh at your words, but he didn't want to seem rude.
Poor man thought you were making fun of him so he tried to let you down gently, saying smth like “If it weren't for the age gap..” “You'll find someone younger, someone better, I'm sure.” and you'd faltered, apologizing for bothering him and scurrying off, embarrassed that you'd misjudged the situation
but then you kept running into him at your favorite coffee shop, politely engaging in small talk every time, and one day you didn't fail to notice how his gaze on you, lingered. How his eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips, down to your cleavage, and back up again. It was so quick that you thought your mind was playing tricks on you but then he cleared his throat hurriedly, his adam's apple bobbing with the movement, and you knew.
“Say.. y'wanna sit with me for a bit?" second time's the charm right?
You watched as his eyes widened slightly, “Well, I was- I'm actually busy right now-”
“Just twenty minutes, I promise,”
And Yagi quickly realized that he couldn't say no to you. So he gave a small nod, his eyes crinkling as he smiled softly, “Twenty minutes,”
He never in his life thought he was going to be put in this situation, and looking back at it, he'd never be able to prevent it anyway. Because just after 10 minutes of you sitting and laughing at his stupid jokes, he'd felt a nudge just under his knee, and he'd pulled his leg back instinctively, not being able to drag his gaze from the way your eyebrows furrowed prettily, “What's wrong?”
He shook his head, chuckling at his pathetic behavior “It's-” but then as he glanced under the table he saw your bare foot, save for the white stockings you wore, inching closer to his shin, and he snapped his eyes to yours, a shiver running down his back when he saw the look in your eyes- the mock concern masking the devilish glint quite well. “..nothing. Nothing's wrong I-” he trailed off as he felt your foot trailing up higher and Jesus Christ- when did you even take off your shoes?
Yagi let out another strained chuckle, looking around the small cafe, when he felt your foot on his plush thigh, making him jump. His hand shot down to grasp your foot reflexively, his jaw clenching as he locked eyes with you again. “What do you think you're doing?” he'd leaned a bit over the table to whisper to you, and you did the same, your head lazily resting on the palm of your hand as you pouted, “Let go of me, Yagi.”
He did as he was told immediately, and a part of him felt guilty, even when he'd done nothing wrong. “I'm sorry- but I just-”
Of course you shouldn't have let her go, you idiot. Did you think she was just gonna stop? He chides himself in his head because he can't do anything else. Because the foot that's pressing against his hard cock is clouding his judgement and he can't think of something to do.
A grunt escapes him when you rub him slightly over his dress pants, his hand coming up to cover his mouth, eyes still locked on yours. “You planned this didn't you?” you smile at that, your pretty lips closing around the straw of your drink as you take a sip, your foot pressing against his bulge harder.
Your gaze was trained on his hand, the one that was clutching the table with all its might (haha, get it), and you followed along the veins of his hand, up his forearms, to the point where they got lost under his shirt, the sleeves rolled up at his elbows. You licked your lips as you ran your eyes over his arms next, eyes hooded at the way the material of his shirt hugged his taut muscles. Finally, you looked up at him, enjoying the droplet of sweat falling down his temple, “I don't know what you mean,”
And Yagi knew he was fucked.
 ‹𝟹
Months later, you saunter over to Yagi’s office, pretty summer dress swirling as you walk, Yagi's lunch packed with a cute little bow on top, in hand. You knock on his door, not waiting for him to answer before you’re pulling the door open, walking in and pushing it closed behind you. Yagi’s eyes snap to your figure, one eyebrow raised, his gaze immediately softening once he realizes who you are, “Princess? What are you doing here?” 
You grin at him giddily, walking closer to his desk as he takes off his glasses running a hand down his face before he’s looking up at you with tired eyes- the corner of his lips quirking up despite his exhaustion.
“Brought you lunch-” his heart swells in his chest, pushing his chair back as he stands and walks around the table to stand in front of you, bending down to give your lips the softest kiss, his hand caressing your cheek. “You didn’t have to, pretty.”
“I wanted to. Besides, I missed you so much Toshi,” he coos down at your words and plants another kiss on your forehead, “I know sweetie, ‘m gonna be home in a few hours, yeah? Then I’ll be all yours,”
“But I need you, now.” you pout, hands coming up to rest on his pecs, fingers sliding under the collar of his shirt to play with his blond chest hairs, and you bite back a smile at the tiniest shiver he gives. “Sweetheart..” before he can say anything else you’re clutching his hand and pulling him with you, pushing him back to sit on his office chair again, and he’s looking up at you, bewildered.
Then you’re trailing a hand from your thigh up to your belly, only you’re slowly lifting your dress as you go. His jaw goes slack once his eyes are met with your bare, glistening pussy, his neck turning red. You whimper, circling your hips around nothing, dropping your other hand to rub two fingers aaall over your folds, gathering up your slick on your fingers. “See? Told you I need you,”
And Yagi can't complain when you push your wet fingers in his mouth, his moan getting muffled as he stares at you with half lidded eyes, his already hard cock twitching at the sight of you, all pretty and ready for him<3
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2023 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.
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damazcuz · 2 years
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One more question(for now) why do people on tumblr use tags to talk #like this #about whatever they think of the post, instead of just commenting on the reblog😭 Is there an etiquette I'm missing?
short answer: yes.
long answer, there is an etiquette to it, and I think it's a longstanding thing that just ended up ingrained in a lot of users, which comes off as cold/shy/outlandish or maybe even standoffish to people from other sites and apps. there's no be-all end-all of how to act online or on here but i think in terms of most* people (*speaking broadly, making this up) who've used tumblr for a while it feels like this:
tumblr is a theater, the dashboard is a stage, each post is a performance. (a joke, a dramatic act, a story, a movie, a picture, etc.) you have a variety of ways to interact with the performance, but some of them are going to be more frowned upon--based purely on how the long standing visitors of the theater are used to acting, honestly.
likes are a polite applause, but they don't show anyone outside of the theater that you enjoyed yourself, or what you enjoyed. the performer appreciates the applause but does not garner any new viewers when you only like a post, btw.
silent reblogs mean you exit the theater with merch or a leaflet and go show it to other people. look what i saw on the stage, don't you want to see it too. this shows the performance to a new variety of viewers, who might then also show it to others.
replies and reblogs with content are often seen as """"rude"""" because they're like standing up at the end of the performance and loudly saying "that was okay but I think MY take on things makes it just a BIT better." people are more forgiving of this when it's something universally true or acceptable, or when it's very funny. if it's not (and even if it is, sometimes,) there'll potentially be a reblog down the line making fun of it (and this is another person in the theater standing up and making a fart noise, regardless of how tasteless or rude.) it's never actually "wrong" to add comments on a reblog unless you're being intentionally hurtful, and it's normal to add commentary to a friend's post, but even then, people seeing this from the outside may see that as obnoxious and impolite and try to call you on it anyway. (people are very weird about enforcing what they see as a universal rule of etiquette, when this is admittedly the only site where you'll be punished for adding to the discussion.)
and again, this is an absolutely arbitrary rule because what one person finds universally true and hilarious, another will find trite and stupid and too niche. the polite thing to do in the case of the latter is just reblog from further up the chain than the commenter, but people aren't always nice when they're annoyed.
getting to your actual question now, comments in the tags are a way to leave remarks that you DON'T want to shout to the whole theater. these are you whispering to yourself or your friend, or writing in a guestbook on the way out. people can see/hear it if they go looking for it, but you're not shouting over the performance to get your piece out. it's polite because it's unobstructive and doesn't take up space, and if your tags don't make sense to someone else or seem too niche, they don't have to share the post with your commentary attached.
adjacent to this, "peer review" or screenshotting someone's tags to insert them in the post is like if you did whisper to your friend, then your friend wrote your comments on a whiteboard and held it up for others to see. as this is a form of commentary within the reblog, it's again subject to an arbitrary universal/niche rule. just because a tag gets peer reviewed doesn't mean it's beyond reproach by strangers.
also in line with this general line of thought experiment, blazing a post means that between acts, you run up on the stage and start shouting your piece. it is, once again, going to be more acceptable to strangers to see you do this if it's something universally funny, true, or cute. this is why niche fandom posts, vent posts, and self promotions get ignored or booed down, while pet birthday photos and silly jokes get blazed and get a lot of notes regardless.
lastly, a kungpowpenis is when twelve+ individuals from the audience get up and beat the shit out of the person performing on stage and leave their corpse on display in the town square.
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gatorbites-imagines · 6 months
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Kinktober day 27
Bruce Wayne + cock cages
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Schools killing me, I am so tired rn 👍
Kinktober 2023 masterlist
Bruce stood amongst the many attendees of whatever Gala it was he was taking part in. It was one of many he had to attend during this time of year, so many people to greet and so many hands to shake, as surface level conversations passed from person to person, in some weak attempt at comradery.
But only about half his mind was on the Gala and people around him, instead he was more deeply focused on the metal constraint weighing on his crotch. You two hadn’t seen each other for a few weeks, both busy with your work, as heroes and during the day.
Bruce wasn’t sure what had come over him, but around halfway through the third week he had started sending you pictures and texts that he knew would get in trouble, but he couldn’t help himself. From pictures of him in just his tight black briefs, to him in even less splayed out on the deep red silk sheets of his bed. Every picture he took was planned and posed just right, showing off just what he knew got you going.
It awoke some giddy almost bratty part of him when you texted him back warning him about punishment, part of himself that Bruce thought didn’t exist anymore at his older age, but you lived to prove him wrong. When you finally reunited again, you gripped onto his shirt and pulled him to his bedroom, Bruce almost stumbling along after you as excitement and arousal bubbled in his gut.
But as you kissed and licked and bit, never once did you actually grab his cock. Even as you sat him in your lap and pinched and twisted at his nipples, or sucked hickeys on his thick pecs, even as he groaned and whined, his hips lifting off the bed in search of any semblance of friction.
Instead, you just kept teasing him until he was a dripping wet mess, the crotch of his boxers and slacks wet and sticky to the touch. But in the end, you didn’t bring him any type of completion, just laying down on the bed beside him and pulling out your phone, scrolling through different work emails or notifications.
Bruce found himself feeling almost wild as he scrambled into your lap, trying to gain your attention as he gripped onto your chest, his blue eyes misty and lip red from all the biting he had done to it. As he tried to grind against you, you wound your arm around him and pulled him down against you, letting out a displeased noise that had him going slack almost immediately.
This kept up for a few more days, you teasing him and kissing him, but never touching him where he wanted you the most. The closest Bruce got to it was when you pressed up against his back and rolled your hips into his ass as he was working on the batcomputer, but the touch was gone as quickly as it came, leaving him aching even more than before.
The lead to this night, as he stood getting ready for yet another gala he had to attend. As he did his tie, you came up behind him and wound your arms around his waist, the small touch almost having Bruce keening and buckling at the knees from the gut burning need he had for you and your touch.
“I have a way we can end this little game, what do you say?” you mutter against his neck, Bruce finding himself nodding before he even heard what you had to say. But it had been weeks apart, and now almost a week of you teasing him any chance you got. He knew it was his own fault for teasing and sending those pictures, but just the thought of going another day almost had him in tears.
That’s how he found himself on the bed, an ice-cold rag on his hard cock as you dug through the drawers beside your shared bed. Bruce had gasped as you placed the rag on his dick, but the metallic clinks of the item you were messing with made it obvious what you had in mind. Bruce found himself gulping nervously as he caught sight of the cage, made of stainless steel and custom made for his specific size and needs.
His legs shivered as you removed the rag and got to work securing the cage around his cock, the coldness keeping him from getting hard immediately again, and when he could feel the heat returning the padlock of the cage snapped shut. Bruce exhaled shakily as you wound the kay around your neck, placing an almost loving kiss against his tip through the cage.
He twitched and gasped as you patted his caged cock a few times as you got to your feet, the grin on your face a little cocky as you watched Batman himself writhing against the sheets. “Come on Love, we have a gala to go to” your voice as thick with want yet teasing as you stepped away from him, moving to get dressed up yourself.
Bruce needed a moment before he shakily got to his feet, tucking on the clothes needed. It was only experience that kept it hidden that he wasn’t feeling as even footed as usual, but your hand on his lower back kept him steady, even when your thumb rubbing against his lower back had him shiver softly.
Through the whole night he could feel his cock ache against the bars of his cage, trying again and again to get hard as the smallest touch from you set his senses alight. But no matter how hard he tried, it was impossible, and he could almost had cried as you finally left the Gala together.
As you got into the drivers’ seat of the car, Bruce took his spot in the passenger side, his hips softly rocking against his own wishes like his body just couldn’t take it anymore. A soft chuckle left you as you placed a hand on his thigh, your hand dangerously close to his still locked up cock as you drove back towards the manor, soft mutters of praise leaving you as Bruce tried to keep himself presentable. He knew from your praise that he had done good, he could only hope you would keep up your promise and finally touch him, whenever you decided to take off the cage, that was.
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thef1diary · 2 months
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Little Big Fan | Twelve
— Little Big Relationships
Series Masterlist
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wc: 2.1k
"Max? Isabella?" You called out as you entered your home, hearing nothing but silence in return.
As you continued walking inside, you heard some giggles coming from Isabella's room that were muffled because the door was closed.
Knocking once, you opened the door and were faced with an intriguing scene. They were sitting on a kiddy table, which was the perfect size for Isabella but too little for Max; however, he compromised by sitting half on the chair and half kneeling on the floor.
"Hold it like this, Maxy, your pinky has to point out," Isabella instructed while demonstrating it herself. You slapped your palm over your mouth to muffle a chuckle when you noticed the little teacups in their hands as Isabella attempted to teach Max how to act at a tea party.
"C'mon Maxy, stick your pinky out," you joked, instantly catching their attention. Isabella beamed at you, "mama, look," she gestured to the little setup they had going on. Max, however, froze in place but after a moment a small smile grew on his face as he purposely pointed his pinky outwards with an exaggerated motion.
"Join us, mama," Isabella suggested or more so instructed. You obliged, pulling the little chair closer to your daughter and pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before taking the teacup she held out for you.
"Did you know that Maxy has two cats, mama?" Isabella asked, a glimmer shining in her eyes at her words. Your daughter had always wanted a cat, but because the responsibility would be too much for her, you always refused or advised her to at least wait until she was older.
Nodding along, you looked at Max who had showed you many pictures of Jimmy and Sassy. "Yeah, when we go over to Max's house, we can see them okay?" You proposed, and Isabella glanced at Max for an answer, to which he replied, "Of course!"
While Isabella poured more pretend tea in your cup, your gaze met Max's, filled with a tad bit of vulnerability that neither of you no longer feared to share.
Max has spent the majority of his time in Monaco, or at least he used to, because he has been spending more time with you and Isabella in your home that he would normally spend in his apartment across the world. He'd rather have you than an empty apartment with no hesitation. But lately, he's been picturing his apartment filled with the sounds of your daughter's laughter as the three of you make a mess in the kitchen while attempting to bake.
He wasn't opposed to it at all, and a part of him knew that you would love the suggestion as well. However, your relationship with him is kept under wraps, with the only person you've told is your best friend. You don't necessarily want to keep it a secret, but the reason you are is quite obvious; your daughter.
Although Isabella has suspicions of Max's involvement in your day to day lives, she hasn't openly questioned it yet. The reality is, you don't know how to tell her you're in a relationship with Max since you're not sure how she'll react. A part of you believes it will elicit a positive response, but another half wonders if she would object to it.
You pushed your thoughts away to the back of your mind once Max broke eye contact with you since your daughter nudged him. Gesturing for him to come closer, Isabella whispered in his ear and you watched with a slight tilt of your head and a smile threatening to grow on your face.
Max nodded to her words, and Isabella looked at you with a smile she only uses when she wants something. "Mama?" she started.
"Yes, angel?" She glanced at Max for reassurance and when he nodded again, she spoke, "can Maxy stay over?"
You were taken aback by her words, especially with the thoughts that were running through your mind. "You mean a sleepover?"
Isabella nodded, "yes! We'll have so much fun, mama. We can play games, eat snacks, oh and I want Maxy to read my bedtime story to me too." You smiled as she listed out everything she wanted to do, knowing that she had already planned it earlier so it would be easier to convince you. However, she had no idea that you weren't opposed to the idea at all and needed no such convincing.
She looked at you with anticipation, her smile only growing wider when you nodded. "We can have a sleepover with Max."
She cheered, throwing her arms up and then wrapping them around Max. "Oh wait, I forgot something," she left the room in a hurry, leaving you and Max in confusion.
Max took that opportunity to lean over the table and press a kiss to your cheek. You threaded your fingers through his hair, resting it on the back of his head to pull him in for a proper kiss.
"How did it go?" He asked once he leaned back into the chair, almost falling backwards due to his weight. "I think I made a friend."
After your nap with Max yesterday, you awoke to a text from Emma asking if you wanted to meet for coffee. You decided to go after discussing with Max regarding the pros and cons of what could happen. The only drawback was that Emma was Tyler's girlfriend; otherwise, you wouldn't have any doubts about meeting her.
However, your decision to go meant you would have to leave Isabella in Max's care for a few hours. The only issue you faced was that if you didn't want your ex's partner to babysit your daughter, you shouldn't let your own boyfriend babysit Isabella either. It would be unfair to both of them.
Max, being Max, went right to Isabella and asked if she was comfortable with staying with him for a few hours, which she easily agreed to. He then gave you a smile that only meant one thing, "problem solved."
"The last time we met wasn't under the right circumstances, so I figured we should redo it," Emma stated as you sat down with your coffee at one of the few empty tables amid the many occupied ones.
"I agree. Also, I don't think I'll be able to thank you enough for what you did for my daughter that night." Emma shook her head, "no worries, I would do it all over again in a heartbeat," she said before adding, "not that I want her to have another allergic reaction."
The initial awkwardness of this friendly meeting stemmed from the individual who was the reason for the introduction between you two. However, the conversation evolved significantly after that.
"Oh, I have to ask, that guy you with at the hospital, are you dating him?" Emma asked, and you nodded. "We actually weren't dating then, but we are now."
She nodded along and just smiled while looking at you. Tilting your head, you asked, "why?"
"Nothing, it's just that it looked like you were together then, based on his actions and how worried he was for both you and Isabella," she explained, causing a slight blush to dust your cheeks. Max was always kind to you from the minute you met him, but learning that someone else had observed your relationship was slightly surprising.
"It's still new, I guess we're just figuring it out as we go, especially with Isabella around," you admitted openly, seeing no reason to hold back from her. You were cautious about Emma before seeing her today, but you realized there was no reason to be. She would easily become a good friend, and the fact that you knew her through Tyler would no longer matter.
"She doesn't know?" Emma inquired and hummed when you shook your head. "I don't mean to intrude, but how did you and Tyler tell her?" You asked, wanting some pointers on what to do, or even what you shouldn't do.
She scoffs, "it was probably the worst way ever, just casually dropping it in a conversation, good riddance though."
You had to hold back from wincing however you don't think you did a good job based on her reaction. "Yeah, it was odd, don't do that."
"Good riddance?" You asked, unsure of what she meant. "I broke up with him," she stated bluntly, taking you aback. "Oh." For a moment you were speechless, mainly to gauge Emma's reaction on the situation before you decide on saying anything.
She sighed, "you don't have to worry about saying the wrong thing, it was a long time coming."
You wanted to know more details, not because he was your ex and now hers too, but because Emma was now a friend. Without having to utter a word, she began to explain the reason.
"I was skeptical about dating him at first when he told me about Isabella, because I initially thought that his time and attention would be split between us," she started, and you nodded along.
"But, I didn't think that he wouldn't give either of us any time at all. He wasn't always like that, I wouldn't have fallen for him otherwise but he became too consumed in work."
"Arguments were inevitable, but I didn't think it would happen that often. Sometimes I would find Isabella sitting in her room with her eyes closed and hands covering her ears because of his words. That's when I realized that he wasn't worth my love and time, or even his daughter's," she finished and your heart hurt with the image of how Isabella used to spend so many of her days and nights at Tyler's house.
"I hope Isabella doesn't stay over at his anymore," Emma stated, but you quickly shook your head. "No, she hasn't stayed over after the allergy incident, plus she's said it herself that she doesn't want to anymore."
"Anyways, he is your ex for a reason and now he's also my ex, so here's to finding better men who are worth our time," Emma proposed, holding up her half empty coffee cup as if it were an alcoholic drink and you chuckled while agreeing with her.
"I think I already found mine," you shyly admitted. "And I am very happy for you!"
"I just don't know how to tell Bella about it," you stated, and she held up a finger to tell you to hold on as she quickly sipped on her drink. "Does he come around often?" Emma asked.
“Very often,” you chuckled. “And does she like having him around?” You thought about it for a second, recalling the latest moments you've shared together. "She does get very excited about it, never complained about having him around."
"Then you have nothing to worry about, as long as you sit down and explain it to her, I think she'll be fine. After all, she is your daughter, very kind and understanding," Emma concluded.
“So you want to tell Isabella?” Max asked after you gave him a summary of your conversations with Emma. You shrugged, “what do you think?”
“I’m okay with anything you choose to do, baby, we can wait or we can tell her now,” he stated. “I don’t want her to find out from someone else, especially since we’re going to the next race,” you reasoned.
Max’s eyes lit up, “you’re coming?” Chuckling, you nodded, “my boyfriend’s racing, I think I should be there to support him.”
Max didn’t hesitate to scoot his chair over towards you, “plus, there’s a chance that I might win my third championship at that race,” he added. Your jaw dropped, “what? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“Well, I didn’t want it to pressure you into travelling if you didn’t want to but I’m very glad you’re going to be there with me,” he pressed a quick kiss against your lips. “Max, have I told you how sweet you are?”
He hummed, “I think I can hear it again.”
Before you could utter a word, Isabella entered the room again, this time with a frown on her face. Max leaned away from you, trying to subtly move back.
“Angel, where did you go?” You asked, and invited her to sit in your lap which she easily agreed to.
“I went to find my teddy, but I think I left it at daddy’s,” she meekly responded. “Aw, it’s okay, we’ll get him back soon,” you suggested while brushing her hair out of her face with your fingers.
“But Mr. Bear will miss my tea party, mama, and he never missed it before,” she stressed. “We can host as many tea parties as you want when we find him,” Max suggested.
Isabella still had a frown on her face but she agreed with a small nod.
You glanced at Max, and with his reassurance, you began an important conversation with your daughter that could possibly change the trajectory of your relationship with Max.
Taglist: @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @wonnou @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @hockeyboysarehot @formulaal @namgification @tallrock35 @bloodyymaryyy @formulanni @ellouisa17 @phantomxoxo @samantha-chicago
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alwaysmoncheri · 2 months
Text
𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈 | 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫
summary: during your time at hogwarts, you and james dated months before he dated lily. but now, after graduation, you find yourself looking for him in every place and you have no idea he’s doing the same.
cw: fem!reader, mentions of alcohol, angst(lots of it), mentions of break-ups, james and reader lore, remus being a sweetheart as always, lightly proofread, 1.8k
a/n: i don’t have much of a plan for this series, so it’s sort of just going where it’s going. if you want to suggest anything i’m open to that! but anyways, i hope you enjoy! :)
<3
james is miserable. the moment he heard your voice through the phone, something within him stirred. all the built-up emotions connected to you are suddenly back in the forefront of his mind. his day was going fine, it was like any normal day hanging out at remus’s apartment, having a few drinks, and discussing their jobs. just moments ago, laughs were shared, drinks were spilled, and remus and sirius went to the kitchen to clean up and grab a few replacement drinks. nothing was out of the ordinary, that is until the phone rang and james mindlessly decided to pick up.
remus has always been a little wary of other people answering the phone when visiting him, but james hadn’t known why, until now. remus didn’t want james to know that you and him were still close and remus surely didn’t want to ruin any peace you had made with the brutal ending of your and james’s relationship with one single phonecall. unfortununatly, due to james’ stupidity and obliviousness, he messed it all up.
“finally! I thought you weren’t going to pick up,” your voice echos through the phone, progressively getting louder as you adjust the phone within your grip. james’s eyebrows furrow together as he recognizes your voice, and disbelief flows through him, “you won’t believe who I just spoke to, she–”
“y/n?” james interrupts and you stop midsentence. there’s nothing but silence on your end of the phone for a few seconds and james thinks that you’ve hung up, but you’re only momentarily frozen with shock and a rush of memories, “hello?”
“...james?” you whisper delicately as if you’re testing his name on your lips after not speaking it for the past couple of years, “why— what are you doing?” you finally ask, a slight stammer in your sentence, after another few seconds of silence. your urgent question makes him grimace, knowing that you don’t want to speak to him.
“i’m with remus and sirius.” james replies, and he mentally facepalms himself because of course he’s with his two best friends, why else would he be answering one of their apartment phones?
“oh.” you mumble, your response barely reaching james’s ear through the phone.
“so, how are you?” james finds himself asking, not wanting you to hang up just yet, but also not knowing what else to say.
“how am I? seriously?” you repeat, an incredulous laugh falling from your lips while you shake your head in bewilderment. james hasn’t changed a bit, still avoiding the conversation that you should be having, “i’m hanging up, james.”
“hold on—” james starts, his words urgent and desperate, practically pleading you to stay on the phone with him.
“do you need something from me?” you snap and james’s eyes widen with shock at your bitter tone.
“I just wanted to hear your voice again, lovely.” james admits, the term of endearment falling from his lips before he can stop it. he grimaces again, waiting to hear your presumably just as bitter response to his comment.
“still a charmer, i see.” you say and james can picture you rolling your eyes through the phone, there might even be a small smile threatening to curve at the corners of your lips.
“some things never change, I guess.” james responds with a hopeful smile on his face. he turns around and leans against the apartment wall, getting comfortable.
“yeah, I guess they don’t.” you agree. there’s a small pause before james hears you take a deep breath, “i’m good. i’ve been pretty good.” you say, finally answering his question from earlier.
“yeah?” james asks, his smile growing wider while crossing one heel over the other.
“look, can you tell remus I called?” you ask, hoping to end the conversation without too much damage left on your heart. james’s smile drops and you quickly backtrack, changing your mind about telling remus, “or maybe don’t even mention this at all. that’s probably better.”
“okay, yeah, I can do that.” james nods through the phone, no traces of the smile from earlier left upon his face because of your abrupt end to the conversation.
“goodbye james.” you say, and james hears a hint of sadness in your tone before the click of a button, indicating that you’ve hung up.
“bye.” james whispers to himself, placing the phone back on the way, feeling defeated and confused.
now, james is stiffly seated on the couch, a frown and a look of contemplation upon his face. he’s trying hard to forget the way the two of you broke up. he’s trying to forget the way you liked it when he loosely hugged your waist from behind, the way only he could smell your sweet perfume when he kissed along your neck, and how he only knew that you hated your laugh, but whenever you did, he would tell you how beautiful it was—you would never believe him, but he kept doing it anyway. he’s trying to forget every little detail about you, but that took years, and somehow, a single conversation was enough to bring it all back.
“what’s with the face, prongs?” sirius notices first, after he and remus come back from the kitchen, a couple more drinks in their hands.
“what?” nothing.” james says, snapping his gaze up to meet his two friends who come to sit beside him, eye watching him intently. sirius and remus share a glance, one of suspicion and one of concern and confusion.
“oh c’mon.” sirius prys, leaning forward to rest his elbow on his knee and his chin on his hand, a playful smile upon his lips, “we know you better than that.” james sends sirius a glare, causing sirius to lean back mouth agape in reaction to james’s bitter expression.
“I don’t think he wants to tell us.” remus says softly, hoping to avoid receiving the same treatment that james gave sirius. but sirius is undeterred, he crosses his arms and leans back against the couch, frustrated with james’s sudden attitude.
“no, no, tell us what’s wrong.” sirius urges, eyebrows raised, awaiting james’s next response.
“nothing is wrong,” james replies, not wanting to argue, but not wanting to share his previous encounter with you on the phone, “i’m fine.” he assures, and he watches out of the corner of his eye as remus shifts uncomfortably.
“oh ok.” sirius rolls his eyes before leaning forward to glance at remus on the other side of james, “he’s fine, did you hear, remus? he’s fine.” sirius repeats mockingly before scoffing quietly.
“would you just drop it?” james asks, raising his voice ever so slightly and turning to face his whole body toward sirius.
“I don’t think I will—”
“stop it, you are both incredibly stubborn.” remus interrupts, suddenly standing up, causing james and sirius to watch with shock at their friend’s actions, “I don’t know what happened in the two minutes that we were gone, but clearly something is wrong, james. but sirius you also need to know when to take a hint.”
“sorry.” james apologizes, hanging his head low with disappointment in himself.
“I appreciate that, but I think you should go home.” remus suggests, gathering a few empty beer cans off the floor and placing them on the coffee table, “we can do this another time.” james sighs deeply before standing, walking towards the front door and grabbing his coat on his way out. when the door closes, remus turns to sirius a concerned expression resting on his face.
“is he okay?” remus asks, and sirius scoffs, clearly offended that remus didn’t ask if he was okay first.
“how should I know, remus?” sirius asks bitterly, shrugging nonchalantly, as if the whole previous conversation didn’t happen, “we’re in the same boat here.” sirius adds, referring to what little they both know about james’s mood shift and how they were both together when it suddenly occurred.
“don’t do that.” remus pleads, feeling a pang of hurt in his chest as sirius refuses to meet his gaze, “if you want to be that way, then get out.”
sirius scoffs angrily, grabs his leather jacket and stomps out of the door. from outside the apartment james watches as he hops into his car, slams the door shut, and drives away in a flash. the feeling of guilt rushes through james’s chest knowing that he’s the reason for the ruined night and the upset feelings of his two best friends. james feels like his head is all messed up, not thinking straight about anything anymore. when he gets into his own car, he just sits there for a moment, thinking about all your car-involving fantasies you talked about when the two of you were together. you always said you wanted to be kissed in a car, but james never had the chance to make that wish come true. he wonders if it has now. james rests his head on the steering wheel for a split second before starting the engine and driving back to his own apartment.
when james arrives, he shrugs off his jacket and heads straight towards his bedroom. he instantly flips on the light and strides over to his dresser taking a quick glance at the framed picture of you and him neatly placed on the top. james sighs sadly before opening his drawers, digging through the miscellaneous items within, eventually finding a small stack of letters, each one addressed to him, from you. that’s how the two of you met. he wrote a letter with the intention of giving it to lily and left it underneath a log by black lake. james planned on luring lily to his favorite spot, knowing that if he gave her the letter outright, she would find it silly, but before he could, someone else found the letter, the person being you. and you didn’t find it silly at all. you found it quite endearing, the sweet words finding home within your heart. then, you wrote a letter back, left it in the same place and somehow, james found it. that tree by the lake became your spot as the two of you continued to write to each other. but eventually you started leaving your letters elsewhere, communicating these places with each letter sent. this went on for a few months in your sixth year. you and james weren’t good friends but you were closer in your earlier years at hogwarts, so when you finally revealed yourselves to each other at the very end of the year, he instantly asked you out on a date and you said yes.
james could’ve gotten rid of these letters because they only hold memories that hurt him, but it might hurt him even more if he did get rid of them. so, he keeps choosing to hold onto them, just like he keeps holding onto you. james takes a seat on the edge of his bed and reads through each of the letters, reminding himself of the locked up memories from years ago. as he reads yours, he doesn’t know that not too far from him, you’re lying in bed, doing the exact same.
<3
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thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!
tags: @annoyingmidgetwhowrites, @googie-jeon, @dreamsygirl, @vixparker, @enamoredwithbella
alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.
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blckbrrybasket · 2 months
Text
ᯓ★ 𝐆𝐚𝐳 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬
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SFW
- Gaz listens to Childish Gambino!
- Gaz LOVED scooby doo growing up and velma was his favorite.
- Gaz takes selfies or mirror pictures of himself but doesn’t send them to anyone. He keeps them as a confidence boost on his eyes only tab.
- Gaz LOVES reality TV. He can sit down and binge almost an entire season of some reality show. On leave when he isn’t catching up with people he’s catching up with what he missed on the bachelor.
- Gaz is an expert at finding out information and loves gossip if he isn’t the subject of it. Even if he is this man has so many comebacks stored up no one dares start a playful argument with him for fear of being ripped to shreds…except for Soap.
- Gaz likes to read and often shared recommendations with Ghost, they both like thrillers. Soap makes fun of them for it yet Gaz always shoots back with a variation of Soap not being able to read (Soap never learns and always goes to make a joke about it again)
- When Soap laughs at something immature Gaz tries to stand there like “🧍” and act mature, but the moment Soap lets out a hyena laugh/snorts or if Soap bumps into Gaz, Gaz loses it and starts laughing
- Gaz is the type of person to swat people or grab onto them when laughing really hard. He has almost peed himself when laughing.
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SFW (serious)
- If Gaz has a dream where it feels like he’s falling he shoots out of bed and panics. It’s one of the bigger lasting effects of him having fallen out of two helicopters. He still gets phantom pains on his body sometimes, but the biggest one is from the trauma of his harness catching him cutting into him.
- Gaz is super in tune with his emotions and is quite open minded. He’s generally flexible, aside from plans changing last minute.
- Going off of that one of Gaz’s biggest pet peeves are plans changing at the last minute. He and Soap have had countless arguments over Soap changing stuff at the last second.
- Gaz has OCD, i’m not sure who started this headcanon but I completely agree with it. If you look at him closely you can see him swiping his hands over his pants once, twice, three times. If someone interrupts his compulsion he has to takes deep breaths before restarting. Consequently he’ll randomly go silent when talking if he has to focus on finishing a compulsion.
- Gaz is a mama’s boy and was raised how to treat women respectfully. He can go from having a great relationship with someone but the moment they something bad about women he will never like them again. He’s a proud feminist!
- Has a thing about towels. Gaz can’t use them more than once or twice because he can practically imagine all the germs that are on the fabric. Even if he is 100% clean coming out of the shower it doesn’t get rid of the thought.
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NSFW
- Not vanilla, but not a huge freak.
- He’s usually up for trying something once to see if either of you like it. If not it’s no sweat off his back, at least he learned what you do and don’t like.
- There are lines he draws though. He doesn’t like anything that involve bodily fluids. Gaz prides himself on being a clean guy, but with his OCD (and kind of being a germaphobe) he can’t do it. As well as blood, to him he sees it enough on the battlefield, he wouldn’t want to see it on you. Gaz could only imagine if you were hurt.
- That’s not to say he doesn’t like a bit of man handling though. Gaz is a strong man and he knows it. His favorite thing to do is to drop you on the bed and watch you bounce back up. Trying to crawl to right yourself is a hard feat since he almost immediately pounces on you.
- He will 1000% hold your wrists above your head and while in your ear. Gaz says the dirtiest shit in bed. It comes naturally to him. He loves seeing you relax before his eyes at the sound of his voice alone.
- Wouldn’t be opposed to a threesome as long as they know you’re his partner and not theirs. He wouldn’t do it so he could have another person fawn over him. Gaz would do it to worship you. Once he’s in a relationship with you there only is you for him.
- Second easiest to get hard out of 141. If you push on his chest/shoulder/abdomen to get him to sit back down his blood will immediately flow south.
- Loves when you take what you want from him. Definitely a switch and would beg on his knees in front of you if you wanted him to.
- Gaz LOVES worshipping your body. Some degradation here and there, but ultimately he can’t help but spout off compliments when he’s buried in you.
- Will definitely send you pictures when deployed. He doesn’t do it to tease you and not let you cum, he wants you to cum to them. Gaz didn’t curate all those pictures for them to go to waste.
- Aftercare expert. Everything is tuned to you specifically. He’s had a few partners and with each he paid attention to what they liked most. Expect a warm bath for you to relax in, followed by food you love, a show on that you’ve been binging, all available on your bed so you can rest how you want to.
- His favorite parts about sex is the foreplay and aftercare. Sorry not sorry!
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