#i will fight for her place in the lineup

[shoyostar]

𝓓𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝓕𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝓗𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃!

oh future husband, better love me right!

premise. the nhk gives it’s viewers a peak into the love lives of the jnt’s lineup, interviewing the future wives of the jnt to crack the secret to a happy relationship ❤︎

content. haikyu!! jnt / f!reader. (atsumu miya, rintarou suna, wakatoshi ushijima & shoyo hinata). fluff. somewhat decent relationship advice. downbad fiancés. healthy relationships(!!). suggestive moments. petnames.

soundtrack. dear future husband : meghan trainor.

part two can be read here.

dear future husband m.list. // hq. masterlist.

ATSUMU MIYA.

“after every fight, just apologize.”

“Relationship advice?” You repeat, sitting across from the NHK interviewer, mic strapped to your shirt as a camera filmed your living room. She nods, smiling while holding a microphone of her own.

“Yes! Tell us, what is the secret to a healthy relationship?”

You tilt your head, “Well, I guess I have some advice to give.” Your fingers drum against the armrest of your couch as you sit in thought, contemplating on what to tell the reporter, “hmm..”

Atsumu sitting beside you laughs, his arm slung comfortably over your shoulder, “I have some advice I’d like to give as well.”

You turn to him with a grimace. “I don’t want any young viewers following whatever is about to come out of your mouth, ‘Tsumu.”

He looks at you offended; reeling his arm back to his side, shock spelled out all over his face. “Excuse me, I’m great at romance. I romanced you, didn’t I?”

“Unfortunately,” you jest, with Atsumu exclaiming in protest, “But this isn’t just about romancing someone, ‘Tsumu. They’re asking what makes a relationship a healthy one.”

“So?” He shrugs, “A healthy relationship is one that’s full of romance.”

“I apologize for him,” you playfully tell the interviewer, ignoring the look Atsumu gives you in response, “He’s not the best at this sorta stuff.”

She merely giggles, “No worries, the players are allowed to give their own opinions as well.” Atsumu puffs his chest out, “See, babe? She said I can talk too.”

“Yeah well, just make sure to cut out whatever he says in the final broadcast,” She lets out a snort at your jab, hiding the smile that creeps onto her face behind her microphone while Atsumu shoves your shoulder in despair.

“Awe, c’mon! I’m not that bad with relationship advice!” He pouts at you, looking like a kicked puppy when he does so, “What makes you think I’m so bad at this, do you actually want to marry me, babe?”

Your eyes soften at his saddened tone, feeling slightly guilty you link your fingers with his, eyes full of love when he smiles down at your intertwined hands.

“Of course I do, ‘Tsumu.”

The camera crew awes as you turn back to face the cameras, still holding Atsumu’s hand firmly in your own, running your thumb over the smooth cut diamond ring studded band he wears on his ring finger.

“The advice I have to give viewers is; Apologize when you are wrong,” you tell the interviewer, “No matter your pride, no amount will replace your relationship. It’s never worth sacrificing your loved one just for the sake of winning an argument.”

“Uh huh, you’re one to talk about that, babe,” Atsumu rolls his neck, “You never apologize first, it’s always me who has to for you to talk to me again.”

“What are you talking about?” You look at him confused, “I’m the one who initiates the apology conversations, you’re the stubborn one out of us.”

“Nuh-uh.”

You groan, “Exactly.”

Atsumu pulls his hand out of yours, placing it on your thigh instead before facing the cameras. “But, she is right. Do not ever choose a winning an argument over your partner. It ends badly.”

“You would know,” you snort, “You give me the longest silent treatments until I coax you out of it with kisses.”

“Can we cut that out of the broadcast, please?”

You purse your lips to hide the oncoming smile until Atsumu leans forward, a handsome grin on his face as he looks directly into the rolling cameras with a newfound confidence.

“But, y’know. I do always apologize in the end, ‘cause my girl’s never wrong.”

RINTAROU SUNA.

“make time for her.”

“You see this girl?” Suna jabs a thumb in your direction from across the kitchen, leaning against the marble island lazily as the camera team nods. “Yeah, she gets constipated if I don’t give her enough attention.”

Your head perks up immediately as you shoot him a halfhearted glare, “Do not.”

“See, she’s doing it right now.” He ignores, drinking from his glass of water before setting it down on the counter, ignoring the little gasp you let out at his actions.

Rolling your eyes, you smack his arm before sliding a coaster under his drink, “Don’t scratch the marble, Rinnie. I just bought this island.”

The camera team silently giggles at the short interactions between you two, with Suna sticking his tongue out at you and in response you give him a middle finger before he turns back to face them, “Can you believe her?”

Scoffing, you enter the camera frame beside him, “Don’t bring them into this, Rinnie.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I’m your fiancée.”

Suna opens his mouth to argue before shutting it promptly, “Good point.”

One of the crew members holds a sign from behind the cameras, indicating to get the interview back on topic. “Why would you ever ask her for relationship advice?” Suna chuckles, “I was the one who made the first move.”

“The interview is for the fiancée’s of the JNT, Mr. Suna,” the interviewer reminds him, “But the players are welcome to voice their own opinions as well.”

Suna stretches his arm behind his back with a yawn, a sliver of his abdomen peeking out from underneath his home shirt before disappearing quickly, “Well in that case, allow me to voice this opinion—”

You slap a hand over his mouth before he can begin, “Nope, didn’t you hear them? This is my interview, Rinnie.”

“Buhf dey shaid I can shpeak too, affhole." Suna glares from behind your hand, removing it from his mouth with a groan. “Did you even wash your hand? Tastes gross.”

“Why did you lick my hand?”

“We’ve done freakier things than that and that’s what you’re worried about?”

Your words get lodged in your throat, sputtering out hurriedly, “This is going on T.V, Rinnie!”

He looks to you with a smug smile, “Yeah, and I can’t wait to rewatch this interview and see your reaction again later.”

Your fists clench momentarily before taking a deep breath, relaxing yourself and facing the cameras with a smile. “Anyways, some relationship advice I’d give to anyone watching; make time for your spouse.”

Suna nods along to your words, “Mhm, I think that’s the most important thing in a relationship.”

“Shut up, Rinnie.”

“Ouch,” he fakes a stab through his heart, monotonous eyes but a playful grin on his lips. “I talk for two seconds and you tell your dear fiancé to shut up?”

You shake your head towards him jokingly, continuing to talk to the interviewer, “A healthy relationship means you spend time with your loved ones, and your spouse should be the most loved person in your life.”

The reporter nods, “I see, I see, what do you suggest to our viewers the best ways to spend quality time with their lover?”

“In bed.” Suna chimes in immediately, earning another smack on the shoulder from you. “What?” He looks at you with a knowing grin, “Oh, you— I didn’t mean like that, oh my god you’re sooo dirty minded.”

He chuckles, “I meant like cuddling, laying in bed together, watching movies. Y’know, wholesome things.”

“Nothing is wholesome with you,” you exasperate, speaking from personal experience. “But yes, those are great ways to spend times with your lover. They’re good times to bond with them, or just relax and unwind after a long day.”

“Yeah, after a gruelling day of practice, it’s nice to come home and lay in her arms,” Suna motions to you before leaning his head on your shoulder, his grin now replaced with a small but gentle smile. “She’s all I want to see after practice.”

“Wow,” you tease, leaning your head atop his, “and where did you learn to be so smooth, hm? Are you just playing it up for the cameras, Rinnie?”

Suna snickers, hands crossed over his chest relaxed, “I would never,” he says before mumbling close to your ear.

“I just, really like to spend time with you.”

WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA.

“treat her like a lady.”

“My fiancé is out right now at the gym,” you inform the NHK station crew, their camera men follow you inside your house for the opening shots of the broadcast. “Make yourselves comfortable while you wait.”

The interviewer settles himself on a seat at your dining table as you reach for the vase of flowers atop, moving into the kitchen to pour the old water out of their vase, careful to not spill any over your kitchen counter as you refill the container with fresh water from your tap.

Refreshing the water, you carefully place the flowers back into their vase before rearranging them neatly, coming back out of the kitchen to place them back on your table and adjusting them accordingly as the interviewer watches amazed.

“Those flowers are very lovely,” he notes softly, almost as if any louder of a volume would disturb the plants, “Did you fiancé happen to get them for you?”

You smile, “yes, he did,” recalling the first time he got you a bouquet, on your first date many years ago.

“‘Toshi knows I love flowers.”

The soft click of the lock to your house causes you to perk your head up in familiarity, the frame of your fiancé’s figure coming into view as you see him placing his shoes down beside your door before coming inside.

“Welcome home, dear,” you call out to him from the kitchen, one of the camera crew’s members break off to film your fiancé as he enters the home. He drops his gym bag to the floor beside your couch, removing his jacket and hanging it on your coatrack before passing through the halls of your shared home to get to you.

Ushijima shuffles his way into the kitchen, passing by the camera crew and approaching you from behind, hugging you as his hands are wrap around your stomach, head dropping into the crook of your shoulder.

You lean into his touch, his freshly showered hair smells of the shampoo the two of you use.

“Are you showing them the flowers I got you?” He asks, eying the pretty arrangement of flowers on the table. The cameras zoom in to take a closer shot at the flowers, noting the vibrancy of the colours and the lack of thorns adorning the stems.

You and the reporter nod, Ushijima lets a small smile settle on his face. “She told me they were her favourites,” he tells the reporter.

“Hm,” he hums before turning to you, microphone extending outwards. “is that your relationship advice for the viewers then? Giving your loved one gifts?”

You shake your head quickly, “Oh, no! No, that’s not my advice— Of course, do get your partner gifts if you know they’ll enjoy them.” Ushijima straightens up, hands snaking around your waist to stand beside you as the cameras pan out to record the both of you in the same shot.

“‘Toshi just really likes to get me little things,” you smile, reminicing on all the times your eyes barely glazed over something in a store front before he was scrambling inside the shop to buy it for you, despite your pleas.

“But gifts do not have to be expensive,” You reassure the viewers again, “just little trinkets that remind you of your partner will be enough.”

Ushijima nods before lifting your hand up to the camera, showing off the engagement ring with a large diamond displayed proudly atop it. “Yes, but I do like to splurge when it comes to her.”

You retract your hand quickly, warily eying your fiancé, “‘Toshi! Don’t make the viewers think they need to buy people’s happiness with expensive gifts!”

His head tilts unsurely, “My love, do you not like the ring I got you?”

“I-I do! When did I ever say I didn’t?”

His eyes crinkle slightly in concern, “Then why are you hiding our engagement ring from the viewers?”

“Because,” you sigh, “I don’t want young, inexperienced lovers to think they need something like a huge, flashy engagement ring to be loved by someone.”

“But you deserve the best,” he rebuffs, “There is nothing I wouldn’t buy for you if you asked.”

“‘Toshi.. this isn’t really helping our case…”

The reporter turns to Ushijima, “Even though this is a special for the JNT fiancées, the players are allowed to give their own insight.” He informs your soon-to-be husband, “Do you have anything else to add for our viewers?”

Ushijima thinks for a moment, silent in thought as you look to your fiancé, and the sight of his matching engagement ring twinkling under the bright studio lights filling your home catches your eye all too quickly.

“Do you have anything you want to say, ‘Toshi?” You nudge his shoulder slightly when he continues to remain quiet, an encouraging smile on your lips.

He nods, bringing the hand with your ring on it before giving the intricately cut diamond a kiss, his piercing eyes gazing deep into yours, causing your face to heat up fervently at his wolfish grin.

“Treat your partner the best that you can, like the lady she is and deserves to be treated as.”

SHOYO HINATA.

“don’t forget your anniversaries!”

Shoyo’s leg bounces feverishly as the reporter speaks to you casually, unable to contain his excitement at being asked to join you for this broadcasted interview special.

His grin is wide, beaming whenever you sneak small glances at him whenever the reporter looks down at their cue cards of start up questions to ease into the conversation, before the real topic is brought up.

“Do you have any relationship advice for our viewers?”

You’re about to speak until Shoyo interrupts you, quite literally flying out of his seat while brightly smiling as his hand grasps yours with a tight grip, “I do, I do!”

The reporter chortles, smiling at his tactics, “Thank you, Mr. Hinata. But this interview is specifically for your fiancée.” Shoyo’s face sullens lightly until he speaks again, “But you’re allowed to give your own thoughts when she’s done.”

Shoyo slumps back into his seat dejectedly as you rub his back comfortingly, “Sorry, Sho. But just let me speak first, okay?” His pout is replaced instantaneously at your words with the usual smile he holds when around you, “Alright, baby!”

You look towards the reporter, hand still clasped in Shoyo’s securely. “Here is my advice for a healthy relationship; Don’t forget your anniversaries.”

Your fiancé’s mouth hangs open in shock at your words, head whipping to face you with a hearty laugh, “That’s what I was going to say!”

The look of shock that spreads across your face amuses him, staring at you expectantly for a few moments before you too erupt into laughter, shoulders shaking in surprise as the two of you cling to each other for support, with Shoyo nearly falling off the couch with how hard he cackles.

He clings onto your shoulder to stop himself from tumbling, which in turn causes you to laugh harder as you try to pull him back up as Shoyo calls out for you to ‘save him’.

“Baby, I’m falling!” Shoyo shrieks while howling with laughter, “Grab my hand!”

“You’re already grabbing my hand, Sho!”

Cameras stationed around your living room pan to zoom in on Shoyo’s joyful face when he fools around with you, the grip he still holds on your hand as clear as day as you jokingly attempt to rescue his bumbling self.

The out of frame reporter looks to the two of you happily, the fact that you both seem so absorbed in each other and have forgotten about the interview portion of the broadcast is surprisingly heartwarming for both the crew and the viewers watching the broadcast.

Once the two of you manage to calm down, you shyly look back to the NHK crew with a timid smile.

“Sorry,” you apologize to your interviewer, coughing as you try to hold back another bout of laughter when you catch Shoyo smiling at you again, attempting to contain his giggles. “We got a little- uhm, carried away.”

“It’s no problem,” the reporter chuckles, “I can see the two of you are very much in love, so is that the advice you wish to tell our viewers on how your relationship with each other is so healthy?”

You and Shoyo nod simultaneously, “Yeah, don’t you ever forget your partner’s anniversaries!!” Shoyo sternly but playfully warns the viewers, “I’m serious, guys! Anniversaries are important!”

“What anniversaries should our viewers be aware of when it comes to their lovers?”

This time you speak up, “Well, the major and most well known ones of course,” you begin, listing off the ones you can recall at the moment.

“For example; first month together, first year spent as a couple, birthdays could also count I suppose—”

“Did you know I proposed to her on our fifth anniversary?” Shoyo interrupts excitedly, the same happy and bright smile on his face shining when he proudly pulls up his hand to show off the ring on his finger, “I was so caught up in the moment, I forgot to put the ring on her finger after she accepted!”

Recalling that memory brings warmth to your cheeks, “Yeah, he literally forgot about the ring in the box until I asked him about it later.”

“But in any case,” you circle back to original topic at hand, noticing the way Shoyo’s smile dampens a little when you switch back so quickly as you shoot him an apologetic smile, you don’t want to waste the reporter’s and NHK crew’s time any longer.

“Don’t forget your anniversaries, people! They’re a big deal for a ton of lovers!”

“Th-that’s right!” Shoyo piggybacks off your response, “And if you do forget, you better apologize a lot!”

The reporter nods, turning their attention to your fiancé. “And do you have any final thoughts for our viewers on how you maintain a healthy relationship with your fiancée, Mr. Hinata?”

Shoyo smiles deviously at the open ended question he’s been dying to answer this whole time; his hand creeping teasingly up your thigh to the small of your back as he leans in real close to you with a knowing wink, the flushed expression displayed on your face at his actions encourages him even more to continue.

His eyes glint with amusement, the mischievous grin on his lips is firm even in front of several strangers and cameras rolling in real time, footage of his behaviour being broadcasted to the entirety of Japan this very second.

And without shame or guilt, Shoyo smirks.

“Make your anniversary nights real special for her, trust me on that one.”

reblogs are appreciated .ᐟ ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

© property of shoyostar / thomae 2023. all rights reserved.

#hinata x reader #shoyo hinata #shoyo hinata x reader #shoyo fluff #hinata fluff #atsumu x reader #atsumu fluff #suna x reader #suna fluff #ushijima x reader #ushijima fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #atsumu miya #suna rintaro #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyuu fic #haikyu fluff #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x imagines #haikyuu x self insert #haikyuu headcanons #haikyu x reader #‧₊˚⋅ ࣪ ִֶָ☾. — constellations .ᐟ

[themultifanshipper]

don't be shy. elaborate.

personally i see this podium as carlos holding reader in place between his legs, readers back against his chest as oscar absolutely devours them. i just know he's the king of guy to unhinge his jaw and eat his partner alive because have you seen that man? no further explanation is needed. carlos is praising reader to no end while they're squirming and poor lando is sat in the Cuck Chair TM (there's one in every hotel fight me) unable to touch himself even though he's so hard it HURTS and all he can do is grip the armrests of the chair until his knuckles turn white. go forth and do with my thots what you will 🙃

https://www.tumblr.com/themultifanshipper/750822766739111936/or-foursome-if-youre-not-a-pussy

This lineup goes hard

Warnings: nasty, nasty foursome. Unhinged Oscar. female reader

Oscar and lando bet that whoever was in front would get to eat you out while the other was forced to watch.

They put everything they had into that race, but Lando got damage and fell behind Carlos through no fault of his own.

So Oscar had an idea: let carlos join, just to torture Lando that much more.

So there they were, Oscar with his head buried between your legs, Carlos behind you holding your arms behind your back so you couldn't touch oscar, whispering sweet praises into your ear, and poor Lando in his cuck chair facing the bed.

Lando wasn't allowed to touch himself, so he was white knuckling the armrests as he squirmed, cock hard and leaking in his pants.

Oscar had promised him that if he was a good boy, he would fuck him nasty after, so he was determined to last.

Oscar was undeniably the best at giving head. Lando and Carlos were good too, amazing in fact, but Oscar had that lazy desperation that drove you insane. He alternated between gliding his tongue over your pussy, and shoving it as deep as possible while using his nose to rub at your clit, jaw unhinged and eyes rolling back as he loses himself in the sensation of your sweet juices running down his face.

You were three orgasms in when he finally lifted his head, face and shirt soaking wet, and looked at Carlos, who was also very hard but didn't dare try anything.

"Do you want to fuck her while I fuck Lando?" He asked, droopy grin exposing his bunny teeth, but weirdly he looked more menacing than cute in that moment.

Carlos groaned, his head rolling back towards the headboard. Lando whimpered in the corner and they both looked at him.

"Yes, please" was all Carlos could muster, the sight in front of him was changing his brain chemistry. Lando's hair was soaked in sweat, as was his underwear, very obvious tent under the wet patch as he panted and rolled his hips, searching for friction.

That's how you ended up in reverse cowgirl as Carlos pounded into you from below while Lando faced you on the bed, on his knees, prostate being abused by Oscar's fingers.

Once he was prepped, Oscar grabbed his hair and shoved his face down towards where your pussy was quivering around Carlos's cock, forcing Lando to look at it, and slid into him to the hilt, before starting a punishing pace.

Lando wailed into the covers as tears ran down his cheeks from the pleasure after being denied for so long, as Oscar started teasing him.

"Look at that Lando. Look at our girl's pussy being split open by another man's cock. That could've been you."

Lando whined as Oscar gave a particularly hard thrust before continuing "You could be making her feel good if you hadn't fucked up your race"

He knew that it wasn't Lando's fault, he was just being mean. But it was working because Lando moaned and tightened around his cock, so he slowed down to a slow grind, making Lando wail in desperation again.

"Don't be selfish Lando, our girl needs to come first, why don't you help her out, hmm?"

So he let go of Lando's hair, the older man immediately surging forward to lick over your lips spread around Carlos's cock, and Carlos groaned as he slowed down ever so slightly to help Lando out.

When Lando licked over your sensitive overstimulated clit, you shrieked and clenched around Carlos, which created a chain reaction.

Carlos suddenly pounded back into you, pumping you full of him as he came inside you, which made you come, drenching Lando's face in your juices, the sight of which sent Oscar into a frenzy, slamming his hips into Lando's, who then came completely untouched, the two mclaren drivers tumbling over the edge together.

You were all a mess of panting, sweaty bodies as you all caught your breath on the now very damp bed.

Lando spoke up first, wiping his slick wet hair away from his eyes. "Next time I win, you're going to suffer, Osc"

I spiralled (what else is new?)

Look at THESE MEN! RAIL ME! PLEASE!

#my thots #lando norris #oscar piastri #carlos sainz #lando thots #oscar thots #carlos thots #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader #f1 #formula 1

[wosowrites]

Into the Closet (Guro Reiten x Reader)

warnings: smut

prompt: in which you and Guro play for opposition teams and sneak off after a group stage game.

a/n: based off this request here also y’all are WELCOME

You were born and raised in Switzerland, and you were proud of it. You made the move to Chelsea at only 19 and eventually met Guro.

You guys did not click instantly. You played the same position and Guro was constantly trying to fight, work, and out skill her way into a starting position instead of you. But you didn’t falter nor give up your spot. You did, however, tear those dreaded three letters halfway through the first season with Guro there and she ended up taking your spot in the lineup. She took your spot but she also became a comfort blanket to you, helping you through physio, mental difficulties and struggles.

The day you got back onto the field was the day Guro kissed you after the game. She had been so happy for you, happy to have you on her right wing as she was on the left. It was a perfect kiss, a perfect fleeted changing room kiss after everyone had left.

Years later, she was your girlfriend, and you were lined up in the tunnel of the biggest stage in the world. The World Cup.

You lined up beside Guro by coincidence and reached out to gently grab her hand. She grabbed yours, gave it a squeeze and then let it go.

The game ended 0-0 to Norways great. They gas lost their first game and it wasn’t looking good for them. What looked even worse was when the media asked for you and Guro for the post game conference after you had both showered and changed into your countries sweatsuit. They asked you a couple questions but somehow none came up about your relationship although public. Maybe it was because of the harsh glare Guro gave the interviewers as she walked into the room that made several of them grow smaller, wether by looking down or scrunching their shoulders.

After the session was over, you abandoned your post and was the first to walk out and into the hallways under the stadium. They were pretty empty as no one else had poured out of the meeting room. Only janitors and a couple people of importance you didn’t know littered the halls. You leaned against the wall and waited.


She didn’t have you standing around long. A minute later the Norwegian came rushing out of the room, her face annoyed. That is until she saw you. Her features lit up and the Norwegian quickly grabbed your hand and started running. "Guro Reiten! What are you doing?!" you whisper yelled, looking over your shoulder to see if anyone was watching. It was a hard task to do while running. "This is probably the last time we’ll see each other other than if we both somehow make it to the final. Which won’t happen with how Norway are playing," she grumbled as she turned a corner and slowed her pace. "Yes I know that," you said gently as she led you towards a door.

"So, I want to…" Guro started saying as she opened a door.

"You want to have sex in a closet?" you finished her sentence. "Yes. Get in before someone sees us," the older girl said.

You quickly hurried into the dark closet and watched as Guro entered herself and locked the door with the help of an old wooden chair that was there for god knows what reason. "You are insane," you laughed, your back pressed against the wall and your hands over your mouth. "And you are so very hot," she said, pressing her body into yours and grabbing your wrists to place them at your sides. You cupped her face in your hands and smiled down at her, your height difference only an inch, but you teased her about it always. "Are we actually gonna do this?" you laughed. "Yeah, we tell our coaches that we got held back in the hallways," she said, starting to kiss your neck.

You threw your head back and dug your nails into her sides as she continued her attack on your neck.

Playing with the hems of her Norwegian hoodie, you tugged it upwards, signaling to her you wanted it off. She stopped kissing you just for you to pull her sweatshirt over her head and tossing it into a bucket. You took a couple seconds to look at her body before placing your hands on her chest and backing her up to the opposite wall.

Guro let out a small moan as she hit the concrete wall softly. You pulled your own tracksuit over your head and discarded it before mimicking Guro’s past actions.

You pulled her ponytail loose and started kissing her neck all the way down to her collarbone. You let your hands roam her abs as hers found residence on your ass, squeezing it every time you got a rise out of her. Eventually, you pulled her sports bra up and over her head, enjoying the view of her breasts. You got down your knees and kissed her stomach until you got to her sweatpants which came off at lighting speed and stayed around her ankles.

"Still okay to do this?" you asked her as though you hadn’t already had sex dozens of times. "Oh stop it y/n. Yes you have my okay, I am consenting. Just fuck me," she groaned. You chuckled at her envy, "just making sure" you added before pulling down her underwear.

You draped one of her legs over your shoulders to give you better access to her pussy. Starting with a small lick in her folds, you accelerated your pace to have you making out with her pussy, tasting her, feeling her and enjoying the little cries and moans your girlfriend held in.

Guro’s hands were digging into your shoulder, your hair, anywhere to keep her standing as your touch made her legs falter. "I’m close. I’m so fucking close," she moaned a little too loudly. "Shush, I know," you whispered to her, the vibration of your words on her core making her thrust her hips into your face. She came all over your mouth to your pleasure. You gently got back up and kissed her lips. "I can taste myself," she breathed out.

Your hands were on her bare ass, holding her up as her legs were not working. The combination of hours of playing football and her orgasm putting her legs out of service. "You like it?" you asked her, kissing her again. "I’d rather taste you," she admitted, squeezing your breasts over the fabric of your bra.

You smiled at her softly before the Norwegian spun your around and trapped you against her naked body and the concrete. Guro pulled off your bra and slipped off your pants in a quick motion before getting to work.

She was skilled to say the least, with a couple of thrusts of her fingers, words of praise and grazing of nails on your lower stomach, you were shaking and crying out obscenities.

"Do you want to get caught, pretty girl? Cause if you do keep yelling out like that," Guro laughed, too high on love and adrenaline to realize how truly horrible it would be if you were to get busted. "Do I look like I- oh my god," you moaned out as Guro pressed her face into your pussy and nipped at your clit.

She did her job well, leaving you panting, sweaty, and in need of another shower. "I can’t believe Im not gonna get to that for another week minimum," Guro said to you, standing up and draping her arms around your waist. You let your body weight fall onto her and put your arms around her neck, leaning your head on her shoulder. "Mhm," you said simply, chest still leaving. Guro kissed your neck softly this time, letting her fingers roam your hips and leaving patterns of love on your bare body.

"We gotta get back," you said, pulling away from her reluctantly and going to find your discarded clothing.

Guro did the same, slipping her outfit back on. Her hair was still insane when you turned around to face her, both fully dressed now. You let out a sharp laugh at the sight of her, the sun lights in the closet now on. "Oh baby," you laughed, walking up to her.

You closed the gap between you both and reached over to brush her hair down, tucking loose strands behind her ears and flattening the parts that were sticking out wildly. Once you had fixed her hair, you put your hand on her cheek and ran your thumb over her sharp cheekbone. She closed her eyes as you kissed her softly. "Go win the next one, hey?" you said to her, leaning your forehead against hers. "Mhm. Yeah," she answered.

Thankfully, no one was occupying that hallway once you snuck out. "Go before me," she told you. You nodded and gave her a tight lip smile before giving her a last fleeted kiss and rushing off to the Swiss changing room.

"So sorry guys, everyone wanted to talk and I needed the washroom," you said, walking into the changing room to the team sitting around on their phones and waiting for the bus to be ready for them to exit the stadium. "All good y/l/n," your coach said, "make your bag and let’s go," he added.

You were quick to pack up your things into your bag and put it on your back before Lia and Alisha crowded you. "You got a little something," Lia said, pointing to your cheek. "What?" you said, panicked and wiping at it frantically only to find nothing there. "Ha! Jesus what did you do to have you that freaked?" Alisha laughed. "You have no clue," you mumbled. "Tell us!" Lia said, leaning into you.

"I just hooked up with Guro in a utility closet."

#guro reiten #alisha lehmann #lia walti #wwc23 #woso fic #woso smut #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso

[elliewithcellie]

Right in front of you

summary: reader complains about their bad luck finding a guy when the guy for them is literally right there (Steve Harrington x Reader)

wc: 796

cw: mention of bad boyfriend in the past, friends to lovers speedrun, reader is a little dummy but we love them. Gender neutral, but might be implied more fem. One bad word. Steve POV more or less

a/n: Just a little blurb i found in my files, nothin to it, but the ending made me smile so i figured i'd post it

“When will it be my turn, ya know?” you rambled on to your friend, Steve. “Like, you know I’m thrilled for my friends. The girls have gone through so much, and to see them grow and learn that they deserve the best and take on love again is more than anything I could ever ask for. I’m so happy for them.”

You paused, looking down at your hands, fiddling with a stray string on your sweater.

Steve sat in the silence, waiting for you to fill it again. But he knew you. He knew you weren’t sharing the whole truth. He watched your eyebrows furrow like you were fighting with the words in your mind.

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ in there,” Steve said.

You sighed. “It’s silly.”

“That’s ok.” Steve brushed the hair from your face to behind your ear. “Talk to me.”

“It’s just that I was with them through all of it. We all started in the same place. We all came from these shitty relationships, and we all worked together to heal. I worked so hard, Steve. I want you to believe me—”

“I do.”

“—When I tell you how hard I worked with these girls, I mean it. They became my everything. We became a family when I felt like I had no one.”

Steve couldn’t help but wince. It was hard hearing you talk about your past. His senses always overloaded with anger. For his dear friend he cared for more than anyone to be treated the way you were made his temperature rise. His heart pounded in his chest, but he let you continue.

“But I guess I’m just confused. You know? It’s like they’ve moved on without me, carrying on with their lives. But they were my life. Gosh, I wish you could meet them. You’d fit in so well with the whole gang, I swear.”

Again, Steve’s heart jumped. God, did he want that. For you to introduce him to your friends. Steve’s mind began to wander, thinking about the two of you traveling up to Utah together, meeting the girls that made you who you are today. He’d want to thank them individually for taking care of you. For allowing you to be comfortable enough to be vulnerable with him and allow him to love you. ‘Love you’? Oh, god. He didn’t realize.

“I’d love that,” he choked out.

“But what about me, Steve? What about me? I’m stuck in these patterns I want to get out of. I want to be independent and free. Just like them. But can I be super honest?” You looked up at Steve for the first time in this conversation.

“Of course.”

“I—I think I’m lonely. I’m really grateful that we’ve become friends because I don’t know what I would have done without you. But what do I have to do to have that special someone? I’ve put in the same work. But people aren’t looking at me like that, I guess.”

“That’s not true.”

“What? Of course, it is. How else do you explain that the only relationship I’ve been in was a narcissist taking advantage of me?”

Steve was taken aback by that. He watched your eyebrows crinkle together at the bridge of your nose, a last defense to fight the tears.

“Where’s my lineup of men then? Explain to me why I’m skirted at the bar so they can talk to Brenda, or I’m approached only so they can ask for her number.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “You’re so dense sometimes, you know that?”

“Huh?”

“You’re so lost in your own head that you don’t even notice what’s right in front of you!”

“Oh, please. Name one guy who’s even flirted with me.”

“ME, you dumbass.”

“I, er, you, what?”

Steve didn’t waste another moment. He placed his hands on your cheeks and pulled you in for a kiss. It was brash, almost harsh in quality, with fervor as Steve pressed his lips against yours. He felt you settle against him, your hands reaching out to the back of his neck and hair.

Steve pulled away and looked you in your eyes. “Everything you want,” he began, “I want to be the one to give it to you. The intimacy you crave, the best friend wrapped in a man, that’s literally me. If you’ll have me, we can heal our scars together and work toward the goal of independence, one step at a time.”

“You really want that?”

“More than anything.”

This time, you pulled him into a kiss. This time, it was softer, kinder, but the passion remained.

You giggled. “And to think. I was crushing over you this whole time!”

Steve laughed. “God, you are a piece of work, you know that?”

#steve harrington #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader

[ghostboneswrites2]

A Mess - Volume 2

Part 3

Summary: How the Savior war and the loss of Rick affected your relationship with Daryl.

Warnings: profanity, loss, spoilers, character deaths, smut

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

Chapter List

Note: man, one of the teasers I pulled from this chapter sparked some interest 😅

Well, @thesadcatt0, prepare for ANSWERS.

Anyways, I’ll shut up now. Enjoy ❤️

all banners credited on the masterlist!

        The lineup may have well been the worst day of your life. Two of your friends gone, and your lover taken against his will right in front of you. 

        The days without him we’re almost as bad as the day he was taken. You barely ate, never slept. You constantly found yourself crying in your shared bed, sniffing his pillow in place of him. It seemed so cruel to lose two loves in one lifetime.

        You had agreed to go to Hilltop with Rick and some others. You didn’t really know why you were going or what the plan was. You were just desperate to get out of Alexandria for a while. And, you wanted to see Maggie. You hadn’t seen her since the lineup, and she was pretty sick back then.

        You gave Maggie a big hug when you saw her, but before you could really catch up, the gates opened again and a loud engine echoed within the walls. Through the dust you could just barely make out Daryl and Jesus riding in on a motorcycle. 

        Daryl had barely stood up off the bike before you tackled him to the ground.

        “You’re okay.” You cried into the nape of his neck. He stiffened at the sudden human contact after days in isolation, but he relaxed as his arms snaked around you and held you tight against him. 

        “Yeah. I am.” He whispered into your hair, reminding not only you that he was okay but also himself. It had been a long few days at the Sanctuary, but now he knew things about them, and he had to report to Rick. They had to fight back. “C’mon.” He said softly as he tried to sit himself up off the ground. You rolled off him and stood up with him, gripping his hand tightly as he walked over to Rick to hug him. 

        That reunion was probably the highlight of the war with the Saviors. After that, there was nothing but more violence and death. You had begun to believe you were cursed. It seemed like you managed to end up with some kind of injury every time you had to fight. 

        When the final battle with the Saviors was over, you were left with a broken arm and a concussion. While your arm would take quite a while to heal, your head was fine the next day. The people that really needed healing were Maggie and Daryl. They both wanted Negan dead, and neither of them could let it go. But, Rick was unmoving on his decision to keep Negan alive as an example of what the communities all could have been. He was loyal to Carl’s vision, even at the detriment of those who had a score to settle with Negan.

        The inability to cope with Negan’s life being spared caused a bit of a rift between you and Daryl. You’d followed him to the Sanctuary for the short time he was in charge there. He hated being there, and he didn’t even really want you there in the first place. A lot of the Saviors were just people getting by, but a lot of them were also animals. He hated the way some of the men would check you out and lick their crusty lips when you walked past. It made him sick to his stomach to think what they’d do to you if they had a chance.

        The only time either of you felt any semblance of happiness at the Sanctuary was when you were both in bed.

        The frustrations of the work would often leave Daryl tense, and he’d take those pent up frustrations out on you in bed. The sex got a lot rougher in those days. 

        He’d turn you over so you were facing away from him. He felt too ashamed of himself to look at you, or let you see him. He was ashamed of the way he had failed people over time. He failed to get Beth out of that hospital, he failed Glenn when he threw that lunch that got him killed, he failed Maggie when he couldn’t avenge Glenn, he failed Rick every day he woke up to lead the people he hated, and he failed you every time you reached for his hand and he flinched away. 

        He’d grip the back of your neck with his thick hand. His cock would slam into you with so much force it knocked guttural sounds from within you. Your fingers would dig into the sheets when the bruising force of his thrusts got a little out of hand. 

        His mind would always be elsewhere. You’d rarely reach your climax, either of you. You’d both go to bed unsatisfied and you’d be sore the next day. Still, you were close to each other, intimate in privacy, and that was as good as it was going to get for the time being, so you both tried to enjoy it as much as you could. 

        When Daryl stepped down at the Sanctuary and Carol took over, you left with him to help work on the bridge. With the Saviors not always working well with others, things could get pretty hectic. Fights would break out, and often Daryl would be an aggressor. It was hot and sticky and bugs were everywhere all the time. The tent you shared was cramped and the nights were restless and uncomfortable. You couldn’t even have violent therapy sex without others listening in. There seemed to be no end to the suffering. Still, you remained by his side, no matter what.

        You stayed with him even when Rick blew up the bridge, when Daryl retired to the forest for six years. You’d often visit Hilltop or Alexandria to see old friends, but you stayed out there in that tent with him. Things were okay. He had become a bit softer, even in bed, but still he was withdrawn. You ate most of your meals in silence.

        Days dragged a lot of the time. When you got so bored you couldn’t stand it, you’d just take another trip to visit Maggie or Michonne and spend a few days away. He didn’t seem to mind, nor did he seem to worry about you taking care of yourself without him, so no harm done, you figured.

        One day you came home to see he had a dog. A dog, named Dog, apparently. 

        “Where’d you find him?” You asked as you patted and loved on the furry thing. 

        “Just out here.” He shrugged. He was holding something back, but you didn’t pry. You’d find out what it was soon enough, when you put the few tracking tips he taught you to good use, and tracked him on one of his hunts to find him at an old cabin. Another woman sat on the porch with him, long blonde hair cascaded over her shoulder. 

        She noticed you as soon as you noticed her. She stood quickly, shotgun cocked and ready, barrel pointed right at you. You disregarded her completely, eyes trained on Daryl, who you didn’t think had any business at another woman’s house. 

        Dog stood pointedly at her side, growling and snarling at you. You realized he was her dog.

        Without a word, you just nodded, and stormed back to your camp. 

        By the time Daryl caught up, you were haphazardly throwing anything that belonged to you in your bag and rummaging around the campsite. 

        “(Y/N)—“

        “Don’t.” You cut him off.

        “It wasn’t—“

        “Wasn’t what?” You snapped, turning to face him, eyes blazing. “Wasn’t what it looked like? Yeah, right. Heard that one before.”

        Your body was trembling with rage. Considering the events that led to your relationship with him in the first place, you were infuriated that he’d be doing the same thing to you as your sleaze bag ex. We’re you eternally cursed to choose unfaithful men? 

        “No. It wasn’t.” He pleaded. You glanced down at Dog who sat idly by his side, tail wagging. 

        “Really? Cause I’ve never known a woman to loan anyone her dog without a good reason.” You glared. 

        “She didn’t. Dog found me. I followed him. That’s how I met her.”

        “Oh, cute. It’ll be a real nice story for your grandkids.” You rolled your eyes as you zipped up your bag and threw it over your shoulder. 

        “(Y/N) will ya just stop?!” 

        “No!” You shouted, throwing your hands up with frustration. “No, I won’t stop! If there’s anything you should know by now, it’s that I’m nobody’s fucking side piece.” 

        “It ain’t like that! If ya’d just stop and listen!”

        He pleaded with you as he stalked behind you, slapping stray limbs out of his face as he dodged through trees to keep up your pace. He found that he, too, was shaking. He felt so much anxiety in that moment — the possibility of losing you, especially over something so stupid — it was tearing him apart. He found himself blinking away tears as you tried to speed away from him. But, as he blinked them back, the pressure in his throat and chest just seemed to push more out. He was terrified. He couldn’t let you walk away. 

        When he caught up, he reached out and gripped your arm, pulling you back. You spun around and looked right through him, eyes wide and full of your own tears.

        “(Y/N), please. Just stop and listen.” He breathed. 

        “You have thirty seconds.” 

        “It wasn’t nothin’ like that, okay? I swear. Her dog follows me around. I bring ‘im home to her sometimes. We talk a little. That’s it.” He explained. 

        “Why don’t you just talk to me?” You asked quietly. You had a point. You two spent the majority of your time in silence, to the point where you’d leave him for days just to go have a real conversation with someone. You always came home, though, because you’d rather suffer in silence then be away for too long.

        “I just—“ He took a breath to collect his thoughts. “She don’t know about none of it, ya know? I just.. I don’t look at her and see somebody else I let down.”

        “Is that what you see when you look at me?”

        “No.” He shook his head. His gums were raw from how hard he’d been chewing at them. “I see somebody I’m afraid o’ lettin’ down.”

        “You never let anyone down, Daryl.” You said harshly. “And you’d know that if you’d fucking come talk to our family once in a while. I’m tired of telling them you’re doing fine, even if you won’t crawl out of your fucking hole and go see anyone.”

          “I just..” His lip quivered a little as he looked down at you. He hated that feeling. His fists bunched up at his sides, legs stiff, boots glued in place. He felt so awkward and vulnerable when he tried to be open with anyone. Especially you. All he wanted was to be someone you relied on, someone you felt safe with. Every time he opened up, he felt like anything but that. “I’m sorry.” 

        His voice cracked as he uttered the apology. You faltered a little at the sight of him, but you stood firm. 

        “Well, sorry ain’t gonna cut it this time. I need you to prove it. With actions.”

        “Like what?” He asked eagerly.

         “Like talking to me, for starters. Have a fucking conversation with me. Talk to me while we eat dinner. Touch me. Act like you want anything to do with me.” You spat. While his voice had softened the moment you gave him a chance to explain himself, your tongue was still sharp and jagged. All these things you had thought and felt and bottled up for six years were finally out on the table. 

        “Okay.” He nodded. “I will.”

        You glared at him. In all your experience with men, it had never been so easy to get the changes you’d asked for.

          “And…” You thought hard. “Sex. Like, good sex. I haven’t busted a nut in like six years.” 

        His lips curled a little. He’d almost forgotten how blunt you could be, given the chance to speak your mind. You crossed your arms.

        “Okay.” He nodded again. “So what first?”

        You cocked an eyebrow at that. It was actually a good question. 

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

        The bark of the tree scraped at your back as you gripped onto his shoulders. Lewd sounds filled the forest around you has he pumped his length in and out of you. You moaned and gasped, enjoying the familiarity of such intimate sex. It had been a long time since it felt that way. 

        Still, you weren’t reacting the way you used to, and he took notice. He wasn’t building you up the way he should have been by now.

        He slowed his pace down and broke the ongoing kiss to ask you; “What’s wrong?”

        “What? Nothing.” You panted impatiently, not understanding his sudden hesitance.

        “Somethin’s up.” He pressed.

        “I was starting to get close.” You insisted.

        “Nah ya weren’t.” He pointed out. “Hang on.”

         He hooked his hands under your thighs and dripped down to his knees, holding your legs up above his shoulders as his mouth found your mound. 

        You sucked in a breath of air at the sensation of his tongue tracing delicate circles around your clit. “Oh.” You breathed. “Shit.”

        He hummed against you, the gentle vibration making you twitch.

        Your nails dug into the tree behind you as you rocked against his mouth, relaxing your weight into the trunk as he held you up against it. 

        “Fuck.” You whined as your clit became more sensitive to his gentle laps. He sucked at your clit and fucked you with his tongue for a while, before he brought his attention back to your clit again and focused intensely on that sweet spot. 

        Soon your legs started to shake and your body began to buzz. The feeling washed over you quickly. A loud moan pushed past your lips as you came, writhing in his grip against the tree until you were twitching and jerking away from him. 

         With your orgasm finally out of the way, he was back on his feet, slapping into you, until his own high reached a climax and he was pumping you full of his cum. 

        When you recovered enough to pull your clothes back on and think a full, coherent thought, you realized something. 

        “Hey Daryl?” You asked as he buttoned up his jeans and adjusted his poncho.

        “Yeah?”

        “You didn’t pull out.” 

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s @l0kilaufeys0n7 @uhnanix

#daryl dixon #daryl x reader #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl x female reader #daryl twd #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl x you #daryl x y/n #a mess

[coffeeghoulie]

Mushy May Day 31: Looking at/Taking Pictures

The fridge in the den kitchen tells a lot of stories.

Thank you so so so much to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together again this year, and to @ghuleh-recs for making us the dividers. Love you guys, cannot thank you enough. I had so much fun doing this again <3

Arguably, the kitchen is the central point in the entire ghoul den. It seems like someone's always there, cooking or cleaning or making a snack, coming in from the gardens or slipping out to have a smoke.

So naturally, it makes sense that the fridge is the pack corkboard. Magnets from just every stop the band's ever made cover the stainless steel, holding up shopping lists, reminders on bright colored sticky notes, a calendar, but most frequently, photos. Polaroids and glossy film and printed out on paper, the kitchen fridge is an amalgamation of the big moments and the little ones.

There's one right next to the freezer handle, a little blurry, out of focus. It shows the inside of the band tourbus, a soft purple blanket covering two sleeping forms. It's dark, but if you look close enough, you can make out Dew's spindly fingers, arm wrapped tight around Aeon's waist as he big spoons them. Rain had taken it, the first night they had shared a bunk, early into Aeon's first tour. It makes the little quint blush every time they see it, but the way their tail wags betrays any semblance of embarrassment.

There's one in the center of the fridge, a polaroid film, the flash bright and a little over exposed, two ghouls with their backs to the camera. Aurora is easily recognizable, her hot pink hair covering the bottom quarter of the image. Dew's in the background, sitting in Mountain's lap, a little out of focus as he throws up an As Above gesture. Rain's the star of the show though, his blue black waves pulled back into two French braids, decorated with clips and baubles and ribbons. Dew's hair is in a similar state. There's a caption written in Aether's blocky handwriting below it that reads "Playing Barbies."

A glossy 4 by 6 print is stuck to the fridge with a magnet shaped like a palm tree, from Cirrus's disposable camera. It's summertime at the Abbey, taken from the edge of the dock. Mist's perched on Alpha's shoulders, successfully shoving Dew from Swiss's shoulders in a game of chicken fight. She'd taken it at the perfect moment of realization, Dew's eyes wide in panic just as he tips backwards. They had all laughed when she had gotten the print developed, even as Dew grumbled. He couldn't hide the fond look on his face when it had been pinned up, though.

On the side of the fridge is a picture of Omega and Terzo, the big ghoul sprawled out in an armchair during one of the pack's frequent movie nights, Terzo practically in his lap, smudging paint against the side of Omega's neck. They both had passed out within the first half hour of a particularly loud action movie, much to the snickers of the pack.

There are several from the road, new scenery and places and tourist stops, a polaroid of Aurora proudly holding up a soft drink that's almost the size of her torso captioned "Baby's First Big Gulp." One of Aeon sticking their face through a cut out that makes them look like a video game character in some mall. Swiss giving Dew bunny ears while the fire ghoul takes a picture with Rain and Mountain. Cumulus floating on a blow up raft smuggled into a hotel pool. All three of the ghoulettes squeezed onto a greenroom couch in a way that cannot possibly be comfortable but they had sworn up and down that it was.

There are close to two dozen pictures with a similar set up, the entire band and crew all lined up on stage after the last show of a tour. The lineup changes and shifts, familiar faces running through several photographs, looking bone-deep exhausted but with grins on their faces, satisfied with a job well-done.

Aether approaches the fridge, a photo in hand, searching for an empty magnet. He finds one, chuckling as he grabs one shaped like a bat but in a hot pink plastic, pinning the picture front and center. It shows Aeon and Aurora, both ghouls grinning, wearing cheap plastic party hats, the elastic hooked under their chins. There's a cake on the table in front of them, a sparkler candle lit in the middle. There's words frosted on it, in red frosting in Mountain's loopy handwriting that proudly display "Happy First Summoning Day."

He sighs, smiling at the picture of his newest packmates, before his eyes drift up to a picture pinned to the top corner of the fridge. Aether always looks to it when he's in here, feels a warmth settle in his heart as he takes in the picture. He's memorized it, it will be seared into the back of his eyelids for the rest of his time Up Top and long after that.

It's him and Dew, standing at the front of the chapel, grasping each other's forearms as Copia wraps a multi colored cord around their wrists, the fondest smiles on each of their faces. The cord was a four stranded braid of ribbon, he remembers, purple and black and blue and orange. He remembers the warmth of Dew's hand on his arm, the glint of the gold jewelry in his ears, hair soft and falling over his shoulders, every inch the ghoul he had fallen in love with the moment he had arrived Up Top.

Aether smiles, running a finger along the edge of the photograph reverently, reaching up for the bunch of bananas on the top of the fridge, breaking one off and going to rejoin the pack with his snack.

#thank you all for reading this month <3 #it's been fun! now time for a break lmao #dot's writing #mushy may 2024 #aether ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #the band ghost fanfiction #the band ghost #dewther

[perfectsunlight]

𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐘

𝒇𝒕. 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆, 𝒌𝒊𝒎 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒘𝒐𝒏, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒋𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒈.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓. 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧, 𝐞𝐧𝐯𝐲, 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐥, 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧.

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 𝟑.𝟐𝐤

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐲 - 𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐨

eunchae remembered the first time she saw wonyoung on television.

izone was one of her favorite groups when she was younger. fiesta was her favorite song and she recalled just how badly she wanted to be an idol someday.

she would spend hours watching fancams and performances, mesmerized by wonyoung and the rest of the girls. sometimes eunchae wishes izone stayed as a group. maybe chaewon would be happier.

being an idol was hard, but being a trainee was even harder. 

the grueling life of a trainee, with its endless hours of practice, sweat, and tears, often seemed like an insurmountable mountain. but in those moments of despair, when the weight of ambition threatened to crush her spirit, eunchae found solace in her idols.

she often wondered how wonyoung made it look so easy.

lacy, oh, lacy, skin like puff pastry

aren't you the sweetest thing on this side of hell?

insecurity was a foreign feeling to hong eunchae. she knew she was more than capable of being an idol. as the youngest member of le sserafim, she knew that her spot in the lineup was not just a stroke of luck. it was a testament to her hard work and dedication.

despite all the challenges she and her fellow members went through, the young idol knew that le sserafim was a force to be reckoned with. she knew that despite her own age, she was more than qualified for a position in the group.

the first time eunchae doubted herself was when chaewon slipped up on a live with sakura and kazuha.

dear angel lacy, eyes white as daisies

did i ever tell you that i'm not doin' well?

“konnichiwa, izo–” 

kim chaewon caught herself and immediately stopped speaking. sakura’s face fell for a split second at the realization of what her former izone member said before forcing a smile and saying the correct greeting.

of course, eunchae knew izone was always going to be a part of her leader and the eldest member’s past. it wasn’t something that would be erased. 

but the young girl started to doubt the validity of her group at that moment. she questioned her worth, her abilities, and her very presence in le sserafim. it felt like chaewon was still longing for something she no longer had.

or rather, someone. 

ooh, i care, i care, i care

like perfume that you wear, i linger all the time

watching, hidden in plain sight

“look, it’s yujin.” sakura whispered to chaewon, motioning with her eyes to the group of girls that had entered the room. ive and its leader, another former izone member, were making their way to their seats. eunchae would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a pit in her stomach at the smile that formed on chaewon’s lips when she saw wonyoung.

it was a smile that spoke volumes, a silent reminder that jang wonyoung was more than just an idol – she was family. 

“ah,” the japanese girl sighed softly. “wonyoung’s all grown up.” sakura's whispered words, filled with both nostalgia and a touch of wistfulness, only deepened the pit in eunchae's stomach. the leader next to her nodded absentmindedly. 

“i know. she’s not my maknae anymore.” 

my maknae.

oh how that small phrase burned a hole in the young girl’s chest. the term was once a term of endearment, something that chaewon always called her.

now it just echoed in her mind like a painful reminder of her place in the hierarchy of her leader’s heart.  

she poked the inside of her cheek and stared at her folded hands in her own lap. despite sitting amidst her fellow idols, eunchae felt like an outsider peering into a world she could never truly be a part of. 

she bit her lip, fighting against the surge of emotions threatening to engulf her. she couldn’t be sure whether her unease stemmed from the shifting dynamics among her former group members or from the unsettling realization that her position within the group might not be as secure as she had once believed.

eunchae's eyes flickered back to chaewon, whose gaze remained fixed on wonyoung as if captivated by an unspoken connection that stretched beyond the confines of words. 

the way chaewon's smile softened, her eyes glowing with a mixture of pride and longing, cut through eunchae like a knife. 

it was a smile meant for a cherished younger sister, a smile that belonged to someone else. someone who had once held the title of chaewon’s maknae. a knot tightened in eunchae's throat, and she clenched her hands into fists to quell the rising turmoil within her. 

despite the undeniable talent and potential that had secured her a spot in le sserafim, the presence of her illustrious seniors, both past and present, weighed heavily on her young shoulders.

ooh, i try, i try, i try

but it takes over my life, i see you everywhere

the sweetest torture one could bear

hong eunchae’s daily screen time was averaging around 10 hours. 75% of that time was spent on looking at wonyoung. or rather, comparing herself to wonyoung.

her fingertips danced over the glass, scrolling through images, videos, and social media posts that showcased wonyoung's charisma and talent. each swipe brought a mix of fascination and self-doubt, as if she were willingly subjecting herself to a torturous cycle of comparison. 

the effortless grace with which wonyoung carried herself, the way her smile seemed to light up even the darkest corners of the screen – it was all a constant reminder of the standards she felt she had to meet. 

eunchae, despite her own remarkable abilities, couldn't help but measure herself against this unattainable ideal. 

the more she looked, the more the lines between admiration and envy blurred, leaving her trapped in a cycle of insecurity. 

it also didn’t help that wonyoung’s face was practically everywhere. the girl was being casted in commercials, plastered on the covers of magazines, and dominating television screens with her charismatic presence. 

everywhere eunchae turned, there was wonyoung.

the constant exposure amplified eunchae's feelings of inadequacy, as if the world itself were conspiring to remind her of the gap between her dreams and her reality. even as she closed her eyes at night, wonyoung's image lingered, an uninvited guest in her thoughts. in her dreams, eunchae found herself shadowing the footsteps of her idol, trying to mimic every gesture and expression. 

it was as if she were living a fractured version of her life, a relentless pursuit of a mirage she could never truly catch.

the true cracks in the glass began showing when eunchae met wonyoung for the first time. 

smart, sexy lacy, i'm losin' it lately

i feel your compliments like bullets on skin

chaewon laughed as she leaned over and hugged wonyoung tightly. eunchae stood next to her leader, her hands clasped tightly, trying to conceal the tremor that ran through her fingers. the moment hung in the air like a fragile thread, as if the universe itself held its breath, waiting to see how this encounter would unfold. wonyoung's presence was magnetic, drawing everyone in with an effortless charm that seemed to defy the laws of gravity. her voice felt stuck in her throat, unable to form the words she longed to say. 

compliments that should have flown freely, expressing her admiration for the girl who had once been her beacon of inspiration, now felt like shards of glass, cutting her from the inside.

as chaewon and wonyoung exchanged pleasantries, eunchae's smile wavered, her eyes momentarily clouded with uncertainty. it was a subtle shift, one that might have gone unnoticed by others but not by her leader. chaewon, perceptive as always, sensed the inner battle raging within her youngest member. 

sensing eunchae's hesitation, the le sserafim leader gently nudged her forward, as if encouraging her to step into the spotlight. the young girl took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage she had left. “um, wonyoung sunbaenim, it's truly an honor to meet you,” she managed to say, her voice quivering ever so slightly.

the moment wonyoung’s eyes met hers, eunchae wanted to throw up.

when the taller girl spoke, her words were laced with a sincerity that cut through eunchae's defenses like a blade. “thank you,” she said, her voice carrying the weight of genuine appreciation. “i've seen a lot of your performances. unnie speaks highly of your group, you are all hard workers.”

wony’s praise, genuine and unfiltered, hung in the air like a double-edged sword. to any other listener, her words might have been a beacon of validation, but to eunchae, they were a reminder of the expectations now etched into her skin. 

her throat tightened, and she forced herself to swallow the lump that seemed lodged there, trying to respond with a gracious smile. “thank you,” eunchae managed, her voice barely above a whisper. her words felt inadequate, drowned out by the cacophony of her internal struggles. 

in that moment, she realized the weight of admiration was a double burden. it was building her up to knock her down.

the praise that was meant to inspire now felt like an anchor, chaining her to a pedestal she was not sure she could stand on. beside her, chaewon's grip tightened on her shoulder, a silent reassurance that felt both grounding and suffocating. eunchae wished she could voice her fears, her doubts, but the words remained lodged in her throat, silenced by the fear of exposing her vulnerability. 

the ive member’s smile never wavered, but her eyes, so full of wisdom beyond her years, seemed to see through the façade eunchae wore. it was a gaze that felt like an x-ray, peeling away the layers of her self-doubt and revealing the raw, unvarnished truth beneath. 

the room buzzed with conversation around them, but in that moment, eunchae felt like she was standing in the eye of a storm, where the world was still, and only her internal turmoil raged on. 

dazzling starlet, bardot reincarnate

well, aren't you the greatest thing to ever exist?

wonyuong was all anyone ever talked about. she was the perfect example of everything anyone ever wanted to be. and hong eunchae couldn’t feel any less inadequate.

everywhere eunchae turned, it seemed, there was a whisper of wonyoung's name, a fluttering echo of her successes that permeated the air. magazines showcased her flawless smile, billboards displayed her commanding presence, and social media platforms buzzed with her fans' adoration. 

wonyoung was not just an idol; she was an icon, a living embodiment of dreams realized. she was the epitome of grace, talent, and beauty – everything anyone ever aspired to become.

chaewon’s birthday was coming up, and the young girl wanted to make her a nice card. she spent 3 days cutting, gluing, and coloring together the perfect card for her leader.

when she finally showed chaewon, she felt proud of herself. and it would have been a perfect moment if not for the comment that she said.

“ah, this reminds me of when wonyoung used to make cards like this. you remember that?” chaewon said towards sakura, reminiscing on the past and lingering on the only girl who made eunchae feel everything she wasn’t. the japanese girl cooed at the remark and nodded her head, agreeing silently with the former izone member. 

eunchae knew her leader meant well, and it wasn’t a jab at her in any way directly, but she felt like she was invisible.

eunchae's heart sank at chaewon's innocent remark, the joy of her accomplishment instantly overshadowed by a wave of insecurity. the compliment meant to lift her spirits now felt like a cruel twist of fate, a reminder of the constant comparison that loomed over her, even in moments of genuine connection.

for the following days, eunchae found herself haunted by that moment. the specter of wonyoung's achievements seemed to follow her everywhere, even into the sanctuary of her practice room. the movements that had once flowed effortlessly became stilted, the melodies that used to inspire her now carried a bitter undertone. doubt, like an unwelcome companion, whispered in her ear, casting shadows on her every step. desperate to break free from this suffocating cycle, eunchae immersed herself in her training. 

the practice studio became her refuge, the place where she could pour her frustrations into every movement.

she practiced until her muscles ached and her breaths came in ragged gasps, hoping that with enough dedication, she could drown out the cacophony of comparison that echoed in her mind. yet, even in the midst of her determined efforts, the memory of chaewon's unintentional remark lingered, an invisible barrier between her and the confidence she so desperately sought.

 she felt like she was trapped in a never-ending loop, unable to escape the cycle of insecurity that threatened to consume her.

but there was nothing that eunchae wanted more than to be her own person in the eyes of the leader she admired so much.

ooh, i care, i care, i care

like ribbons in your hair, my stomach's all in knots

you got the one thing that i want

everything eunchae did seemed to only cement herself deeper into the shadow of jang wonyoung. 

in the following weeks, eunchae became acutely aware of the seemingly insurmountable chasm that separated her from wonyoung. every accomplishment, every effort to shine, only served to highlight the gap between them. despite her best attempts, the world around her continued to echo with wonyoung's name, a constant reminder of the impossible standards she was expected to meet. 

even within the confines of le sserafim, eunchae found herself walking on a tightrope of comparison. her every move, every note she sang, was scrutinized against the backdrop of wonyoung's flawless performances. the praise she received, though genuine, felt like a reluctant acknowledgment. even in the practice room, where she had once felt the most liberated, the young idol now felt even more of the weight of expectation pressing down on her shoulders. 

each dance move became a battleground, a chance to prove herself, to show that she was more than just a shadow of someone else's brilliance. yet, the more she pushed, the more she seemed to stumble, the movements losing their fluidity and grace under the weight of her insecurities. 

what did she bring to the table that was truly hers? what made her unique? what made her special?

what made her different from jang wonyoung?

“manchae?” 

chaewon’s soft voice rang out, snapping the young girl from her thoughts as she entered the practice room. it was 3 in the morning.

“unnie.” eunchae said, bowing in the direction of her leader. “you’re up late.” the leader added, walking over to the younger girl with a worried look on her face. “everything okay?”

the younger girl forced a smile and nodded. “i just want to make sure i have the dance break down.”

“i think you know it better than anyone at this point.” the older girl chuckled, gently patting the maknae’s head. “you should get some sleep soon.”

eunchae appreciated chaewon's concern, her leader's presence providing a comforting reassurance amidst the late-night silence of the practice room. the gentle pat on her head felt like a touch of understanding, a reminder that she wasn't alone in her relentless pursuit of perfection.

“i just want to make sure i get it right,” manchae said, her voice a soft murmur, filled with determination. “i want to be the best out there.” the leader’s eyes softened, her gaze reflecting a mix of admiration and concern for her youngest member. she took a step closer, her hand resting on eunchae's shoulder, grounding her with a touch that felt like a lifeline.

“eunbi unnie told me this before, and i’ll tell you it too. i even told wonyoung this.” chaewon leaned down to be level with the youngest member. 

“you cannot perform the best, without even a little bit of rest.”

there it was again. the sinking feeling, that anything eunchae did or heard, was just a reminder of wonyoung.

she wondered if wonyoung ever heard the leader say she’s told her the same things. why did it always have to be the other way around?

ooh, i try, i try, i try

try to rationalize, people are people, but

it's like you're made of angel dust

“but i can rest after our performance.” eunchae pushed lightly, motioning with her hands for emphasis. “that way i can know my rest is well earned.” chaewon chuckled softly, mentally noting how similar eunchae’s attitude was to wonyoung’s all that time ago. “you’re more stubborn than my last maknae.” she teased lightly, gently pushing the younger girl’s shoulder.

of course wonyoung took advice from her leaders. of course wonyoung would rest when told to. of course she did everything right.

unlike her sunbae, eunchae seemed to only do everything wrong.

the teasing words resonated in eunchae's mind, sparking a sharper pang of insecurity that she thought she had somewhat buried. as she watched her leader's retreating figure, a wave of self-doubt washed over her. the comparison to wonyoung, meant in jest, felt like a spotlight highlighting her perceived shortcomings.

once again, she was reminded of her place. 

lacy, oh, lacy, it's like you're out to get me

you poison every little thing that i do

lacy, oh, lacy, i just loathe you lately

and i despise my jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you

in the quiet, the room seemed to close in on her, the mirrors reflecting back an image she didn't recognize. the young girl who had once dreamed of being an idol, who had once danced with joy and passion, felt like a distant memory. 

now, in her place, stood a girl burdened by the shadow of comparison, questioning her every move, her every decision. 

she found herself spiraling into a cycle of negative thoughts, each one a barb digging deeper into her confidence. 

“maybe i'm just not cut out for this,” she whispered to the empty room, her voice barely audible above the distant hum of the air conditioning unit.

wonyoung was someone she once idolized. she was someone she looked up to and wanted to be exactly like.

was it wrong to say that she despised the girl now?

all she ever wanted was to be like wonyoung. and to hold a special place in her leader’s heart. but it seemed like she could do neither.

the question gnawed at her soul – what had she done wrong? why couldn't she be the person chaewon admired so deeply, the way she admired wonyoung? the uncertainty clawed at her, leaving her with a sense of isolation that cut deeper than any criticism from the outside world.

she wiped her watery eyes with the end of her sleeves. she was so caught up in her head that she didn’t realize the tears cascading down her face. as she gazed into her own eyes, red and puffy from crying, she finally admitted defeat.

hong eunchae would never be jang wonyoung. 

but maybe that was okay, even if right now it didn’t feel that way.

yeah, i despise my rotten mind and how much it worships you

a/n: this is my first fic that isn't an x reader...but i hope u guys like it :)

#eunchae #chaewon #wonyoung #izone #lesserafim #angst oneshot #lesserafim oneshot #izone oneshot #lacy olivia rodrigo #perfectsunlight

[ohnoitstbskyen]

Building a Better Ashe

About a year ago I took a pass at redesigning Ashe the Frost Archer from League of Legends with the help of Ainsworth "Apple_Cork" Lin (https://www.instagram.com/apple_cork/ || https://linktr.ee/apple_cork) who I commissioned for the artwork.

We took Ashe through a number of ideations and various approaches to her character design, which you'll find below the Read More cutoff.

If you want to watch the video version of our design process (it's pretty good!) you can find it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0fi5fuv1nLs

Goals:

The goal was to create a version of Ashe that puts less priority of simply making her "appealing" or look pretty, and more on doing storytelling for the kind of role she plays in the story of the Freljord.

Ashe as she exists now is basically a riff on the Drow Ranger from Dota, complete with WarCraft 3 style Hot Elven Ranger getup. She's a queen of the frozen north, but she runs around in a miniskirt, thigh-highs and a paper-thin cloak because

this design was originally put together to be running around sunny Elven forests on Azeroth, and got interpolated through Dota into League of Legends without ever really reconsidering the concept

it was designed for League of Legends at a time when worldbuilding and character storytelling simply were not priorities in their character design - characters were broad recognizable fantasy archetypes being thrown together Smash Bros style for a fighting tournament

Late 2000s high fantasy character design in gaming had a default preference for Sexy Cleavage Babes for female character design that permeated the entire design space, especially at Blizzard, whose influence formed the basis for League of Legends

Over a decade later, Ashe has been fleshed out as much more of a real character, with a place and role in the world and cosmology of the Freljord far beyond her original archetype. Now she is specifically constructed as a counterpart to Lissandra's imperious, manipulative, sovereign mysticism and to Sejuani's martial brutality. The Avarosa are the only faction in the Freljord (and one of the very few in Runeterra) who argue explicitly for a softer life with less violence and struggle as the ideal. Ashe wants to reform and abolish the blood-soaked warrior culture of the Freljord and replace it with communal mutual aid and sharing, with tribes pooling their collective resources rather than relying on constant raiding and warfare. She's also a notable champion of the Hearthbound, the "normal" people of the Freljord who are not blessed with Iceborn blood or noble lineages.

The Avarosa have successfully recruited a huge swath of tribes to their cause, and through collaboration and a focus on agriculture and mutual protection have become the breadbasket of the Freljord, able to extend their political reach simply by offering new tribes access to reliable sources of food.

The power and rhetoric of the Avarosa thus rests on

A rejection of martial warrior culture in favor of a culture of nurturing and mutual care

Embrace of vulnerability and "weakness"

The promise of plenty, of full food stores and protection from failed harvests and the bitter winter cold

So, the design goals are:

Contrast Ashe visually with both Lissandra and especially with Sejuani, who is her most direct opposite.

Tell the story not only of Ashe herself, but of the faction she represents, and represent its values in her design.

Make her unique and recognizable against the lineup of other League of Legends characters in a way that currently she simply isn't.

Early ideation:

Here we start by identifying silhouettes and the basic ideas of costuming that we want to run with. Since League of Legends women also generally have a bad case of Chronic Sameface Syndrome, we also explore a bunch of different face shapes and ideas for distinguishing Ashe physically outside of costuming and body shape.

Refinement:

We pick out a smaller number of variations to play with, and Apple_Cork explores various options for the costuming.

At this point we've settled on two main ideas: a "Warrior" Ashe, who is characterized by the hard life she's had to lead. Her struggles and suffering, especially the loss of her mother and the betrayal of Sejuani, are the emotional impetus that leads to her reaching the ideals of the Avarosans as an antidote to and rebellion against the Freljord's bloody history. We decide to use the A2 and A3 variation as a base for this, with addition of details like scarring and a somewhat bulkier musculature. This runs the risk of making her physically quite similar to Sejuani, which is a trade-off that might be worth it since the two of them are repeatedly positioned as sisters (even if not by blood) in their stories, and are very alike in their experiences and traumas, even if they've reached opposite conclusions from it.

The other idea is "Warmother Ashe." The Freljord is organized around matrilineal tribal leadership, with a significant emphasis on the social role of motherhood, with the leader of the tribe conceptualized as its primary mother figure. Most Warmothers we've known are hard-bitten, violent and domineering matriarchs, emphasizing the war bit of the name, and since Ashe represents a decisive break with that tradition, we want to create a design that puts emphasis on the mother part of the idea.

So an Ashe who is visually soft, associated with typical traits of nurturing motherhood and who visibly rejects struggle, deprivation and violence as part of her identity. The C1 and C2 variations form the basis for this character.

Both designs are intended to provide a strong visual contrast to the stark black-and-blue statuesque angularity of Lissandra, as well as the armored, hard-shelled, segmented look of Sejuani

A note on body politics and character design

It is generally Problematic™ to equate any one body type with any one set of personality traits, whether positively or negatively. A lot of common character design associations and shorthand is based on body stereotypes, and on a systemic scale, they can reinforce existing social bigotries.

The most common example: character design often employ the idea that good people tend to be beautiful and evil people tend to be ugly, and that a person's inner moral character can be read in their physical traits.

This is a trope with an extremely bad history, especially when it intersects with the politics of beauty, with eugenics and with racial caricature. Whiteness and the constructed features of whiteness are often used as the basis of beauty ideals, while traits and features associated with non-whiteness are considered ugly or undesirable, and thus in visual storytelling these traits can become markers of moral degeneracy or evil. Disney villains do this all the time, to various degrees of Problematicness.

I bring this up here because we decided to use a fat body-type on one of our Ashe designs specifically to code the design to be associated with softness, kindness, motherly nurturing and so on. These are positive traits, and it is meant to establish her as a contrast with Sejuani who is hard-edged, muscled and brutal. But also, yeah, fat bodies being associated with those traits is a reductive stereotype, just the same as associating highly trained, skinny and fit bodies with emotional coldness, lack of kindness and violence is reductive.

Character design is a tightrope walk between using available associations and stereotypes to create coding and shorthand so the audience can easily read the design on the one hand, and trying to redefine and re-associate traits in creative ways to create better storytelling on the other hand. League of Legends is a game that relies very, very heavily on existing and known archetypes, and we redesigned Ashe on those terms as well. It is fair to criticize our redesign for those trade-offs, within reason, and within the context of the problems of the design it is intended to improve upon. League of Legends as a franchise is generally unwilling to allow fat bodies to exist in ANY positive context, and especially not in women, whose visual priority 9 times out of 10 is to be conventionally beautiful and skinny above all else.

Final designs:

Warrior Ashe This design hews closer to her original design, employing the skirt, waist-wrap and thigh-high boots, albeit updated to look more appropriate for the fashion culture and environment of the Freljord.

The emphasis here is on Ashe as a war-leader and fighter, and we've added facial scars and her design generally features more hard and sharp lines and metallic accents to give her a more hard-bitten and warlike look. This is an Ashe who has led a heard and difficult life, marked by fighting and struggle.

Warmother Ashe This design pulls away hard from the original design, with only really the hood and cloak and white hair as identifying feature of the old version. She wears a lot of fabrics and furs, and is generally designed around stoutness and visual softness, and does not share the hardness or angular facial features of Warrior Ashe. Her clothes are finely embroidered with her tribe's iconography and she has pendants and trinkets associated with the various tribes that have been integrated into the Avarosa, or perhaps gifted to her by allies or friends.

She still has leather chest armor, albeit covered up by her cloak, and a shoulder pauldron, but it's ringed by fine feathers making it more of a showpiece. Same with the archery bracer, which is ostentatious and the bright brass makes it contrast with the rest of the design, which is meant to give the vibe of "this is a thing she puts on when necessary" but not a natural, integrated part of her fashion. Compare and contrast with the bracers on Warrior Ashe above.

---

Please follow Apple_Cork on Instagram: http://instagram.com/apple_cork

#tb essay #league of legends #riot games #freljord #ashe league of legends #warmother #sejuani #lissandra #ashe lol #character design #tbskyen

[thebloodredraven]

Akatsuki Secret [sub] Kinks - Part I

lineup: itachi uchiha, hidan, konan, sasori warnings: mentions and descriptions of rough sex, degradation, dumbification, mommy kink, humiliation, r*pe play, and edging, gender inclusive

- x - notes: I've had this in my drafts for a little while (a year lmao), but I couldn't get Hidan fleshed out tbh. His was hard. Anyways: minors do not interact, comment or reblog if you like it, and make sure to support other fanfic writers ♥ I only do these when the moment strikes so idk when the second part will be published but it'll get done! thanks ♥ - x -

Itachi: degredation/humiliation

Sure, he could be the best pleasure dom you've ever come across ever. Ever. But have you considered he gives you all the praise because he's tired of hearing it for himself? Every waking minute of his life, he has to hear about how great he is. How powerful he is. How nobody will ever amount to his power and prowess as a shinobi. Praise, envy, recognition, infamy, compliments, shoe-shining, ass-kissing, blah blah blah blah blah. He's heard it all before and he's sick of it.

You can't convince me he wouldn't fold, or at least pause him in his tracks, if someone told him he wasn't as special as everyone claimed he was. That he wasn't worth the hype. That you expected more from someone with his name. That the way he was writhing and keening from your fingers milking his prostate because he hates being edged was unbecoming of him. That Uchiha pride of his would fight back against the accusations and his eyes would burn with hatred, but the beet-red blush that covers his entire face and chest while you're impaling his wet throat tells you he feels otherwise.

That man wants to be spit on and called a cock-sucking whore while he's ass up taking a strap. Call him pathetic. Tell him how stupid he looks with his fucked-out face smothered in the pillows and slick all over his chin from when you sat on his face and smothered him until he couldn't breathe. Laugh at him when he begs for air by tapping your thighs. Ask him how he'd feel if his entire family could see him in a position that would bring the whole clan to shame, and he'd feel freer and more liberated than he has his whole life cause all the expectations people placed on him are GONE and he can just be your dumb little toy.

Konan: dominatrix

I feel it in my gut that this woman is a dominatrix at certain times. She feels like a switch, but the few times she needs to be in that special space? Needs to feel some semblance of control because everything else around her is out of her grasp because someone else has what she wants in their clutches? That's when she slips into that headspace.

Unlike Itachi as a pleasure dom, she's a no-nonsense woman and expects to be obeyed. You'll be rethinking about how you backtalked her when your top half is hanging off the bed while she fucks you with a brutality she learned to harness on the battlefield, the only thing keeping you from falling being her strong grip on your hips.

You've got drool sliding down your cheek and a tight grip on her wrist while she forces moan after moan after moan from you until you're screaming and crying for her to stop. Because after four messy, powerful orgasms you can't take it anymore. It's too much. She'll slow down once she sees you sobbing and bend down to kiss away your tears, letting you get a breather, but she's not pulling out. In fact, you're too dazed by her lips to realize the meaning behind her sliding her hands up your body to rest at the juncture of your neck. She presses one more tender kiss to your ears before whispering in a deceptively kind voice, "I know it's a lot, baby. But you know tears don't move me. Until I hear that safe word, you're going to take it until I'm satisfied you've learned your lesson. Now stop whining and spread your legs wider. You're in for a long night."

Hidan: dumbification/tenderness

You'd think this one would be easy because what you see is what you get most of the time with Hidan: a sadomasochistic pain-obsessed BDSM freak with very little boundaries. He typically requires a lot from sexual partners because that's all he's used to: intensity. Everything with him is always blood, violence, screaming, sacrifice, Jashin, Jashin, Jashin, kill, kill, kill. R8P play, flogging, knife play, golden showers, and even killing him are not above his desires. But this is about secret kinks. There are enough fanfics about him loving the thrill of being bullied by big muscular men to the nth degree, but what's something he'd keep hidden from everyone else? One he might actually feel embarrassed about sharing with someone? One he'd go to great lengths to hide because it's the one thing he's ashamed about feeling like he needs? It's not a kink at all. It's a human emotion that he craves to feel during the moment more than he's willing to admit: It's tenderness. It's making love to him to slow his mind down and coaxing his orgasms from him in a way that doesn't overstimulate him and watching him make sense of it. It's enacting acts of violence against his body with spiked whips, chain-shibari, and barbed wire but pressing a kiss to his fresh, bloodied wounds at the same time. It's making him understand that he craves violence and hedonism because it's the only form of control he ever has and taking it away from him is a risk you love him enough to take. It's being in the throes of pleasure and getting him right to his peak before forcing him to keep eye contact as his pleasure spills over and wracks through his body in waves because of the softness and admiration aimed towards him at his most vulnerable. He'll NEVER admit it out loud and he'd actually kill you if you brought it up any time outside of the bedroom, but you know. He knows you know. It works out.

Sasori: MMlb/DDlb

I see this man portrayed as a hard dom 98% of the time and I'm not mad about it, but........ The same man that figuratively and literally wears a hard shell of a mask to hide his vulnerable and delicate nature? The man that finds beauty in the most macabre things because it's everlasting and immortal, therefore will always be remembered and praised? The man that found peace after death because someone finally understood him? The man that created puppets of his parents for some form of connection to the intimacy that he was robbed of? The Scorpio? That man needs a Mommy with a capital M. He wants to be nurtured. He wants to be held. He wants someone else to hold the strings to his heart for a change. That bad attitude and mean streak doesn't change the fact that that man is a bottom; a bottom leaning switch at MOST.

#are these actual headcanons or am I projecting because I'm a dom? the world may never know #akatsuki headcanons #itachi uchiha #itachi x reader #sasori #sasori x reader #hidan #hidan x reader #konan naruto #konan x reader #the akatsuki #naruto #naruto shippuden headcanons #naruto shippuden

[videogamepoc]

Note on article and article title: This article does heavy work to continuously refer to Hamas as terrorists, and it refers only to the October 7 events in their attempt to delineate the history of Palestine and Hamas, failing to mention the decades long history of occupation and war inflicted on Palestine by the state of Israel. This is a skewed historical overview of the occupation and genocide. I've removed that part below. If you want to read it, click on the link above. Furthermore, the title poorly depicts the reasons behind the boycott, which go beyond the single comment about Hamas that this actress made.

Overwatch fans are calling for the recasting of Pharah—one of the game's lineup of DPS heroes—following comments on the current situation in Israel and Palestine made by her voice actor, Jen Cohn, in a TikTok and YouTube livestream. In response to viewers commenting "free Palestine" in the chat of one of her Ask Bird Mom livestreams on February 12, Cohn said "Yes, free Palestine from Hamas." Cohn, who is Jewish, then expressed her wish for Palestinian "autonomy" and "safety," but angered some viewers by referring to Israel's campaign in Gaza as a "war" and saying that "when both sides are able to stop fighting, it will be wonderful." Some Overwatch fans were incensed at language that presented the last several months of violence as an equal conflict between two evenly matched sides, and saw it as an attempt to whitewash Israel's actions. The comments sparked an intense negative backlash. Cohn has spoken about Israel and Palestine on social media before, which is likely what led to fans commenting "Free Palestine" on her stream in the first place. But although Cohn has done things like criticise the use of "from the river to the sea" chants among "well-intentioned, good young people" at pro-Palestine protests on Instagram, her comments on stream elicited a bigger reaction. Many viewers were angered by what they saw as the drawing of a false equivalence and the use of obfuscatory language. Israel has drawn widespread condemnation for its campaign in Gaza, with 29,000 Palestinians—two-thirds women and children—reportedly killed and the International Court of Justice finding it "plausible" that Israel's actions could amount to genocide. At another point in the stream, Cohn remarked "that is not a very 'values of Overwatch' thing to say" in response to a comment reading "Free Palestine [flag emoji] new Pharah voice actor > >," which also caused anger. Cohn noted in a comment to PC Gamer that her remark was directed at "the call to have my role recast" and not the support for Palestine. "When I heard calls for my replacement—because I’m Jewish, because I love and support my people, because the ways I call for peace differ from the ways someone else calls for peace—it seemed to really run counter to those [Overwatch] beliefs," said Cohn. But to angered fans, Cohn's statements don't read like a call for peace but as an equivocation masking a one-sided campaign of violence. "I hope this is enough to show why fans want Jen Cohn recasted," said a tweet from an Overwatch fan that attracted nearly 3,000 likes on Twitter, "she is doubling down on her pro-Israel beliefs and this isn't a joke, this is a genocide happening right in front of us and she supports that." Other widely liked and shared tweets call on Blizzard to recast Pharah, accusing Cohn of spreading "Zionist propaganda" using a platform provided by her role in the game and of ignoring Arab suffering while voicing a character of Arabic descent. Numerous other examples of anger at Cohn's comments can be found across social media, with some calling for a boycott of Overwatch's ninth season until Pharah is recast. Meanwhile, a Change.org petition to recast Pharah's voice actor has attracted over 4,300 signatures at time of writing and its description reads that, "as of now, a beloved Arab and Indigenous Canadian character Pharah of Overwatch is being voiced by a woman with video evidence of her making zionistic statements… Jen Cohn has made countless statements denying the genocide of Palestinians calling it 'war' and claiming that the Palestinians must be freed from Hamas not Israel." It implores signees to take to Twitter with the hashtag #RecastPharah to show support.

Link to the Change.org petition:

#fareeha amari #pharah #overwatch #overwatch 2 #blizzard entertainment #palestine #free palestine #articles #petitions #recastpharah

[moonpetrichors-blog]

First Time?

Tags: College!Eren x Reader, Oneshot, Fem!Reader, Uni AU, Shotgunning, Very Slight Jean x Reader, Suggestive Elements, But Weirdly Wholesome Ending

Warnings: Weed, Recreational Drug Use, Alcohol, Drunken Behavior (Nothing Non-Con, But Under The Influence)

You have never smoked before. Eren takes it upon himself to give you an unforgettable experience.

Lemme just say. Me and @beesandpollen were screaming the other night about shotgunning our favs, so I bring to u the eren version 💪

* ˚ ✦ 2246 Words • Read below the cut

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-╰┈➤ ❝ [09/03/23] ❞

Sitting on your bed in your shared dorm, you've been slaving away to your college assignments. The sound of typing resounded in the room, never let up by the urgency to finish; that is, until your roommate walked in.

Sasha made her entrance wearing a yellow, bodycon slip dress and stunning heels. She glowered at your laptop while sweeping her hair over her shoulder, and it fell victim to the bag of chips in her other hand.

"Y/N! Get off your laptop and come to this party with me!"

Sasha at her finest. You were best friends, but you were also polar opposites; Sasha, who loved to party and was the more outgoing of the two of you, and you, who sat at home all day completing schoolwork. It's regular for her to drag you out of the dorm.

You ran your fingers through your hair in resignation. "I can't. Why don't you go with Connie?"

"Because I'm not letting you stay here like a nerd and miss out. Besides, my friend is throwing this party! I'll introduce you."

She finished that sentence with a wink.

You groaned. "I have nothing to wear though." You fanned out your hand to the pile of clothes on your chair, the majority of them being sweatpants and plain t-shirts.

"Not to worry!" Sasha dashed back into her room, which was adjacent to yours, and emerged brandishing the shortest, shiniest black dress she owned like a trophy.

She threw it at you. "Put that on!"

You caught the material and mulled over wearing it in public for a moment. You hesitated, yet Sasha seemed expectant, and you knew you rarely spent time with her outside of the dorm; not like she was in most of the time.

You drew your eyes away from the dress, and to Sasha. "Who'd you say is throwing this party again?"

She grinned. "Jean."

...

You couldn't stop fidgeting with the hem of your dress in the car. Was it too short? Was it a mistake for you to tag along? You hoped you wouldn't embarrass yourself at this party. You saw Sasha's fingers neatly spin the wheel, and then you were parked, alongside numerous other cars before the gate.

Those concerns dissipated the moment you stepped into the frat house. The low-light space was crowded with dancing, sweating bodies, couples making out in corners, and inebriated games being played. As you surveyed the scene, the music blaring made it difficult to hear Sasha clearly.

And then she was gone.

You presumed she had left to greet her other friends, but you felt out of place in this strange environment. Nevertheless, you immediately noticed something to cheer you up. You pushed your way past the throng of dancers to the liquor, and snatched a bottle before finding your way somewhere private.

Which was an extremely difficult endeavour.

Bedrooms? You wished you could wash your eyes out. Bathrooms? Outside, there are long lineups. But all hope was not lost. You located a double door that led out to a balcony and settled down to drink in quiet. The view would have been much better if there hadn't been drunken fighting in your field of sight.

A cough resounded next you after a minute or so of you sipping in solitude. Breaking out of your trance, you raised your eyes to check who the voice belonged to. You rose up as soon as you detected the face in your blurry thoughts, mortified that you had intruded on this man's space.

"Sorry, I'll find somewhere else to drink." You strode back towards the double doors.

"Don't worry about it. Stay."

You became immobilized. You couldn't leave now since it would be impolite, so you pivoted on your heel and sat down again, this time facing the man. You eventually had the opportunity to register his features, and it stole your breath away.

He was stunning. In a gentle, incisive, and handsome way. The angular contours of his jaw and nose stood out against his emerald eyes and dark, fluttering eyelashes; he resembled a striking image on a tanned canvas.

The subtle shape of his muscles were apparent through his clothing, but you couldn't tear your gaze away from his hair, which was pulled back in a bun. He had some stray hairs that fell out, but they framed his face nicely, and his unassuming quirks made him all the more charming.

He chuckled, and your heart stopped. Fuck, he had dimples too.

"I'm Eren."

You quickly remembered your name before making a fool of yourself. It took you a moment to realise who he was. You knew he was Jean's friend because of Sasha, but you'd be a fool if that was the only reason you recognized him. No, he was the devastatingly gorgeous heartbreaker on campus; a fuckboy, if you will. On the way to their classes, several girls on campus marveled over him, and you scoffed to yourself, wondering how someone could be that attractive.

Now you knew.

You raised the bottle to your lips, desperate to slake your nerves. Eren, on the other hand, was pretty mellow. He had a forthright disposition, and a daunting aura around him as he leant back in his chair. The way he handled himself exuded virility, but his voice was warm and melodious. It gave you whiplash.

You two chatted and drank for a time, and as the conversation progressed, you warmed up to him more. You eventually discovered that you both had Sasha as a mutual friend and smiled at the amusing anecdotes you had to share with each other.

You didn't even realize how engrossed in your own story you were until Eren planted a rough hand on your upper thigh. Your words died in your throat, but he kneaded your skin with pampering hands, his mesmerizing gaze coaxing you on. The tension was palpable.

You were almost lured in by the action. Yet, knowing who he is and where you were, he couldn't anticipate you to fall at his feet right away; you understood what he was doing, and he'd play right into your hands.

You rose up from your seat, drunkenly assertive, and slid in between his thighs. He had to crane his head to look at you, and you could swear you saw a blush dust his sun-kissed cheeks; so he can dish it out but not take any back.

You could work with this.

You gravitated towards him, capturing his chin with your deft fingers and relaxed your hand on his thigh instead of your alcoholic beverage. He was almost enraptured as your fingers traveled from his leg to your own, removing his hand from where it was situated. You patted his cheek twice as you laughed at his panicked expression.

"Not with me, pretty boy."

He flashed you a cute, loopy smile, beaming those dimples that made your heart skip a beat. "You think I'm pretty?"

It was in this moment of close proximity you could see his sharp canines, and you trembled. Everything about him was attractive to you.

All too soon, you drew away from him, declaring firmly that you were tired of this party. He could see it all over your face as well.

Eren stood up, and cocked his head toward the doors. "Wanna get out of here?"

You wanted to think his words had a literal meaning behind them, but that mischievous twinkle in his eyes warned you otherwise. Was it a terrible idea to become entangled with Eren? Probably. Do you give a damn? Not at all.

So you concurred. You took his hand in yours and guided him out of the party, resolving to go back to your place; you received some strange looks from certain people, but that should be expected with a man like Eren trailing you. You knew Sasha would crash with her friends, and Eren is too cute to pass up; however, just as you approached the entryway, another individual blocked your path.

Eren waved at him with three fingers raised. "Yo, Jean."

After shaking hands, the man smiled at the familiar face and bumped shoulders with Eren. The guy Sasha intended to introduce you to sized you up, and you shuddered beneath his scrutinizing gaze; he smirked at Eren after, earning him an eyeroll and playful punch to the arm on the way out.

You knew what the wink meant, and you offered Eren a knowing glance. The thought of what awaited you beyond that door enthralled you, and the walk to your car was quiet.

...

Eren climbed into the driver's seat with ease, relaxing with one hand on the wheel. He appeared impatient, wholly immersed in his thoughts.

He looked pretty when he was focused, too. Despite his lackadaisical appearance, he was endearingly cautious on the road.

Throughout the drive, you attempted to break the charged silence by talking about something insignificant, and Eren ultimately became engaged in the conversation.

"So how come we've never met before? You know, since we have mutual friends and all."

You whistled in acknowledgement. "I don't really do parties. I spend more time studying than I do going out."

His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, and his derisive laugh almost embarrassed you. Almost.

"Y/N, you gotta live a little. Do you even smoke?"

Your voice died in your throat.

The way he snapped his head to look at you in bemusement, his thick brows shooting straight to his forehead, was almost comical. "You don't?"

He could have crashed, but he maintained his cool and kept the car steady. You flushed with shame when he laughed, and he pulled over somewhere secluded.

He ran his hand through his dark hair, and looked at you with that killer smile of his again. "Do you want to try it?"

You nodded, but there was one worry gnawing away at you. "What if it burns? I'll definitely cough."

He chuckled. "I can fix that for you."

...

You were all but scandalised when he delved into his pocket and pulled out rolling paper and weed before rolling the joint. It shouldn't have excited you so much, but when his tongue escaped to lick a stripe across the seal, you shifted in your seat. He noticed it as well, but said nothing.

Eren inhaled deeply after flicking his lighter at the end of the joint. You were transfixed as he breathed out the smoke and turned to face you. "Your turn."

He mimicked your earlier motions by holding your chin, but this time dragging his thumb along your lip. You obeyed an unspoken command to open your mouth. You were not prepared for what Eren did next.

He raised the joint to his lips and inhaled again, but this time instead of exhaling, he pressed against you. Your noses brushed up against each other, and one slight movement would have sealed his lush lips against yours. You couldn't bring yourself to move; Eren blew smoke into your mouth, and you inhaled it greedily, much easier than you expected.

You nearly coughed when your focus drifted to Eren. As he watched your mouth consume the smoke, his gaze had darkened significantly, and those charming eyes were now staring at you through his lashes. His eyes were dangerously green, and you had the impression that he could see right through you.

That electrical tension had returned. Eren grew animalistic and crossed the distance between you two the instant you exhaled the smoke against him. He pressed his lips to yours and moved fervently against you, cradling your neck in his hand, skillfully pushing you deeper into the kiss; your own lips parted in surprise, and he took advantage of the moment to sneak his tongue in, subduing you with his mouth. Throughout, you could feel his ravenous desperation, and smoking had only made you feel buoyant.

Eren drew back, biting your lip as he interrupted the kiss and shifted to take another hit. He puffed smoke in your face this time, and he thought it was adorable how your face screwed up in response. But it didn't dissuade you; instead, it enticed you much more. Still holding the joint, Eren turned the other end towards you so you could smoke from his hand and imitate his actions.

You do as instructed, inhaling slowly. It was an odd sensation. Your senses were strangely heightened, a wave of calm washing over you. You would feel much more at ease with Eren if it weren't for his overwhelming influence on you.

You exhaled the smoke into Eren's mouth, closing it with a kiss like he did. You felt proud when he smiled.

He pulled away. "You did good."

The praise did nothing to help your heart.

...

You both felt hazy long after your smoking session was over. Eren was the first to bring up something that you had completely forgotten about.

He laughed dumbly. "You know we can't drive to your place like this, right?"

You chuckled along with him, recognizing he was right. The original reason you got in the car with him was lost, and the revelation that dawned on your features must've hit him as well.

He suddenly appeared apprehensive, not about to do something to you under the influence. "We don't have to-"

You shushed him. "Wanna go get food instead?"

He gave you another of those brilliant smiles. "Sure."

Your midnight escapade could wait another time.

#↳˳🖤;; ❝ oneshot ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: #oneshot #aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #oneshot aot #aot oneshot #eren #eren yeager #eren jaeger #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeagar x reader #college au #university au #fuckboy eren #Shotgunning #recreational drug use #sasha braus #sasha blouse #jean kirstein #female reader #modern au #aot modern au #manbun eren #jean x reader #jean kirschstein x reader #LIKE VERY SLIGHTLY #wholesome ending

[justporo]

A Night of Song and Laughter (Part 7)

In which Tav really only wants to drown her sorrow in alcohol. And Astarion is basically being a very good boyfriend and also makes use of what he calls "handsome face and nice smile tax". (Basically imagine the Tiktok sound "what do I owe you? / don't worry it's on the house / reeeeaaally?" - anyone know what I mean?) Also Tav, Astarion, Daegin and Lira raise a toast!

Fun fact about this story: when I started writing this I thought it was gonna be a fun, quick three-part adventure. Now we are already nine parts deep that I've written and I am still not done... I was so naive... I will do a post tomorrow to make a chapter list of this, also... would you people like to be tagged? Tips on how to organise that in an efficient way? And always: thank you, thank you, thank you for all the love and support!

Song for this one: Drinks by Cyn (because Tav needs it)

And if you'd like: keep reading on on AO3!

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You)

(Gif from here!)

“Before you undress me, Astarion dearest, remember there is a snoring dwarf between us”, you proclaimed dryly as the vampire spawn made to lean over the table and stretched out his hand to caress your cheek. Also, a voice inside you wondered how smart it had been for Astarion to reveal his real being to these two arseholes.

“If he wasn’t conscious for the whole fight and me threatening your ex with writing my name with his blood on the wall, I think he’d neither notice nor object”, Astarion replied with a lopsided smile, but you could see the primal hunger in his eyes had subsided – for now. A look of worry now filled his eyes.

Lira chose this moment to return to the table, her arms full with everyome’s drinks. She stood on her tiptoes to lift everything on the table while trying not to spill everything.Then she huffed at Astarion and poked a finger into his chest: “I’ll have you know it is not very nice to leave me not only to carry everything but also to skip out of the tab. I barely had enough gold on me to pay for everything.” Lira looked angrily at Astarion and he had the good grace to look ashamed. “I’m sorry, Lira dear, but I had to check on Tav real quick. I’m hopeful you’ll understand and forgive me for my insolence.” He bowed gracefully before your friend which made her giggle and blush. “Apology accepted”, she beamed and went to look around the pretty empty table “Uhm, did you being worried about Tav have anything to do with Miyena and Eodin disappearing or…?” She let the sentence go on open-ended.

Her eyes were on Astarion, his eyes were on you, yours were on the two now ownerless shots of strong spirit that Lira had just brought to the table. You sighed deeply, then downed the first – Lira blinked surprisedly – then the second – her mouth opened helplessly – then started to have a go at your glass of red wine – and now even Astarion raised his eyebrows at you.

The vampire swiftly and silently moved over to you, putting a hand between your shoulderblades as you let your head slump on the table with a loud thud. All the rage you had felt like two minutes ago had suddenly vanished and had only left exhaustion in its place. The jolt of your head hitting the table made the glasses and goblets on the table jump and prompted Daegin to wake from his peaceful slumber. He found his mug in front of him, happily took a deep swallow but stopped abruptly when he noticed there was only water in it. Only when he had made a disgusted noise did he notice the changed lineup around the table and the sudden depressed mood.

“I guess, I fucked up”, you mumbled. Astarion drew calming circles between your shoulders but remained silent. Daegin, who seemed much more sober now than a few minutes ago, coughed and cleared his throat: “Could you repeat that? I don’t have elven hearing.”

“I fucked up”, you said louder, raising your head again and making a grimace. Then you borrowed your face in your hands again. “Why, because you two drove Miyena and Eodin off?”, the dwarf answered. You lifted your hands out of your hands a fraction to look at your friend. His sudden somber tone startled you. “Gotta be honest, wish I’d had the balls to do that quite some time ago”, he said and reached over the table to give your hands a quick squeeze. You watched him quizzically. That wasn’t exactly the reaction you had expected.

Astarion kept his hand reassuringly on your back, it slowly wandered up your spine. “I’m glad I could be of service then”, he chuckled softly and toasted to the dwarf before taking a long swig from his goblet of wine. You mimicked him, still not entirely relieved and still feeling empty from the unpleasant exchange. You almost drained your glass completely – right now you could’ve really enjoyed a nice buzz to forget this shipwreck off an evening; this alcohol better got to work soon. But getting yourself drunk wasn’t an easy task as an elf.

“Why though? What in the hells happened while I was away? I thought we were all thick as thieves – hah!”, you giggled at your own terrible joke than drank the rest of your wine. When you put down the now empty glass you tried to reach for Astarion’s cup that still contained a lot of his drink. But he caught you immediately and smoothly moved it out of your reach. You clicked your tongue at him – damned rogue.

Then Lira spoke: “Well, we don’t really know as well. It just seems – you were really the one who glued us all together. Quickly after you’d disappeared Miyena and Eodin seemed to have become closer. And, well, I know it sounds mean when I say it like that…” She started fidgeting. Astarion’s hand had reached your neck and softly started to knead the tense spots there. You melted into his cool touch.

Lira seemed to struggle to find the right words. “I don’t think you need to worry about being nice when it comes to these two”, Astarion chimed in “I’ve known them for the better part of one single evening and was already prepared to take out all their innards -  I assure you, not a common sentiment for me when meeting new people. And after how they treated Tav…”, his words slowed for a moment. Both Daegin and Lira looked shocked at first at the vampire’s open desire for violence but quickly turned to asking facial expressions after Astarion’s mention of their behaviour towards you. You swatted their questioning glances away with your hand since you didn’t want to go into that again. “Well”, Astarion said and the following words contained a faint hiss in his tone: “They both deserve whatever words you can find for them.”

With Astarion’s encouragement Lira seemingly decided that he was right: “Well, Eodin is such a…”, she struggled for a moment, obviously still not feeling comfortable with trying to not be nice “gullible idiot!” „Not the words, I’d have chosen, but alright“, you heard Astarion whisper under his breath while the half-elf broke into a rant so intense her braid of black hair started trembling. You chuckled at your partners silent remark and finally lifted your head up from your hands and leaned into him. You moved one arm behind his waist and slowly put your head on his shoulder to give him the time and space to decide if he felt comfortable with this soft display of affection. But when he felt you putting your arm around him he immediately pulled you in and pressed a small kiss on the crown of your head. His closeness felt so good you’d almost already forgotten how awry this evening had seemed to go only some minutes ago.

Meanwhile, Lira was still at it with some remarks from Daegin. Explaining how the tiefling seemingly had influenced Eodin (“this, dare I say… arsehole”, she whispered at one point to which Astarion proudly toasted her in a “hear, hear”-fashion) to take their thief business down other roads.

Of course, they always had been thieves, but Miyena’s vision had been bigger, more dangerous and would have definitely crossed a line. You had always chosen clients and contracts with the utmost care: checking background information, trying not to harm innocent people and deciding democratically. But the tiefling had wanted to take on contracts that could have harmed the hierarchy of powers in the city, hurting those that already almost had nothing. And Eodin had listened, seemingly hurt by your disappearance and he’d eaten up the ideas and the manipulation by Miyena. It had tainted him and had also tainted his image of you. Also, Lira and Daegin had talked for quite some time about getting out of the business altogether, to go why they still could and cut it with a profit.

“To conclude”, Daegin said, when the half-elf had reached a point in her rant that she was completely red in the face and could barely speak “Miyena is a goddamn snake and a bitch and Eodin is an…” At this point Astarion lifted a hand – the one that was not currently holding you - and proposed with a smirk: “Wait, before you finish, Daegin, this sounds like an excellent point to toast, don’t you think?” The dwarf had looked taken aback by the elf’s interruption but seemed to have been reconciled with the promise of more alcohol. Lira looked like she had calmed herself down a bit and nodded in approval. Astarion looked down to you softly: “Will you let go of me, my love, just for a moment? I know it’s an awful lot to ask…” You playfully pout at him but untangle yourself from him slowly. “You want me to help you carry stuff?”, you ask him. But the pale elf just winked and swiftly and disappears in the still growing crowd.

How was there even more space in here? And why the hell were there even so many people coming? Maybe it was a special band that made an appearance tonight? You stood on your tiptoes to try and throw a look downstairs. You could see the stage was currently empty except for two halflings seemingly preparing it for the next act. In hindsight you wondered how long there had been no music and only the busy bustling of the crowd in the background. But it wasn’t really a surprise you didn’t really pay attention to the stuff happening around you tonight, was it?

“Gods, you two are so cute”, said Daegin and pulled back your attention “it’s making my damn teeth hurt.” Then he spit out and stuck out his tongue theatrically as if there had been something bile in his mouth. “They are, aren’t they?”, the half-elf agreed in earnest, oblivious to Daegin’s act. She moved over to you and hugged you: “I’m so happy you two found each other, you seem perfect for each other.” You hugged her back hard: “Sorry, I caused such a mess for you.” “Don’t worry about it, Tav, I was always sure that this thieving was hopefully only a temporary business. I mean I am a bit scared because I don’t know what to do yet, but I’m happy to make a clean cut now”, Lira replied, Daegin nodded in agreement.

“Whatever happens, you and your pale boyfriend must come and hang out with us again though. He’s funny and good to drink with”, the dwarf grinned at you. “Oh, and what about my company?”, you answered quickly and raising your eyebrows at him. “I can bare with that, as long as Astarion’s coming”, Daegin answered with playful banter and motioned with his head towards where Astarion was only just returning.

“Did I hear my name? Fret not, I have returned, my friends!” He put a big bottle of liquor on the table, pushed a mug of water towards you with a teasing look of worry in his eyes – you flipped him off. And then Astarion artfully threw four shotglasses from around his back one by one and set them down in front of everyone around the table. Lira cheered and clapped at his display of sleight of hand. Astarion bowed gracefully then went to uncork the bottle of spirit.

“How did you get the whole bottle? Far as I knew they save these for special occasions and special customers only. Whose pants did you charm off for this? Did you strip naked for the bar maid, or something?”, Daegin asked him suspiciously and eyed Astarion up and down. His clothes looked just as well in place as they were a few minutes ago, though.

“Not this time”, Astarion replied while filling everyone’s glasses. “I just asked about the bottle in the back and well, the rest I call the ‘handsome face and nice smile tax’. I even got it for free”, he explained with a smug grin. “You flirted with the bar maid to get us liquor? You are unbelievable, Astarion”, you exclaimed and pressed two fingers to the root of your nose, closing your eyes and sighing deeply. Could this man really be left to roam this city freely?

“Surely never happened to me, don’t have the face for that”, Daegin mumbled and grabbed his shot. “Well, love, flirted is a strong word. As far as I’m concerned, it was only about getting something to drink – at least for me – and it wasn’t even that goo…” You boxed him into his shoulder with full force when you realized he was mimicking your earlier words about Eodin. This fucking dickhead! But Astarion simply threw his head back in laughter. You punched him again, but he kept laughing and grabbed your face with both hands and kissed you, immediately erasing the anger you felt. Then he broke the kiss and looked at you with an intensity in his eyes, that made you breathless, his eyes jumping back and forth between yours. “I love you”, he whispered to you. “Hear, hear”, Daegin dramatically proclaimed to that and made to throw back his drink. “Ah ah ah”, Astarion interrupted him “I appreciate that, but I thought we wanted to toast to something else?” “Yes, yes, you’re right.” Daegin lifted his glass: “Let’s drink to snakes and assholes we got rid off!” Then he looked to Lira to add to the toast. “And to old friends that reappeared and new ones that were made!”, she added cheerfully and lifted her drink to Daegin’s. “To leaving the way of thieves behind and finding new paths in life”, you happily joined in and looked to Astarion to finish the toast. “And to the wonderful people we’ll walk them with”, he said smiling at you in a way that made you forget you weren’t alone in the room. You went to down the drink but saw the glint in Astarion’s eyes. “And to charming the pants off people to get whatever we desire”, Astarion added smugly and threw his drink back. Lira and Daegin both choked, but you simply drank, pressed your forehead against Astarion’s and broke into joyful laughter. The vampire just kept looking at you, his heart full to the rim with love for you.

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #a night of song and laughter #i love astarion being sassy #also being so caring #also pissing off tav #poro fics

[nerosdayinanime]

feral giyuu beloved

hes gonna fucking kill Shinazugawa

so Sanemi pulls his stab-the-baby bullshit which terrifies Tanjiro, thinking he'd try to open the box next to burn her in the sun. as soon as Giyuu registers his distress all the tension he'd be holding in snaps violently- he lurches forward out of the lineup and lunges at Sanemi with the ferocity of an actual demon. Sabito and everyone else are stunned in place as Giyuu punches him hard enough to send him to the gravel, snatches Nezuko's box from him and leaps back pulling Tanjiro behind him. He stands there posed protectively in front of them, every muscle tensed ready to move as he stares Sanemi down snarling as loud as thunder. Obanai Mitsuri and Tengen are cringing back- Obanai because hes closest aside from Sanemi and can smell the intense sea-salt & pine through his mask, Mitsuri because shes an Omega Prime and the warning growl/threat scent affects her more, and Tengen because the sharp ring of loathing in the growl hurts his head. Sabito's still in the lineup baring his fangs, struggling to keep calm and not make the situation any worse for his partner despite the anxiety of the situation.

"Don't fucking touch them." "I didn't even touch your stupid brat!" "YOU STABBED HER!"

Everyone startles at the implication of that- Sanemi growls and starts berating him for imprinting on a demon, stomping closer, calling him a traitor for attacking him. Giyuu leans forward ready to rip out his throat at a moments notice, not lunging solely because Tanjiro's holding onto the back of his haori pleading for them not to fight. Sabito finally snarls and stands up- Kyojuro Mitsuri & Tengen follow, fully expecting to have to intervene when the three of them start tearing each other to shreds, "SIT!. ALL OF YOU!." He snaps, harshly grabbing Sanemi by the shoulder and shoving him down. Sanemi starts to protest but Sabito leans over him threateningly and grabs his throat, "You stay fucking put. You're already 5 feet down and i suggest you stop digging any further." Sanemi stares back at him, gripping the arm holding his neck, but doesn't do or say anything else, the others hesitantly settle back down. He lets go and straightens up, looking back at the other hashira, "We're going to sit here and wait for Oyakata-sama like civilized people," a pointed look at Sanemi, "Are we agreed upon?." When everyone murmurs in agreement he nods to Giyuu and kneels next to Sanemi, barricading him and the other hashira from Giyuu Tanjiro and Nezuko.

Giyuu finally stops growling and posturing, hesitating for a moment before turning and fretting over the two of them for a bit- they finally sit down when he calms. When Kagaya arrives hes immediately hit with the tension and thick fear-anger-stress scent filling the courtyard and asks what happened. Sanemi opens his mouth- Sabito slaps a hand under his chin and closes it again. Shinobu and Kyojuro pipe up, explaining that they were questioning the boy when Shinazugawa went ahead and stabbed the demon in the box, how Urokodaki stepped up and ...convinced everyone to sit back down. He finally brings out Sakonji's letter and asks everyone else to allow it like he did. Sanemi of course objects and asks to prove the demon's real nature. Giyuu immediately snaps at him to shut the fuck up- he's already done enough stabbing his fucking cub. Kagaya recognizes the gravity of the situation and offers Giyuu to come inside so he can check on her (and maybe possibly also show everyone else shes not so bad-). Giyuu quickly takes up the offer and pulls Tanjiro over with him in the far corner- Sabito follows them to the edge of the engawa and stands guard there between them and the other hashira.

Giyuu sits down in front of her box and gently opens it, little Nezuko crawling out and looking around for a moment. She sees the blood on Tanjiro's face and tries to wipe it off with her sleeve, Giyuu makes pointed eye contact with Sanemi and carefully cleans Tanjiro's face off. Nezuko patiently sits in his lap until he pats her head and inspects the damage to her clothes. The other hashira are talking, arguing maybe- he doesn't care enough to tell. "Shinazugawa, you owe me 5 yen." "The fuck do i owe you for jackass!?" "Thread, for the fucking HOLE you put through her-" "Ah!- Giyuu-san its fine!-"

Eventually its decided they'll let her live for now, "I also offer to take them in to the Butterfly Mansion, if that's okay with Tomioka-san." Giyuu notices the peace-offering look she gives him when she says that. "...I'll allow it.." Tanjiro herds Nezuko back into her box and Giyuu growls at the kakushi who try to pick up Nezuko's box. He puts the box on himself, Tanjiro tries to assure them he can walk on his own and immediately buckles when he puts pressure on his injured leg. Giyuu picks him up and carries the both of them out and to the butterfly mansion while Sabito stays for the rest of the meeting

#loserboy giyuu posting #neros art tag #abo sabigiyu surprise adoption au #giyuu dipped as soon as he could he did NOT want to stay around that mess any longer than he had to lmao #hes never been so junked up on adrenaline before- he dropped the two of them off in Aoi's care and went to run off the rest of it with a #few laps between the estate and the nearby village. grabbed some more thread while he was there #oh yeah i didnt talk about the mt natagumo scene w rui & shinobu #he was super panicky about possibly losing them to a lower moon so soon- he got there in time though and had that whole convo w tanjiro #abt not hesitating to slay demons- he was swayed by tanjiro and grabbed rui's clothes after he ran from shinobu. had em stuffed in his #sleeve the whole time- probably asked the btfy trio to wash it for him and gave it to tanjiro #tanjiro told him about the little family lower 5 was trying to make with the other demons- how he must've been trying to replace the family #he lost and going about it the wrong way given how happy the spider mother was to die. he smelled so profoundly *sad* when he was dying #giyuu gets why hes so sympathetic to demons like that. he doesnt really feel the same but he understands. hes just happy tanjiro found a #balance between his kind nature and his job as a slayer- he doesnt have to sacrifice his kindness and he doesnt have to sacrifice his *life #sabito eventually arrives w shinobu & fills giyuu in on the meeting stuff- they also talk about that little bit about 'his cub' #'what about it? they're ours now.' 'giyuu you cant just adopt-' 'i dont wanna hear that from you *urokodaki*' 'touche. they're ours now' #giyuu #tomioka giyuu #giyuu tomioka #sabito #kny sabito #sabito lives au #sabigiyuu #kamado tanjiro #kamado nezuko #originally it was supposed to just be a redraw but my obsession w sharp teeth won out #giyuu beloved #next im gonna try to draw somethin w giyuu original design #that fuckboy w the slutty gloves

[misunhye]

SM ENTERTAINMENT REVEALS NCT WILL BE A CO-ED GROUP

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ҉ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ ୭̥⋆*｡ published august 21, 2016 ╱ written by sunsing

On August 21, SM Entertainment revealed that their new NCT unit would be co-ed with seven boys and one girl. SMROOKIE, Kang Sunhye, is now Misun of NCT Dream!

Misun was originally set to debut in Red Velvet but was pulled out of the lineup due to her young age, and it seems like SM has found a new place for her!

Misun’s the last member to be revealed, and now all we have left is the MV! Are you excited for NCT Dream?

… VIEW COMMENTS

[ +3928, -91 ] Just like her mother, huh? ㅋㅋㅋ

[ +1822, -47 ] This is just SM asking for trouble, she’ll most likely ruin the group. It’s just not possible for her to keep up with a bunch of boys. Not to mention she’ll probably end up liking one of them ... or all seven at the same time.

[ +1086, -738 ] Why is everyone so against this? I’m sure if she couldn’t handle being in a group of boys or keep up, SM wouldn’t put her in NCT. They know what they’re doing.

[ +928, -21 ] Isn’t she Kang Sumin’s bastard child? ㅋ

[ +342, -192 ] I remember watching her on Mickey Mouse Club. She’s cute. Fighting, Misun!

[ +299, -132 ] Aw, she’ll be leaving the girls!! ㅠㅠ I love their friendship. Hopefully the girls debut in NCT in the near future, too.

[ +145, -264 ] Anyone think about the fact that she’s literally 16 years old? Leave the poor girl alone.

#⁽ ⠀ ҉ ⠀ ⁾ ⠀ ⠀ misun ⠀ / ⠀ * ⠀ articles. #fictional idol community #nct dream 8th member #ficnetfairy #idol oc #nct 27th member #nct female addition #nct female member #nct female unit #nct imagines #fictional idol oc #kpop female idol oc #fake idol oc #kpop idol oc #fake kpop idol #fake idol group #fictional idol group #nct oc #nct dream #nct 127 #wayv #kpop female oc #kpop female member #kpop addition #kpop oc #fake kpop oc #idolverse #nct female oc #kpop oc group #nct

[carters-things]

Saturday Sunrise

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x GN!Reader

Summary: You accompany Bradley to the beach for weekly dog-fight football.

Tags: Just a self indulgent fluffy fic! No gendered pronouns or bodily descriptions used for reader, minimal pet names "Honey" and "My love" each used only once.

Masterlist

*Not Rooster in the gif I know, lets not talk about it...*

Every weekend Bradley and the rest of his crew mates meet at the beach to play dog-fight football at sunrise. Somehow, they were able to convince Admiral Simpson to accept it as one of their required FTX. In all honesty, he was probably just happy to have the break and get that wild bunch off base and out of earshot. Watching all of them break away from the stress of work for a short time was a sight so very rare, there is no way you would miss it. So every Saturday morning you got up with Bradley to accompany him down to the waterfront. 

You have grown close with the rest of the squad, which there really wasn’t any other option with how much time you spent with them all. They have even given you your own honorary call sign, “Bounty”. You never once felt out of place with them, or like an outsider being “just a civilian”. Luckily since you were dating Bradley, you didn’t have to look for an excuse to spend more time with everyone.  

“There they are!” Phoenix called out to you and Rooster as you both stepped into the sand. Hand in hand you made your way down to the empty chair that waited for you every week. Facing the ocean, and front row to the show.

“It’s about time! Someone hit the snooze button today?” Hondo teased. Bradley already had his shoes kicked off and was hastily pulling his shirt over the back of his head. He threw it down in the sand, kissed your cheek, and took off running towards the group. Your eyes took in the wonderful sight of your shirtless boyfriend. His back toned and defined, the sun glimmering off the slightest bit of sweat already forming on him. You laughed and shook your head at the act of Bradley tackling Coyote to the ground upon reaching him. 

There were a few exchanged smiles and high-fives as everyone split into teams. You pulled out a book, but in reality knew you would end up watching the game more than reading the book. The first whistle blew and all members took off running and shoving each other, even Bob getting in the middle of it.

As the first few rounds went by of dog-fight, Bradley's team won every round. Continuous, exasperated groans came from Phoenix and the rest of her team, as their sportsmanship began to get lost as the games dragged on. 

“Bounty!” She called out, snapping you from your boyfriend ogling, daze. “We need backup! Come join!” 

Bradley flashed Phoenix a look, one you couldn’t quite decipher, but you know it wasn’t one of approval. The chance to challenge that look however, piqued your interest. You tossed aside the book you had never even opened, and jogged up to the crew. You bumped fists with a couple of the guys, and phoenix flung her arm around your shoulder. Bradley’s hands had found his lower hips, as he shook his head, the slightest joking scoff coming from his chest. 

“You’re a traitor, you know that?” He joked. You laughed at him as both teams took the lineup, Bradley standing face to face with you. “You’re really gonna make me do this? I can’t rough up my love.”

“I can handle it.” You smirked at him, crossing your arms in front of you. He shook his head at your weak attempt at intimidating him.  “Come on, Rooster… Don't tell me you're actually a chicken?”

A collective “ohhhhhhh” roared from the rest of the crew, even a whistle came from Hondo. A smirk spread across Rooster’s face as he bent down, hands mixing with the sand. He dropped his chin just enough to flash his big brown eyes at you over the rim of his aviators. You bent down matching his pose and winked, a smug grin forming on your lips. 

“Alright then…” Bradley pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose into place, and dug his foot into position in the sand. “Bring it, Bounty.” 

Hondo blew the whistle and both balls snapped. Yells of directions and names were thrown all around you as you lunged after Bradley. He easily maneuvered out of your way, your own momentum almost throwing you to the ground. You stumbled around and caught your balance as Hondo blew the whistle again. Another point for the opposing team. You all realigned, this time choosing your place in the back line. Every round getting blocked by Bradley, and losing another point.

You were determined to beat him and his cocky attitude. This time when the whistle blew and the balls snapped yet again, you took off around the left, and ducked behind Hangman. Payback was too busy trying to take him down he didn’t notice you slip by. Just as you were crossing into the endzone to open up for the pass, Bradley came running up behind you. Subtly he scooped up a small handful of sand in one palm, and his free arm snaked around your waist. He pinned your back to his chest, inciting a startled yelp from you, and smeared the sand all over your cheek. You bent over to escape his grip, but before you could get away both of his arms met around your waist and spun you into the air. “Nice try, Honey!” He teased, before finally putting your wiggling and giggling body down. He kept his hand wrapped around you, and kissed the side of your neck that wasn’t covered in sand, with a few quick gentle kisses.

“Hey! That’s definitely cheating!” Phoenix called out. 

“It’s dog-fight! Anything goes!” Rooster yelled back, throwing his arms in the air. You dropped your head and laughed, trying your best to wash the sand off your sweaty face. As you made your way back to your team, you couldn’t help but stop and take in the amazing view of the ocean. The sun was starting to peak over the clouds, the sky filling with a bright pink hue that reflected off the peaks of the waves. 

“Bounty! You coming or what?” Hangman shouted, your attention turning back to the huddle. 

“Geez! Someone is in a rush to lose again!” You chirped back at him as you jogged into the lineup. This crew has given you more than just friends, but a family, and Saturday sunrise will always be your favorite part of the week.

Flight Crew!

@someplace-darker

@nelleicrain

@murrdxcks

@sobachka-korol

#bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x you #rooster x reader #rooster x gn!reader #bradley bradshaw x gn!reader #rooster top gun #top gun: maverick #top gun 2 #top gun maverick #top gun #rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fluff #rooster fluff #carteranne #bounty bradshaw

[walker-extended-universe]

4x02 Review

I have to admit, I wasn't sure there would be room in the lineup for a lighter episode given the limited episode count, but "Maybe it's Mabelline" was just what we needed after that busy premiere.

The main plot of the episode is focused on protecting a key witness in a money laundering case: Maybelline Pratt. Despite her insistence that she doesn't need protecting and she's perfectly fine to testify, the FBI isn't taking any chances and they plan to put her into WITSEC. However, she refuses to leave with the men they send and since they can't leave her unattended, Cordell suggests one of our merry band of rangers take her home. Unfortunately, Cassie doesn't have a place of her own and Trey's apartment isn't secure enough to hold a witness. The safest place would be the Walker family ranch and, as much as Cordell is already annoyed with her, he has no choice but to agree.

Side note: Did Jared get tired of his character getting hit on all the time? I got that feeling watching everything between Cordell and Maybelline and Trey XD

As prickly as Maybelline is with Cordell initially, she softens after learning he lost his wife and become a single parent. This leads to some interesting conversation between them when he finds her sitting up at the dining table later at night. When Cordell opens up about his concerns with his children rushing out of the nest, she offers some unexpected comfort. The fact that they feel comfortable enough to leave means that he did a good job raising them, and they'll likely come back one day.

The next day, Cordell and Cassie and Trey bring her to court to testify, but things get hairy when there's a commotion at the security checkpoint. The rangers handle it, leaving her with a security guard who starts to take her away while they're distracted. It's clear that this was an attempt by the criminal on trail to silence her witness testimony and, while Maybelline can't escape on her own, she purposefully leaves her bag as a clue to where her captor took her. One parking garage chase scene later, Cordell and Cassie have the captors backed up against the elevator, where Trey shows up to save the day. Another successful day for our ranger troop, in more ways than one.

Fussy Maybelliene

Side note- did jared get tired of his character being flirted with constantly?

Meaningful conversations and realizations

Aside from the main plot of the episode, a lot of the episode continued focus on Stella handling her guilt and trauma from the break-in in the season 3 finale. In this episode, we're shown her guilt over what happened to Witt. Yes, Witt tried to harm her and Sadie and possibly Geri, but he still died and she feels at fault for that. He was young, just like her, and a had a whole future ahead of him- one that he can never live out now. Liam's attempts to assure her that she doesn't need to feel guilty because Witt was a bad person don't soothe her because she can't help but see Witt for all of who he was outside of the break-in. This results in a fight when Liam tries to push Stella further into equine therapy, something she just isn't interested in.

Later, we see her visiting a roadside memorial for Witt with a rose and a rugby ball, something she found out he was interested in. While she's there, she meets a man who introduces himself as Witt's uncle, which doesn't help her guilt in the least. She leaves quickly after she meets him, which gives our new man a chance to call and report their meeting to someone else.

Much later, at the Side Step, we see Stella trying and failing to get in contact with Sadie, demanding that they talk. Ben overhears and knows better than to push for details. Instead, he gives her space to air out her feelings. Unlike Liam, Ben validates her feelings of guilt and compares it to his own guilt over what happened to Lucas. He assures her that it's completely normal to feel that way and it just means she's a good person with a conscience. This gives her the comfort to reconnect with Liam over darts later.

Side note: I said this last time but I just love how much more a part of the family Ben has become. I just wish it didn't all happen off screen.

But, that comfort is soon dashed when she returns to her dorm that night and finds a threatening message on the window, written in dripping red paint.

A smaller plot that was no less significant was August wanting to join boot camp. He starts off by asking Bonham to go over Cordell's head and convince Trey to let him join without a parent signature. This is an interesting scene for me as it shows us that while Bonham is more outwardly supportive of August's military aspirations, he does have reservations about it. When August says that Bonham was the one that told him he needed to learn discipline, Bonham says that he can see August already has. Not that it changes his grandson's mind, but I think this was a great talk between them.

Side note: I did not expect Trey to be the drill sergeant for this program and I'm very much looking forward to August assuming he'll get a leg up because of that.

When Bonham tries to broach the subject with Cordell, he immediately shuts it down. Cordell is putting his foot down strongly against any parental interference this season and I have to appreciate that. It's clear that, at this point, Cordell is trying to put of August growing up as long as he can. It's not until an insightful conversation with Maybelline Pratt later in the episode that he starts to see things differently and signs the form.

In probably one of my favorite scenes of the episode, Cordell and August finally have a talk about it. Here, Cordell explains that while he doesn't necessarily regret his own tour in the military, he doesn't want August to rush into it. He's still young and he has a lot of options available, ones that Cordell didn't necessarily have when he came home from Afghanistan and suddenly had to become a father and provider. But, if this is really what August wants, he'll be supportive, no matter how much he'll worry over it.

Side note: The combination of that pilot flashback and Cordell calling August his "baby boy" did something to my heart and I'm not over it.

A small plot that I really enjoyed this episode was Cassie and Geri's friendship. I've long hoped for more female bonding on this show and these two becoming friends was a great idea.

We find out that Cassie has decided to stay in Austin with the rangers after figuring out that part of what made the FBI feel so great to her was that it was a temporary gig. Between that and James promising her a bright future here, she made a call to Tessa and started looking for new apartments. Geri is extremely supportive of that. So supportive, in fact, that she offers Cassie a chance to move into the bungalow later in the episode- which Cassie graciously accepts. I look forward to seeing how these two live together. And how Cordell handles this turn of events.

There is a part of me that wishes Cassie had spent more time balancing her options between the rangers and the FBI but I understand there were time constraints.

A small moment that I appreciated in this episode was Bonham and Abby talking in the barn after his attempts to talk to Cordell about August's boot camp dreams. Their couple banter was on point as usual, but I liked that Bonham brought up the concept of their future again. They haven't had a conversation about retirement since season 2 and I think it shows how comfortable they feel that Bonham was the one to bring it up again.

Side note: I love that Abby and Ben have gone into business doing weddings at the ranch. It just makes me happy how Ben has become a part of the family.

As with any good episode of Walker, I'm left with good feels on the episode and so many questions for next week! Where is Sadie? Where is Dettective Luna? How is August going to handle boot camp training? Is Stella going to be forced to tell the truth? Are Geri and Cordell officially moving in anytime soon? Will Maybelline return for Ranger Barnett?

See y'all next week!

#walker #walker spoilers #walker review #s04e02 #maybe it's maybelline #such a good episode #so many good dynamics #some i didn't even know i needed #can't wait for next week!