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#im sick of this show but my partner is enjoying it
theotherpacman · 2 months
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one of the things that pisses me off the most about the atla reboot is
that they're COMPLETELY missing the point of zuko. zuko HAS to be the villain at first, has to be framed as merciless and cruel and evil and the epitome of the fire nation's greedy conquest of the world, so that it's SIGNIFICANT when you learn he's just a kid who wants to go home. just a kid who wants his dad to love him and has convinced himself that if he's good enough, he can earn that love. the point of zuko is to show the audience that the people we see as our enemies are human too. also, the point of zuko is that sometimes our anger and desperation get in our way and make us forget what's really important to us.
the netflix live action reboot is completely fucking this up. they're bringing in zuko's backstory WAY too early, throwing lines around about how his father banished him and he just wants to go home and see his family again. we're not supposed to know that about zuko yet. we're not supposed to know that his dad doesn't want him back or that his sister disdains him. moreover, ZUKO isn't supposed to acknowledge yet that what he wants most is his family's love - s1 zuko suppresses that shit hard. s1 zuko is all about restoring his honor, earning glory, winning his claim to the throne back. the reboot isn't giving him enough room to grow and change, and isn't giving the audience any room to change their view of him.
but that's just one of the things I hate about the reboot, there are many
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sugrhigh · 2 months
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FAMILY TIES - ( m.s & c.s )
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REQUESTED**
summary- you, matt, and chris go to a bruins game with the kids
warnings- none i don’t think!
girl dad!matt and boy dad!chris
a/n: i tried so hard to write this well and im still not sure if im satisfied, but i hope u enjoy!! kinda short but i think after this weeks podcast we all need a bit of fluff lol
@cutenote @rootbeerworshiper @bb-1s-blog @rileysturniolo @mbbsgf @sturnlova @angelworldspost @l9vesick @st7rnioiossblog
“it’s ridiculous that you always wear my clothes better than i do.” matt speaks, interrupting you as you stare at yourself in the full-length mirror.
you’re in one of his many bruins sweatshirts, which is a little too big for you so you have one side tucked into the pocket of your jeans.
you pad over to give him a quick kiss, hand pressed to his chest. “you still look very handsome.”
“thank you, babe.” he gives you a tiny pat on the ass, which still to this day makes your cheeks ignite.
your daughter, eve, comes flying around the corner into your bedroom moments later, almost running right into her dad. she’s all dressed up for the occasion too, clad in her mini bruins jersey.
“woah, slow it down there partner.” he scoops her up into his arms easily, and her eruption of laughter makes you smile.
“can we go now?” eve says through giggles.
“you don’t want to wait for uncle chris and parker?” you ask knowingly, and she sighs, leaning her small head against matt’s chin.
“i guess.”
as if on que, there’s a loud pounding on the front door, and you hear it open. eve’s face lights up, and she claps her hands together in excitement.
“they’re here, they’re here!”
“we’re here evie!” chris calls back, and the smile is clear in his voice.
matt sets your daughter down so she can run for the stairs, the both of you following closely behind her.
parker is hiding behind chris’s legs, one hand grabbing onto his dad’s black cargos for safety. the second eve comes rushing toward him, though, he opens right up as always.
they hold each other tightly for a second as you finally reach the bottom of the grand staircase, which gives you time to pull chris into a quick embrace too.
“good to see you, as always.” you grin, and he matches your expression.
“i can never turn down some family time.”
matt chuckles a little, clapping his brother on the back as they hug next. “you just want an excuse for me to drive so you can get a drink.”
“well, i can’t turn that down either.” chris jokes back.
“alright, who’s ready for some hockey?” you ask, mainly to eve and parker, who both bounce around with each other happily.
“me!”
“me too!”
you herd everyone into the car and get the kids situated in their respective booster seats beside chris. there’s always an extra in your vehicle, just in case parker is around, which is often.
you love the little guy. he really is like a mini version of his dad, and chris’s wife is gorgeous too, which also shows in his face. you were so upset when you found out she was sick, but she insisted you guys needed to go enjoy without her, so here you are.
most of the drive to the garden is spent singing along to the radio and keeping eve and parker in check. as cute as they are together as cousins, they’re also trouble. to be fair, they’re only three, so it’s in their nature.
you used to think that eve got her rebel streak from her father, but matt insisted it’s a trait that came from you. as the time went on, you realized that she’s definitely inherited it from your side of the family.
thinking about it makes you grin a little bit to yourself. she’s definitely equal parts of you and matt.
eve’s voice interrupts your thoughts, almost like she knew what was going on in your brain.
“are we there mommy?”
“almost, i promise.”
“pinky?” parker chimes in next.
“oh, of course.” you fully lean across the center console so you can extend your pinky finger to him.
he loops his own little hand with yours and shakes it, and you do the same with eve.
it seems like only seconds later you’re pulling into the arena’s parking deck, and the kids start kicking in their seats eagerly.
chris unbuckles them and helps them out into the chilly air as you round the corner of the car. thankfully they’re both all bundled up in their outfits, even complete with their little matching bruins beanies that matt had picked out months ago.
the whole walk toward the entrance, chris and matt take turns swinging parker and eve between themselves, and you’re all still laughing as you approach security.
matt scans the tickets and suddenly you’re meshing with the crowd, keeping the kids close as you head for concessions first.
the rink is all lit up as you finally make your way to your seats minutes later, equipped with two beers, two sodas, and two tubs of popcorn.
the kids munch happily from their seats as they watch warm-ups, just a couple rows back from the glass. you can’t help but beam, sneakily taking pictures of the two of them together because it just warms your heart.
“looking at the two of them kind of makes me want more, you know.” matt leans over from the seat on the other side of you, breath tickling your ear.
you nudge him playfully, though it makes your pulse skyrocket as you turn to look at him.
“just say the word.”
it’s his turn to go slack-jawed, and he has to clear his throat to force himself to stop thinking about the possibility of more children with you, the woman he fucking adores.
you’d never really talked about it after eve, since you were both so hyper-focused on her as new parents. plus, she’s always had her cousin every step of the way.
but maybe she’d like having a little brother or sister of her own.
“maybe they can stay at chris’s place tonight?” matt thinks out loud.
“let him drink that beer a little longer and i’m sure you can convince him.” you grin as you take a sip of your own.
a few minutes later the arena gets dark as the announcer hypes up the crowd, and you’re (mostly) all on your feet cheering once the bruins skate onto the ice.
parker is piggy-backing on chris’s shoulders, arms flung around his neck as his dad supports him. you’ve got eve on your hip so she can get a good view as well, watching the players while the spotlights focus in on the rink.
her eyes are as wide as saucers, like she’s totally entranced by the noise and the movement.
“daddy, look!” eve points at them excitedly, leaning in your arms so she can glance over at matt.
“i know baby! isn’t it cool?” he feeds into her enthusiasm with a wide grin.
your heart soars as you transfer her into matt’s arms, watching as he ruffles her beanie a little bit so she shrieks with laughter. it’s precious, watching him treat her like the little princess she is.
the national anthem plays shortly after, and the game officially begins. you watch as he points out players to eve, telling her different fun facts about each of them.
chris is bopping parker around on his back to the beat of the music, and he smiles along with his dad.
for a moment, you’re completely consumed by your own thoughts, so thankful for this little found family of yours. you turn your head to look at matt, and he meets your eyes immediately.
“i love you.” you mouth, unable to contain your smile.
“i love you more.” he mouths back.
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tteokdoroki · 1 year
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aali i'm sick— after reading your post about vacation in italy with Yoichi i just can't stop thinking about how would it be new husband!isagi!! Like you've only been married for 3-4 months and he's so sad and frustrated he has to stay away from you! imagine he broke into bachira’s room not knowing that megs is in live on instagram, and just starts wailing with his face buried in the pillow while stamping his feet on the bed like a child. He's like, “I don't get how some guys are so desperate to get rid of their wives. Because I've been away from my wife for two weeks now and I think I've gone through all the stages of grief like 3 times”, and megs is all👀👀 just reading all the comments scrolling quickly on the screen—
im gonna throw up on myself i need him so bad?? isagi is just that guy who’s absolutely whipped for his partner — if it’s not soccer his entire world is revolving around you so when you’re separated it’s like everything is falling apart. especially with you both being newly married because he just wants to enjoy the domestic life with you, get used to setting up the rest of his life with you.!
i can imagine isagi being the whiniest husband too, slumping all over bachira other teammates as soon as they’re done with matches or practice just to complain about how much he wants you. he’s always like “miss my baby.” “sick of being around you fucking losers, i miss my wife.” “when can i go home, my baby’s waitin’ on me.”
he gets INSUFFERABLE without you, the team gets fed up of isagi quickly (they’re all losers and feel like he’s showing off his precious baby) — so when bachira live streams the whole thing it gets back to you quickly.
then there’s clips all over the internet of isagi gushing over you, whining for you and tweets surfacing from people wishing they had isagi as their partner. a particular moment of you calling your husband in the middle of the stream to calm him down goes viral cause it’s just him kicking his feet on the hotel bed, squirming to answer n just see your face.
like imagine isagi acting like a little school girl with a crush when he sees your contact saying something like “oh my god shut up she’s calling, my wife is calling!” he’s so cute :(
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wambsgansshoelaces · 3 months
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could you maybe do headcanons on how the succession characters would comfort their partner? it's just being such a shit week and on top of that i finished succession and i am immensely sad💀 it's okay if you can't tho !! thanks <3
I hope your week ends on a good note!!! Thank you for requesting anon, I love u and I hope this makes you feel better :) <3
p.s. I’m so sorry I’m updating slowly :( I promise I’ll get better about it the moment I’m on break, im sick and school is ruing my life :,) enjoy x
comforting you
Kendall
ᝰ he doesn’t need you to say anything, ever
ᝰ he just knows what you need
ᝰ when he comes home and finds you in bed early, he knows you’ve had a difficult day
ᝰ he doesn’t know what happened, but he won’t ask until you’re feeling better
ᝰ he changes out of his work clothes and just gets into bed with you
ᝰ when you don’t say anything either, he pulls you into a cuddle, one hand pressing your head to his chest and the other cupping your hip
ᝰ “hi, ken.”
ᝰ peppers your face in kisses
ᝰ “feeling off?” he asks
ᝰ you nod
ᝰ his fingers go to stroke your jaw
ᝰ “you can talk to me, you know. i want to make it better,” he tells you
ᝰ so you tell him everything
ᝰ whatever the issue was, the next day, he’s found some way to solve it
ᝰ just for you
ᝰ anything for you
Roman
ᝰ he’s not exactly a ‘sit down and talk about feelings’ type of person
ᝰ but he can tell when something’s wrong
ᝰ and he wants nothing more but to make you feel like you’re on top of the world
ᝰ he sees your pouty face when you get home from a grocery run
ᝰ “hey, babe, come look,” he says after he helps with all the bags
ᝰ he’d been at work when you’d left for the store
ᝰ so he’s had some time to figure out what to do for you without making it seem like he’s prying
ᝰ he’ll ask you about what’s bothering you once you’ve relaxed
ᝰ he plops down on the couch, dragging you with him
ᝰ your favorite movie is paused on the tv, waiting to be played
ᝰ “i found an extended version. with bloopers and deleted scenes and everything,” he murmurs
ᝰ the entire movie, his hand is rubbing up and down your back
ᝰ his fingers sometimes creep up your neck, playing gently with your hair
ᝰ the entire thing is extremely soothing
ᝰ you know he knows something’s wrong
ᝰ and you also know he’s going to do everything in his power to fix it
ᝰ and you’re so grateful he just loves you
Shiv
ᝰ the minute you come home from work, exhaustion and misery rolling off of you in waves, she demands to know what’s wrong
ᝰ “is someone bothering you? is it your boss again? because i can get him fired.”
ᝰ you tell her everything
ᝰ she promises to help you with whatever it is that’s causing you trouble
ᝰ she’d tip the earth off it’s axis if you asked
ᝰ and she does as she said she would
ᝰ everything’s somehow resolved in the next hour
ᝰ “come here, i want a kiss,” she tells you
ᝰ you very happily oblige
ᝰ she spends the entire night just spoiling (and worshiping) you
ᝰ the sheets of your bed are tangled between both your legs
ᝰ you’ve never felt more loved
ᝰ she murmurs about how valentine’s day is coming up
ᝰ and tells you to get your nails done and dress pretty day of
ᝰ you don’t really know how you got here
ᝰ but you’re not upset
ᝰ you smile up at the ceiling, delightedly dazed
ᝰ you don’t even remember why you were upset
Tom
ᝰ the two of you are watching your current show, as you do every night, and he notices you’re zoning out
ᝰ he pauses it and looks down at you
ᝰ he dots a couple kisses over your brow
ᝰ “everything okay?”
ᝰ “rough day…”
ᝰ “why didn’t you tell me?”
ᝰ his expression is one of concern now, yet still absolutely laden with affection
ᝰ “i’m sorry, i’m not trying to keeping things from you or anything. i just don’t want to bother you.”
ᝰ “i want you to bother me. say everything that comes into your brain, i want to hear it.”
ᝰ he pulls you closer, palm smoothing over the back of your neck as he sets your head against his chest
ᝰ you tell him about your day, and how you were getting so frustrated
ᝰ frustrated everything was going wrong today, frustrated that the entire week was going wrong
ᝰ he listens intently, stroking your hair the entire time
ᝰ he gives soft “mhms” and “of courses” at your words
ᝰ he peppers warm kisses all over your face
ᝰ he does his best to give you a solution
ᝰ even if what he suggested doesn’t work, he’s sending you flowers to your office for the next week
Greg
ᝰ he’s a little confused, but he’s got the spirit
ᝰ he’s a little nervous to ask what’s wrong
ᝰ he’s afraid he won’t know what to do to make you feel better
ᝰ “hey, uh, everything okay?”
ᝰ you shrug
ᝰ “wanna talk about it?”
ᝰ you tell him everything
ᝰ he nods the entire time, his eyes never leaving your face
ᝰ he’s trying to memorize everything you’re saying
ᝰ he doesn’t really have any great solutions
ᝰ and he kind of hates himself for it
ᝰ he wants to help you
ᝰ “hey, how about we go out tonight? take your mind off things.”
ᝰ you spend the night at dinner then wandering through a night market
ᝰ you both talk nonstop
ᝰ he gets you a bunch of trinkets
ᝰ just things that reminds him of you
ᝰ and a bracelet, too
ᝰ`he spends a bit of time fiddling with the clasp, eventually hooking it together and letting it sit on your wrist
ᝰ you don’t take the bracelet off
ᝰ ever
ᝰ at home, he’s worried you’re still upset
ᝰ but you’re not
ᝰ you fall asleep curled up against him, your worries now nonexistent
Stewy
ᝰ he feels what you feel
ᝰ and at this point he can never leave you alone
ᝰ he NEEDS to be with you 24/7
ᝰ so naturally it’s like he’s dying when you come home looking upset
ᝰ “hey, no kiss hello?” he whines
ᝰ that manages to get you to laugh
ᝰ he smiles at your smiling
ᝰ you go over to kiss him and he catches your wrist before you walk off
ᝰ “no, c’mere,” he insists
ᝰ he tugs you into his lap and winds his arms around your waist
ᝰ he sets his chin on your shoulder
ᝰ “why’re you upset?”
ᝰ “oh, it’s nothing, stewy.”
ᝰ “bullshit.”
ᝰ you spill
ᝰ he rubs circles into your hip bone
ᝰ “i’d be upset, too,” he admits
ᝰ he kisses all up your neck
ᝰ “but we don’t have to think about that all now. can we just spend some time together? i promise, though, if you’re still having problems i’ll gladly fuck up many lives for you.”
ᝰ you laugh, making him laugh
ᝰ you spend the rest of the night just sitting there talking to him
ᝰ he even lets you put his hair into pigtails with your hair ties
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postmodernbeliever · 1 month
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how to relax - fox mulder x female reader (smut)
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a seemingly endless case in the middle of nowhere has you stressed out of your mind, to the point where the only thing that doesn't push you too far is fox mulder. with all that stress and no way to reel yourself in, your partner decides he wants to help show you how to relax.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
wrote this bc sometimes we (i) just need a (toe curling) self-insert to satisfy our (my) daydreams. i dedicate this to all those who are chubby and in love with fox mulder. if you prefer to read on ao3, you can find me at the same username.
my ao3 | word count; 5,419 (i got excited, okay?)
content tags (i copied from ao3 bc im lazy): dom fox mulder, praise kink, fluff and smut, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, hand & finger kink, subspace, size difference, belly bulge, co-workers, mutual pining, idiots in love, pet names, stress relief, cross-posted on ao3, smut, subtle plus size reader, soft fox mulder, mentions of freudian shit bc come on this is the x files, talking you through it, fox is literally so awoooooga the whole time, fox gets cocky as always, fox mulder the munch, bathroom sex, fox just can’t help himself literally so i hope you enjoy
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°
you’d been beyond stressed all day, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary for you. what was frustrating was that you had managed to grow so agitated that it seemed nothing could help you calm down. 
your work with the fbi was your life, in all its stress-inducing, time-consuming, hair-splitting glory. you were as tight-assed as they came (ask literally anybody!) all of that pressure on top of a naturally anxious and irritable demeanor made you difficult to enjoy being around, and you knew it. but today, of all days, it was truly catching up to you physically. the muscles of your jaw were sore from the tension they held, fighting between your teeth for release. your head swelled between your eyes and nose, pulsing softly like a glowing light that wouldn’t dim. your throat was dry, your footsteps heavy, your hands restless; you were wound so tight that everyone you encountered feared you might snap like a rubber band, lashing against them in recoil. 
fox mulder was the only one who had stayed on your good side all day, which is surprising, given your partner was typically the casual aggressor of your everyday life- what with his constant nagging and ridiculous speculations about every crime you investigated. he never once changed his attitude, let alone change the color shirt he wore to work every day. yet it seemed this time he was off the hook, because the case you’d both been assigned was dragging like no other. 
it was your fifth day in the desolate yellow countryside of a rural town you so lovingly renamed as bumblefuck, virginia; all you possessed was an immaterial, mulder-esque lead that couldn’t be pinned down (as your fellow agent was torn between shapeshifter and werewolf). on top of that were ten dead bodies, no evidence, and a motel room with broken air conditioning, complete with a leaky sink. you were sick to death of the heat, and the town, and the local policemen who seemed to have but two executive functions: hit on you or ignore your assertions. for a stagnant fifth day, you’d experienced more frustration than ever- the cops have begun to give up on catching a suspect, fox was investigating muddy footprints all afternoon like the freak he is, and you were stuck to sit in the closet-sized archives room at the local library where teenagers and nagging townspeople came in to ogle the “fbi lady”… jesus, no wonder your head hurts. 
fox came by every so often to check on you that afternoon. once with a cup of coffee, once with half of a sandwich he’d thoughtfully taken a bite out of to piss you off, and again with dirt all over his face and a wild story about how he caught a glimpse of his x file mid-attack. if you weren’t used to his personality by now it might’ve made things worse, but in a way his teasing and subtle acts of service were the only soothing memories you had to reflect on. he was a moment of consistency between the endless chaotic installments of the afternoon. 
at the end of the day, you were mentally exhausted, hungry for the other half of that sandwich fox ate, and in need of the shitty motel bed; at the very least some peace and quiet, just for one night. but it seemed your partner wouldn’t let you have it. 
you’d had about an hour to yourself before fox materialized in your motel room. after a shower that quickly ran cold, you slipped into a sweatshirt, a threadbare set of sleep shorts that were a bit tight for your pudgy legs, and two flimsy socks that didn’t match because you hadn’t packed for a trip this long. you’d tried watching the television, but the antennae were spotty no matter how you arranged them. the air conditioning machine clanked and whistled nonstop, and hiding under your pillows didn’t dull the racket. the best part was when you tried to light the little bedside yankee candle and the lighter ran out of fluid- but not before it sparked and burned your thumb. you’d finally begun to decompress when a familiar knock sounded from outside. summoning a forcibly loud groan- so your tall visitor heard exactly how you felt- you clambered off the creaking bed and towards the door, which revealed his trademark smug smile. 
“good evening, watson!”
“what do you want?” you sighed, closing your eyes. 
you felt his hand push your shoulder to the side, and the man squeezed past you into the room. you scoffed and said, “oh, please, make yourself at home!” 
“i will, thank you,” fox teased. “i came to check on you.”
“because?”
“well, you’ve been a wreck all day! didn’t laugh at one of my jokes. you nearly bit the sheriff's head off tonight when we checked in at the station before leaving… i just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“oh? well, you know what? no, mulder, i’m not okay. we’ve been stranded out in the middle of nowhere for a week with no leads and no progress and the food here sucks and i haven’t had a single good night’s sleep and all my socks are dirty!” you ranted, pacing in front of the half-open door like a lunatic. 
fox grinned as if he knew something you didn’t and turned from you, heading towards the tiny bathroom tucked in the corner of the room. you slammed the front door shut and followed him, snapping, “what, you come in asking how i feel and just walk away? explain to me how that makes any sense, mulder!”
the agent leaned against the bathroom sink, hands laid curiously on the lip of the counter. he dutifully watched the little crystal droplets that fell rhythmically down the ceramic bowl. the air surrounding him felt charged, like if you stepped too close, you’d get shocked; almost as if his thoughts were electrifying the oxygen. 
he frustrated you beyond belief sometimes. the man stood in your bathroom like his day was going perfectly fine. a gray t-shirt clung to his lean arms, hugging the curves of his biceps like it was tailored for him alone; his sweatpants were black and littered with lint from the hairy couch in his apartment, and they hung low on his hips, peeping the waistband of his black boxers like a well-known secret. his hair was pointing every which way in its tawny misdirection, and he had the nerve to inspect your sink, and lick his lips like he had all the time in the world to enjoy the southern sticks and lupine mysteries, all while you had to scour newspapers and sleep in ten minute increments to survive. 
“mulder, what the hell are you doing?” 
“your sink is leaking.” 
“yeah, i know, sherlock.”
“did you ask them to fix it?”
“mulder, i will not hesitate to kick you out.”
“jeez, somebody’s worked up.”
the man pivoted on his feet, facing you with a newfound sense of purpose. you were prepared to object his statement, but were silenced by his hands finding your hips. he was so quick to slide you up onto the counter that you forgot your rebuttal- in fact, in his rush to relocate you, you’d forgotten to think entirely. he had your thighs pinned to the cold, white countertop, and parted so he could press his tummy to the spot where your legs met. his shirt rode up in the moment, and you could feel the warmth of his bare skin against the fabric of your shorts. 
fox’s hands felt rough. you stared at them, at the sheer size, and recollected all the little stolen glances of those fingers sifting through his filing cabinets, or analyzing your field notes, or polishing his gun. countless vivid reminders of the strength of them as they pulled you back from bullets and unexpected staircases flashed before your eyes. how often you longed for them, you couldn’t say, but it was clear to you now as those same hands held you down that you had taken a serious liking to them. 
it took you a while, but you managed to mutter, “what are you doing?”
fox could only smile wider and say, “you need to relax, don’t you?” 
“what does that-”
“why don’t you let me help you?” 
you swallowed thickly, feeling a bubbling heat rise in your belly. his calloused palms rode up your legs, finding room for his thumbs to begin drawing soft, sweeping circles against your hip bones. your brain clouded so fast you forgot to answer. 
“i’ve never seen you so aggravated before… like, by every little thing. i mean, i know you get annoyed, but these past couple days have been so rough for you, haven’t they? just can’t calm down, can you? you look so tired, so tense. i can feel all the tension you’re keeping right… here,” he consoled, letting up on your hips to press a hand to your lower abdomen. when you sucked in a nervous breath, the man pressed a little harder, and you twitched beneath him. “i can fix that for you, if you want. show you how to relax a little.” 
“y-you’re not even supposed to be in here,” you wheezed, “agents… agents aren’t supposed to consort in the same room, mulder, remember?”
“awh, come on, don’t start following the rules on me now! don’t you wanna feel better, honey?” 
fox spoke like every word was a secret, leaning in close to your ear. the scruff of his five o’clock shadow brushed against your fresh face, eliciting a spidery chill down your spine. 
“what’s gotten into you, mulder?”
“i asked you a question, sweetheart.”
you panicked, swallowing air like it was water. these kinds of questions felt new coming from him. anxiously, you let out a shaky breath and nodded, hoping that was enough. you couldn’t handle much else.
“is that a yes?”
“...mhm.”
“can you say yes for me?”
fuck. “yes.”
“good girl. it’ll help, i promise.” 
it seemed he couldn’t be going any slower than he was just then, gingerly removing his hands from your waist and biting his lower lip like the reincarnate of a dream you’d entertained too many times before. you watched with a spinning head as his long, spindly fingers hooked under the waistband of your shorts. his pale eyes twinkled at you, sage steeped in milk, as he asked, “can i?” in that lilting voice he uses only when the room is begging for quiet. when you eagerly nodded, he chuckled, “lift up for me a little, okay?” 
you followed orders and pressed your shaky hands to the tile, raising your hips so he had room to slide your shorts down. his face melted at the sight of you underneath. 
night after night, he’d fantasized about those doe eyes of yours watching him free you up like this, but he never imagined he’d get the chance. until this afternoon, when he resolved to create the chance. through all these years working beside you, he’s only grown to admire you more. you were cunning, you were gentle with kids, you were smarter than he ever could be (even if you disagreed.) but you were also tired. you lived alone, you slept alone, you never asked for help and you declined every offer. fox hated to see you facilitate your own frustration. and this past week has only exacerbated his need to fix it- watching you so angry, so pent up, so in need of attention- he couldn't bear to let you suffer any longer. it seems he’s been lucky, too, because you sat quietly, patiently, all so that he could take care of you. grateful for the opportunity, fox didn’t want to waste any more time. 
with those dreamy fingertips grazing your underwear, fox was the spitting image of boyish charm. he admired the worn black and grey striped fabric covering what was left of you, thinking aloud, “had these for a while, huh?” 
“since i was in college,” you muttered, “everything i wore was dark back then.”
“nothing’s changed. you’re very punk rock,” he winked.
you didn’t know you were capable of laughing in your current state, but it came bubbling up in a nervous overflow. he watched your lips curl, and the way you threw your head back like you couldn’t stop yourself. you felt embarrassed to be so swayed by his stupid humor, but you had no choice. not when he had you wrapped around his finger like this.
“you’re a dork.”
“you like it, though,” he reassured. 
you watched the man hesitate, eyes darting down to your lips; you closed your eyes, hoping it would nudge him in the right direction, and you were right. fox had to crane his neck down a bit- because even with you on the counter, he was still taller- but he made himself level, and he pressed his lips to yours so gently you almost didn’t feel him there. what announced him was the taste of him, actually; stale coffee on his tongue, and what you deduced to be the black-label chapstick, the kind that tasted like medicine. you toppled into him like you were falling off a cliff, clinging to the hem of his shirt in longing. 
fox seemed to like how you hung on him. it made him feel risky. his hands meandered across your tummy, pushing up under your sweatshirt and roaming the soft skin of your back. he caught your bottom lip between his teeth and tugged softly, and when you opened your eyes in surprise, he nudged your nose like a kitten and let it go. he was good at taking control like this, at making your nerves ebb and flow to his pace. you were so entranced in the way his lips meshed with yours that when his dominant hand found its way to your hips again, you mewled in anticipation. 
“you sound a lot prettier when you’re not arguing with me,” fox joked. you met him with a soft sound from the back of your throat, and his eyebrows furrowed in amusement. “can barely speak, can you?”
“mm-mm,” you answered, trying to trap his lips again, but he pulled away. 
his eyes shifted shade, and you were now seeing yourself reflected in much darker irises. your back shivered against the mirror on the wall. he broke eye contact and let it linger on your legs, his palms swiping over the skin with intention. swiftly, he bent over and began pressing kisses to your inner thighs. you let out a strangled whine, which made him shudder.
“you want me to get to it, hm?”
“please, f… mulder,” you whispered, blushing like a fool. 
the man rose again to lock you in a soft kiss, one so much more loving than the others that it let butterflies loose in your chest. interrupting their fluttering, he prodded, “what was that?”
it was out of you before you had a chance to weigh the outcomes. “please, fox.” 
having teased long enough, fox dropped to his knees and pushed your panties aside. his mouth was so slick from all the time it spent on yours that it was dangerously warm as it pressed against your heat. you let out a lewd string of moans as his tongue trailed a long, torturous stripe between your folds, taking his sweet time getting to the top. he felt you throbbing, all the blood in your body pulsing like a heartbeat for him. his lips, just a bit swollen, peppered a few gentle kisses to the skin before surrounding your bud and starting to suck. 
you squeezed your eyes shut so hard it nearly brought your headache back. fox grunted between your hips, the pads of his fingers pressing hard into your bones. you softened for his tongue as it swirled inside your pussy, tracing shapes to drive you insane. your hands burrowed into his cropped cut and tugged in desperation, which he liked so much it practically made him growl; the sound bounced between your walls, sending a sensation into your stomach that made your legs tremble. he felt so good inside you like this, lapping like a puppy at your water; you bucked against his big nose, craving the friction, and he responded with relentless thirst for you.  
“fuck!” you whined, “fox- agh,”
coming up for a gulp of air, you caught a glimpse of his slick chin as it glinted in the yellow light. “feels good?” 
“shit,” you panted, “yes, obviously… more,” 
“more, huh?” fox licked his lips with hungry eyes. “i’m gonna need you to say please, baby.”
“jesus, fox, please! pretty please, baby, please just keep going,” 
“fuck, don’t call me names…” the man swooned at the broken cry in your voice, resolving to give you whatever you needed until the day you die. now wasn’t the time for confession, though, so he filed that away for later. “pretty please. god, you’re good.”
you nearly choked as he pushed two fingers into you, curling them in a rough come-hither motion. he bombarded you with himself, sucking hard on your clit and fucking his fingers into the swelling spot inside you, making you lurch against his touch like an animal. with your head thrown back against the motel mirror and pretty mouth gasping for him, he realized that his dreams could never do this moment justice. the sugary, tangy taste you left on his tongue, your soft skin that smelled like shower suffocating him, the way his name rolled off your tongue- you were the real fucking deal, not some half-assed daydream that got him off at night. you were beautiful, and for not being a praying man, being on his knees before you felt right. who was he to stand eye to eye with you, when down here where you were perched above him like an angel, he had so much more room to worship you? 
“fuck, i- oh, i’m…” you whimpered, grinding against his face with fervor. 
“let it go, honey, come on,” he cooed, “i’ll take care of you.” 
“b-but i- i’ve never- oh my god!”
the agent watched you battle with yourself, all the while writhing on the countertop, so he carefully brought his thumb to your clit and picked up the pace. he rose to you again, using his free arm to slither around the base of your back and pull your body flush against his. you bunched his shirt in your fists helplessly and hid your face in his shoulder. it took all his strength not to collapse right then and there, but he kept moving for you, and you rocked against his palm like you were made for it. when he realized you were going to need a little more help, he gave it to you. 
you were stressed, after all, and sometimes somebody’s just got to talk you through it, right?
“never had it this good before, hm? nobody’s ever made you cum, sweetheart? you poor thing,” fox twitted, clicking his tongue. “you work so hard. my smart girl, so good at her job, so independent… you deserve to be taken care of, to feel good, baby. to let go of all that stress,” 
you struggled to think straight as his gruff voice battled the ringing in your ears. his palm pressed against your back with so much care, like if he moved it you’d shatter into a million pieces. it was all so much, to have your partner with you like this; to hear him breathing beside you, to feel his fingers in a place you’d never thought they’d be. he saw the gears turning in your head still, and he wanted to shut your brain off for good. and god, did he. fox coaxed it right out of you like it was his job. 
“come on, good girl, you can do it,” he whispered. “cum for me, honey, i know you can. show me you can.”
for every moment of danger you found yourself stuck in, fox was there to protect you. when you got reprimanded by a director, he was there to hold your hand behind the safety of the desk. when you were late and needed a cover, he was prepared with a detailed story. you’d forgotten a raincoat a comical number of times, so many in fact that he began keeping a spare in his office for you to borrow. fox was always there, waiting to help you, to guide you, and if it was fucked up (so far as to call it freudian) then so be it- you needed it from him. you needed his safety, his warmth, the strength of his arms around you. his reassurance. 
and to hear him care for you like this, too, to pull on your strings and unravel you like a tired tapestry… god, nothing ever felt so good. 
fox’s eyes rolled back as you twitched on his fingers, moaning his name like a prayer into the stuffy bathroom air. your hands struggled to find a place to stay as they combed through his hair frantically, tugging and trembling; it was like you’d never been touched before in your life. you had, but very few times, and it was just like he said- nobody had done it right. but he had. it felt like his hands were crafted to please you. they knew exactly where to touch, how fast, how gentle, how deep. the man figured you out instantly, which was as exciting as it was terrifying. you’ve never felt so out of it in your entire life. 
you panted wildly, and fox gave soft kisses to your hair while you tried to regain your composure. but you couldn’t. you couldn’t get a grasp on anything. the world was floating in limbo around you, all inconstant; the countertop felt as foreign to you as flying did. but even in your daze, you craved more- the second he stopped, you needed him to start again. you could barely speak, but he heard your mumblings: “m…more, more, f… foxie,”
that nickname gave him goosebumps. slowly, he said, “baby, i don’t have anything with me for that,”
“don’t care. please.” you begged. there was no way he could say no to you, not when your pretty, cloudy eyes looked up at him how they did. 
“okay, baby, okay.” 
fox gave no warning, but nothing would have prepared you anyway- you instinctively opened your hips wider just to make enough room for him. he pushed all the way in, letting himself bottom out; the man let out a moan so guttural that you clenched around him in reflex. you were lucky enough to see him make that pretty ‘o’ face, and that might’ve been enough for you, honestly, but it wasn’t for him. he needed you, and he needed you fast. 
his thrusts were no match for all the grinding you could do. he snapped back and forth like a whip, hips rolling so hard that it felt like he was digging inside you deeper each time. you dragged your nails down his back, trying to find something to hold onto, but his moans in your ear as he hid his face in your neck were so distracting you kept having to start over. 
“jesus, baby, you’re so tight for me,” he grumbled, “feels so good, you’re doing so good… fuck, my good girl.”
his praise made every nerve in your body short-circuit. it didn’t matter how he moved, you couldn’t stop babbling. he tugged your hips forward a little more, making you slump against the mirror, and you clutched the countertop for dear life. 
“can’t use your words, huh, baby? look at you, smartest analyst in the fbi and you can barely speak, all because of me,” he tormented. the man pressed his right hand against your tummy again, just like he had before, and he growled with lust. he seized your hand and pressed it flat beneath his in the same spot, and he fucked you harder, forcing it down until you felt his thrusting beneath your palm. you never thought you’d feel anything like this, not with your soft stomach, but he was making it possible.
“you feel that, pretty? feel me inside you, filling you up? you’re mine now. all mine.”
you had no control. you whined, “foxie,” jerking your hips against his cock in a craze. 
“god, that’s right, that’s my girl.” he smiled.
“s-so… a-agh, please!”
“mm, i know, baby, keep going,” 
you had no more words left, you’d used them all. fox had figured out how to take away all your stress, yet in the process, he took your whole mind with it. now you were just his, a thing to be kissed, a fleshy body for him to praise. for a control freak, you loved being the one under another’s control for once. 
you scratched at fox’s shoulders, a mindless drop of drool dribbling from the corner of your mouth. you felt his cock as it swelled against your slick walls, and how it poked against your insides, and if that weren’t enough, he moved his hand to your clit again and resumed rubbing those blissful circles into it. you could only sit there and grind against his touch, muttering strings of curses and unintelligible sounds.
“agh, baby, you’re so pretty like this,” his moans were growing harsh, turning into whines. “all fucked out, mm, so pretty for me,”
his hips started snapping erratically, and your back arched against the increasing speed. his teeth met your shoulder and he bit softly, grumbling, “i’m so close,”
in what felt like a cry but came out as a strangled whimper, you warned, “m’gonna… agh…” 
fox watched your face screw up in pleasure, and it pushed him right over the edge. your body collapsed as you let go, and he rushed to hold you to him and keep you upright. all the way in your gut, where your hand once rested, you felt him pooling all over, thick and warm. his thumb swirled you slowly, working you through it so you didn’t get too shocked. he was stationary for a while, unable to move from the overstimulation; but when he did, he watched the stuff bubble out of you, though only just a bit. his throat closing up at the sight. he gathered some of it on his fingers and raised them to your lips, and you licked them sweetly. his stomach churned as you gazed down at his hand with foggy eyes, somehow still lustful after all he’d done to tire you out. 
“good job, baby, you were so good for me,” he crooned, leaving sloppy, tired kisses all over your neck. “someone’s gotta take care of you, don’t they?” 
you just murmured little hums, and he loved every second of it. 
“you hear me, pretty girl? nobody takes better care of you than me, you got it? who takes good care of you?” 
“foxie,” you admitted in your mindless bliss. 
“that’s right, baby, foxie does. you’re all mine, honey,” he gushed. “not so stressed anymore, are you?”
“mm-mm.”
“are you okay? take a deep breath for me.”
you tried to speak, but the words weren’t forming. you couldn’t string anything together. all you could do was make quiet noises and mutter his name. “mmph… foxie,”
“here, come here, honey.” 
fox tucked his hands beneath your thighs, and after instructing you to wrap your arms around his neck nice and tight, he carried you from the croaking bathroom sink to the motel bed, where he took extra care in laying you down comfortably. he climbed on top of you and adjusted your shirt, smoothing the fabric over your plush tummy and drawing a dopey smile from you. 
“stuck in your head, hm?” fox asked. 
he’d read up on this type of thing before- subspaces. typically common in BDSM practices, but not exclusively. there was a study conducted that detailed the experience theoretically as a headspace induced by rushes of endorphins, causing the receiver to fall into a trance-like state. he remembered reading how when someone is in a subspace their ability to communicate can be impaired and so can their judgment. it was also suggested that asking grounding questions may help coax people out of them (don’t ask how he found such a study.) so being the guy he is, he took everything very slowly from there, and followed the science. 
“can you hear me, sweetheart?” 
“mm.”
“good. what’s my name?” 
your stomach fluttered at the question, and warmth pooled between your hips at the softness with which he asked, but your brain was two steps behind. it took you a minute to answer, and you could only do it with your eyes closed. “foxie,” you muttered. 
“good girl, good job. that’s right,” he rewarded you with a kiss to the collarbone. beneath his breath he muttered, “fuck, if that isn’t cute.”
he could see you were somewhere else. all of your behavior was so needy. you might’ve thought you were a headcase before, but he’s no stranger to id impulses either; he saw how you pushed into his palms, how you refused to let go of his shirt, and he just wanted to help you through it. he wanted to make sure you felt safe. 
“baby, can you open your eyes for me? can you let me see your pretty eyes?” 
you peeked through one and saw his handsome face staring back at you, that toothy grin blooming flowers in your chest. slowly you opened the other, and even though the world was swirling, you managed to keep them open.
“you’re doing so good, thank you, baby,” he chuckled. “now, i’m gonna put your shorts back on, okay?”
“m’kay.” 
you took a deep breath. he watched your chest rise and fall, and your cheeks burn even redder than he thought possible. your hand held his wrist tightly, tight enough that he prayed your nails would leave little moon-shaped marks behind. you shook your head and tried to wipe away the fuzzy feeling. 
“what’s my name again?” he asked, noticing how hard you were trying to focus. he tapped on your hip so you’d know to lift them, and he wriggled your shorts back on, admiring how they hugged the skin.  
“f-fox.”
“good. what’s my job?” 
“you’re… a profiler,” you volleyed, feeling a little more grounded with each passing second. 
“good girl. and where are we, honey?”
you squinted at him and smiled, “bumblefuck, virginia.” 
when fox laughed, it felt like all the angels rung their bells. something about seeing his face light up and whatever was plaguing him, whatever he was in danger of, just wash away in the moment was nothing short of enlightenment. you wished he’d laugh more, so you could see divine intervention on the regular. 
“coming back to me, hm?” 
“yeah,” you giggled. 
fox leaned down and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “i’m trying not to let my ego explode right now, you know,” he smirked, “i never thought you wanted me so bad.” 
you blushed, hiding behind your hands. “i… oh, god.”
“no, no, it was cute! really. you… you don’t know how badly i’ve wanted to do that.” he promised. 
“i’ve never felt-” you paused, wondering if it was worth saying. yet, if he could bring you back to earth after fucking you stupid, what secrets could you hide from him? “i’ve never felt like this about anyone before.”
“who, me?” fox laughed.
“mhm. it’s just…  agh. you. it’s only you, fox. embarrassingly so.”
it was his turn to blush then. fox leaned down to catch you in one more kiss, and you felt his hand search the bedsheets for yours so he could tangle your fingers with his own. he didn’t want to break away, so he said it right into your mouth, pausing for air: “god- i have- loved- you for- so long.”
fox couldn’t help but feel proud of himself as he laid down between your legs, resting his head on your warm belly like it was a pillow. you instinctively took to his hair, playing with the chocolatey tufts and wishing he’d never move. he fit so perfectly right there, and now you couldn’t ever let him go. you didn’t want to.
with one last kiss to your hip, fox grinned. “told you i could help.”
93 notes · View notes
badchoicesworld · 8 months
Note
Hi i was wondering if you could do a male s/o that gets super insecure and uncomfortable when people look at his top surgery scars and he hates it when people miss gender him and Miles Morales Miles 42 Hobie Pavitr Prabhakar and Spider-Noir are there to defend or shut the people that miss gender him or glare at them to the point where the other person gets uncomfortable and stop looking at the male reader I'm sorry if it doesn't make sense i just type really fast and don't re-read it at some points
Anyways I absolutely love your writing work I really enjoy it and everything, have a lovely day or night ❤️💕
hobie, 1610!miles, 42!miles, pavitr and noir defending their transmasc partners
ok this took me a while i admit but i hope you enjoy !
established, separate relationships
warnings: i’m sleepy
pairing: hobie brown x transmasc!reader, earth-1610 miles morales x transmasc!reader, earth-42 miles morales x trans!mascreader, pavitr prabhakar x transmasc!reader, spider-noir x transmasc!reader
requests: check out the blog-guide for info !
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he’s rapidly approaching
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punk personified
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you two were getting ready for a sick concert you’ve been looking forward to for a small while now, moral is high and all’s good
ofc it’s punk, and hobie will be damned if you don’t dress the part with him
he started diying you guys outfits for this specific concert a few weeks beforehand, and he’s super proud of them ! very happy to show you and he hopes you like them
you like them . because i said so
however, it did include a shirt that looks like it had been torn up in every way possible
depending on what ur comfortable with, it can either be a crop top that rides up just a little too much when you jump about and stretch OR it’s one of those tank tops where the sides of your torso simply aren’t covered, very low cut sides
so yeah, your top surgery scars are in the breeze
intentional ? who knows, this is hobie we’re talking about
maybe hobie’s tryna get you to step out of your comfort zone and feel more comfortable in ur skin in an environment where he knows you won’t be judged
perhaps he simply did not take this into consideration because he doesn’t even think twice about ur scars
regardless, they’re out, you both look sick, im forever furious that we were deprived of tank top hobie in low riders PLEASE (he exists in my dreams)
the concert isn’t the problem- don’t call urself punk if ur a bigot we all know this
it’s the walk there that really sucked
you and hobie got some intense stares from people as you walked hand in hand to this thing
naturally, hobie ate that shit up, kept his head high the whole time and doesn’t bat an eye at this people
you’re not as confident, unfortunately . catching people looking at your scars makes you feel all sorts of insecure, which is valid man
hobie also gets this, and god knows he looks for every excuse to antagonise those closed minded people so he’s very content to start a fight
cant care less when it comes to people judging him, he knows who he is and he’s proud asf, not gonna waste his breath on that
but when hobie sees his boyfriend curling in on himself because of strangers in the street that aren’t shit, that’s when he can be bothered to pay some mind to them
it’s subtle, for your sake . doesn’t wanna draw any more attention and risk getting caught up in this when you’ve both been looking forward to this concert for so long
so instead of outright starting a fight, he uses that scary privilege he knows he has and just stared them down in such a disrespectful way
the way that you’re both dressed too, i’m sure that it works
doesn’t relent either, will stare until the other people stop staring
ideally ? he wants to make them walk away and stop bothering you, but he’s alright with exchanging a scowl for the person to look away instead, preferably in shame
when they’re taken care of, that’s that . he wants you two to forget about that and have fun at this gig, sound good ? he wants to see you genuinely enjoying yourself in your own skin, surrounded by the people that make him feel more like himself too
besides, scars are nothing to be ashamed of or to hide
the walk home is a lot more peaceful
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i’m sorry u were ever hurt
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you two are off to the water park (using the american word, sorry fellow brits :() together, enjoy ur youth
imagine how cool you two are rolling up in ur swimming trunks
i wholeheartedly believe that miles is an absolute sap and would wanna match- i die on the hill that he’s a born to “hi ( ´ ▽ ` )ノ” forced to “wsg”
anyway, go have fun at the baths
that’s what miles expects anyway, fun with no strings attached, as most would
but that’s not how the world works, unfortunately
some people live to be hateful and have sad, empty, boring, gloomy, pathetic, waste of space lives, and you have to go through the misfortune of enduring some really vicious stares . all because you’re a guy with a few scars on his chest
people talk, you might overhear some stuff about ur character that makes you really insecure and upset
takes miles a little minute to clock the way you’re trying to fold your arms to hide your scars, but he catches on pretty quickly that it’s because of the people around you
is immediately by your side and looking concerned as hell
initially assumed that you might be in some pain, maybe the chlorine is fucking w ur scar tissue
sympathetic and checking in on you in the gentlest way when he notices that sadness
“w-hey, what’s happenin? you good?” standing really close and tilting his head to make eye contact with you if you’re looking down or away, hands are grazing your elbows to hold you
miles cares, a lot
speak ur mind man, tell him what’s going on
looks over your shoulder and at the people making you feel uncomfortable with that determined look
ushers you away, doesn’t want you around those kind people . bad vibes, he doesn’t fuck w it
probably goes snitch to staff lmao
and that’s how much he cares, he’d get stitches for u (ノд`)
but miles isn’t about to let the day be ruined by transphobes- god forbid
so he’s gonna try hard to make you forget about that interaction, it’s like a switch when he suddenly becomes all energetic again and is basically dragging you back towards the water
wants to hear you start laughing real fast
if miles venom striked the pool would everyone fucking die ?
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cat
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GYM BABY
PE class gotta suck with all those bitchy teens being closed minded for no good reason and thinking it’s funny to openly judge and mock the things they don’t understand
miles is very mature and knows that bullying just isn’t cool, downright stupid and bullies should honestly be embarrassed to show their face
but because the changing rooms are so small, he can’t even attempt to ignore the comments he’s hearing, all directed at his boyfriend who’s just trying to change for class
you’re minding your own business, why can’t they mind theirs ?
is another person that doesn’t wanna give you a worse time by antagonising those freaks and picking a fight, will instead just stare over his shoulder
works, miles 42 has a mean side eye, straight up vicious
he knows that won’t resolve the issue, people are so resilient w their hate and
gets insanely irritated if someone suggests you changing somewhere else . honestly would just prefer for there to be some tension in the locker room instead of isolating you away while you changed, couldn’t stand that idea because it’s flat out not fair . on top of a number of other things
can ignore the tension, doesn’t know about you
talks to you about not backing down, you have every right ro be in there and you shouldn’t feel in any way negatively about it
don’t give those closed minded people the satisfaction of making you feel bad about yourself and accommodating to them
makes an excellent point one day
“why are you watchin’ my boyfriend change..?” says it so slowly and it got real awkward after that
won’t tell a teacher unless you want to, then he’ll be moral support and be waiting for you outside the office
anyway, man’s got a killer deadeye to keep people in line and tries to not antagonise people too much
just get changed, that’s what you’re there to do people
stop being weird abt it
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please don’t die
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i’m a huge fan of those people that see a trans flag and immediately try to pull a “you’ll never be a real woman >:C” to a trans man
like yeah, thanks man, really appreciate it
it’s happened to you once or twice in the street, you or pav have some kind of pin or smthn and you’re literally just approached by strangers who have nothing better to do with their day
the most meaningful thing abt it is talking to you two honestly, ur just that cool
i can see him reading people just to point out their insecurities because violence isn’t the answer
it’s a last resort, but imagine you two simply minding your own business and this blank slate of a person decides to make a comment on your masculinity
“it’s okay sweetie, they’re just trying to overcompensate for their lack of a personality ! (๑˃́ꇴ˂̀๑)” huh 👁️👁️
pays literally no mind to them, pretends nothing happens and keeps walking with you
it’s like an invisible force field, bounces right off of him and somehow hurts the other person more
walking embodiment of that “i am rubber you are glue, what bounces off of me stick to you” and he probably recites that, too
but yeah, so insanely unbothered that i would maybe check up on him from time to time ? how is he always so chipper ? is bro good ?
but it’s infectious, so you can’t let it get to you either, it’s hard to feel sad around pav
he will somehow coincidentally always find something to immediately take ur mind off if it
after a shitty interaction with someone talking about pronouns and how theirs are an inanimate object, he miraculously spots a food stand you guys haven’t tried yet
does that Σ(゚ロ゚) face of his while gasping and drags you over, no questions asked
interrupts the person with the longest gasp, one would assume he hadn’t had a breath of fresh air ever
“look look! we have to try it!” pointing like that fuckin Soyjaks meme and ur gone, bigot is left in the dust
i’ve heard food is great therapy, and he believes so too
so scran down on some good street food while pavitr looks like a beam of sunshine despite just ruining a persons self esteem for the rest of their lie
it’s deserved though, so you can both sleep well
yknow what else slaps ? some chai, go home and have some w his aunty who thinks you’ve a very handsome young man
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why the fuck is he so broad hang on
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she/her a he/him and get shot, idk mans got a whole firearm for a reason
it’s takes him a little while to understand trans slander, but eventually it becomes like a fine art to him because i think he has a tendency to hyperfixate on things until he understands them in violent detail (autistic. he’s violently autistic coded. cant read a room, hyperfixated on his favourite colour, struggles to express himself through his tone.. yknow)
so if one day someone happens to catch sight of your scars and starts to talk shit in whatever 30’s slang from his dimension and modern slang from your own, he is so ready to give this speech on discrimination
theres a power point slide too but he doesn’t know how that works
gives up not even half way because he got frustrated and started cursing them out instead
“look, you seem like lovely people- no, no you don’t”
he has anger issues
there’s a lot of “and my boyfriend!” followed by a compliment, he managed to throw a few in there for good measure
says something about the colour purple at one point, i don’t know how that happened
please steer him away before someone gets shot over colour theory (surprised it hasn’t happened yet, ammarite fellow artists ? 😀 )
apologises for getting carried away, has to stop himself from talking about colours again he’s just such a peter and so unserious
“i’m sorry i- that must have been hard for you” clearly it was harder for u dear god
is likely the most insistent on doing anything and everything to make you feel better, is open to suggestions and is basically begging for them
while everyone else is low-key for ur own sake, this man’s about to buy you the world with his 4 dollars which is pretty impressive in his dimension
insists on doing your favourite things, is suggesting this and that, left right and centre
is convinced it’s the end of the world, this is reinforced since you seemed so upset and uncomfortable being misgendered by some people on the street
if you’re plenty happy to settle doing something, he’s thrilled and is giving it his 110% just for you
go watch a movie, careful not to point out the colours of noir will then realise that movies are no longer in black and white and starts asking you if everything is purple
“what a lovely purple :]” pan to like a whole pyramid
★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧
anyway, can you tell that hobie is easiest for me to write for and that i was running out of ideas ?
let me know how you feel about it !
if this flops i’m gonna have to go on a long stroll
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mizu-nights · 30 days
Note
HELLO!!! iys me again heheh, id like to request ermm.. tsukasa and minori, with a s/o that RARELY shows affection by physical touch, BUT gets really clingy when theyre half awake or when theyre sick,,, though when they fully regained their consciousness/health,, they get embarrassed about it? thank yew :3!!
♬ now playing: "suddenly clingy"
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-> when you've got a partner as aloof and reserved as you, can you really blame them for being so surprised?
★ — chars ; tsukasa , minori
★ — notes ; MWEHEHE HELLO AGAIN LYN (i hope thats ur name and im not misreading anything somehow huhu)!!! another tsukasa and minori req... rlly love writing them so im always grateful :3 DID U KNOW I DREW MINORI FOR MY CLASS PIN THING!?!?! my teacher was nice enough to print it out for everyone hehe... still have yet to receive it bc of break but just a fun little thing that happened!! hope u enjoy <3
★ — warnings ; implied fem!reader for minori (implies that reader also attends miyamasuzaka) , otherwise none!
★ — taglist ; @akitosheart , @mintchocaur (tsukasa!!)
affiliated with @virtualbookstore ★
★ track #1: tenma tsukasa
to put it simply, tsukasa was really surprised! just the night before, you were so calm and reserved, maybe holding his hand a few times. even kissing his cheek once or twice.
... but right now? after you just woke up? you're all over him. literally. he doesn't mind, please don't get him wrong! tsukasa finds it endearing, if anything. it's just...
"tsukasa... love you..."
feeling your entire body cling onto his with such desperation... he wants to question it, but at the same time, it might risk embarrassing you and making you back away again, which isn't what he wants at all!
though the embarrassment was basically inevitable, as 20 minutes or so later, you're back to your usual self, just a little more shy this time.
"oh, goodness... tsukasa, i'm sorry, i didn't-"
"not to worry, [name]! i don't mind it one bit!"
he knows that you don't show a lot of affection normally for a reason. maybe you're too shy, maybe you're uncomfortable with it. as much as he loves it when you do, tsukasa doesn't force you to do anything! sure, he'll ask once or twice every once in a while, but he's very understanding if the answer is no.
... though, if you do it when you're fully awake for the first time... expect him to suddenly get all quiet and freeze up. it's a good thing, no worries.
★ track #2: hanasato minori
minori's way of showing her love for you is mostly words of affirmation or gift giving, so she doesn't mind that you aren't too keen on physical affection!
that doesn't mean anything bad, of course! it's not like she doesn't want to hug you, hold you, or kiss you, it's just that... she's a little shy about it. which means your lack of physical affection works out just fine.
so you can imagine how perplexed she was when you started begging for her attention, holding her hand and asking her to stay with you when you got sick.
"minori, stay a little longer... i'll feel so much better if you're here..."
minori may be an idol now, but hearing compliments from someone she truly holds near and dear to her heart... might give her a heart attack.
... but she also really adores it. after all, it makes her feel loved and special, more so since it's coming from you, of all people.
with all the training and practices she needs to attend to nowadays, minori makes sure to leave cute, handwritten notes or sweet text messages to check up on you! if you're allowed to use your phone when you're sick, that is.
when you finally recover and go back to school, it's absolutely over for the both of you. minori gets flustered easily on her own, but now that you've also lost your cool, getting all red alongside her? it's quite a cute scene from an outsider's perspective.
... the outsiders being the rest of more more jump, of course. as silly and clumsy the two of you can be, you're really the perfect pair for each other.
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lizzaneia-elizalde · 3 months
Note
Hi, Goodmorning/night! how has your day been? :3 i hope it went well!
If its okay, can I request mermaid reader (preferably fem), dropping some stuff down to Viper? It can be small jewelry she doesn't quite like or anything REALLY shiny — because she thinks sending him stuff would make him less interested in her and more on the stuff she drops. Basically her doing an offering and praying Viper would take the items instead of her
Always rest! And can I be "🦪" Anon? Im mostly a huge fan of Viper and Damon, so i might ask a lot about them! Again always rest and take care of yourself!!
Yandere! Male! Deep sea creature x mermaid! Fem! Reader: Viper route 1
That's so cute! Okay cuz I think Viper has like some similarities to Orion. He's also a collector! So I just let my hands flow and see where it takes me. Also, welcome 🦪anon! It's so nice to have more familiar faces here!
Also a bit sick, so I'll probably slow down a bit till i'm healed. Sore throat plus a runny nose, plus A FEVER WHAT LIKE LET ME BREATH????
Writing puts my mind at rest from being sick anyways...
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You pursed your lips and looked down at the void below the trenches.
It's been quite a while since you escaped Viper's grasp, and Viper has continued to try and fail to seduce you back to him with that dang light of his.
You're a curious fish, but not that curious.
You're even deliberating on moving out of the trenches and back to civilization again, but something's telling you to don't do it.
Deciding on taking your mind off of the deep sea merman, you dedicated your time in talking to Orion and knowing more about human technology. He's happy to oblige too, anyways.
But you can't help but glance back at the deep, dark void down below, telling you, whispering that you belong there.
Surely you don't.
You're a creature of light, someone who enjoys the sunrays reflecting on the blue, tranquil sea. Someone who loves looking at the boats passing by, cleaning up trash, finding little treasures that you stock up and design your little pod inside the trenches...
You're satisfied...
Are you?
You can't help but remember how cold yet warm the darkness was. How Viper coiled his long tail around yours, his body heat enveloping yours. You can still feel against your back, your skin, the way his torso pressed against yours flush and fit. Significantly stronger, can kill you with one bite and yet...
You shook your head as you shivered away the daydream. No. No no no!
Slapping your face, you grabbed your bag and zoomed back to the trenches to start your little... Littering.
You've been sprinkling these little gems, trinkets, and jewels down below to him. Sure, you might need them as it's currency, but you're self sufficient enough with a farm and an aquatic ranch. You rarely even go to civilization anymore to really use these.
So, as valuable as these treasures are, and would literally make you rich, you decided to dump them on Viper.
Sweet, little naive you thinks that this counts as littering. You really didn't want to throw down actual trash-- you're environmentally friendly, you don't want to do that. And Viper is still a merfolk despite how um, scary he is. Hope he sees it as a bribe too. Who knows? Maybe he'll leave you alone if you make him rich enough?
But then again, you're sweet, you're little...
And you're naive.
Didn't you really thought that this practice looks like you're giving him gifts?
No, a wedding gift specifically?
He did propose to you to be his mate, his eternal partner.
And you're doing this?
Oh, little one. You're too cute! Acting all shy and bashful-- you're so upfront at wanting to marry him by giving him what's equal to a dowry!
Viper collects them meticulously. Putting them in a giant pit that's slowly but surely making him richer by the second.
Should you and him move out of the trenches and back to civilization with this money? With all of these riches, both of you are basically at the upper crust now.
Then, he'll show to those pesky upperdwellers that one of them is his, and only his.
He'll show them how he owns you, loves you, and will have a family just to piss them off.
Oh, how it makes him shiver just thinking about it.
So yes, continue giving him the dowry, little one.
Sooner or later, he'll snatch you up and drag you back down to the abyss,
and live happily ever after.
That's what you wanted, right?
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lanas-delight · 5 months
Text
from across the room.
♫ rec: about you by the 1975
✰ an enhypen scenario || gen!reader x jake
✰ description — a disastrous break up, raging arguments, fading love, and what could’ve been.
✰ warnings — language, arguments, mention and accusations of cheating, and a LOT of angst.
✰ note — u guys dont know me yet but i have been told im a mastermind when it comes to writing angst 😍 (ive js made my friends cry with what ive written before lolz) anyways enjoy! 🤭😅
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Relationships never lasted with you. It was never your fault exactly, it was either them not being ready for it or just plainly doing you dirty, but you always moved on. It never phased you much, any of it, though that was because all of those people before weren’t him.
His name was Jake. You met him exactly two years and 23 days ago. Your two year anniversary was 18 days ago. You loved him, and he loved you. Everything was good. You were already living together, which happened about seven months ago, but there hasn’t been any issues. Everything was good—until it wasn’t.
“You’re kidding.”
“I wish I was,” Jake huffs, falling back onto the shared bed of yours. “Trust me, I hate it just as much as you do, maybe more,” he was referring to the business trip he was being forced to go on for a few days. He leaves tomorrow, and he hated that he would have to leave you again. This wasn’t the first business trip he’s ever been on, especially lately. He had gone on seven the last two months alone. You kept count.
"When will you be back?"
"Saturday?" He sounded unsure. "I'll call you once we get there, though," and he sat on the bed, putting on his shoes and tying the laces before continuing to pack his suitcase. You didn't say a word, only sat beside his suitcase and in hopes to reassure you, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to your cheek. You, however, just sighed and looked over at his direction, your eyes avoiding his, earning a puppy-like look from him. "What?"
"You sure have gone on a lot of trips lately," you remark, though quietly. He stares at you as you continue, "I'm worried, Jake."
"About?"
A sudden twist in your stomach, you felt sick. "Nevermind, I'll sound stupid," but he sits with you, worried and concerned terribly.
"No, what is it?"
You sighed again.
"Talk to me, Y/N."
"Are you having an affair?"
Jake laughed. He laughed. "What?" He scoffed, "Why would I ever cheat on you? Are you insane?" Such a kind thing to say to your partner, but he took it back instantly. "I'm sorry. That wasn't nice. It's really just a business trip, Y/N," he tells you, "I only love you."
"But how can I trust you?" You stood up, apart from him as he watched you with furrowed brows. "You've gone on so many, so often, you—You barely call when you're gone. How am I supposed to be sure you're not in bed with someone else?"
"Y/N," he shook his head, "If you don't have trust, we—"
"We have nothing, right?" And you turned, "Nothing new," You then walked off but he followed you into the kitchen, his packing coming to a sudden halt as he tried to make things right with you before he would leave. You grabbed some of the dishes and started to hand-wash them, while he stood near you and tried to reason with you.
"You're being ridiculous," he tells you, a bit rudely, "Why won't you listen to me?" But you ignore him. "Y/N, please. I don't want to leave with us like this. I love you—"
"Then prove it," You turned to him suddenly, "Prove that you love me, because you don't. You sleep in our bed for a couple nights then you're off on another trip. You kiss me but there's no love. There's nothing. There's . . ." You sighed, "There's nothing between us anymore. Because of you."
Jake took a step back. "Y/N, what are you saying?"
You pulled your phone out of your pocket and looked through your photos, showing him a screenshot you had taken off of Jake's phone. Messages with a girl who you didn't recognize, but when you messaged the girl, she swore they were just friends, that she had a boyfriend. But even that won't stop a girl sometimes. You didn't know how to feel, you weren't even sure if the messages had the intent of an affair. It was innocent chatting, you thought, but the fact he couldn't bring himself to look you in the eyes then made you realize the truth. It wasn't innocent. It wasn't a surprise either.
"I don't know why you talk to her, tell her everything while you tell me nothing, but if she's what you want, then she can have you." You threw a pot down in the sink, creating a loud noise to echo through the kitchen and the rest of the apartment as you stormed out, grabbed your coat and slid on your uggs. "I'm going to F/N's," you say, seeing him appear in the hallway behind you. "Goodnight, Jake." The door slammed behind you and you left, leaving the love you had once for him behind.
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He called twice, left a voicemail, and sent over 30 messages, explaining everything. He didn't have feelings for that other girl, though he didn't give you any reason to think otherwise so you left that night. You didn't want anything to do with him. Genuinely, you didn't. You didn't know if he had actually cheated, though he claimed he didn't and that he would never do that to you, but he opened up to that girl about things you never even knew an ounce about.
She did have a boyfriend, but it wasn't until a week later that she texted you, telling you that she did like your boyfriend, which caused her own boyfriend to dump her. It wasn't surprising to you at all.
You had been staying at your friend's house for the last week, so when you finally called him back, you only asked him if he had any feelings for that girl. He didn't say anything. He hesitated, but he said no. However, that wasn't enough for you. You hung up on him and texted him that you were through. You asked him to have his stuff out of your apartment by next Friday, which he agreed to.
But on that Friday, when he was taking the last of his stuff, he stopped and looked at you coldly, unsure what to say but spoke anyways. His voice deep and hurt, just like his heart, just like yours.
"You didn't fight for us," he told you, "You didn't even care to listen to what I had to say. You leave every time it gets hard, you blame me for everything I do, but what am I supposed to do when you won't even hear me out, Y/N?"
"I don't know," You stared back at him with crossed arms, "Maybe don't cheat on me?" You scoffed, but he couldn't believe you.
"Why do you have to brush me aside like that?" Jake questioned, "You never listened to me. Have you even considered the possibility that I didn't open up to you because you didn't give me the chance to?"
You unfolded your arms, but you took his words the wrong way. "Are you implying I made you cheat on me?"
But that enraged him. "I didn't cheat on you, Y/N!" He raises his voice, throwing his hands in the air defensively, "I talked to who I thought was my friend, about personal stuff because I couldn't bring myself to talk to you about it, so instead of just trusting me to tell you on my own, you go through my phone and accuse me of cheating on you."
"You hesitated," you threw it back in his face, "When I asked you if you liked her, you hesitated before saying no. You had to think about whether or not you liked another girl while you were with me. Do you not realize how pathetic that made me feel?"
"Do you not realize how pathetic you've made me feel?" Jake remarks, tears in his eyes, mirroring yours, "I'm the bad guy in every part of this story, Y/N, because you won't even give me the chance to explain myself. You keep dismissing me and ignoring me, but why won't you listen to me? I love you with all I have, Y/N."
But you wiped your tears, sniffling. "I never want to see you again."
His eyes grew wide, but he didn't fight against it. He grabbed the last of his stuff and left without another word spoken between you both.
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There was a party. You didn't know anyone but your best friend, but as she had gone off with her boyfriend, you were now alone, sitting on the couch, drinking liquor out of some plastic cup. You wore a red dress, made of satin, with heels that weren't too high that your ankles wanted to break but not too flat that made you appear too different from everyone else. You didn't want to be different, easy to single out. You wanted to fit in, just like everyone else. But you weren't like everyone else. That was clear the moment he saw you.
The room was crowded. You could barely see over dozens of people piled into one room. Music blaring, dim lights as one of your favorite songs started to play. People were dancing, people were drinking, having a good time like there was no tomorrow. And there he was, standing by the wall. You could see him through the small spaces between people. His eyes were glued to his phone screen for a fleeting moment, one that felt a little too long until he suddenly met eyes with you and in response, you smiled at him from across the room, while your heart jumped out of your chest and you had never felt more noticed in your life.
He approached you soon enough, breaking the awkwardness with a little joke before he sat beside you and started an easy-going conversation with you about what you did for work, what he did for work, etc. The night ended with a lightly-sober kiss between you both, where he said something so beautiful to you that you swore it was engraved into you. He said, "You are so pretty when you smile, but when it was just at me, like I was the only person in that crowded room, I knew it was you that I'm going to fall for." Five days later, after a couple of sober dates, he was your boyfriend. And for two years, you promised yourself that he was the one. Until he wasn't.
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You had a dream once, that you married Jake and had a family with him. You had a couple of dogs, ones he and the kids all named like Scout, Georgie, and Layla the 2nd. You had your dream job, as did he, and you were just so happy with him and the kids. He had built you your dream house, with a concrete pool and a beautiful backyard that the kids would run all over in with the dogs. He had always promised you that he would anything for you—build you a house, give you the family you wanted, be the husband you needed. You loved him with your entire being, and he felt the same way about you.
But it had been five years since the break up. You haven't heard from him in at least four years, and the last thing you were told, he was engaged to some new girl and was moving back to Australia after the wedding.
You had met someone else, too. You had only been dating for a few months now, nothing too serious just yet, but you were just getting used to being in a relationship again. You were taking it slow, not wanting to rush anything.
You didn't have feelings for Jake anymore. You haven't loved him in years. But there's a part of that wishes that fate would lead you back into each other's lives, single and open for a second chance. But that was never going to happen. You were never going to be the one he stares at from across the room, where you smile at him and start the love that should have lasted forever, but it never stood a chance. You had moved on, and so has he. The memories of what love gave you both lingers in your eyes, your mind, and for the rest of your life, you'll know that it just wasn't meant to be. From across the room, you'll stay, and regret ever smiling at him for he became the love of your life, just as quickly as you left him. It was over. But you were okay.
You had to be.
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A/N - sorry guys i felt like hurting feelings today mb
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snenbubs · 5 months
Note
Okay so early my Dumas was chewing on a glowstick idk why I like the crunch and my brother tells me to stop before I krill myself and I looked him dead in the eyes and bit tf out of the glowstick breaking it and green chimalcs are just coming out of my mouth,and while I was trying to clean my mouth I was wondering what if mammon had an s/o who's very playful and he'll just find them throwing those little tiny ass demons in the air or just straigh has a fucking tea party with them
(I think their called underlings)
Idk why I'm requesting this I'm just very eepy and want to chew on a glowstick anyways have an amazing day
Ps funny pictures
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HELLO!! SORRY I DIDNT RESPOND TO THIS RIGHT AWAY I NORMALLY DO I WAS SICK
also LMFAO IM CRYING I HAD TO SHOW THIS ASK TO MY FRIENDS CUZ IT WAS JUST ABSOLUTELY CRAZY, I HOPE UR OKAY PLS DONT DIGEST GLOW STICKS!!
I do absolutely love this idea though, so here u go!! I'll do HCs but if u want me to write like, a one-shot for this just leave an ask! :D
- Mammon is very playful himself, so i think thats definitely where the attraction lies between you both! He can get so serious at times, but its always easy for him to unwind when you are there, joking about and toying and laughing with him.
- You are absolutely, completely and utterly crazy but he adores it so so much.
- When the two of you first met, he thought it was an act, much like his touchy-feely friendly jester persona. He thought that you put on this entertaining personality for those around you, and it worked, clearly, as it drew him in so intently.
- SO, when he quickly found out that it wasn't an act, was he GLAD.
- You both definitely play pranks on the other sins or royals.
- Nothing too serious, it wont get you in trouble! But, a pail of water on Asmodeus' firey head is sure to get a rumble going. Honey in the pillows of Beezlebub. Just enough to have them angrily shaking their fists as the two of you giggle and laugh amonst yourselves.
- However, though he can bounce off of your playful personality well, there are moments where you catch him off guard.
- The time he caught you eating a glowstick was utterly HORRIFIC. He wasn't sure if the chemicals could hurt you the same way they did with humans on Earth, but he was NOT taking that risk.
- Que him chasing you around like a dog with chocolate.
- His underlings both love you and fear you, because how you treat them depends on your mood;
- If your happy, your playful personality will leave them joyous and replenished, a nice addition to the stressing job of serving Mammon.
- You throw tea parties for them a lot! Mammon didn't know about this for a LONG while as you mostly did it when he wasn't around, knowing his keen nature for work.
- These tea parties however aren't the fancy kind most royals would be into. The kinds that, as Mammon's partner, you're supposed to be into. No these are more like that of a mad-hatters tea party; the table is too small for you because most butler imps and hellborns are tiny. Tea is being spilt. The food is on fire. It's just absolute chaos.
- The shock on Mammon's face when he found out these things were occuring under his manors roof was something you wish you could have taken a picture of.
- But he couldn't stay angry at you.
- On the other hand, when you're upset, those poor underlings are being THROWN.
- It's not even like an accidental, in the moment thing. You just enjoy throwing them. Mammon has even bought you a few personal underlings that are specially used for throwing. He really cares about your hobbies.
- Now then... this playful personality of yours is very helpful when it comes to flustering Mammon.
- You tease him a lot, flirtatously.
- He's all bark no bite. Great at dishing out commente that'll have you flushed but so horribly bad at taking it.
- So, just one little comment; maybe mocking his accent seductively, will have him looking away all shy and meek.
- All in all, it's your playful personality that draws Mammon toward you, he loves how easy he can get along with you and how you always know how to bring a smile to his face. Being a Royal Sin is hard but knowing that you will always be there for him is what gets him through each Hellish day.
I hope you like this!!! :D feel free to leave me more reqs i rlly like them! ur my no.1 fan forreal
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ps. that picture is both really funny and horrifically scary omg 😭
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dejyn · 2 months
Note
i hope you dont mind if i get emotional for a minute…
i just. really appreciate how you portray daddy jack.
i feel like a lot of people think hes flat-out horrible with relationships and treats his partner no differently from the baker’s dozen…
seeing you acknowledge his canon sociopathic traits and villainous ways while also being actually decent if someone catches his interest is really nice…
i mean. yes. i admit part of our relationship is me seeking out as much magic for him as i could. but i like to imagine he appreciates that im going about it on my own and that i stopped expecting payment in return very early on cuz of… how much i love him.
maybe its just me loving the concept of irredeemable monsters having a soft spot, combined with the fact i hate seeing stuff with my comfort characters treating self-inserts/ocs poorly… but yeah…
tl;dr i love your portrayal 。゚(゚´ω`゚)゚。
Heheheh don’t worry I’m myself getting emotional bc of the dude all the time :’D mew
Well, I must say that I’m always trying(trrryyyyiiin) to stick to canon, but that doesn’t stop me from creating my many hcs based on my vision. And one of them is that Jack really has a soft spot, in fact I just feel so much softness in him no less than cruelty, that makes me think he’d give you such an interesting and various experience in relationships he-heh… It surely wouldn’t be the healthiest ones, but let’s leave them to reality lol I’m here to have fun with a fictional troublemaker <3
Tbh I think he can be caring and loving companion, he can be all nice and sweet to you but it’s better to keep in mind that he’s doing it mostly for his own profit/pleasure. I just cannot deny the main point of his character: he is a greedy egoist. A taker. You just have to accept it if you love him. That doesn’t exclude genuine care, though: I can easily imagine him emotionally attached to someone. But his sick obsession with magic stemming from his giant neurotic ego will prevail in the end. Sad but true. But hey, I think this is the point where we can learn how to value signs of affection from him more :> And enjoy by letting him just being himself bc we love him <3 as for the poor treatment I think you’re free to imagine what you prefer and follow your own vision, I don’t think it's such a necessary thing to experience pain of any kind from him. He’s not some maniac even with his sociopathy… He’s a troubled guy who needs help the most. I’m sure if not to irritate him or criticize or argue, he’d be ok, just love him, express your love as much as you can cuz love is about giving and enjoy^^(he’s such fluff material to me I swear lmao) I’m really really glad if my stuffs help you!♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ Thank you (´。• ᵕ •。`) ♡ (sorry if my english sucks)
(while I was thinking how to put my thoughts in short [MISSSION FAILED] I remembered this silly pic I drew some time ago, it shows my mixed and conflicting feelings abt this walking disaster, mb that's why he's so catchy to me i dunno...)
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Note
Hello!!
First, I wanted to say thanks for all the work you do, you can tell you put a lot of effort and care into it!
Second, I wanted to ask if you had any possible advice for creating black zombie characters?
I really love zombies and enjoy making zombie characters and drawing zombies. Though, I draw quite cartoonishly and when I draw them I tend to make them that cartoony shade of zombie green as well, y'know? I was wondering if you knew how I would go about this- like if I ought to maybe make the skin more on the grey-ish side(since you mentioned that grey-ish skintone bases make the characters look ashen/less-alive recently) Or perhaps sticking with a similar shade of green, but making sure to include more defining black features? I'm mostly looking for tips about appearance, but I'm happy to get any advice you're able to give!
I hardly ever see black zombies in art(I see them in movies/shows and games occasionally, but never really in art!) and I wanna help change that, if I can. Im sorry if this is a bit clumsily worded- I hope you know I do not mean this ask in a rude or disrespectful way(due to the subject matter of (un)dead characters)! I just really love zombies!!
(also I thought the mini-mini lesson about clowns was very interesting and helpful, thanks for writing it!)
ngl, getting this ask at 10 something pm last night was WILD bc I swore I turned anons off lmao.
Thank you!
Um, this really is in the same zone as the sickness question. We'd still look like Black people, but dead lmao. In varying stages of decay too, if you're discussing zombies. My partner suggested watching some clips from The Walking Dead and try to spot Black zombies amongst the extras, so there's an idea!
If you're going with the cartoony idea of making them green skinned, as long as I can tell they were Black when they were alive (unless they're damn near a skeleton) I don't see the issue. If you make everyone that's a zombie green, it'll just match the style. So that's easy enough.
But if you're going for an actual decaying look, I think it would be worth looking into stages of decay on bodies as a whole. What types of injuries do they have and how did that affect them as zombies? (For example, if a Black person got a deep cut prezombie, that cut would be healed either brown or pink depending on depth, versus a post zombie cut would just be... Bloody. Probably not bruising either bc there's no healing going on. But I'm not a doctor, so don't quote me on that. The book I tagged would likely help you, too!)
In my grad program I once saw the recently dead body of a Black lady, and what disturbed me wasn't that she "looked" dead, but that she didn't. Other than her eyes being far gone... She looked the same.
Now, this (and the sickness one too!) also ties into undertones. When we die, the blood leaves our bodies and pools wherever the gravity is. So if we're in a burial position, or we've been drained of blood, the blood will leave your face. Now, on black people, that means our undertone will be pallid. It's the way Black people "blanch"; like we as a WHOLE don't turn pale, but our undertone will change bc it's physiological. (Now, based on our complexion, it's easier to see that on some more than on others!)
Hm....that's all I can think of for right now. If anyone else has any ideas, feel free to chime in!
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azsazz · 9 months
Note
I wish we knew more about the other Vanserra brothers, SJM didn’t say much besides they are horrible people basically…do you have any HCs for them?
ugh, me too. i refuse to believe the vanserra family is that fucked up to where they never got along and they all dislike each other. i know beron has been pitting them against each other for literally centuries smh.
So, in my fictional universe, the order of the brothers is as follows: Eris, Pyrolas (Pyro), Conleth (aka Connie 🥹), Oakland (Oak), Finch & Foxe (twins, both deceased), and Lucien.
We know Eris. We love Eris.
Pyro, man what a hot head. We've discovered a little bit about him through You Know I Always Liked Playing with Fire. He's messy. Second born, second best. Never enough to live up to his older brother. Beron has pitted them against each other for the longest time. Deep down, Pyro really just wants someone to be proud of him. But he's a little twisted because he's never had love and all he's seen is the piss poor excuse of a father treating his mom like shit. Except for when he found out about Lucien and his partner. There was a flicker of guilt as he watched the twins pin Lu down while his lover perished before them all. He's so incredibly hurt that he takes it out on others, on his brothers, parents, people of the court, his partners. He wants someone to hurt as much as he hurts. He's a master at the art of façade. No one knows that he wants love because he's so good at pretending he doesn't need it and pushing people away.
Connie, my baby. Ngl I had him as deceased for a bit until that anon reminded me that he was alive. so here he is, im introducing him. Conleth is third born, middle of the pack. he's pretty docile compared to pyro, but he really does enjoy the simple of things in life. he's second mommy's boy, coming after the biggest mommy's boy of all, eris. he's lethal with a bow but those skilled hands are good at many things, like in the bedroom or in the kitchen. he can make a mean pie. i'm feeling as i write this that he's just like us and has a MAD crush on cass and az, have you seen those wings? those powerful bodies? cuz connie dreams of it (he's just like me fr). he keeping it much on the down low because of daddy Ber.
Oakland, love him. Oak is the rational one. He appears in The Autumn Chill, and he's the one that none of the brothers can ever stay mad at. He's the mediator, the strategist. He sees everything and anything and is ever-calculating. Everyone adores him, he's so sweet, but can also put on a show when he needs to, just as all of them can. In Creepy Campfire, we see his playful side, joining in on his brothers jokes because he likes it when his brothers are happy. He wants a better world for his court even though he knows that berons power probably won't fall to him after he dies, he'll stick by the brother that does and off him his intelligence.
Then there's Finch and Foxe. I can see them being like night and day or super fucking similar. cliche to say night and day, i know, but what if they were fire and wind? Foxe gives more bad boy than Finch (who will do whatever his twin asks of him) and they're trouble makers through and through. Foxe is fire while Finch is wind (appropriately named). Where Foxe sets a blazing fire Finch is there to add fuel to the flames. They back each other and aren't worried for title of heir to the throne because they know it won't happen for some time, they'll discuss it when the time nears, if it should happen. both playboys, and i bet they've even shared women between the both of them too. they give that vibe, as strange as it sounds. But, they are no longer, killed off by Lucien and Tam in the books and also in Safe Haven. They held down Lu while Beron killed his lover and they found sick delight in watching, in having a hand in it. They're both twisted as hell tbh.
And of course, Lucien. We know him and we love him too.
so yeah, i guess this is how i'd view them in my personal world 🤷🏼‍♀️😅
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brewstersbru · 5 months
Text
Im back for a bit I'm getting writers block on my wrimo; have some really bad galehalstarion (?) bloodbearweave (?)
“Goodnight darling.” Astarion purrs, pressing a gentle kiss to Gale’s forehead as he pulls away for the night. Of course, he had been chivalrous enough to clean everything up, Gale included, but not chivalrous enough to stay the night, it seems.
For the past few nights he’s been making his rounds, first to Halsin, now, Gale. Gale suspects it has something to do with their most recent encounter with the drow woman with the vampire fetish where they had both refused to order him to do anything, and instead reinforced his personhood, which, evidently, he hadn’t been anticipating.
Leaving early also likely has something to do with the fact that no one else in camp has any idea that the three of them are in any way… involved. To be fair, they’ve each got quite a bit else going on, outside of petty camp matters. Wyll has his whole complicated thing with Mizora, Karlach’s got her engine to worry about, Shadowheart with her budding religious crisis and Lae’zel with her ongoing religious crisis, after what happened at the monastery.
Which, Gale had thought that would be all the more reason to not have to be as careful as they usually were- preoccupied minds are less perceptive and all- but evidently Astarion is not of the same mind.
He leaves with a roguish grin and cheeky fingers dragging across Gale’s ankle before the tent flap closes behind him. Gale has to take another moment to himself in order to prevent any further blood circulation to unwanted areas before he can fully process what has just happened.
Falling into bed with Astarion is nothing new, really. He, Astarion, and more recently, Halsin have been tangling in the sheets for a good while. Gale can say with certainty that he knows which spots to kiss around to make Astarion flush, to make Halsin groan in contentment, and that the other two know just as much about what makes him tick.
It’s just, usually, he gets a chance to reciprocate. To funnel the pleasure that has been given to him back into his partner(s), often in excess. He enjoys the feeling, having done something- or in this case, someone- so well and thoroughly that there is no room for discontent or unease. Astarion, especially, usually revels in it. Writhes and gasps, grinning still, as he takes what he is given. Halsin always enjoys a good show.
Today, though, the vampire had entered his tent with a mission. His movements were purposeful, his voice practiced and purring as he brought Gale to the edge and over time and time again. He was not to be contented until the wizard had spent himself thrice at least. And Gale is in no way ungrateful for this gift, in fact it’s the most well fucked he thinks he’s been in a good long while. It just hadn’t really seemed like it was Astarion, that he was fucking. Rather someone with his face, attempting to act out what he thought Gale’s greatest fantasies were, in order to elicit the best reaction. To be exactly what he thought Gale needed. When all Gale has ever really needed or wanted these past few weeks was to see his lover(s) happy and sated.
He was robbed of that tonight. And Astarion had seemed pleased with himself when he looked down upon Gale and saw the pleasure he had wrought, but he had also seemed a thousand miles away. Gale doesn’t like to speculate on what might have caused that, but the thought is as horrible and inevitable as the man who caused it. Cazador.
Even just an inkling that lying with him had been, in any way, close to what Astarion had experienced with his old, cruel master, was enough to make Gale sick to his stomach. He wonders if Halsin had had a similar experience. He resolves to talk to him tomorrow, without Astarion present, just in case his theory is correct, and they need to stage an intervention.
***
Halsin is expecting him, when he ducks through the flap of the other man’s tent early the next morning. The sun has not even risen yet, but Halsin is fiddling with a knife and a small piece of wood, a pensive tilt to his eyebrows as he works. He sets his tools aside as soon as Gale makes himself known and pats the ground beside him.
“Good morning, my heart. Please, have a seat.” Gale complies, dropping a fond peck to his temple as he does so. Halsin, in turn, wraps an oak-thick arm around his waist and pulls him into his side. Gale cannot help the startled chuckle that this elicits, and smacks his arm, halfheartedly.
“Good morning, love. Stop trying to be mushy I have serious business with you this morning!” At this, Halsin pauses his tender ministrations, then shakes his head.
“First Astarion, and now you. My heart, can we not have a moment solely for the sake of joy and pleasure?”
Gale perks up at the sound of their other lover’s name. “Astarion was here?” He asks, then, realizing that this is a stupid question, amends, “I mean, he did that thing where he came in and set himself to servicing you with a- frankly, quite intense- single-minded focus? Without allowing you breath or movement enough to reciprocate?” Halsin’s head jerks in his direction and Gale knows he’s hit the nail right on the head.
“Yes…” Halsin admits, “Although it was significantly more difficult to restrain me, I would surmise.” Gale allows a short chuckle at this, nodding. Halsin smiles indulgently down at him.
“He’s quite strong, when he is fed. And I am quite weak, after being fed upon.” Halsin seems to find this rather amusing but Gale’s stomach churns a little at the thought of their lover using his nature against them like that, in order to deprive himself of their love, yes, but also Halsin of his autonomy. They definitely need to have a chat.
“We should talk to him about this, right? I disliked not being able to reciprocate.” Gale asks, tentative. Halsin has always been the more level-headed of the three of them, almost to a fault. He allows much that Gale himself wouldn’t stand for. Thankfully he nods his agreement. They decide it best to attempt to corner him the next time Tav leaves them in camp together. It’s their best shot at being anywhere close to alone anytime soon, and he won’t be able to use adventuring as an excuse to not address the problem.
In the relatively short amount of time they’ve all spent in a relationship, that’s one thing Gale’s noticed. Astarion is especially flighty when it comes to talking about his thoughts and/or feelings. They have strategies for that, thankfully. It just takes a tactful hand.
***
It’s not too long after his and Halsin’s conversation that they have the opportunity to act upon their plan.  This was to be expected, of course, given that they- save Halsin- are not incredibly physically strong, and are, in fact, quite easy to hit and maim, if cornered. That, and Halsin is a walking signal of betrayal, if Tav had taken him to Moonrise with them, their cover would be immediately blown. Of course, Gale had accounted for all of this when he’d put forth the plan.
Karlach, Wyll, Shadowheart and Tav leave together, towards Moonrise. Lae’zel takes one look at the three of them, makes a face as if she’s just smelt something rotten, and fucks off to sharpen the stash of weapons Tav has been slowly but surely building next to her tent. Everything works out perfectly; with the rest of the camp gone, and Lae’zel otherwise occupied, Halsin and Gale make a beeline toward Astarion’s tent.
The vampire is flipping leisurely through a thick tome just in front of it, settled luxuriously on top of a mess of ornate pillows as he bathes in the sunlight. As they approach, he glances up, and pastes a devilish grin over whatever expression he had been sporting previously. Gale frowns.
“Good morning, my heart! How fortuitous that we are all, as you say, ‘off the hook’ for today.” Halsin decides to greet him first, crouching down and scooping him into his arms as he speaks. Gale reaches a hand to card through his hair.
“Yes, love, we thought it only natural to pay you a visit. We’d also like to talk to you about something, if that’s alright. Could we step into your tent?” Gale is usually the one to beat around the bush, to weave his words in such a complex and convoluted way so as to confuse and disorient everyone not intimately aware of the way he usually speaks. Something about this situation unsettles him, though, puts him on edge. He feels a compulsion to get this conversation over with as soon as possible.
Halsin does not pull away from Astarion for another few seconds but he nods when they do finally separate. There’s something iron and unreadable in Astarion’s expression.
“Of course, darlings. Please.” He steps into his tent and gestures for them to follow after him. It’s just as immaculately well-kept and organized as Gale remembers it being. Now that he thinks about it, though, it’s been a while since they’ve all been in his tent. Usually they gather in Halsin’s tent, with all of the warm pelts and useful oils he has stocked. Astarion has added quite a few new books to his collection- likely from all of the abandoned houses and towers they keep rummaging through- his shelves are beginning to rival gale’s own. Gale cannot help but grin as he casts a look around.
Astarion’s sharp voice snaps him from his reverie. “So? Out with it, you’re breaking up with me. The throuple stuff was fun while it lasted but you’ve found that it’s just so much better when it’s just the two of you, right?”
His words drip like venom from his lips, biting and cold in ways he hasn’t been with the two of them for quite some time. Gale finds himself wrong-footed for a minute or so, of all the things he’d been expecting walking into Astarion’s tent, that hadn’t been one of them. Still, he can’t say it’s unfounded, he probably should have been more careful with the way he worded his invitation to talk. Thinking back on it, it had kind of sounded like a preface to a breakup. He cringes at himself and looks to Halsin for support.
The other man seems similarly taken aback, but recovers himself more quickly than Gale can. He steps forward, hand outstretched to grasp at Astarion’s shoulder, but he jerks- flinches, really, and oh doesn’t that sting- away. Halsin slowly retracts his hand, expression attempting to hide how crestfallen he truly is and failing, quite miserably. He’s always been a rather straightforward fellow.
“Astarion,” His voice is low, soft, “of course not. We love you. We wanted to talk about the other night with us.” He gestures between the two of them, “And then the night you shared with Gale, recently.” Gale nods, finally finding his voice.
“Love, no. No, he’s right, we love you so much. I- we- were just worried about how… Distant you seemed the last few times we were intimate.” Gale steps forward but keeps his distance, hoping that his eyes can convey the swirl of love and concern he feels.
Astarion bristles and holds the tension within himself for a moment before crumbling. He sighs, shakes his head and sits heavily on the nest of pillows he’s built on the floor. Halsin and Gale give him a moment, hovering, until he waves his hand for them to sit. At the signal, they rush to his side and- with another slight hesitation before laying any hands on him- nestle themselves into all of his favorite spots.
This seems to make him feel marginally better- his head is still in his hands, but his shoulders relax slightly- and that knowledge alone is enough of a comfort to relax Gale’s own shoulders.
There are another few minutes of tense, suspended silence before Astarion decides to speak again, voice quieter and less stable than ever before.
“I’m sorry… I just-“ He laughs, a little, broken thing, “hells you probably already know- but I just… You were so kind to me, about me, with the drow. I wanted to thank you properly. I wanted to show you that treating me that way would be fruitful, so that you would keep doing it.” He cringes at himself, “Now that I’m saying it out loud, it sounds so manipulative. I’m sorry. I just- I wanted to make it worth it.”
Another near minute of silence. Halsin glances over Astarion’s head over at Gale who has furrowed his brows.
“My heart… We would have done that either way. Anyone here would have. We don’t have to be sleeping with you to care about you.” Astarion shakes his head at this.
“But I liked it! I think. I didn’t need to go away from myself like I did. It felt good, and I was having fun, and, more importantly, you were having fun-“ Gale scoffs and cuts him off.
“Not more importantly, love. Never ‘more importantly’. Come now. And I don’t think it matters if it felt good, if you were so focused on making it good for us. Making sure we enjoyed it so much that you couldn’t let yourself be in the moment.” It seems impossible, but Gale presses himself closer to his lover, skating a comforting hand under his shirt and up his chest.
“Is this okay?” Astarion nods. “Words, please, love.”
He chokes out a wet, “Yes, darling.”
“Good boy. Thank you.” A long shudder works its way through Astarion at the words, but Gale knew that would happen. He’s too keyed up right now, too stressed and worried; Gale couldn’t stand it. Halsin smiles and thumbs at the juncture between his neck and jaw. Astarion hums, content, and blinks sluggishly as he leans into their hands.
“I’m sorry.” He says again, more slurred, and sluggish this time.
Halsin hushes him, moving one of his hands to his lips to dip a gentle finger in and tug at one of his fangs. Astarion’s eyes flutter.
“And we’re sorry, my heart. We should have seen the signs of this much earlier than we did. Next time, let’s just talk to each other, hm?” Both Gale and Astarion hum affirmatives at this.
Gale has climbed more fully into Astarion’s lap, setting himself to work unbuttoning his shirt as Halsin continues to thumb at his sensitive fangs. The vampire pants and drools onto his collarbone, and Gale coos at him.
“Oh, sweetheart. Halsin, let up, would you? Look at him, already half-ruined just from that.” Halsin complies, but not before a final short tug on the fang and a kiss pressed to the area right underneath Astarion’s ear. “Gorgeous.”
He whispers, as he pulls away, eliciting another heavy shudder. Gale, finally having successfully removed Astarion’s shirt, hums to himself.
“Look at you. So beautiful, and to think, you tried to deprive us of this breathtaking sight.” The words are punctuated by a short press of the wizard’s fingernail into the soft flesh of his nipple. Astarion whines high in his throat. Halsin noses at his neck.
“I-ggh- I’m sorry.” He hiccups. Gale hushes him, hand trailing through the soft white hair on his navel. “Hey, it’s okay, sweetheart. We can see you now. Isn’t that right?” Gale, himself, isn’t quite sure who he’s talking to, but both of his lovers nod fervently at the question.
“That’s right, baby. Can I get your pants? Or do you want them on this time?” This is something that happens sometimes, where Astarion will want to partake in sexual activities, without having to bare himself to them completely. Gale actually often prefers these times, because it means he gets to be creative with how he attempts to get him off. Also, being able to focus on the gorgeous look on his face as he comes… Nothing compares. Halsin, of course, prefers it all-natural, but is extremely accommodating when Astarion finds himself at a mental block. As long as his lovers are happy, he’s happy.
It seems today is one of those days, as Astarion slowly and hesitantly shakes his head, then opens his mouth around what Gale is almost certain is another apology.
“Hey.” He kisses him before he can get the chance, “That’s alright, that’s perfect. You’re perfect. You want my hand?” Astarion nods, closing his eyes and throwing his head back onto Halsin’s shoulder.
Halsin rumbles against his back and brings his own hands to his hips, guiding him in his grind against the firm pressure Gale is applying from above. Trapped from both sides, completely out of control and loving it, Astarion lets out a long and wrung out moan. Halsin grins against his neck.
“That’s it, little star. Let it wash over you. Feel our love.”
It’s coming in waves, little shocks of pleasure washing over and over themselves into a slowly building tide as he remembers that it’s Gale’s hand against him, and Halsin who is guiding his hips.
“I-hng- I love you. Ngh!” Astarion gasps, he needs them to know that he feels the same. Needs them to know he’s not just taking from them. Gale is smiling down at him, palm slowly circling the bulge in his trousers.
“We know, my love. Now, I remember how gorgeous you are when you come. Do you think you can show us, again?” It’s a question without a real answer, they all know that he can, and will. So help him, if Gale asked for the very sun in this moment, he would find a way to bottle it for him.
Astarion nods, frantic and eager to please, “I can, I can. Gale- Halsin-“ He pauses, brows knit together in concentration, evidently stuck at the crest of his orgasm. It takes Halsin mouthing against his ear and whispering, “Now, gorgeous boy.” To fully push him over.
He shakes through it, jerking in his lovers’ hold and shaking his head as wave after wave of pure ecstasy rolls through him. Gale does not stop moving his hand until he begins to shy away from overstimulation.
“Good boy.” He says, and pulls Astarion into a cuddle pile when he attempts to return the favor. “Not today, love. This was about you.”
Halsin rumbles his agreement, always slightly nonverbal after a good round in the sack, and wraps himself safely around the two of them. He presses a kiss to each of their heads before falling almost immediately asleep. He really is a bear that one; Gale can’t really blame him, though. It is getting rather cold and dark outside.
Gale makes a few gestures with his hand, imbuing magic into a few words so that Astarion’s pants dry and clean themselves. Astarion hums what sounds like a thank you against his neck and cuddles closer. Gale smiles to himself, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
That was quite a bit easier than he’d thought it’d be.
Huh.
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thewritingginger · 1 year
Text
;) Alphabet - Taiju Shiba
I’m still working on the two remaining kinktober prompts but im a bit sick rn so my energy to write is kinda low  So here's some letter headcanons in the mean time :)
Fandom: Tokyo Revengers Letters: T, A, I, J, U Warnings: 18+, Talks of sex (obviously)
Enjoy ~
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T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
Yes, he owns toys
& Yes, he uses them –mostly on his partner
He mainly uses vibrators and dildos/penetration toys
If you want to use a toy on him he has to be in the mood to
When in the mood to have a toy used on him it might be a cockring while having sex &/or getting a blow job –kinda enjoys the way it restrains his ejaculation
He also doesn’t mind if you were to use a vibrator on him during a blow job/ hand job –teasing his tip with it or pressing it against his balls while you suck his tip
But he mainly prefers using them on his partner rather than himself
He does have a pocket-pussy he might use while masturbating but not all the time, it's just a mood thing
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)
Depends on the day
I think it took some time for Taiju to get comfortable enough to be intimate in the terms of vulnerability  
In the beginning sex was fun but not a form of showing love
That level of intimacy wouldn’t come till later when he feels worthy of not only showing but receiving that kind of affection
I wouldn’t say he’s romantic but there are times when he is making love to you
In those moments he is baring himself in a way not many people get to see
“Fuck, you’re perfect.”
“I love you more than anything.”
He might play some music and light a few candles on special occasions but he feels kinda silly when he does stuff like that
Overall, he’s not very romantic in the traditional sense of the word
A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
Honestly, Tai is like a big teddy bear after sex –the rougher it was the more that is true
He likes laying there with you in his arms, either spooning or you on his chest, as you catch your breaths
Not very talkative, maybe some cooing and ‘I love you’s but other than that he’s just enjoying the afterglow of your sex 
Will listen to you talk tho as he strokes your hair &/or body
If you had sex somewhere other than your bed, such as the couch, he will carry you to bed or a shower if you want
He does make sure you’re ok and asks if he hurt you at all if he was rougher on you
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
Taiju jerks off maybe b/w 2-4 times a week (1-2 being average & 4+ being when he’s stressed or really needy and isn’t with you)
I think he kinda likes holding it in and getting amped up for when he’s with you
I can see him being into edging himself but never releasing when he or you has to be gone for work or whatever so when you’re finally back together there is no holds barred and nobody might see you guys for a day or two depending on how long you’ve been separated
If/when Taiju masturbates he would rather use a photo/video he’s taken (consensually) or you’ve sent him as his source to get off to –also wouldn’t be against a little phone sex of either you guiding him or him guiding you (or both) to orgasm
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Taiju can have a bit of a Sadistic streak in the bedroom
He on occasion enjoys overstimulating and denying you orgasms
Also can really get into dirty talk and degrading in these moments
“Does my dirty girl/boy want to cum?”
“Look at you begging for my cock. Is the toy I have inside you not good enough?”
If he’s feeling particularly playful and cruel he’ll have you sit on his cock and keep it warm for him as he works or is watching a show/movie
All the while he is groping you and whispering in your ear as you whimper for more
“What did I say about moving, Baby?”
“I know you want to bounce on my cock but you look so pretty sitting with it stuffed inside you.”
Safe to say that, if it’s the vibe, Taiju can be quite unfair and enjoys seeing you squirm from time to time
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I hope you liked that!
Feedback & Interaction is always appreciated :3
💛 ~
~ Masterlist ~
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biribaa · 2 years
Note
hi! i love ur writing sm, if you’ve seen the new tv series of dhmis may I request anything with a yandere electracey? :)
Yandere!Electracey x reader headcanons
OH MY GOD
HOLY FUCKING THE FUCKFUCK
IM SHAKING II I I WAS WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT SO MUCHTHANK YOU
Anyway im using she/they for Electracey bcuz it apparently canon? In her wiki they mention Electracey with she just like they mention Electracey with they, but the wikis are writed by fans so idk
TW/CW: Yandere behavior, gaslight, mentions of violence, drugs, stalking.
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Electracey thinks it's funny that she loves you, she prefers electric things, always has! So why do you, someone who is the complete opposite of technological electricity, attract her so much? Maybe it's like a magnet, opposites attract. So, Electracey starts to stay with you more, just to make sure what they are feeling is..."love". And they stays with you more, they stays more, more, more, and more. And as much as they had already discovered that they really loves you, they insists, they insists on having more of you.
Whether you and Electracey are already romantic partners or not, she'll convince you with all her electricity how much better she is than everyone you've ever met. They will lie, they will gaslight you, —and if none of that works— hurt those who provide you the opposite that they are all you need. After all, electricity is something everyone needs, right? No, only you need.
Don't get me wrong, manipulating you is not what she always does and always will, she also attends to you any time you call her, especially when you are sick, injured, or need a shoulder to cry on. But they are extremely competitive with this, if someone other THAN THEM comes to you and answers your call, they will immediately interrupt, trying to do extra things to show how loyal they are to you. Always you first.
Whether you are aware of the things she does or not, she always going to act like she never did all that stuff. They lied to you dozens of times? They will make you a sandwich! Did they beat someone up for you? The other day they have a smile on their face!
MAYBE! Maybe, maybe, maybe... Electracey could have put something in your food to make you sick so they would take care of you to prove how much they love you.
They love to kiss your forehead and carry you bridal style when you're too weak from the drugs they put in your food
ok but here's the thing: What if you refuse all the love and effort of Electracey? Pure. Despair. She'll try anything, ANYTHING to get you to turn your attention to her again. No no... manipulating won't work, you know everything, Electracey believes that killing those who make you think you don't depend on them will work.
"Tell me you love me! I— I did all this for you! For you only! Please, Y/N..."
Genuinely the last thing Electracey wants to do is hurt you, she wants to do the opposite! She wants to protect you, take care of you and make you feel loved! It's not her fault! It's these people's fault that separate you two!
Leave Electracey without you for 5 minutes and she will look for you in pure desperation.
If you're spending more time with someone else, Electracey will watch you from afar to learn what makes you want to spend more time with that person so you can spend more time with her too.
Electracey will always be calm and patient when she will question you about why you were with those people instead of her, she wants to prevent as much as possible from scaring you or making you uncomfortable. But if Electracey's patience runs out, they won't be able to hold back and will yell at you and make their questions look like a police interrogation. After noticing how scary they look, Electracey will immediately apologize, and with that you won free cuddles :))
"Don't make that face at me. Smile, honey! I haven't done anything yet."
Srry if it don't have many headcanons, idk if Im having a writer block rn, but I hope u enjoyed :]]]
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