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#the writing is garbage
edains · 3 months
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Rick Riordan constantly trashing the movies for not sticking to his books then releasing a show in which he rewrites everything and loses the spirit of the books entirely
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forlix · 7 months
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𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・572 / 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・felix x gn!reader / 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲(𝘀)・fluff, established relationship, lots of kisses hehe, slightly suggestive
“See you tonight, angel,” Felix says, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. It’s chaste, short, familiar; your favorite form of farewell, exchanged inevitably before you part ways, even for only a few hours.
But this time, Felix doesn’t pull away afterwards, instead remaining so close to you that the tip of his nose is almost brushing yours, and there’s an ineffable glint in his eyes when he speaks again. (You should’ve known you were in danger.)
“Hang on,” he murmurs, his voice low and sweet, and then he leans in again.
When he presses his lips to yours the second time, he moves with an intensity that you aren’t prepared for. You feel his fingers slide over the nape of your neck and tangle gently in your hair; your head tilts backwards from the weight of his kiss, his tongue feather-light against the seam of your lips, his mouth laving over yours as tenderly as if he’s trying to drink you, savor you. Dimly, you feel your waist bump against the kitchen counter, and Felix doesn’t even think when he moves a hand protectively to the small of your back, returning you to your rightful place against his chest.
You are breathless and lightheaded when your boyfriend breaks the kiss, his lips flushed and hair messy, looking like a walking dream.
“S'that a new lip balm flavor?” He asks.
Bastard.
You collect yourself just enough to give him an answer, but it sounds more like a blissful sigh than a spoken response: “Strawberry.”
The smile that crosses Felix’s face is mostly bashful, but you don’t miss the self-satisfied huff of laughter that comes with it.
“I like it,” he hums. “A lot.”
And he kisses you one more time, and then another.
He ends up being late to practice that day, his rushed apologies to Minho falling out of strawberry-tinted lips.
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𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other works here. thanks so much for the support ♡
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© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.
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onewingeddove444 · 10 months
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★How the bachelors would react if they accidentally made you cry
word count: 1.1k
Alex:
-would probably not even notice you're crying at first
-his expression would change so quickly
-😀😦
-kind of knew he had it coming though, since a lot of the stuff that flies out of his mouth is....well😇
-would IMMEDIATELY start taking the blame, saying things like "nahhh i didn't actually mean that i lied haha no idea why i said that i'm so stupid" ((starts blaming it on his hormones being affected by working out or something😭😭))
-hesitates at first, but pulls you into the tightest embrace you've ever felt ngl probably hurts a little lol
-his way of apologising to you is saying "you can punch me as hard as you want, i deserve it!!!!"
-starts treating you like royalty for another month, to the point where it becomes annoying
-every time you bring it up, even as a joke, he basically drops to his knees and starts apologising all over again
Elliott:
-if you thought this man was already dramatic as it is....lord🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️
-would try to be cool about it, while in his head he's already pressing a dagger to his neck, saying that he has now betrayed his heart and doesn't want to go on any longer
-the moment he sees tears flowing down your face, the only word able to come out of his mouth is a soft "no, no, no..."
-he'd probably start crying with you😭😭😭
-starts whispering the most loving and kind things about yourself into your ear
-literally compares you to the most breathtaking images you could ever envision
-alternative scenario, where he just drops to the floor and starts begging for your forgiveness, even though what he said wasn't really that bad
-after that, he checks up on you every 5 minutes, to make sure you're not upset with him
-would swear on his life and soul to never hurt you again ((mind you it was never that serious😭))
-writes you so many short poems...atp they just become a whole book
Harvey:
-man....😭
-probably hurts him more than it does you lmao
-you crying would be too much for him already...but crying because of him?? ouuu
-is ready to completely retract what he said, even if he's absolutely right, that just doesn't matter to him anymore
-he just stands there for a good amount of time, since he really doesn't know how to deal with these kinds of emotions
-this might just be the first time this man has made someone cry because...let's be fr☠️
-would do that thing where he cups your cheeks and wipes your tears with his thumbs ((after that he's kinda clueless though😭))
-this literally being his worst nightmare...in his eyes hurting you is the equivalent of failing as a partner...and he's not really allowed to fail too often🙁
-would wait 30 years until you're not upset with him ((it takes you exactly 1 minute btw)), and after that it's flowers delivered to your doorstep every day of the week
-even if it were to be a one-time occurrence, he would NEVER EVER forget it, and he would always justify spoiling you with it ((using the 4 cents he makes from the clinic👎))
Sam:
-he is not that smart when it comes to verbalising thoughts please forgive him
-says things like "aw man you're crying😔😔😔😭😭“
-if he's holding a drink or eating something, he offers it to you, even if there's a single bite/sip left of it
-refuses to smile until he's 100% sure you've forgiven him, otherwise he just looks like this: :--(
-low-key fighting for his life not to pull out his phone and google "how to comfort crying person wikihow"
-once you tell him that it's okay between you two bro gets jolly, running around in circles, giggling, twirling his hair and laying down kicking his feet up
-the thing he did that upset you could've been minor, but that still doesn't stop him from saying "man...😔🤦 i'm so glad this chapter is behind us now.." like okay???😭😭😭 ((bonus points if he describes this as a "rough patch" in your relationship))
-tries making something for you after, fails miserably, resorts to showing you cool skateboard tricks he learned off of youtube
-learns his lesson and actually thinks more before he says something ((to the best of his ability))
-promises to write a song about your love and go platinum ((shows it to sebastian and gets banned from writing lyrics for the band forever))
Sebastian:
-freezes immediately
-literally unable to get a single word out, what is he supposed to do in his situation😭
-manages to whisper "i didn't mean..." and proceeds to go quiet after that
-he's been living a sheltered life for a very long time, so he's really scared that whatever he says it will only hurt you even more
-you can definitely see his expression change...not only does it soften but he looks UPSET upset, mostly with himself
-pulls you into a hug, hoping that it'll help a little bit ((it does, bro seems like a good hugger))
-asks you if there's anything he can do to cheer you up, and let me tell you he'd really do anything
-does not let you go for the rest of the day, having his arm wrapped around you, holding your hand, even if it's just the pinky fingers touching
-you have to keep reassuring him that it's okay now, he literally hits you with the "are you sure you're not mad at me?" every 3 seconds just to make sure you guys are good🙏
-lets you touch whatever you want in his room, i'm talking elementary school pictures, old sketchbooks, it's all yours, no matter how humiliating
Shane:
-um...uh😭🙅‍♀️
-yeah he is PISSED he's made you cry, he might've been mean when he first saw you, but now??? that is just not allowed in his mind idc
-jumps to self-deprecation immediately, talking about how he's an asshole, how he always fucks things up (🙁)
-just takes the whole blame on himself, no problem with that
-kind of saw this happening in the nearest future, that man does not have a very good opinion of himself let's be honest😭
-you could tell him you forgive him and he'd be like "nah don't do that wtf i don't deserve it😔"
-doesn't try comforting you at first, since he just assumes that you might never want to see him again
-but after the dust settles he reassures you that he's going to do everything to make sure this doesn't happen again
-sends you musty frozen pizza in the mail in retaliation (sigh🙁)
-would love to pretend this never happened, but making you cry really took a hit on his self-esteem, however it also made him think about how to be the best partner you can have
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blueskittlesart · 2 months
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at a certain point i think we need to acknowledge that art is very rarely created accidentally. if you can see a theme in a work than that theme was, more likely than not, at least somewhat intentional on behalf of the creator. you don't put a piece of yourself out into the world without thinking about what it means at least a little bit.
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bigoltrashpile · 6 months
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What if their s/o just yelled "Come here, pretty boy!!" before grabbing the sides of their face and covering them with kisses
THAT'S SO CUTE FUCK YEAH!!!
Mafiatale Sans: You've never seen Sans so blue! He's going to be stupidly flustered, both from the kisses and the nickname. He'll try his best to play it off, make a stupid pun, but you can very clearly see the effect you had on him. He's going to be blue for several minutes.
Mafiatale Papyrus: This is a dream come true!!! He's wanted to wake up to a shower of kisses, but this is better than he ever could have expected!!! Getting countless kisses from his loved one, and getting called pretty??? You can guarantee that he's going to repay the favor once you're done!
Mafiaswap Sans (Lucky): He's heard a lot of flattery in his life, but pretty boy is new! The only thing more unexpected than that is you immediately covering his entire face in kisses. He'll laugh and blush until you're done. You should be honored, it takes a lot to fluster him! Don't worry though, he'll make sure you're equally flustered later~
Mafiaswap Papyrus (Slim): Poor Slim is practically going to shut down. He has no idea what's going on, why are you kissing him so much? Because you love him?? What is this madness??? He's not going to recover for at least an hour, but the good news is that now you know a foolproof way to see his adorable blush!
Mafiafell Sans (Butch): Like Lucky, he's been called a lot of names, but never this one. He...kind of likes it! Or that could just be the countless kisses. Either way, he's going to melt, loving all the attention. As soon as you're done though, he's going to go crazy trying to make you feel just as good~
Mafiafell Papyrus (Noir): Pretty? Him??? Wrong, he is great and terrible and very handsome! Wait, he didn't say to stop! He's going to relish in every single kiss you give him, he never thought he would ever have a partner as wonderful and sweet as you!
Mafiaswapfell Sans (Scar): He'll freeze for a moment. For a second, he thought you were attacking him. Which, you kind of are. Attacking him with love! As soon as he realizes what's happening, he's going to melt into your arms, but refuses to admit how much he loves your treatment. How did he ever manage to find someone as perfect as you?
Mafiaswapfell Papyrus (Hound): Pretty boy? He's your pretty boy?? Fuck yeah!!! He'll laugh a bit and happily accept the kisses, but I hope you're not wanting to go anywhere anytime soon. If you treat him so nicely, he's going to want to hold you for at least an hour. Get comfortable, angel!
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hyewka · 1 year
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dude sub!beomgyu is so hot. but you know what's hotter? bratty, possessive sub!gyu. maybe i'm biased cuz i like my men like that but likeeeee
wanna overstimulate him so bad until he's crying and whining for more 😵‍💫😵‍💫 n he probably acts like a bitch at the start, acting all confident and dominant.. yet the second you start fucking him he just folds :(
literally pushing my obsessive sub gyu agenda on everyone but he'd probably fuck you after seeing you getting all close with someone else as a way to show dominance 😵‍💫 gyu seems like the type who'd overstim himself inside of you too, moaning shit like "you're mine" as he chokes on his sobs.. might as well flip him over and let him know he belongs to you only :))
anyways i'm kinda hungry 😍
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warnings; sub!yandere-ish beomgyu, cockwarming, mentions of overstim? hair pulling, reader’s equally obsessive sorta, not proofread
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You twist your sore wrist, trying to relieve the pain Beomgyu you think, or at least hope, had unintentionally inflicted. But with the way he's been increasingly needy the more time you had spent shopping, the more you're sure it was far from an accident.
So it was no surprise how fast he got you on the bed when you finally went back home.
“You’re so mean to me.” he mutters in the crook of your neck, breath hot against your skin. Beomgyu has you pinned under him, his hold unforgiving, pressing down on your body. “You do it on purpose. Make me so fucking crazy, I hate it.”
You flutter your eyes shut when his lips make contact with your sensitive flesh, the slight nip making you breathe heavier. “Beomgyu.” you try warning, to stop him from going further, but it only spurs him on.
Earlier, you stumbled upon Jeongin-- your old highschool friend, while window shopping with Beomgyu by your side. Naturally, you'd want to catch up as you haven't seen him since the last highschool reunion which was two years ago. The longer you spent enthusiastically talking, the more you felt Beomgyu's fingertip dig into your wrist.
You figured he was jealous, and when Beomgyu was jealous, he was different in the sense that he needed reassurance. A lot of it.
When he starts sucking harshly, marking all over your neck down to your collarbones, hips increasingly grinding against your clothed core, his grunts ceasing to be an act slipping his neediness against your skin, you run up your hand to the back of his head grabbing a fistful— you were always fine with his desperation to give you hickeys whenever he felt insecure, laying pliant and letting him cover you with varying purple splotches but the drawn line was always him fucking you.
And that was exactly what he was trying to do, whore.
You yank his head back and the horny dog has no shame letting the blush creep up his cheeks even when he hisses out a curse. “Who gave you the right to grind against me?”
“What? I can’t try to fuck my girlfriend but you can go around whoring with—"
He shrieks when you pull his hair again, his scalp burning, tears already brimming on his waterline. “You have such a filthy mouth pup, I ought to put it to better use, no?”
His eyes still have the audacity to look down at you. You sneer, a soft scoff escaping your lips. Beomgyu has always been one to try and dom during sex, which you wouldn’t mind if it weren’t for the fact that you knew the poor boy was weak after a single twist to his bud.
After a few beats of silence, you decide to pull him down for a quick kiss, a mix of saliva and tongue, before you abruptly stop reciprocating and Beomgyus left whimpering against your lips urging you to continue. You put your hand on his chest, getting him to reluctantly pull away. “No. You have to fix your attitude first.”
He shakes his head, “You’re the one whos been talking about Jungwoon or whatever his name is—"
“Jeongin.”
“I don’t care! You couldn’t shut up about him the entire way here! I hate it. It feels like he could sweep you off your feet when I’m not paying attention and then—and then you’ll…” his assertive demeanor cracks in a flash, his face flushed, lower lip quivering up into a pout, “You’ll leave me and, and—“
You don’t let him finish, flicking his forehead to which his hand immediately fly up to rub as if you just smacked it. “Ouch? What was that for?”
“You’re such a dumb boy.” You say shaking your head. “I mentioned Jeongin once. Once during our way here because you seemed so bothered by how we knew each other.”
You weren’t lying, proven by the way Beomgyu tries to counter your point, but closes his mouth after nothing comes out. A sly smile, and your hands already sneakily sliding up his loose hoodie, thumb finding their way to graze his already hard nipples, “Baby boy got stupid jealous just because I talked to a guy, huh?”
His arms that were holding him up, pinned next to both sides of your body had started to tremble. So fast, it was almost comical.
“Shut up. He wasn’t just some guy. He was totally into you.”
You rub his bud in circles, cooing at how his hair falls over his face, as he tries to gain composure. “Really? You thought he was checking me out too?” you tease, making sure to catch him off guard with a random pinch.
His body jerks, a strained exhale leaving his lips before hes too weak to keep himself up anymore, head falling to bury itself in the crook of your neck, getting you to feel his bulge against your thigh. He was already giving up.
“Stooop.” he whines, continuing to rub his crotch on your inner thigh. “You’re so mean to me.”
You decide to give it up, instead twirling a strand of his soft hair as he gets more and more feverish against your leg. “N-no more teasing. Have to be inside you.” he finally breathes out, a call of desperation, so needy Beomgyu was.
Beomgyu who’s too impatient to fully take off your skirt, only pulling them up before he bunches up your panties to the side, his tip barely protruding your entrance before he pushes in his red dick in, so inexperienced and stupid, shuddering as he keeps his cock buried.
“You have to move pup.” you instruct lightly, trying to fuck yourself on his dick, but it proves impossible as Beomgyu shakes his head adamantly.
His breathing is heavy, dumb mind already filled with esctasy, head finding comfort in the warmth of your shoulder, cock drilled so deep inside he might go insane with your warmth, “Wanna stay in here forever."
“And ever.” he sighs, sucking on your abused hickeys again. “So you’ll never leave.”
It should’ve been concerning, a red flag to look back on but what happens if you feel the same way? Having him only be by your side.
Beomgyu who finally starts moving, ever so slightly, moaning with each small sharp snap into you. It takes you by complete shock when his pace goes a complete 180, Beomgyu becoming crazed, his thrusts quickly becoming sharp and erratic, so similar to his humping earlier with no particular rhythm, hammering into you, each love proclamation as tears waste no time to stain his cheeks, body shuddering with his head feeling light, drool trickling down under his chin, “Mine, mine, mine. Jeongin can’t have you like this. You’re mine.”
His body presses against yours, leaving no room for breathing, kissing you so roughly, yet his soft lips are a contrast, “I only belong to you. Nobody else—ha!”
His hips stagger, lanky body once looming over you so weak and frail. “N-no! Am cumming, cumming—“ he babbles so loudly, the sight so beautiful, his lashes more pronounced with the wetness of his tears. He belongs to you, he’s right. Just pressing against where his nipples are gets him to cum prematurely. You smirk feeling smug, even when simply the sound of his cute moans has you weak. You feel his hot load shoot inside you, bad boy.
He tries to catch his breath, clearly dumb fucked, chest heaving, as he falls to your side on the bed. You don’t let the boy get away so easily after not even making sure you finished.
The terrified look in his eyes as you swiftly get on top of him, switching positions was enough for you to know that this was going to be a long fucking night.
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illuminatedferret · 3 months
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Rereading the start of Book 2 is fucking fascinating because 1. how Mu Qing is treated by everyone but Xie Lian boils my blood, but also 2. I cannot believe there are people who think Xie Lian is naive and ignorant of the world after reading what he says and thinks during those first few chapters alone. He is so persistently considerate and sensitive to power imbalances and the abuse of power even before he """stops being naive""".
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there are two moods reading something you wrote months ago:
this is garbage
i am a GODDESS
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writeouswriter · 1 year
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One man’s trash (my fic at 2AM after I’ve reread it so many times I’ve become sick of and disillusioned by it) is another man’s treasure (my fic a few days later when I’m looking at it with fresh eyes and realizing it’s actually not that bad, perhaps even pretty good).
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sidneycrobsy · 1 month
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hughes 🔛🔝
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thecleverqueer · 8 months
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Friendly reminder:
Ahsoka is in her forties.
She’s tired.
She has to go to bed before 11PM or she feels hung over even though she drank nothing.
She has random joint pains.
She feels weather.
She needs readers, but she’s in denial about it.
She has zero tolerance for anyone’s bullshit.
She is easily annoyed by said bullshit.
She’s no longer 16.
She’s no longer “snips”.
No one in their forties acts like they did in their teens. They’re not even the same person they were in their thirties.
She’s sage. She’s old. She’s going to act old. It’s okay. It happens.
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darby-derby · 3 months
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When I say that I love Speedwagon I don’t mean I love him for the memes, I mean I fucking LOVE Speedwagon. I mean that if that scruffy little man showed up on my doorstep with his goofy accent and stolen hat I would take him into my home and feed him porridge. I fucking love Robert Edward O. Speedwagon. Absolute icon.
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willowser · 9 months
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touya + eggplant ; 3.2k ੈ‧₊˚ for our meet fruit collab ! ‧₊˚✧ ₊˚
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touya's message comes across in the early afternoon, when you know he should be working.
the image that comes to mind is — hilariously sweet: him in ill-fitting trousers and freshly combed hair, leaning too far into some desk as he fiddles with his phone. biting his lip, most likely, running the very tip of his tongue across the hole his piercing left behind; amused.
it'd be even better, you think, if he wasn't sending you three eggplant emojis and nothing else.
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it's bold, and startlingly so. enough that your heart rate skyrockets and sweat forms instantly on the back of your neck, in the creases of your palms, as you overanalyze three cartoon vegetables harder than you ever have in your life. you could easily believe he's sending this as a drunken joke, but he's been stone-cold sober since he was released, and if that had changed, even in the slightest, yumi would have told you.
you type out four different variations of the same question — asking what the hell that's supposed to mean — before sending none of them. are you...being a weirdo? eggplant emojis are inherently sexual, right? and maybe touya's been away for a while, but surely he would know that. right? in a single, wordless text, he's managed to make you sixteen again; too young to be crushing on your best friend's older brother.
— though you think of him now as he was only days ago: eyes clear and focused, razor sharp and set on you from across the todoroki living room. the very memory makes your stomach churn, violently; just a kid that should be worrying about their studies, and not about a boy that wouldn't give you the time of day.
before your thoughts can get themselves any more scrambled, another text follows suit:
yumi wants to know if u wanna come for dinner
eggplant, you tell yourself, as in the actual food that people eat. the actual vegetable, and not the dickish inquiry you thought it was. you do your best to ignore the little wave of disappointment that washes over you, and then the following crash once you realize that you wouldn't actually mind if he was asking after what you thought he was asking after; you, carnally.
you collect yourself enough to send him a normal, not weird text in response confirming that you'll be there, and his thumbs up comes across almost instantly. as if he'd been waiting for you.
touya was always in and out of their house when you and fuyumi were in school, but you caught him every now and then when things were good. safe at home, doing his best to hold down a job and stay out of trouble, soaking up a warmth from his family he never got as a kid, when their dad was around. how couldn't you have developed such a crush on him? to see him happy and whole, more dangerous than anyone expected, mysterious in a way that excited your teen heart — and kissing up to his mother at the dinner table?
you're not delusional enough to think he ever noticed you or your big goo-goo eyes, but sometimes he would stick his head into his sister's room, to grin and wiggle his eyebrows at you, before getting pelted in the head with a stuffed animal and chased away. it earned a high-pitched laugh from him, more of a game than anything sincere, but you still thought of him while staring at the ceiling in your own bedroom, wishing.
in all the time he was away — in rehab or jail or who-knows-where — you thought you'd outgrown your juvenile infatuation, but — here you are, still, with fevered cheeks at the very thought of him.
here you are, still, taking care to choose your clothes for dinner, as if it were only going to be you and him. fussing with your hair for far too long, as if he would notice. making little crescents with your nails into your palm outside the door to the todoroki house, as if you haven't been here thousands of times.
you've seen him since he's been home, of course, in the last few months, but there's been this weird aura surrounding you both, worse than it was when you were younger. you're tip-toeing around each other and you both know you're tip-toeing, and he's always wearing his little smug smile and looking too long. it's hard to be around him, really. a little easier to text, but every winky face he sends only winds you up even further.
when the front door swings open, you hold your breath unintentionally, neck straining until you realize —
it's only shouto.
"hi!" you say, trying not to sound as winded as you feel, though shouto — as usual — is unimpressed.
he blinks at you, two-toned, and almost rolls his eyes like the rotten teenager he's capable of being, attitude too much like touya's. there's a little doughy dumpling in his hand and he turns away from you while using it to wave further into the house. "she's in the kitchen."
fuyumi, even though you didn't ask. you follow him in and stick your tongue out at the back of his head, before going off to find your best friend — who is, indeed, in the kitchen, surrounded by bowls and utensils and too many real, actual eggplants.
"what did you do?" you ask upon seeing her treasure trove of purple veggies on the counter. "rob a farmer?"
there's really an absurd amount of them, though she doesn't look up from cutting one into little rangiri pieces. "no, actually, they were on sale at the farmer's market!"
you eye one closest to you before poking at it, oblong in shape and — kind of ugly. it feels odd in your hand when you pick it up, but that's probably because you're hyper-aware of every sound in the background of the house, of the burning embarrassment tucked away in your pocket in the form of touya's three emojis. shamefully, your thoughts take a dark turn, and when fuyumi finally glances up, you toss the vegetable back onto the counter too fast.
she snorts and shakes her head, pushing up her glasses with the back of her hand before pointing at the little steamer basket of dumplings near the stove. "try one! before shouto and natsuo eat them all."
you consider it for a moment before weighing just how much eggplant it seems you're going to consume tonight, and decide to wait until after dinner, if they're still there. along with her veggies, she's got a little tub of red miso out and also some pork frying in a pan, as well as too many bowls in the sink already. though you admire her passion for cooking, you know she'll wait to clean until everything is plated, and no one else will help her, so you take to starting on the dishes instead.
the frown she sends you can be felt, but you've been in this kitchen long enough that you think she should just give it up.
there's such comfort to being in here, with her, maybe because you really have done it so many times by now; the water is warm as it runs over your hands, sending little goosebumps up your arms, and you nod your head absentmindedly to the sound of her knife against the cutting board. you absorb the heat from everywhere quickly, and when you begin to smell the garlic and ginger cooking, you feel like a warm, doughy little dumping yourself.
you get lost in it with her and all the tension from the day melts, dissolves completely when you can lightly hear fuyumi humming over her sizzling pan. she tells you about some other things she bought at the market, gossip about a mutual friend you both have, she asks about the shirt you're wearing and why she's never seen it before, and you're rinsing your hands of dish soap when you hear her squeal—
"ah! get out!"
when you peek over your shoulder, you can see touya there, leaning too far over her own, smiling with full cheeks as he investigates what she's cooking. half of a little dumpling is in his hand and he looks down at it, makes a face before turning it over, and then he places it right back in the steamer.
"ew, gross!" fuyumi nudges him away with her elbow before plucking it right back out, trying to hand it back off to him. "nobody wants your half-eaten food."
and then, much to your horror, right in front of his sister — touya's eyes cut across the kitchen to you. one corner of his mouth quirks up in his little smirk and then you're whipping back around to look down in the sink, despite it being empty. his stare can be felt, too. you wonder if it's a todoroki thing.
"ew," fuyumi mumbles. you feel like you've been caught in some kind of way, though you don't doubt she clocked your affections for her older brother the minute they developed.
it's not something she's ever spoken directly to you about, however, which you're grateful for. you don't know how you would be able to handle that discussion, but she's always made sure to pass off the odd and unprompted little updates about touya over the years.
when he speaks again, it's clear his mouth is full. "shouto said he's not settin' the table."
"okay, then you go do it."
"no," touya snorts, "he's the youngest, that ain't fair."
"and you're the oldest, so you can ask him to do it."
"he doesn't listen to me and you know—"
"alright!" fuyumi sighs, and when you peek back at them, she's shoving her knife into his hands and shaking her head to herself, before stalking out of the kitchen.
you unravel out of your little dumpling warmth immediately, though your goosebumps return in full force. touya grins at you, happily, and tosses the kitchen knife in his hands in a way that looks too proficient, too dangerous for what it is. your teen heart thumps loudly in your ears, charmed and enamored by his tragic mystery.
— and then you take in his still-pristine work outfit, openly, now that he's watching you; slacks a little slouchy on his narrow hips, white shirt buttoned up to his neck. the tattoo there is covered up by bandages on purpose, and though he means to simply hide them from view, it only sharpens all his edges.
the small pink, hello-kitty band-aid on his cheek helps, too, in a cutesy way. makes you all too aware of how much has changed over the years. how much he's changed, all the work he's had to do, the dues he's had to pay. your heart swell stubbornly, seriously, and you try to shake it away.
your voice starts out small, embarrassingly enough. "you look nice in your fancy office clothes."
touya's hand slip into his pocket and he rocks back and forth on his heels once, pleased, before looking down at his loose tie. "think so? you like a white-collar man?"
you look back to the sink, shy. it pulls him in; a moth to the flame of your hesitance, and it's not a moment later that he's leaning up against the counter beside you, watching your heated face carefully. the knife at his side gleams in the kitchen light and — you're not afraid of him, couldn't be, but you wonder if anyone else has ever been.
the truth of what landed him in trouble with the law is unknown to you, the one thing fuyumi never shared, and you can't help but to be curious as to why. you're practically family at this point and it's not as if you could ever look down on them, ever, and while you couldn't possibly understand the horror they went through with their father — you can sympathize with the fact that it wasn't easy. that he left scars they'll always nurse.
touya's always been so out of your reach, despite being just down the hall. blame it on time or the slight age difference or your relationship with his sister; it's hard to hope that he could be here, at your side, truly. finally.
instead of answering, you simply turn so that you're facing him, hip leaned against the counter, and the bright eyes he has on your cheeks are almost impossible to be at the mercy of. even worse when his smile grows, boyish-ly cute.
"what, coming on too strong?" he asks, laughing quietly when you put on a brave face and roll your eyes. "figured the emojis would'a opened the door a little."
your cheeks flame, and you press your hands into them to tide back your smile at how — flirty he is. the step back you take doesn't go unnoticed. "i couldn't even believe what i was seeing when you sent those."
"oh, yeah?" the tone of his voice changes then, shifts a bit lower. if you weren't tracking his eyes as they shift down to your mouth, burning a little brighter, you might've though you'd upset him or said the wrong thing. "what'd you think i meant?"
you glance away from him, directly at the ugly eggplant you'd been fiddling with earlier, and the dark thoughts return. when you don't answer right away, he reaches over to flip on the tap, running the knife blade underneath the stream as you map the wide expanse of his hands, the length of his fingers. small, translucent scars litter his knuckles.
"i don't know," you lie, and then it seems like you have said the wrong thing, this time; touya turns a little, placing all his attention in the dish soap and the sponge you'd left out to dry.
you are sixteen, speechless, nervous by his proximity—
"you seein' anyone right now?"
—but this is not the same boy that left you behind.
you have to laugh in order to keep yourself rooted to your spot, here on earth in the todoroki kitchen, and it brings his attention right back to you. "uh," you say, lamely, "what?"
it makes him laugh, too, all your sputtering. "yeah, c'mon. i mean, i know i'm fucked in the head, but," and then he really laughs, open-mouthed, showing off the piercing still in his tongue. "i'm workin' on it, and stuff. renewed and reformed, or whatever."
"hang on," you shake your head quickly, frowning at him as you replay the words over and over; his self-deprecation is so genuine that you almost missed it. "i don't think you're...fucked in the head."
"well, that makes one of us—"
"no, touya, i'm serious," the step closer you take has him looking away, down into the empty sink; hilariously, a mirror of yourself that you never could have imagined seeing. it does strange things to your heart, your stomach, and your nerves. makes you bolder than you really are. "i've never thought that."
he doesn't say anything for long time, choosing to watch droplets of water as they fall from the faucet. his jaw works in the silence, like he's chewing the inside skin of his cheek, like he's thinking too hard.
and then he says, quietly, "i know." he continues without looking at you, sensing the confusion on your face. "i know you never did, 's'why i couldn't..."
you blink, lost suddenly in the meaning of his words and their whirlwind. you think back to all the times he grinned at you from fuyumi's doorway, how uninterested he seemed in you from across the dinner table, his silence on the rare occasions you were alone together.
you've known touya since you were fourteen and he was fifteen. you remember when their parent's got divorced and when touya got his license and when he got locked up, the first time. you've known him through so many of his bad moments and it never dimmed the little stars you had in your eyes for him, and you once thought that was a bad thing, that it would only lead to heartbreak time and time again from him. you once thought it was something only you and fuyumi knew about.
"i am tryin' now," he continues with a sigh, a little winded. "seriously. got this shitty job and am goin' to my meetings. not as big of a piece of shit." when you start to object, he shakes his head and holds up a hand to stop you from arguing. "i know, i just mean...you wanna white-collar guy, i'm a white-collar guy."
you feel shy again, especially as the high points of his cheek flush pink. boyish-ly cute. "so that's why you sent me three eggplant emojis instead of just asking me to come eat dinner?"
touya snorts. "yeah, like i said, i'm workin' on it."
"no, i..." it feels wrong to admit anything to him like this, so close as his grin grows on his handsome face, dimples showing. you've been thinking about moments like this for years, but now that it's here, you feel a little dizzy, looking into his bright eyes. "i like the eggplant emoji." you step away from him for just a moment, to grab his half-eaten dumpling, and his expression grows serious — a little dark — as you nibble on it. "i like the way you...do things."
his smile grows knife-sharp, something he's too good at wielding. "well, in that case—"
"can i come in yet? our dinner is about to burn."
you both whip around to take in fuyumi, hovering at the edges of the kitchen with her arms crossed. watching on, her cheeks tinged pink, too. you try to step away, embarrassed and caught, but touya only leans in, knocking his hip to yours.
fuyumi rolls her eyes at him, but the small smile she sends you has you wanting to be swallowed up by the floor; this isn't a discussion you've ever had to have with her, but now — it's inevitable.
you suppose you can't complain too much.
"okay, you had your moment, now get out," she sticks her tongue out at touya before shooing him away, making a small noise when he pinches your elbow teasingly. it makes him laugh when she swats at him, and he only holds up his hands and tries to drop all his weight back on her as she steers him out of the kitchen.
you fish the knife out of the sink and return to cutting another eggplant once she's back and stirring in her leeks and little miso mixture. the moment is tense between you to begin with — but then she's humming quietly under her breath and knocking her hip into yours, too, tucking you back into the comfort of this house you've always been in. this family you've always loved.
"you know," she murmurs eventually, rolling her eyes with another smile when you glance up at her face. one of the eggplants is weighed in her hands, and even she frowns down at it, before shaking it at you in a way that makes you both laugh. "he made me buy these, by the way."
—tucking you back into the comfort of this family that has, maybe, always loved you, too.
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mister13eyond · 4 months
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dont normally post about drama but this seems relevant:
im seeing a lot of people jump to "james somerton was never good anyways" in retaliation for the hbomb expose, but there's a really fine line to tread there before you get into stepping on the toes of the people he stole from, you know?
some of his videos and analysis did seem genuinely intelligent, thoughtful, insightful, and well-written. yeah, it turns out those are the result of him stealing from other people. but that doesnt mean the original writers WEREN'T intelligent, thoughtful, insightful and good writers. he had plenty of garbage opinions interspersed throughout, but the reason many people (myself included) were suckered in by him is that the queer creators he stole from DID have really important and interesting analysis. the parts of his videos that were good were stolen, but by discounting his essays entirely we're throwing the baby out with the bathwater and insisting those he stole from didn't have anything important to say.
the parts he himself supplied were trash, but he stole the work of some genuinely brilliant and insightful writers and passed it off as his own- and that writing still exists and is still brilliant and insightful; we just know now who was actually responsible for it and who to thank for that work
lets just be careful when we smugly proclaim that we always hated everything he had to say- because a lot of the words we're discounting were never his to begin with, and the last thing those authors need is to have their work trash talked because it ended up in the mouth of someone dishonest
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belong (nsfw)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Sumarry: Lucifer is always so very gentle with you.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
A/N: Inspired by this fic, but I made it dark. Sorry? TW: non-con TAGS: #bathtub sex #aftercare #implied sexual content #non-explicit sex #post-coital cuddling #implied/referenced dubious consent #soul selling #pondering the nature of free will and soul contracts #sort of psychological thriller vibes but not really #dubious consent #deal with a devil #love bites #implied rough sex #light praise kink
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
taglist: @opheliauniverse @zephyr-is-tired @dumbasslesbi @bychrissi @scream-queenlover @muffintopxs @bigolgay @gwenslucifer @weemswife @yourhauntedhead @carnivorousflowers @softshrimpy @willowshadenox @syrenacrainn @weemssapphic @dianneking @imprincipalweemspet @kimiinou @ninelesbien @i-love-nerdy-stuff @eveymay @myzzjolanda @pluied-ete @brienneswife @gwenzone @principal-weems09 @inlovewithalcinadimitrescu @gela123 @emilynissangtr @gwendolinechristieiscute @h-doodles @winterfireblond @larissaoftarthweems @a-queen-and-her-throne @bikergurl5 @salems-spaghettios @theflashesoflove @catechristiesstuff @vendocrap8008 @billiedeansbitch @coffeemelko @lilfartbox1 @amateurwritescm @daydream-cement @kaymariesworld @sicklygrlsicklygrl @wh0re4women @rippersz @milfsloverblog
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Sprawled against the Devil’s chest in a grand bathtub next to the fireplace, you don’t think it can get better than this. Their soft breasts pressed against your back, their nimble fingers tracing patterns on your chest and stomach, their warm breath on your neck. Their soft lips on the sensitive skin of your jaw, their hair tickling you, their touch gentle and caring. It’s all like a dream. The softest, sweetest, most wonderful dream — the kind that you have right before you ought to wake up. 
Ah, it’s just what your sore and aching body needs.
The water is hot, and yet your lover’s touch makes you shiver. Gooseflesh appears on your skin. You wince when they caress a dark bruise their teeth left on your breast. 
“Aren’t you a sensitive little thing,” they say, and the low rumble next to your ear causes another shiver to run down your spine. Their voice is lilting and melodious — sweet and delicious and oozing like caramel. Just for that voice alone, you’d do anything.
Anything is a dangerous promise. 
They kiss the painful, throbbing love-bite on your neck. A sharp gasp escapes you. 
“Tell me, have I been too rough with you? I forget how… fragile mortals can be.” 
They’ve been less than gentle with you, that much is true. And yet, you can’t find it in yourself to mind. The pain brought with it indescribable pleasure. It left you aching and sensitive and marked with bruises, but pleasurably spent. However, you’re content to be pampered with gentle touch and a hot bath with fragrant oils and salts — you don’t think you could take anything more than utmost tenderness right now. 
“You haven’t,” you say, and they chuckle into your ear — a low, deep sound, a puff of air against your earlobe.
“Liar,” they whisper into your ear. You can feel them smile against it. “Don’t worry, my sweet lamb. I intend to be nothing but gentle with you now that I’ve had my fun.”
Their warm breath on your ear has an intoxicating effect on you. You close your eyes and smile stupidly, leaning into them as much as you can, wanting to be as close to them as possible. 
“Sweet thing,” they say and run their hand down your torso, down, down until they reach between your legs. You wince when they touch the bruised and abused bundle of nerves nestled between your lower lips. It’s painful, rather than pleasurable.
“Lucifer,” you say softly, and they make a little circle with their fingers. Your abdominal muscles convulse and you hiss. “Please, I can’t take it.”
“No?” they ask softly and plant a kiss on your neck. “But I am being so very gentle.”
They gently flick their fingers over the little bud and you buck your hips involuntarily. You try to move away from the painful touch, but there is nowhere to go. You are engulfed by their much larger body, by their gentle, but unrelenting hands. “Please,” you breathe, “I can’t.”
“The human body is wondrous thing. It entertains me greatly to see how much my touch affects you,” they say almost conversationally. They rub gentle circles, but even the lightest pressure makes you cry out in pain. However, hidden somewhere beneath the pain, distant pleasure starts to build. It grows in your lower belly, warm and steady. 
Belonging to the Devil isn’t something one should take lightly.
“Sweet, sweet lamb — how you amuse me. It feels good, doesn’t it?” they whisper softly, their voice a soothing lullaby in your ear. “Tell me, do you wish me to stop?”
You open your mouth to say yes, but words evade you. “I can’t,” you say instead.
“Of course you can,” they say, saccharine sweet. “Do you want me to show you?”
No, you want to say, but the words don’t come. “It hurts,” you whine. 
You’re hot — aching and throbbing, your lungs full of steam rising from the bath, hyperaware of their body pressing into your own, of their breath on your ear. They are inexorable, rubbing gentle circles, making you pant and whimper. The once distant pleasure emerges through the pain, stronger, clearer than before.
“Poor thing,” they coo, sugary sweet. “So sensitive, and yet doing so well for me. So obedient. Such a good girl.”
Their voice renders you dizzy and confused. What is it you wanted to say?
“Do you want me to stop?” they ask again and press harder. You cry out. They laugh into your neck — a warm gush of air and a sound of angel-bells ringing.
Stop, yes, stop — that’s what you wanted to say — but they rub harder and faster and then overwhelming, all-consuming pleasure washes over you. The intensity of it crashes and then ebbs and flows like a wave. You’re distantly aware of your own cries and the Devil’s soft words.
“See, my sweet dove? You can.”
But I didn’t want to, you think — a distant, hazy thought, something you can almost grasp. 
They whisper soft words of encouragement into your ear, and their voice ebbs and flows not unlike the pleasure in your belly. You convulse and ache and grip their arm, and they shush you, hold you, and caress you.
It takes a while before the pain and the pleasure subside. You’re sore and achey and spent — even more so than before. You didn’t think it possible.
“I…” you try to speak. 
“You…?” they mock you sweetly. 
“I didn’t…” 
“Didn’t you?,” they say, smiling into your neck. You can feel the sharpness of their teeth against your skin. 
I didn’t, you want to say, but you aren’t so sure anymore. A pleasant, blissful sleepiness weighs on your limbs like a heavy cloak. You drift in and out of sleep as the Devil gently cleans your sweaty skin, rubs your scalp, washes your hair and peppers soft kisses over your abused body. Tender, beautiful aftercare — exactly what you need — and oh, they do it so lovingly. 
It isn’t until you’re dried off and carefully carried and laid upon the bed — on the most exquisite and decadent silken sheets — that you find it in yourself to speak. You’re sleepy, so terribly sleepy, and yet you manage to ask what’s been on your mind for some time now.
“Lucifer…” you manage to utter, softly and quietly. 
“Yes?” they ask as they settle next to you, pulling you close, wrapping their arms around your waist. They bury their nose into your hair and inhale deeply. 
“Do I… have agency? Now, after the…”
They wrap a wing around you, shielding you and covering you as if with a blanket. “Of course you do. You can have anything you desire.”
They’re right — you do get everything you desire. And yet, what agency does someone — something — that belongs have? Is a plaything allowed to desire? And if it is, do they just end up desiring what their Master wants?
“Really?” you murmur. Your eyelids are heavy with sleep. A wonderful, warm feeling, and yet there is something underneath it. You can almost remember what it is.
“Name it and it is yours, little lamb.”
Yes, yes, it is true, you think as you snuggle closer to them. They’re warm and they smell like burning wood — comforting, like a fire that chases away the winter cold that wants to settle in one’s very bones. It’s true, you think — they always ask what you want. 
It’s just that you always seem to want exactly what they do.
You want to ask something else, but it escapes you. Something on the tip of your tongue you can’t quite grasp. A question, a flickering light you can’t quite catch. 
You sigh softly and drift into sleep — warm and safe in Lucifer’s embrace. Who knows, maybe if you stayed awake just a tad longer, you’d have remembered what you wanted to ask. 
Indeed — selling one's soul to the Devil isn’t something one should take lightly.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
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bigoltrashpile · 7 months
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Skeletons with an S/O or close friend who sleeps nude or near nude?
I just think it's funny the mental image of one of them ready to lay down with the reader for the night, and then see a shirt and pants chucked across the room and boom, ass, bare, right next to em.
Hehehehehehehehehe, I love this trope! >:3 Also so sorry everybody, I've been very busy (who knew being a teacher would take a lot of work lmao)
Mafiatale Sans: Sans is mostly chill about it. On the outside, at least. On the inside he's screaming. He won't be able to stop himself from sneaking a few glances at your bare skin, but he quickly forces him to look away soon after. Hopefully he'll get a bit more comfortable with you being naked, but for now he's going to be a little flustered.
Mafiatale Papyrus: Papyrus is a gentleman, he would never do something so uncouth as to get horny just because he saw his dear friend in their underwear! That's what he tells himself anyway. On the inside, though, he's totally freaking out. He's going to have to take several deep breaths and not look at you for too long. He doesn't want to make you uncomfortable!
Mafiaswap Sans (Lucky): Oh wonderful, I hope you're ready for so much more flirting than you're used to. No matter if you're dating or if you're just close pals, he's going to make sure that you know that you're incredibly attractive~ Don't be fooled though, he's doing this to hide how flustered he is. If you're too busy blushing, you won't notice his!
Mafiaswap Papyrus (Slim): Oh god oh fuck oh no oh damn. He's going to be ridiculously flustered by you. He's probably going to have to look away from you for a while, both so that you don't notice his super bright blush, and so that he doesn't get a bit too excited by you. Please at least put on pants if you don't want to kill the poor man.
Mafiafell Sans (Butch): I hope you're ready for him to get naked as well. If you're going to fluster him, he's going to fluster you back! He'll probably lay on the bed in the "draw me like one of your french girls" pose. He might even try to get frisky, if you two have that kind of relationship. Even if you don't, he's going to dial up the flirts to 11.
Mafiafell Papyrus (Noir): He's going to act cool, but stars, he has no idea what to do. Are you flirting? Are you getting comfortable? Is this a human thing?? What are these riddles??? You might have to explain that it's just how you sleep before he drives himself crazy with all these theories and questions.
Mafiaswapfell Sans (Scar): Scar isn't going to make a huge deal about it. Of course, he thinks you're ridiculously attractive, and loves the view, but he knows that this is probably how you sleep. For now, he's going to just enjoy sleeping next to you, and being able to feel how soft your skin is.
Mafiaswapfell Papyrus (Hound): Oh? Do you want to fuck? Okay, he's ready-oh, nope. You just sleep like this. He tries to hide his disappointment, but he's also just happy to cuddle! That's pretty damn good too! Maybe you'll want to go further next time!
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