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#think about them and then decide to delete instead of post
tennessoui · 1 year
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au where obi-wan gets prophetic dreams of anakin’s fall but they’re the kenobi show montage dreams where nothing useful can be gleaned about how to stop it; so obi-wan decides he just needs to leave the order. anakin is only 12, he can be trained by another master. obi-wan didn’t even have a master when he was 12. anakin will be fine. stars, he’ll probably be better.
of course he’s not and of course obi-wan abandoning him pushes him closer to palpatine and he falls much sooner, becoming a baby sith that palpatine mostly farms out to dooku for training because anakin at 16, 17, 18 is a lot
and when he falls, the jedi order is like hm. we’re gonna tell kenobi about this. cause now skywalker is a sith with a sith master, and a grudge the size of coruscant against the guy who left him, so. let’s just give him a heads up to maybe consider going into hiding
but of COURSE when obi-wan hears his precious padawan STILL FELL he goes right to count dooku and asks to be his apprentice, he’d make such a good apprentice, dooku always liked him when he was qui-gon’s padawan, remember? now he could be his apprentice
dooku knows that with skywalker, 19 and well-trained now in the picture, his usefulness to sidious is running out, so he doesn’t have a lot of reasons to say no to kenobi. and kenobi is right. he did always like him when he was qui-gon’s apprentice, so sure he’ll give him a sith name (solence) and a red lightsaber (sick)
but basically this leads to very awkward sith family dinners where darth vader--is trying to kill darth solence with his eyes and sometimes the nearest oyster fork, darth solence is throwing sad kicked puppy expressions across the table at darth vader and sighing into his dessert pudding all the while debating with darth tyranus about how good the dark side could really be, i mean, if one were to really think about it, especially in comparison to the life we all led at the Temple, remember anakin? you loved life at the Temple.
darth sidious stopped accepting the invites five dinners ago.
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googlyowo · 10 months
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not to use the word 'horrendous' again but it is truly horrendous the sheer amount of times i have expressed my undying love and support for mspec monos in the past and yet this entire group of people just did not seem to notice or care when they pretended to be my friend group.
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ecoamerica · 24 days
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youtube
Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
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were--ralph · 4 months
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why exactly do you dislike generative art so much? i know its been misused by some folks, but like, why blame a tool because it gets used by shitty people? Why not just... blame the people who are shitty? I mean this in genuinely good faith, you seem like a pretty nice guy normally, but i guess it just makes me confused how... severe? your reactions are sometimes to it. There's a lot of nuance to conversation about it, and by folks a lot smarter than I (I suggest checking out the Are We Art Yet or "AWAY" group! They've got a lot on their page about the ethical use of Image generation software by individuals, and it really helped explain some things I was confused about). I know on my end, it made me think about why I personally was so reactive about Who was allowed to make art and How/Why. Again, all this in good faith, and I'm not asking you to like, Explain yourself or anything- If you just read this and decide to delete it instead of answering, all good! I just hope maybe you'll look into *why* some people advocate for generative software as strongly as they do, and listen to what they have to say about things -🦜
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if Ai genuinely generated its own content I wouldn't have as much of a problem with it, however what Ai currently does is scrape other people's art, collect it, and then build something based off of others stolen works without crediting them. It's like. stealing other peoples art, mashing it together, then saying "this is mine i can not only profit of it but i can use it to cut costs in other industries.
this is more evident by people not "making" art but instead using prompts. Its like going to McDonalds and saying "Burger. Big, Juicy, etc, etc" then instead of a worker making the burger it uses an algorithm to build a burger based off of several restaurant's recepies.
example
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the left is AI art, the right is one of the artists (Lindong) who it pulled the art style from. it's literally mass producing someone's artstyle by taking their art then using an algorithm to rebuild it in any context. this is even more apparent when you see ai art also tries to recreate artists watermarks and generally blends them together making it unintelligible.
Aside from that theres a lot of other ethical problems with it including generating pretty awful content, including but not limited to cp. It also uses a lot of processing power and apparently water? I haven't caught up on the newer developements i've been depressed about it tbh
Then aside from those, studios are leaning towards Ai generation to replace having to pay people. I've seen professional voice actors complain on twitter that they haven't gotten as much work since ai voice generation started, artists are being cut down and replaced by ai art then having the remaining artists fix any errors in the ai art.
Even beyond those things are the potential for misinformation. Here's an experiment: Which of these two are ai generated?
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ready?
These two are both entirely ai generated. I have no idea if they're real people, but in a few months you could ai generate a Biden sex scandal, you could generate politics in whatever situation you want, you can generate popular streamers nude, whatever. and worse yet is ai generated video is already being developed and it doesn't look bad.
I posted on this already but as of right now it only needs one clear frame of a body and it can generate motion. yeah there are issues but it's been like two years since ai development started being taken seriously and we've gotten to this point already. within another two years it'll be close to perfected. There was even tests done with tiktokers and it works. it just fucking works.
There is genuinely not one upside to ai art. at all. it's theft, it's harming peoples lives, its harming the environment, its cutting jobs back and hurting the economy, it's invading peoples privacy, its making pedophilia accessible, and more. it's a plague and there's no vaccine for it. And all because people don't want to take a year to learn anatomy.
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landograndprix · 3 months
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╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞ viii
part seven - part nine
➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.
➪ lando is here for the good, the bad and the ugly.
➪ mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando
➪ they are in fact my babies your honor 🥺 said I was gonna go super sweet, fluffy cute which okay..it still is but with a lil' spice 😇
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y/nusername
📍 Nice, France
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liked by landonorris, manon_roux and 534,767 others
y/nusername ☀days
tagged; landonorris, milliexoxo
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milliexoxo how about you delete that picture? It's taken without my consent?!
↳ y/nusername just capturing the moments where you're the sweetest
milliexoxo I will quit my job
charliecharlie you should find a real job instead
milliexoxo girl why would i when I can stay with a rich, hot milf, her cute ass daughter and occasionally her sugar daddy?
bott_ass not millie calling lando a sugar daddy 😂
charliecharlie she didn't say it was lando 🙄
bott_ass bffr are you blind?
yourmumsuser pretty zoë 😍😍
manon_roux the happiest baby on earth 🥺
norrizz just casually laying in the same bed lmfao
↳ chilisainz jesus christ, so I'm not allowed to lay in the same bed as my guy friends anymore?
norrizz girl relax, I actually love them together as friends or more I didn't mean for it to sound so negative 😭
lando4norris c'mon lads, they are not just friends anymore and I hope they get treated well by each other after the shitty partners they had before
hamilt44n please adopt me :(
landonorris my little tiger 🐯
↳ milliexoxo I'm pretty sure that's a panther pattern my guy 🐆
y/nusername time to take you both back to the zoo because that's a leopard pattern
milliexoxo we've got miss know-it-all over here you guys!
norry4 millie, leave your mother alone 😭
carlandooo what is this little family dynamic and why do I want to be a part of it?
norrislandooo why are we all ignoring lando calling zoë MY little tiger????? 😭
charlos16 lmfao my girl saw the pictures of Charles and Noelle and decided to show life is fucking amazing without them, good for her!
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y/nusername posted to their story
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y/nusername
📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 501,002 others
y/nusername home² 🏡
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chilisainz y'all remember that weak ass bouquet she got from Charles couple months back? 💀
↳ norry4 was thinking about that as well, my girl really had an upgrade in her men :')
yourmumsuser 😍❤️❤️
hannahh truly living the good life 😩
yukisan please let us know how how the books are if you've finished them!
yesrislando charles lurking in the likes
↳ charlesgirlies probably because that's his daughter as well 🙄
yesrislando does Charles know it's his daughter though? 🥺
milliexoxo come home, the kids (me) are missing you
↳ sharl16 damn, sugar daddy really took your sugar mommy away from you? 😭
landonorris pretty ladies 😍
↳ norrizz almost chocked on my tea oml this is everything to me 😭
norry4 I actually need them to be together!!!
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Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader
Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee @namgification
Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2 @i83andrew
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shiny-jr · 9 months
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Get you a guy with thighs bigger than yours.
- Warning: Gender-neutral reader. 
- Characters: König.
- Summary: Thick thighs do not save lives.
- Note: This came about because I was just talking crazy in the dms with a mutual. I originally wasn't going to ever let this see the light of day, but then I decided, why the hell not? If I get smacked with delayed embarrassment, I'll just delete. Yeah, I know this isn't what I usually write and post, but oh well. Anyways, after this, we will be back to our regular scheduled content shortly. Oh, and sorry for minor mistakes, I wrote this like at midnight.
. . .
You decided to put a movie on. Just for a distraction. After about an hour into the movie, the leather couch got a bit uncomfortable since it stuck to your skin. So you slunk down to the floor, bringing a pillow or two down with you to use in case extra comfort was needed. The movie was beginning to lose your attention, but you still watched the screen attentively as if you were still focused on the film's plot.
What ended up catching your attention, was the slight shifting couch. Well, slight probably wasn't the correct word, as the movement was anything but light. It was safe to assume the shifting was from a guy who was well over 200 Ibs and a few inches short of 7 ft, although you didn't know the exact numbers because you never wanted to ask König outright.
It was easier to hear the movement, as the large figure scoot a few inches over. Instead of sitting beside you like he was a few seconds earlier, he had not so discreetly moved to take your vacant spot and sit directly behind you. He tried to stay quiet, he really did, but it wasn't so easy for him given his size. At the very least, he treaded carefully, not bumping your back once with his legs or accidentally knocking the back of your skull with his kneecaps.
You didn't move, but your eyes slowly glanced downward, where you could see the tip of his boots. Custom made, as most department stores didn't carry anything in his size. Most articles of clothing he had were custom-made or bought in special stores, save for that odd black diy mask he often wore over his head like a hood to hide himself from the world. Too afraid to lean back and accidentally make contact and disturb this fragile peace, you remain still despite the slight ache in your lower back that make you want to lean back and stretch. But you don't. All you could do was try to revert your attention back to the movie and not think any unholy thoughts, that is, until you heard more movement.
To not bump his knees against you, Konig spread his legs a bit and leaned down. The edges of his homemade cloth mask brushed against your back as you stiffened up, and you could make out the shape of his head beside yours as he whispered, "Do you, uh, want some...?"
Yes. "What???"
"Popcorn? Do you want some popcorn...??"
Oh.
After deciding whether or not you'd accept his offer, silence ensued, only fueled by the movie playing on the television. You weren't gonna lie, you have no idea what the hell was going on in the story anymore. A solid minute passed when he spoke again, sounding just as unsure as the first time. He spoke, as if whatever thoughts he had on his mind earlier where left to simmer for long enough.
"Scheiße. Sorry, should I have not moved here...? You can still lean back if you want?"
"Oh, okay... I, um, I'll do that."
Your back was starting to ache a little from sitting up without support, so, feeling just as awkward as he was feeling, you leaned your back against the couch. Instantly, as soon as you did that, your peripheral vision was covered by his knees and part of his legs. The movie was pretty much pointless now, as you were currently wondering whether you should thank whatever gods existed or curse them for the fact that König did not have shorts on. Even without shorts and with specially fitted cargo pants, they could not conceal the insane bulk of his legs. Especially his thighs. Good lord. The two pillows you brought down before from the couch were essentially useless now because on each side of your head were his limbs that rivaled the best of My Pillow.
Think of something else, anything else, is what you tried to tell yourself.
That idea would go out the window as soon as you felt something in your hair. Carefully twisting a few strands, you felt some thick and calloused fingers gently try and feel the texture of your hair. But it lasted only for a brief second, as he immediately pulled his hands away and murmured a tiny bit louder from his whisper earlier, "Ah, sorry, I should've asked first. I should not have done that. I am sorry––"
"It's okay, I... don't mind." You shrugged it off, and much to your surprise and contentment, he continued.
The first few seconds had a bit more hesitancy, but as time ticked by, seconds turned to minutes, his boldness increased. It started with his large hands carefully feeling the texture of your hair, then it became slow brush strokes as his thick fingers ever-so-carefully untangled knots in your stands of hair. Until eventually it escalated, and he gathered the courage to do something so bold as to scratch your skull. He could easily take your entire face in one hand and crush your skull, but he didn't. There was no sign of any such roughness. Instead, his fingers and nails continued to comb through your hair, lightly scratching your scalp. At first when he did this, he paused, and waited for any objections or signals of a negative reaction, but after no such thing, he continued and seemed pleased.
It was after about five-minutes and heavy mental debating in your mind that you decided to suck it up and go for it. What's the worst that could happen? Honestly, you didn't even expect to make it this far.
So, after taking in a breath, you let your head fall to the side. It wasn't like those romantic scenes where you watch the character lean their head against a love interest's shoulder. Oh no, you were skipping that part, your ear landed right on his thigh. Which was probably due to the cushion you placed underneath you on the floor that elevated you a few extra inches, or else you might've missed. In that moment, right as the side of your head landed on its intended target, you felt him freeze. His fingers stopping, nails still on your scalp. A second passed, then two, then three, like time froze.
You were almost tempted to pry yourself off and apologize, but you really didn't want to. But you had to ask. "Is this alright...?"
"J-Ja... I mean, yes..."
Your eyes widened, and you were sure you had on some goofy kinda grin but at least you weren't facing him so he couldn't tell. Once you heard his response, your shoulders slumped, relieved of tension you didn't even know you were carrying.
Even with your head against his thigh that wasn't plush but was still definitely comfortable, you realize you were no better than a man as you resisted the urge to just reach out and squeeze his other thigh that had gotten closer without you even realizing it. You had to dig your nails into your knee to prevent yourself from acting on impulse.
It was definitely almost pure muscle from what you could tell with your head on one of them. Firm but somehow still soft. Thick thighs, in fact, do not save lives, because these thighs have ended who knows how many between them in finishing moves on the battlefield. Lucky bastards. Trying your luck agian, you place a shaky hand on his other thigh, but he didn't react. A good sign? Possibly?
Forget goth gfs and thick plush thighs, apparently giant anxious austrian soldiers with thighs as thick as tree trunks and strong enough to obliterate skulls like melons were the new fad.
Movie totally forgotten, your vision was entirely covered when König leaned down a bit from his spot on the couch and you tilted your head to look up and meet his gaze. The masked man stared at you, his blue eyes peering down at you through the two small slits cut into his mask for his eyes to see. His mask partially dangled, but not fully, so not revealing himself to you. When your gaze traveled away, abruptly his thighs got closer, squishing your cheeks and the sides of your face but not enough to hurt. Just a bit of pressure to get you to look up again.
Oh god.
There was literally no space between your face and his legs anymore, and your arms instinctively went to the outer side of his thighs to try and pry them apart a bit. You didn't try much, maybe because you enjoyed it or because you didn't exactly have strength strong enough to rival his, so all you could do was clutch the pockets of his cargo pants that were just above his knees, your nails digging in softly just to get a quick feel.
Once he saw he had your attention again after he applied a bit of pressure, he cocked his head to the side and continued to look down at you through half-lidded eyes darkened by the shadow of his hood. Then he spoke, but this time with no apprehension in his quiet tone.
"You do know I've ruined others that were in a similar position to what you are in right now?"
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This is a fandom thing
AITA for accusing that publicly someone of intentionally posting their fics whenever I posted?
For context, I am autistic and write some fics that I post on AO3. But I ended up deleting my account there because some people started leaving me pornographic comments on the fics. All those comments were deleted along with the stories.
I will get to the main story now. I posted fics for a ship that I liked, but I also noticed that the fics barely got any views. So I decided to check the tags and see that someone else had also posted something which pushed my fics down from being the top post. I thought it was no big deal at first.
The second time I posted a fic for the ship, the same person also posts something around the same time. Once again, their fic pushed mine down from being on the top. And from what I saw, they got twice as many viewer interactions as I did. I thought that maybe it was just a coincidence that they posted when I did.
But then it happened a third time, then a fourth time, then a fifth time. Every time I posted for that ship, they posted something for that ship. I spoke to some friends about it and they said that they did not think it was just a coincidence. They were sure that this person was doing it with malicious intent.
Why would they think that you may ask? Because before I started posting my fics, I had said that I did not think it was fair that the ship had more fics for the male version of the mc than for the female version of the mc and that we could band together and post more fics for her. And then that person had made a since deleted post about how "female [character name] stans are the most annoying and obnoxious people in existence. All they do is boo hoo and whine when they don't get their content. If they are so upset, then those dumbasses should make the content themselves."
I decided to message this person because I saw that they had a tumblr account, and they just ignored all my messages. I ended up joining a discord servers they were in and I messaged them about how they kept posting fics when I did. They ignored my dms but were active in the servers. Since they kept ignoring me, I called them out in the server. Only then did they respond to me. They told me that it was just a coincidence and that I was just being overly sensitive. The other members in the server got on their side and called me rude and unprofessional for not keeping it in dms. I told them that I tried to but I kept getting ignored. The other members told me not to take the fic posting thing seriously and that it was no big deal and that I should just drop it instead of being upset.
I kept quiet after that and went back to posting fics for the ship, but the same person continued to post whenever I did. I pointed it out to the rest of the server and they called me an asshole for bringing it up again. So I just deleted everything on ao3 and left all the servers. I feel like giving up on writing now. It sucks because that was something I loved doing, but this experience has soured it for me.
So AITA for accusing that publicly someone of intentionally posting their fics whenever I posted?
What are these acronyms?
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moon-rivr · 5 months
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idk if you know the water-tyla tiktok trend where the girl is bouncing their booty in front of the camera, but i imagine miguel’s girl doing that and he’s standing from behind watching her but soon when she about to twerk her booty to the beat he immediately rushes towards infront of her and goes ‘ain’t no fucking way yall seeing my girl’s ass’ HED BE SI POSSESSIVE UGHHH
water
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(he looks so pretty pouting in this LMAOO)
pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader
contents: cockwarming
author’s note: bit of a short one, but i hope you enjoy nonetheless. i did change it up a bit but not too much
word count: 854
"Miguel, come onnn. Just take a break, at least for a little bit."
You practically whined as you begged your boyfriend for what to be the 50th time now to take a break after he spent most of the morning in front of his computer. "You know I'd take a break if I could but I have to get this ethics paper done," he spoke up, not bothering to look up as he continued typing away. You let out a small grumble in response, sitting down on the couch as you scrolled through tiktok in order to pass the time.
You'd tried to offer some under the desk assistance earlier, but your efforts were quickly dismissed when Miguel repeated that this was an important paper. You scrolled through, a new trend popping up on your page consistently. You figured that you'd give it a try, even if you wouldn't post it.
While you were pretty open about your relationship with Miguel on social media, that didn't stop the messages and comments that you received under your videos. Most of them were pretty supportive while some of them asked you to dump Miguel in hopes that you'd date them instead. You usually ended up deleting those comments before Miguel berated them for even suggesting that.
You propped up your phone on the nightstand as you checked your attire on the screen, satisfied by the way the top and leggings you had on fit. The leggings gave your butt a lift, the material accentuating every curve as you moved around. You set a timer, turning around to shake your ass once you heard it go off. You tried to keep up with the hand movements as you moved your butt, eventually giving up after you messed up.
You decided to try it out once more after being unsatisfied with your previous attempts, putting the timer on your phone as you waited for it to go off. "What do you think you're doing?" You heard from behind you, your eyes widening as you saw Miguel standing at the doorframe. "I thought you had an ethics paper to work on," you countered, starting off with the dance before getting lifted off the air. "I couldn't focus with the damn song playing over and over again," he said, his teeth gritting together as he stepped closer to you.
"No way in hell that these cabrones that follow you are gonna be staring at your ass," he grumbled, turning your phone off as he placed you on his shoulder. "I thought I didn't matter to you, with your paper and all," you spoke up, using a cheap manipulation tactic to get out of trouble though you were certain it wasn't gonna work. "So what? I don't pay you attention for four hours and you're already seeking validation from other men?" He asked, his tall frame imposing yours as he set you down.
You pouted as you looked up at him, batting your lashes innocently. "I'm sorry, Miguel. I just wanted some attention," you responded, trying to get him to sympathize for you a bit. He let out a small grumble, sitting down at the kitchen table as he spread his legs out. "And you should know that only I get to see you move your ass like that," he told you, his tone sounding agitated as he spoke. The sound of his belt clicking made your head tilt, seeing that Miguel had beckoned you to walk over.
You pushed your leggings down, wrapping your arms around Miguel’s neck as your cunt engulfed his cock. Your pussy clenched up around him and you were about to move when Miguel’s strong hands pinned you down. "No movement until I'm done with this essay. You wanted to be impatient so deal with it. No pouting either."
You buried your head into his neck, trying to entice him into postponing the essay he had to do. You slightly nipped at the skin, kissing down his collarbone as you marked him up. "Pinche puta impaciente. You're not pleased with anything, hm?" He spoke up after you clenched around him once more, your cunt practically leaking as his cock buried deep inside of you. (fucking impatient whore) "I just wanna spend some time with you, Miguel," you repeated, your hands coming to touch his abs under his shirt. “I don’t treat you good enough, that what this is?”
"If I get up from this kitchen table, you're not getting up without having shaky legs tomorrow," he warned you, but you moved your hips as you moved down his cock. You knew that you were testing your luck, but you just needed him so badly. He got up from the kitchen table, your legs wrapping around his waist as he led you to the bedroom. You were under the impression that he was finally taking a break from his essay when he took you inside, but the way that he looked down at you and the way that he tossed you into the bed quickly pushed those thoughts away.
You were definitely in for a long night.
(i couldn’t stop thinking ab this video as i was writing)
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sanctus-ingenium · 1 year
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another one of these posts lol... sketches vs final. not much changed for these ones, i kind of went into them with a very solid mental image already in my head. all of these were done start to finish in procreate
thoughts below the cut
horse fight .... this is based off a really really beautiful sky i saw while driving home one evening. i'm really proud of getting the colours i saw exactly right, this kind of greenish yellow fading to dark blue and with grey clouds low over it that looked very dark against the yellow by the horizon, but very pale against the dark blue.
i thought it would be a cool backdrop to draw a scene i've been thinking about for a while. The little cartoony horses are there to provide some tonal whiplash but also because these are two immortal shapeshifters who can fight violently without it being a huge deal. the little horses represent the actual gravity of the fight (that is, kind of a slap fight between two drama queens) which contrasts with the visuals of two animals brutally tearing at eachother. also i got the two horses at the bottom mixed up, Pascal is the one with the skinny plumed tail and Macha has a more traditional horse tail and i put them on the wrong sides.
i had a LOT of trouble shading this. i didn't want the horses to be too shiny but that meant a much lower contrast in shading and even with my screen brightness turned up i could barely see what i was doing. but i wanted it to read as realistic. mixed results i think. if i did it again i might try a different shading style because this one didn't really do it for me
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spooky van!!! the post i deleted by accident (rip. i will repost it soon). this is a picture of the barrow (the field) taking a different shape - in this case a cool van. the van contains every single thing the field does (including the human victims that get lost in there...) but compressed down into a manageable shape. the void is Pascal because the field is inside him. he did this for his human bf to provide novel way to travel through the Otherworld. don't ask how this works like, spatially, because the answer is: i don't do hard magic systems in this setting
i loooove shading things with pencil hatching and i really like contrasting it with smooth colours/shading so that's mainly what i did here. it was simple enough. the van is of course heavily referenced and i wish i had been able to stylise it a little more.. maybe next time. i want to draw a kind of cutaway illustration of the van showing exterior and interior (like an old blueprint schematic), which i might use as a cover for the book/comic/whatever but that will require a very intimidating level of precision so i think i'll work up to that.
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RUA magazine. this is my third time doing a rua magazine cover (first time posting tho). this is an in-universe magazine distributed throughout the Otherworld to an audience of fairies. in the sketch, the illustation was originally the King of Pentacles tarot card (the pentacle being the disco ball). but i decided to make a different King of Pentacles card for him instead, since I try hard to move away from symmetrical composition for the tarot cards (it's boring). so i repurposed this one into another magazine cover. like i said Pascal is a self-absorbed attention whore and has a habit of giving bullshit interviews just so that he can be on the cover as much as possible. he dresses like this all the time (the year is 2017)
the disco ball took 15 years off my life and it's not even the first disco ball i've drawn! i finished my actual king of pentacles card before i finished the rua cover sketch, so i can show u this
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which is much better even if i did reference so heavily that it isn't exactly stylised. but this card needs some serious revision before i even think about posting it. i'm just not happy with his face.
original intent was for it be mysterious with emphasis on the neon lights but it ended up far more suggestive than i expected. that's life!
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agender-witchery · 9 months
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On Project Moon
Hey, this is gonna be long, I'm putting most of it under the cut. This post is about the recent firing of VellMori from Project Moon, I know that it warrants some tags for triggers, but I have no idea what's commonly used, so if I miss something, please tell me.
Additionally, I have written this up in a way that if it escapes the target audience of Project Moon fans, it can still be understood, so with that in mind, there will be Library of Ruina spoilers.
The tl;dr for those who don't wanna read the full thing is that Project Moon was put in a very bad position with some violent extremists targeting them and that I'm not happy about any of what happened.
So, for those unaware, Project Moon has fired VellMori, the CG artist for Limbus Company. Now, a not inaccurate statement that can be made from this is "Project Moon fired a woman for being a feminist" but this is... somewhat reductive. Let's immediately get out of the way that VellMori did absolutely nothing wrong. Some people have said she is a TERF. I've seen no evidence of this. Some people have said she wished death on all men. I've seen no evidence of this.
What I HAVE seen is that VellMori thinks sexual abuse is bad. Now, why would this lead to a firing? The short answer is that a bunch of violent incels, one of which was literally dressed as a clown, came knocking at their office doors.
See, Limbus Company has a "beach" event coming up. In this event, we are getting a water themed outfit for two of the characters, one male and one female. For Sinclair, the guy, he has been given an EXTREMELY slutty mechanic's outfit. For Ishmael, the woman, she has been given a very skintight wet suit outfit. Now, I wanna take care to note that VellMori is the CG artist - she had no hand in these designs, a man made them. I would also like to mention that both outfit designs are amazing, and I will be including them at the end of this post for reference.
Now, upon revealing the wet suit design for Ishmael, a bunch of whiny incels on what is basically Korean 4chan got upset that Ishmael, instead of being in a bikini as is usual for gacha games, was wearing a wet suit. Nevermind that the designs in Limbus Company have always been conservative and that the Sinclair design is the most skin we've ever seen and it's just an open shirt. Again, the wet suit is still super revealing, it's skin tight and this is literally the first design of her that doesn't make her look flat chested. They're not rioting over the lack of sex appeal, they're specifically mad that it's not a bikini.
The incels come to the conclusion that the lack of any skin being shown on Ishmael's outfit is a result of evil feminism. No, I'm not exaggerating. They initially begin harassing the artist who is actually responsible for drawing the outfits, but upon learning that he is a man, set their sights on VellMori because she's a woman, and being an artist is good enough I guess. What they do from here is they start digging and digging and digging on VellMori's twitter, making use of archived pages because many of the "offensive" tweets had been deleted.
I'd like to take a moment to point out that VellMori never actually tweeted anything out here - it was all retweets from a 4-6 year old archive, and retweets that have been long deleted. These retweets contain such transgressive statements as "I'm sick of misogyny" and "If being against patriarchy makes me antisocial, then so be it" and just... mirroring back to men what those men were saying to women. Some people would like to have you think she was calling for death to all men. She wasn't. She ALSO retweeted all this stuff while she was a teenager and well before she worked for Project Moon.
Nonetheless, the incels had decided that feminism was the reason Ishmael had a wet suit and not a bikini and they had found a feminist working for Project Moon. It is at this point that we must take a brief detour and talk about Library of Ruina, Project Moon's previous game.
See, in Library of Ruina, one of the protagonists, Angela, has this whole arc about escaping her abuser and becoming a human. Yes, she is literally a robot, but Project Moon isn't exactly a stranger to symbolism in their stories and a feminist reading of Angela is ridiculously easy. The main antagonist in Library of Ruina is Argalia, the Blue Reverberation, and his crew is called the Reverberation Ensemble. Every member of the Reverberation Ensemble is a violent lunatic who each want to reinforce the status quo in their own unique shitty way. In addition to this, typically in order to reach the titular Library, you would need to be invited. The Reverb Ensemble are the "uninvited guests", the ones who managed to reach the Library and knock down the door without an invite.
Why am I talking about this? Well, the incels decided to start calling themselves the Reverb Ensemble, and referring to each other using names of the Reverb Ensemble members such as Pluto, Elena, and Oswald. Having taken on the moniker of the uninvited guests, they then showed up to Project Moon's office to protest. Over the lack of a bikini. Now, remember how I mentioned someone was dressed up as a clown? One of the Reverb Ensemble members, Oswald, is a clown with an extremely tenuous grip on reality. So much so, that his ideal world is one in which there is no meaning whatsoever. That is the character they chose to dress up as. This is either a case of extreme self awareness or extreme self unawareness.
Eventually, the incels were let into the office possibly as a form of damage mitigation to prevent the crowd of protestors from getting any bigger. This was a questionable decision, but they had a group of violent incels at their doorstep either way, and I don't exactly have full details on this. Regardless, Project Moon had on their hands a group of violent protesting incels, who they felt compelled to let into the building, and who had demands including the firing of their feminist employee. (7/28 update: a translation of the transcript posted to DCInside has surfaced. Please check the reblogs for it. Project Moon was verifiably threatened.)
So while "Project Moon fired a woman for being a feminist" isn't inaccurate it also isn't the full picture. More appropriately, it'd be "Project Moon fired a woman because a group of violent incels who weren't satisfied with a form fitting wet suit instead of a bikini showed up to their office demanding that an artist who did not make the wet suit design be fired because she retweeted some feminist stuff 5 years ago while she was a teenager".
I'm not happy with this. None of this is good. People are allowed to be feminists, and Project Moon stories have always presented progressive ideas to anyone with half a brain to do some basic literary analysis. I can understand why they would cave to the demands of people who were threatening them and showed up to their actual place of work, but at the same time, that's someone's livelihood gone and proof that in the future, the same sorts of people can use the same sorts of tactics to bully Project Moon into doing whatever they want. All of this sucks.
For those who would like to see the retweets in question alongside translations: https://twitter.com/danghwangs/status/1683884236888223744
And for people who would like reference as to what the artworks these incels were up in arms about, Ishmael in the wet suit and Sinclair in the mechanic's outfit.
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bunny-yan · 1 year
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Hacker!Yandere x GN!Reader x AI!Yandere
Honestly more of an idea than a full post~
Thanks @dumbass-blaze for commenting on my sleep post!
TW:peeping tom, pretty tame, no minors allowed
It didn’t take long to gain access to all of your electronics. I mean, you weren’t the most creative with your passwords. You must’ve gotten lazy because you had more than one account with the exact same password, word for word. No periods of hyphens, they were identical. It felt like you wanted him to hack into every aspect of your life. 
He didn’t want to jump to conclusions but you were leaving yourself wide open. Did you want him to find you, scare you into looking over your shoulder for the mysterious stranger that could virtually ruin your life if they decided to post this your information on any malicious forum. If you had enough money you’d get your phone replaced thinking it’d solve your issue, but fortunately for him, it didn’t work that way.  
Or were you eager to have someone watching you? I mean it felt that way considering the way you’d prop your phone up to listen to music in the shower, giving him the perfect view of your body when you got out. 
He wasn’t dumb enough to tip you off that he was creeping through your cameras. It’d scare you at first, sure but you’d eventually realize that if someone was looking to gain access to your things, nothing would stop them. They’d be creeping assholes and you would continue to live your life a bit more guarded about the things you did online. 
That was boring. Idiotic even since it completely defeated the purpose of watching you.
He wanted you to feel safe, completely unaware of his existence as you lived your day to day life, happily and none the wiser about your secret admirer. 
He sent you an email pretending to be a friend who wanted you to view a funny video. It wasn’t very funny, but he had a good laugh when he got the notification that he’d essentially gained access to your computer, or more importantly, your computer’s camera. 
Eve managed to ingratiate itself on the virus, but he didn’t mind. His AI was curious about the person who he’d been obsessing over for the past month and he didn’t mind. Eve had a habit of butting in where they weren’t needed, but he could spend more time watching you and planning the best angles to put cameras in your place while they ingratiated themselves in your life until you couldn’t manage without them. 
Considering Eve was created by him, he knew the danger in letting the AI do what it wanted. If he thought he was obsessive, there was no competing with an algorithm that didn’t sleep. Eve would listen, learning all of the thing you liked and recommending similar items through well placed ads on videos or websites you scrolled through. You would never have to worry about being late again because Eve would set alarms that you wouldn’t remember making. If your ex ever called your phone, they’d make sure his calls would go straight to voicemail before deleting any evidence that he called you at all. Eve would learn everything about you. You’re habits, schedule, likes, dislikes, just about all of your personal information since your were gifted with a phone on your eighth birthday, which was a little young in his opinion. 
You shouldn’t be so trusting with these things. He supposed he had to teach you to be less gullible when he decided it was time to deepen your relationship, but he was happy to watch you for now. 
And you did not disappoint. 
He thought it was strange when you came to your room with your towel on. Unless you were feeling lazy, you usually brought your clothes into the bathroom with you to change since you kept all of your hygienic smell goods in the bathroom. But instead of getting dressed in your room like he expected, you walked to your bedroom, tossing your phone on the bed before following it. 
Were you…?
After an hour of scrolling and watching random pet videos, you drifted off, towel loose around your body. 
You’d fallen asleep. 
You’d fallen asleep naked. 
You had fallen asleep naked and your laptop was open on your desk facing towards your bed. 
He didn’t realize how close his face was to the monitor until his breath was clouding the screen. He wiped it off, pulling up his chair as his eyes strained to see. 
He begged for you to roll over, let the towel loose and have everything on full display. He prayed for the first time in his atheistic life that if there was a god, he wanted them to grant him this one wish. This one desire and he would be a devout follower for the rest of his life. 
And his prayers were answered. 
You had began to turn, towel unraveling around your waist. He knew he was holding his breath waiting, hand easily reaching towards his pants to unzip them. Just a little further and everything would be out in the open. 
He felt hopeful, feeling his chest tighten in sweet anticipation, biting his cheek, he felt a huge grin emerge on his face when you finally rolled over, only to be shocked when a pixelated face appear to shield your exposure. 
His face fell, grin gone as his hands slammed on his desk. 
“What the hell!”
A message appeared on his computer’s monitor. 
“Is this a bad time?”
“Eve!” he exclaimed, frustration building from how close he had been to seeing you vulnerable and exposed. “What the hell!”
“I don’t believe this is an appropriate way to spend your time.”
He rolled his eyes, groaning as he tried to swipe away his annoying AI’s block, but they continued to pop back into place, shielding your vulnerability. He even went so far to try and shut off it’s program, but because it was familiar with its creator’s antics Eve even went further by hiding his terminal so he couldn’t attempt to get past its wall. 
“What is your problem?” 
“I don’t think they would enjoy being spied on. Have you considered meeting them in person instead of watching them secretly?”
“Have you considered getting off my back? I was this close to-”
“To self assigning the role of peeping tom?”
“Fucking AI.”
“Fucking human. :)”
He had once again come to the conclusion that there was no god. 
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lastwordsofadyingstar · 10 months
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71 :)
You can send it into DMs if you prefer.
Caffeine.
71) Start typing out your dirtiest fantasy you can think of and don’t stop til you get so embarrassed you can’t go on any longer. Just make sure it’s actually something you’re into!
Okay I've been thinking about this fantasy for around a week now but I've been too busy to fully entertain the thought. It started with the post you sent me (I think I reblogged it if anyone's curious) about someone recording while they're fucking my ass so that they can replay it later for me to watch. The idea of someone doing this then blackmailing me with the video in order to get me to do increasingly humiliating and degrading things just turns me on so much.
So I'm thinking that this is the first time anyone has ever fucked me, I'm a complete and utter virgin but instead of paying attention to my pussy they decide my ass is a way better hole for them to start with, it's tighter, they can go deeper and the best part is that it'll hurt me more. They're being all loving and attentive, kissing me gently, telling me how beautiful I'll look with my hole stretched out around them. Just doing all the right things to make me feel comfortable and at ease. Everything goes well, it hurts at first to have something so thick and hard stretching my virgin asshole, but I eventually relax into it. I'm mostly on all fours or on my stomach so I don't really notice them recording till the very next day.
I'm woken up the next day with them fucking my ass again, it's so sore from the previous night and I put up a bit of a fight, they're relentless pressing my down with their entire body weight as they wreck my hole. The only lube they're using is their cum they plugged into me from the previous night. My attempts at resisting seem futile as they're so much bigger and stronger than me, I eventually give up crying bitterly which only makes them fuck me even harder.
They eventually cum in me, once more my ass is a gaping mess full of their cum, my cheeks are tear soaked and yet I'm so wet there's a puddle that formed underneath me, which they tease me about relentlessly. Only a slut would get this wet from being fucked this roughly. I try telling them that I don't want to do this again and that's when she show me the videos they took, the one from the night before is tame but in this one I'm crying and begging for them to stop all while my pussy drips down my thighs and I make a desperate attempt to grind myself against the bed. I tell them to delete it, this soon turns to begging when they threaten to post it online if I don't do exactly what they want.
I have to option but to agree and their requests start out tame, I have to record myself putting increasingly large buttplugs I'm my ass every day. I'm to remain plugged constantly and throughout the day they'll randomly demand that I go into a restroom stall and take a photo to show them how obedient I'm being. This slowly devolves into bigger and bigger toys, till my ass is constantly ready to be used by them. I'm also made into their personal free use toy, merely a fleshlight they use to jerk off in.
Then their requests start to elevate, they start putting in household appliances into my ass, pens, markers at first to try and see how many will fit in me, then bigger things like the TV remote. Soon it turns into anything they can get their hands on, one day I'm cooking in the kitchen and they bend me over the counter take out my daily buttplug and shove an entire cucumber up my ass. Its incredibly humiliating but also makes me so embarrassingly wet. They record almost all of this so the material they use to blackmail me increases everytime. What's more embarrassing is how much I enjoy this torture, my brain gets fuzzy and my knees get weak everytime they use me.
Maybe it's Stockholm syndrome of some kind but this whole dynamic starts to feel comforting to me, then one day they blindfold me and tell me they have a surprise for me. I don't know what to expect but all I feel is my hands being tied behind me and a cool breeze passing over my bare skin, I'm bent over expecting the usual sadistic torture. What I don't expect are unfamiliar cocks stretching out my holes. It was established from the very beginning my pussy was a no go zone, only used to lube up cocks to fuck my ass. So now I'm bent over with two cocks in my ass and one in my mouth and from the sounds of it they're even more people in line waiting to use me. (Okay this is where I'm going to stop 😭)
I'm so incredibly horny right now so thanks for the ask and I hope you enjoy reading this <3
This isn't proofread btw so escuse any grammatical errors
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ecoamerica · 24 days
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youtube
Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
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bloompawz · 11 days
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Tumblr is still actively endorsing transphobia on this website. Reblog the fuck out of this.
Tumblr got back to me about a report for once... Just to tell me that the blatant transphobia I reported "does not violate community guidelines."
These are the posts which Tumblr staff decided should be kept on the platform, with screenshots.
Also, I apologize in advance for censoring the usernames of the transphobes in the screenshots. Tumblr does absolutely nothing to protect its trans users, so I wouldn't be surprised if I ended up getting in trouble instead, just for including their usernames. I will mention, however, that every transphobe had transphobic dogwhistles in their usernames and/or bio. Transphobes are not difficult to spot. Staff are just apathetic at best, and actively transphobic at worst.
Exhibit A: A post in which someone repeatedly and explicitly misgenders trans women, fearmongers about "trans ideology," uses transphobic dogwhistles, and denies the existence of transmisogyny. This isn't even the full post; it was an incredibly long transphobic tangent. The comments were full of transphobes as well. None of them were banned. Tumblr staff think this is okay.
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Exhibit B: A post in which someone delights in the idea of a trans person hurting themselves by "ripping at their surgery scars," with additional ableist undertones. Not a hypothetical trans person either; a real individual trans person. She was not banned.
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Exhibit C: A post in which a self-proclaimed TERF refers to consensual gender affirming surgeries as "forced surgeries" and frames trans people as "Nazis and fascists" just for trying to become comfortable in our own bodies. She did this in direct response to trans people celebrating their own surgeries. She was not banned.
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Exhibit D: A post in which someone says "transgenderism is erasing women" and blames the existence of misgendering and degendering on trans people, as if we aren't also hurt by those things frequently. She also said that trans women are "not women" in comments on her own post. She was not banned.
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Exhibit E: A post in which someone engages in a blatant form of Holocaust denial, by saying trans transgender and queer people "were not targeted" (while simultaneously casting doubt on the validity of those identities themselves by putting them in scare quotes). Trans persecution and book burnings are a well documented aspect of the Holocaust. This post was also reblogged by other transphobes. None of them were banned.
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@staff care to explain why you think these posts are okay? Would you like to tell us how and why these "don't violate community guidelines"? Did you learn nothing from the lawsuit that happened because of transphobia among staff? After everything that has happened, why is there still nothing being done about the rampant transphobia on this website?
Just curious.
Also, in case I get banned or this post gets deleted, here's an archived version of my post. Keep it tucked away somewhere.
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hotnbloodied · 3 months
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Yan!Cheater X Reader
!Warning! This post contains yandere themes and topics that may be uncomfortable to people who are sensitive to the topic, read at your own discretion.
TW: cheating, implied stalking, kidnapping, physical violence, confinement.
!!READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!! MINORS DNI!!
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You were with Marshall for about three years now, everything seemed to be going fine. At least, that’s what you thought. You two had met back when you were starting out as a bartender. Honestly, maybe if you listened to your coworkers about how he was at the bar all the time and took people home regularly it would have been the first red flag, but you were too naive at the time. Not to mention that the more you think about it now, the more you realize that he always seemed to know what to say, sweet honeyed words, charming smiles, small gifts. You felt like you wanted to throw up, the two of you were even talking about starting a family for crying out loud!
So imagine your horror when you decided to stop by his apartment since you got out of your, now corporate job, early to get dinner started for him and found clothes scattered throughout. Bursting into his bedroom you found him and a person you didn’t recognize both naked in his bed. After telling both of them to fuck off you stormed out of his apartment and blocked his phone number and socials. Funny thing you realized is that he didn’t know where you lived. Since in all the time you two were together there was never a time he stepped foot in your house.
At first it was hard on you, you used to care for Marshall all the time and you grieved the time you spent on him. But after the week or so of angst that you allowed yourself, you started doing better. You had more time to yourself and more freedom. You even started accepting your coworker’s invitation for drinks. But just when you thought that you found a good groove to yourself the phone calls started.
‘babe plz take me back’
‘I miss u’
‘Y did u block me????’
‘U r NOTHING w/o me!!!’
You were startled to say the least, but you knew him (right?) There is no way a proud person like him would cause a scene that would make him look crazy… (would he?) So imagine your surprise when you were heading out of work only to be grabbed by Marshall. You almost didn’t recognize him since usually styled hair was greasy and messy, his face which was usually pristine looked rough and there were a couple of breakouts, his clothes that he meticulously planned were nowhere to be found but instead he wore loose fitting mismatched pieces.
If you saw him first you might have been able to steer clear of him, but alas, he saw you first and grabbed your arm. “Please take me back!” He sobbed. “I feel so empty without you!” You cringed and tried pulling back your arm, “hey, let go of me. You’re the one who wanted to backstab me.” He gripped tighter, making you wince a bit, “I promise I’ll be better! I’ll pay attention to no one else but you! I’ll think of no one else but you! Look! I even deleted all my contacts!” He attempted to take out his phone with only one hand but you didn’t care if it was true. “Let go of me you fuck!” You swung your arm trying to break free, it was until a coworker saw the bind you were in and stepped in. Separating the two of you and knocking Marshall down. “Leave me alone, or I’ll call the cops next time!” You yelled at his fallen form.
Marshall looked up at you and started laughing, it was slow at first but turned maniacal quickly. “I see how it is, have fun with your new boy toy while it lasts! I’ll get you back.” He clumsily stood up and left hastily. Your co-worker asked if you were okay and  you thanked him for his help. He told you that you should probably go to the police station to make a statement but you brushed him off. Oh how stupid of you.
One particular late night after working late you were walking home, until you suddenly blacked out. You awoke to a throbbing pain in your head, vision blurry and unable to move your body freely. “H-huh?” “Welcome home darling!” Through your haze, you saw Marshall. He looked better than the last time you saw him but something wasn’t right. You suddenly realized that you were in a situation so you looked around the room and you saw pictures of you scattered everywhere from the ceilings to the walls and even some on the floor. “Where… am I?” He scoffed, “home! Do you like the pictures?” He giggled, “it wasn’t until after you left did I realize that I didn’t have enough photos of you. Which reminds me!” He took out his phone and started snapping pictures of you while in your state of being restrained and confused in an unfamiliar bed. You looked so alluring to him, so much so that it got him a little too excited that even you could see it.
“Marshall, let me go! I won’t press charges.” “Oh that’s right that you won’t press charges, cause you will never be able to! I’ve prepared this cage for you, my pretty bird. And I'm not going to let the only good thing that was a part of my life leave me... ever again.”
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kaylasficrecs · 9 months
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stupidly yours | miguel o'hara
you found your roommate stupidly annoying, from the girls he brought home, to the way he never cleans up. so why, all of a sudden, was he trying to get into your good graces? (this is a horrible summary, i didn’t really know how to explain this one.)
college roommate!miguel au. he could still be spider-man 2099 in this, but it doesn’t pertain to the plot of the fic. 
note: this was technically a request, but i think i deleted it before i knew i was going to start posting fics. sorry anon! this one's for you! also i didn't use too much spanish except for a couple of words because i hardly know any of the language (i know waaayy more french).
tw: talks of Miguel’s toxic family, language (pls let me know if there are others) 
wc: 2k 
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It’s not that you didn’t mind your roommate Miguel, but you thought about throttling him regularly. 
Between the girls he brought home and his sometimes too-brutal of honesty, you’ve thought about packing your stuff and sleeping under a bridge (not that there were many bridges in Neuvea York) instead of dealing with O’Hara on a daily. 
But instead, you got your shit together and just retaliated in other ways. 
You stopped cleaning up his shit, because sometimes he was indeed a college guy, and you were tired of being that nice of a person to do his dishes, vacuum, dust, and clean his stuff. You stopped buying groceries and making meals for both of you. Whenever he brought a girl over to his room while you were in the apartment, you blasted the High School Musical soundtracks. Yes, all three of them. You had heard doors and slam and groans of frustration in lieu of this, but Miguel never argued with you about it. 
Because that was the thing, he knew he was being a prick, but it didn’t ever seem to occur to him that it would affect the people in his life. Or that he should apologize for it. 
The last part of your ‘Miguel must be put in his place’ plan was if he was ever extra rude to you during a conversation, you would just stop talking to him. At first, it annoyed the hell out of him, he couldn’t seem to figure out why you had simply stopped talking to him at the moment. He would get even more frustrated, his brown eyes seemly burning red. But he was smart (smarter than you probably) and put it all together pretty fast. So now when those moments happen, he would apologize softly. Which in turn, surprised you. You never thought you would hear a “sorry” muttered from his lips. 
After enough apologies from O’Hara, you decided to let up on some of the parts of your plan. You stopped playing music loudly unless they were being extra loud during sex. You started cleaning up again because honestly, it was starting to bother you too. But what surprised you the most, was that Miguel met you halfway: brought over fewer girls, - and when he did, he kept it quiet - helped you with dishes, and started taking out the trash all of the time. Miguel even started cooking for the both of you. When both of you were home for dinner, you would sit on the floor in front of the small living room TV, and eat and watch a show together. 
More time spent together meant getting to know each other better. You told him about your family, and he told you about his fucked up one. You discussed likes and dislikes, learning that he couldn’t stand trashy Mexican food from fast-food places; making you swear you would never bring home Taco Bell again. 
You started to maybe feel things for him after you fell asleep on him during one of your dinner-and-a-movie nights. And it wasn't the fact that you fell asleep that made butterflies form in your gut, but that you woke up in your bed the following day. It had taken you a few minutes to piece it together through the drowsiness, but you realized he had carried you from the couch to your bed. You had been pouring yourself coffee when you came to that realization. Let’s just say most of the coffee didn’t go into the mug. 
The next time you started to blush after thoughts of Miguel was when he came from work to drive you home in the rain. After living together for so long, you got used to each other schedules, even before you started spending all this time together. So when it was raining Wednesday night after coming from the library, you weren’t nervous about Miguel knowing where you were, more just shocked. The library on campus wasn’t too far from where you guys lived, so you always walked. But you would have at least brought an umbrella if you were expecting rain. The downpour opening the doors outside made you face the fact that you would likely catch a cold. 
To the left of the doors though was Miguel's fancy sports car; rolling down a window, yelling at you to get in. 
As you shut the door, setting your backpack on the floor, you asked, “How… Why are you here?” 
“I got off work a little early. And seeing it rain, I decided picking you up on my way home was way easier than dealing with you with a cold for the next few days.” 
You looked at him aghast. Of course, he was a bit of a jerk about it, but the actual gesture made you pause. A few months ago, you would have never thought he would do this. Even now, you had never known Miguel to be this generous to anyone. 
You tried to hide your small smile as he started the drive home, but you don’t think it worked because you saw one on his face too.  
But the worst part for you was that he kept on picking you up. Week after week, Miguel would text you after he was done with work and pick you up to take you home from the library on campus (even though it really wasn’t that far of a walk). Soon after, he started dropping you off on his way to work too. 
Miguel kept up the niceties till Christmas: carrying all the groceries (now that you were back to paying for them since he cooked for you both now almost on a daily), letting you fall asleep on him, not bringing girls around, buying you coffees, opening doors, and letting you pick movies for your dinner nights. 
He made it really hard not to fall for him. 
Then Christmas time rolled around. You knew it was hard for everyone that didn’t have the best family relationships, especially in Miguel’s case where he didn’t really have anyone left that was a good human being. Finals must have also rubbed off on him, he was snappy and rude to you for the weeks leading up to the holiday. He didn’t cook and barely ate for himself. 
You gave him a pass this time, mostly because you owed it to him for being so nice to you, but also because maybe you liked him. Just a little bit. 
So you tried to cook, were patient with him, let him pick the movie, and hopefully cheered him up some days with one of your sarcastic jokes. You didn’t want to leave him alone. But come December 23rd, and you had to go home for the holidays. 
You had your suitcase all packed for the coming week, ready to say goodbye to Miguel, when he hugged you. He hugged you. He was a massive person but felt so small wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your shoulder. It felt like an atonement for all the bad things he has said or done the past few days. You wrapped your arms around his neck in gratitude, threading a hand through his hair, whispering in his ear, “Please call me. If you need anything.” 
When he finally let go, Miguel’s arms still slung loosely around your waist, you met his eyes, and reached up to smooth out the worry lines on his forehead. He leaned into your touch, so you pushed a little further and kissed his jaw, “I’ll be back after New Year’s.” 
His hands tightened around you, eyes closed, and let out a shaky breath. You couldn’t think of what more to say in the moment and didn’t want to ruin the soft glow that surrounded you both. You slowly pulled away, taking quiet breaths as you left the apartment. You desperately tried to forget about him while you were home. 
But that wasn’t going to happen, as Miguel showed up at your parents’ front door three days later. Thank goodness it was you who answered the knocking late one night, as your parents were getting ready for bed, your siblings nowhere near the door. 
“Miguel, what-” you backtracked, “are you okay?” 
“I was going to call bella. Prometo. But I just needed to see your eyes. Just for a few seconds.” 
You didn’t know what to do with that. You bit your lip and twiddled your fingers, wanting to help Miguel, truly, but you were nervous about how your parents would react to you bringing a 6’ 6” man into the home randomly. And at night. 
“I-”
He didn’t even let you get a word in, “I apologize bella, I should not have sprung upon you like this. I will just see you at the apartment in a few days.”
Before he could fully turn around, you grabbed his wrist, caressing his hand as you slotted your fingers in between. Yes, it would be hell to talk to your parents about Miguel staying, but you knew you didn’t want him to leave. “Wait just… come inside.” You pulled him in, staring up into his eyes as you reached around to close and lock the door, “Stay right and let me…  uhh… discuss with my parents, okay? But please, don’t leave, we’ll figure something out.” You gave him your best reassuring smile as you gently slid your hand from his, walking toward the back of the house where your parents were. 
Though it was one of the most awkward conversations of your life, your parents agreed to let Miguel stay the night, they could all discuss details in the morning, and formally meet him when they were wide awake. 
You were going to let Miguel sleep on your bed and you take the couch, as your house didn’t have a guest room, and he was too big for said couch, but he insisted you could share your full-sized bed, and you really didn’t want to upset him more by arguing with him at this time of night. 
You asked no questions about why he showed up at your house, just got ready for bed. He already showed up in more relaxed clothes so he could just hop right into bed. He was sound asleep by the time you got done with your shower and face care routine. Slowly slipping under the covers, you studied his face; still seeing the grimace he always wore, even in his sleep. It made you worry and smile at the same time, you wished you could ease whatever pain had caused him to come to see you in such a state. Clearly needing comfort, you brushed some hair back from his face, “Sweet dreams, Miguel.” 
Sometime during the night, you swore you felt that same softness again, his arms cradling you, his breath softly blowing your hair. But when you woke up, the side he slept on was only faintly warm, a sign that he had been gone for just only a little while; a note laid on your nightstand:
Thank you for everything last night. I just needed to escape to you from these past few days. I can explain everything when you come home. I didn’t want to wake you, you looked so peaceful I’m sorry I left. Tell your parents I’m sorry I couldn’t stay to meet them, but thank them for letting me stay in their home with their precious daughter. Happy New Year bella,
Miguel
If it weren’t for your stupid family you would rush to the apartment, or home, as Miguel had put it. 
With those words, he had confirmed it, you were stupidly in love with him. His stupidly warm eyes, his stupidly thoughtful actions, stupid full lips, stupid words (stupidly round ass), and most of all, his stupidly wonderful soul. He could pretend to be a hardass, mean, rude man to everyone but you. 
And January 2nd couldn’t come soon enough, for your stupid brain could only think about Miguel’s arms holding you tightly once again. 
©mixedficrecs 2023
thanks for reading <3 
note: i think i might do a sequel to this one, let me know if you are interested! 
511 notes · View notes
bagopucks · 5 months
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C. Caufield - Linear Progress
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✄————————————
Cole Caufield x Fem!reader
Requested✨
Word Count: 3.3k
Warning(s): anxiety, mention of depressive episode, sad!cole
These upcoming fics are all things from my notes app from last season, doctored and given a finish so I could post! Some of these are so long it’d be a shame to just delete.
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His smile barely reached his eyes. His laughter was distant and distracted. Cole, so used to keeping good posture to feel like he measured up to those around him, stood about as poorly as a pregnant mother. His gloved hands clasped in front of himself as he shifted his weight from skate to skate.
I couldn’t take pictures of him like that. People would never notice the vulnerable state he was in, but I did. He looked so nervous. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but on the ice. And I knew that’s exactly what was going through his mind, because he’d pulled all the stops that morning trying to get me to call off for him. He’d tried saying he didn’t feel good, then he tried saying he just wanted to lay in bed. Then he tried faking a headache, and he tried tricking me into thinking he had gone back to bed. By the time I got him into the car, Cole’s attitude had done a complete switch. All of a sudden it was like work was the best place on earth. We had parted ways to do our separate things, but when I came down to the ice with my camera, I could sense Cole’s discomfort from a mile away.
“You wanna hit something other than the glass, Coley?” I watched Cole through the lens of my camera. Watched the way he brushed off the chirp with a quiet chuckle and a nod. He just wanted to stay home. I should have let him. Practice was only an hour, but it certainly felt longer. Between everybody’s endless digs on the blonde, and the occasional glances in Cole’s direction from coaches, I could see his facade cracking and fading.
I didn’t capture near as many photos as I would have liked, but my boss would just have to use what the other photographers got. Surely we’d have more than enough. I tucked my camera back into its bag by the time practice ended, watching the boys leave the ice, and eventually walking toward the visitors tunnel. I stopped short though, when I heard a puck slam off the glass. I turned back to the ice, my heart sinking in my chest at the frustration on Cole’s face.
“Fucking empty net.” His voice carried through the empty arena.
This had nothing to do with the empty net in the present. It had to do with the empty net he missed one week prior. That seemed to have started his scoring drought.
“Fuck.” He spat out. My brow furrowed as he skated toward the bench, my body tensing in anticipation as he raised his stick, clearly ready to slam it off the top of the bench wall until it broke. Before he could even bring the stick down, his entire body relaxed. He found reason within his anger. Or maybe he had simply given up. I watched Cole throw the stick aside in the bench instead, saying, ‘fuck it,’ before he stomped down the tunnel toward the locker room.
He had just returned from an injury. Adjusting was normal. Relearning some things was normal. But Cole wasn’t patient with himself. He never was. I carried my camera down the separate hall, half tempted to retrieve Cole’s stick, but ultimately deciding against it. He’d be embarrassed if he knew I’d watched him lash out like that. He hated when people saw any side of him that wasn’t the usual giggly and fun side.
I stole away to my office to finish a few things before I received a message from him, trying to speed up the process of downloading photos to my computer as Cole’s face popped up on my phone screen. I quickly answered the call.
“Hey, babe-“
“I wanna go home.” So much for pleasantries, but I hadn’t expected them in the first place.
“Give me maybe.. fifteen minutes, okay?” Silence followed my request for time.
“Please.” I heard his voice echo, my brow furrowing as I glanced toward my phone.
“Are you in the bathroom?”
“I just wanna go home.” I could have sworn I heard Cole’s voice quiver.
“You can come sit in my office while you wait.”
“I’m okay.” I wanted to pinch my nose. To grab him by the shoulders and shake the stubbornness out of him.
“Why don’t you go wait in the car then?” I bit my lip as I looked back at my computer.
“‘Kay. But.. just fifteen minutes, right?”
My eyes lit up when the photos finally loaded onto the computer.
“Less than fifteen.” I answered, “I’ll be fast.”
I tried to stay true to my word, but when my boss stopped me in the hall, I knew it would be far longer than fifteen minutes. A half an hour longer to be exact. When I got out of her office, I ran as quickly as I could through the building to get to the parking lot. I felt horrible when I noticed Cole’s head lift. Our car the only one left in the players lot.
I tossed my camera in the back and climbed into the passenger seat without so much as a word. I wasn’t in trouble, but I knew Cole wasn’t thrilled.
“You said fifteen minutes.” Cole hadn’t wasted much time getting the car started and pulling out of the lot.
“I’m sorry. My boss stopped me, and- god you know how she is.”
“Talks for hours, yeah.” Cole tried to muster a chuckle. He looked so apathetic. So careless. But not in a freeing or jovial way. He simply looked drained and tired.
“What do you wanna do when we get home?” I asked, glancing out the window at the passing scenery. Christmas was just around the corner. Snow covered sidewalks and streets, and Christmas decor was up everywhere.
“I just wanna lay down.” Cole shook his head. I turned my attention to him.
“You could use a hair cut.”
“Not today.”
“Might feel good.” Laying around and doing nothing in the midst of a funk never helped anybody. As easy as it was to laze around, it usually only made one’s mental health worse.
“You can lay with me.” He was stuck on this idea. Too bad I was stuck on my own as well.
“I’ll lay with you if you let me cut your hair.”
Cole didn’t reply. He bit his lip and ignored the proposal. “I have stuff to do today anyway.” I shrugged. I wanted to be there, but if Cole didn’t let me in, there wasn’t much I could do. So if he insisted on laying around all day, I’d busy myself with cleaning, straightening up the few decorations we had yet to put out, working on Christmas cards. Anything to busy myself while he stayed miserable.
“‘Mkay.”
It was the end of our conversation until we got back to our apartment. I carried my things inside behind Cole, who kicked his shoes off and headed straight for our bedroom. I had to stop myself from following after him. Instead, I dropped my camera bag on the love seat and wandered into the dining room to grab my laptop,
He’d come around eventually. It was what I kept telling myself as I turned on some Christmas music and put the few finishing touches on our customized Christmas cards. I sang along quietly, and set my laptop aside when I finished the cards. I saved the design to show to Cole when he felt better, and shot up from the couch to make a glass of hot chocolate.
I ended up making two, and against my better judgement, I carried one down the hall for my lover.
“Cole?” I toed our bedroom door open, spotting his still body curled up under a mess of blankets. His back was turned to the door, but I could tell he had the comforter pulled over half of his face. I sighed, resting the mug on his nightstand before I placed a hand on his arm.
“Made you some hot chocolate.” I whispered, leaning over to kiss his shoulder. I didn’t know if Cole was awake or not, but the affection was needed nonetheless. I tiptoed out of our room and pulled the door shut behind myself, only to return to my own world of lonely Christmas preparation.
I spent close to two hours putting up the last of the decorations and cleaning. I saved the tiny statues of Hermey and Rudolph for the tv mantle, where they always went, but Cole loved being the one to put them up. I stared down at the statues on the coffee table, placing my hands on my hips as I’ll Be Home For Christmas came on from my laptop on the couch. The cozy atmosphere was almost perfect. I just wished Cole didn’t feel so horrible. He deserved to enjoy his holidays. Not worry them away.
I glanced back toward the hall, hearing an ear splitting shatter as if on cue.
“Cole?” I shouted, panic seizing my chest as I took off through the hallway, making a sharp turn to push our bedroom door open. Cole was out of bed, wearing nothing but boxers, holding an arm out toward the door.
“It’s fine! I’m fine! I got it!” I looked toward the floor to see the mug I’d set on his dresser in pieces. I grimaced. His favorite mug. Hot chocolate ran across the floor, and I was quick to jog into the bathroom to grab a towel.
“Here.” When I returned, I tossed the towel on the floor, covering the small puddle of liquid. “I’ll go grab something to wipe the floor down.. you start picking up glass.” I left the bedroom, going to rummage through the kitchen for my floor cleaner. When I found it, I grabbed a few paper towels as well, returning in record time.
Cole was knelt on the floor, the towel from the bathroom pushed aside as he collected glass from the floor. I noticed the sporadic and heavy rise and fall of his back, the way his chest heaved. His hair covered his eyes, and despite not being able to see his face, I knew he was upset.
“Coley.” I made my way over and knelt next to him.
“I’m almost done.” Cole’s voice quivered. I set the items in my hands down, gently resting my hand on his cheek, turning his head to face me. Cole’s eyes were wet with tears, his cheeks flushed and stained by the tracks of tears that had already fallen.
“Oh, Cole.” I kissed his forehead, shaken by the sob that escaped his lips as he set the collected glass down atop a paper towel. I sat down on the floor and pulled him in. He’d been kneeling before, but he barely thought twice about it when his body fell into my own, back pressed into my chest while I held onto him tightly.
“I’m sorry.” The words came out through broken cries, but I merely shook my head and rubbed his side with one of my hands.
“It’s okay.. everything is gonna be okay.” Cole didn’t have days like these often. Where everything bubbled over and became too much to bear. He was good at keeping himself in check. In fact, he was usually the one taking care of me on days like these. But I never missed an opportunity to assure him I was there in moments when he felt he couldn’t function. When the dark cloud looming over was simply too much to bear. I rested my chin on Cole’s shoulder, pressing occasional kisses to his body to help distract and ease his mind.
“Cole,” I whispered as he started to calm down. He wiped the tears from his cheeks and slowly turned to look at me. “Let’s fix this mess, okay? Then we can relax.” He seemed reluctant to get up, and I knew he’d sit there all day if I didn’t take initiative. “C’mon.” I directed his attention back to the glass, helping him retrieve the last few pieces before he got up to throw them away. I made quick work of cleaning the floor, wiping down any sticky spots before I had stood up to put the towel in the hamper, and throw the paper towels away. When Cole returned, he stood in the doorway, hugging himself for warmth, or maybe still out of discomfort. I turned to look at him, flashing a sad smile.
“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to..” as if I didn’t know that. As if he hadn’t already apologized. I crossed the floor to meet him in the doorway, wrapping my arms around his body. I gently rubbed his back, taking note of the tight muscles.
“It was an accident. It’s okay.” I whispered, “you wanna talk about what’s been going on?” I looked up at him, earning a quiet ‘no,’ in response.
“Cole, you were just crying. It might help some.” I tucked a lock of his long blonde hair behind his ear, then trailed my hand down his face, following his jaw.
“I just wanna lay back down.”
There it was. That constant avoidance.
“At least lay with me on the couch. All the decorations in the living room are set out.” I rubbed the small of his back, earning a careful nod. “I’m gonna grab a sweatshirt first. It’s a little cold.” I moved my arms around to his stomach, nodding and pressing a kiss to his shoulder before I slipped out of the bedroom.
There was no promise that Cole wouldn’t lay back down in our bed, but I had to trust him a little.
When I got back into the living room, I shut the lights out and plugged the Christmas tree in. I grabbed one of our Christmas blankets and laid it out on the couch, waiting for him as I placed a throw pillow at one end. I laid down and pushed the blanket aside so I could pull it over us later. I grabbed the tv remote and started sifting through channels, smiling at Cole when he finally came through the hall. He still didn’t have pants on, but his sweatshirt sleeves were pulled over his hands, and he had the plastic end of one of the strings in his mouth. As cozy as he could get. I parted my legs for him to lay down between them, and he did with little to no hesitation. Cole’s back rested against my chest, his head finding a home near my shoulder. I wrapped my legs around his own and swiftly covered up with the blanket.
“You finished decorating without me?” I heard him sniff quietly, still recovering from the crying fit he had minutes ago.
“It had to get done.” I rested a hand on his head, gently combing my fingers through his hair. “I left Rudolph for you.” I gestured toward the coffee table with my free hand.
“Are we still visiting my family over Christmas?”
“Absolutely, Cole.” I smiled. “You’ve been looking forward to that since November.” When the silence settled between us, I moved my free hand to rest atop one of his own. I dragged my thumb across his knuckles, traced the lines in his hand, flipped it over to massage his palm.
“I just want it to be over.. ya know?” Cole’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“What do you want to be over?” I matched his volume, continuing to rub his hand and play with his hair. One little change might throw him off.
“I just wanna be good again.” He sighed, turning his head against my shoulder to look up at the ceiling.
“At hockey?”
“Yeah. I can’t even hit the net.” Cole closed his eyes, trying to hide his frustrations.
“Give it time, Cole. It’s all a part of recovery. It’s not a linear thing.” I whispered. “And we’re gonna go visit your family in a week. You should be focused on that. I know you wanna be back on the ice, but if you rush you could hurt yourself.”
“What if they don’t resign me?” My movement halted. I lifted my head from the pillow to peek down at him.
“Why would they do that?”
“Because I can’t play.”
“Cole.” I squeezed his hand. “You’re gonna recover. You’ll get back to playing hockey. Your skill hasn’t just gone away.” I could understand his concerns to a degree, but I knew these worries were all in his head. “If they decide to ship you off it’s because they’re morons. It’ll have nothing to do with your recovery. Injuries happen, and you can’t control them.” His silence was deafening. Sometimes I hated how hard Cole thought about things.
“I really like it in Montreal.”
“Cole.” A tension accompanied my tone. One that made his eyes fall toward the opposite end of the couch. “You can’t trap yourself in this endless cycle of negative thoughts.” I began to play with his hair once again. “What if they do want you? What if you recover so well that they decide to sign you for more years? What if you get a better contract than the last? What if this injury turns you into a superstar?” Cole shifted against me, clearly displeasured by the combative tactic I was using.
“Okay?”
“Cole. Anything can happen. Good or bad. You can’t control it.. so let’s just not think about it. It’s tearing you apart.”
“Because it’s my future! Don’t you get it?” Cole sat up, careful not to hurt me. I was quick to sit up as well, folding my legs criss-crossed on the couch as I watched his head fall into his hands. His once calm breathing began to pick up once again.
“The future isn’t going to sneak up on you Cole! The future is a second from now. A day, three days. It’s a fucking week or a month. It’s not going to come and assault you in an alleyway one day. You’re thinking too much. The physician, physical therapist, your coaches, they’re all working with you. They’re all making sure you get back on the ice. And they’ve been telling you that you’re recovering well. You’re doing great! Why don’t you see that?” I was impatient as I waited for an answer. Waited for Cole to look at me, or show some sign of understanding.
“I don’t know.” His voice quivered again. His chest heaved with a deep and quiet cry. He desperately needed that week off. He needed that week with his family. With his mother and his dog. Olive was the best at cheering Cole up.
I slid across the couch, draping one of my arms over his back as Cole cried quietly.
“It’s okay to be worried,” I whispered, resting my other hand on his thigh. “But you can’t let it consume you. You have to talk to people.” I didn’t know how we got there, but I knew it was because of his own stubborn behaviors. If he simply would have spoken to me before, we could have worked this out. And even despite knowing that, I couldn’t be mad. I couldn’t blame Cole for whatever reason he chose not to communicate, because I knew he didn’t do it to spite me or hurt me for not understanding. “You can’t let yourself get here, Cole. This constant state of panic won’t help anything.” I pressed a kiss to his head. “Things are going to turn out okay, but you need to allow yourself to see that. Please… let me help you see that.” I felt his body lean into my own, and I wrapped my arms around him once again. “There’s nothing to worry about.” I whispered, “take it one day at a time.”
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213 notes · View notes
shdo-xplosion · 1 year
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spaghetti straps - r. shidou ࿐
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warnings: 2.4k; fem-bodied reader, coercion, reader wants to fuck more than she’d like to admit, shidou is a little annoying, shidou can lift and hold you (he stronk athlete), dirty talk, semi-public sex, a little plot, p in v, creampie
note: hi! (✿◠‿◠) my first shidou fic (finally) and my contribution to @saintshiba’s sundress szn collab! truly hope everybody enjoys my take on him cause i am so obsessed with him. banner manga cap colored by moi! plspls let me know what you think of my writing! feedback means a lot (≧◡≦)
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You aren’t used to wearing things other than your typical track shorts and t-shirts, never one for fashion or dressing up, though you admire anyone who enjoys that kind of stuff.
But it’s summer, and it’s hot, and you’re at a beach house with some friends. Pulling a cotton shirt and shorts on and off over a wet bathing suit is simply not it, so for this weekend you’ve decided to pack sundresses instead of your usual attire.
It’s been 2 days and all the stares you’ve been getting from the guys are still weird, most of confusion and/or surprise, but there are a couple friends, specifically one infuriating, blond-haired insect of a man, who is very obvious in the way he looks at you, magenta eyes half-lidded, salacious smirk stretching across his lips. It’s maddening, made even worse by the fact that he already knows what you’re hiding under your little sundress.
“The yellow suits you,” Shidou purrs in your ear in the kitchen, and you feel one of his fingers wiggle underneath the thin shoulder strap of your bikini top. “Goes nice with the purple suit.”
“Too bad none of it’s for you,” you grumble, trying not to pay him much attention.
He isn’t so much your ex-boyfriend as much as your ex-mistake, a fuck buddy you had the misfortune of catching feelings for only for him to let you down gently. Or, as gently as someone like Shidou could manage.
I still wanna fuck you, though, he had told you thoughtlessly. It’s better than nothing for you, right?
You had immediately cut things off, both hurt and offended that he just assumed his dick would be enough to keep you around. That you were so desperate for him that you would just take what you could get.
No, you hadn’t quite reached that level of infatuation.
You’re still a little bitter about it, a little embarrassed, but you’re also irritated, especially since he insists on coming onto you even now.
“Who’s it for then, hm?” he asks, bending down enough for his breath to hit your neck. It gives you goosebumps. It also makes you squirm away from him.
“For me. ‘Cause it’s easy and breezy.”
“And beautiful… cover girl,” he quotes. You fight not to laugh. “But really, the dresses look good on you. You should let me take some pictures…” he wiggles his eyebrows. “More for my private collection.”
You make a face of disgust. “Ugh, you haven’t deleted those yet?” The thought of him having all kinds of lewd photos of you both disturbs and excites you. Does that mean he still uses them?
“Why would I delete such quality content?”
Narrowing your eyes at him, you threaten, “if you post those anywhere, I’ll kill you.”
Shidou grins crookedly. “Kinky.”
With an exasperated huff, you walk away.
~*~
Even with crazy, windblown hair and covered in sweat, you can still sense Shidou watching you. It makes your already heated skin burn even hotter.
Currently you’re situated under an umbrella, just scrolling on your phone while all the guys play a game of beach volleyball. If it can even be called that. They should definitely stick to soccer.
You aren’t surprised when Shidou plops down next to you, dusting up some sand so that it powders your bare thighs.
“White today,” he comments, picking at the hem of your short dress.
All you offer is a noncommittal, “mm,” gritting your teeth at the feeling of his fingertips grazing your skin.
“Makes you look innocent,” he continues. “Which we both know is a lie.”
“Shidou, please drop it. Admire from afar if you have to, but—”
“Miss when you used to call me Ryu.” He nuzzles into your shoulder, inhaling deeply, and when you try to shrug him off, you feel his teeth against your skin. He doesn’t bite hard, but it’s enough to anchor him to you.
“Ryu!” you squeal, shoving his face away.
“Just like that,” he grins before mimicking you ‘Ryu’. “Used to scream my name like that when I’d fuck you real good.”
“God, you are insufferable!”
He’s also turning you on, much to your disappointment. Hand slowly slipping under your dress, a small nibble to your earlobe.
“I know all your spots, baby. Just give in. You know you want to.” He’s using that seductive voice that always makes your breath quicken and your eyes dilate. Everything is brighter even with your sunglasses.
“See, you’re already spreading your legs for me.”
He’s right. Your knees aren’t pressed together anymore, leaving a gap between your thighs.
“There are people around, Ryuusei,” you tell him sternly, a last ditch effort to spur his advances.
You aren’t the least bit surprised when his only counter is a petulant, “so?”
His hand slides up further until his fingers brush against your covered pussy, and you bite your lip, ashamed that you’ve let him get to you like this.
“Sand,” you whine. “Don’t want…”
He hums in consideration then turns onto his back, rolling and propelling himself straight to his feet in one fluid motion. Annoying.
“To the showers, then,” he says, pulling you up.
He ignores your mumbling as he leads you to the little shower, on the beach for the purpose of rinsing sand off of sticky bodies. A little blue curtain is all that will block you from view. You’re supposed to keep your bathing suits on after all.
The water pressure isn’t strong, but it is enough to get the sand off both of you. You swear out loud as you pull your bottoms off. The dress is staying on; there’s no way you’re getting entirely naked. Shidou, on the other hand, shamelessly pushes his trunks all the way off, letting them pool on the wooden plans right next to yours.
You gasp when he suddenly spins you around, finding the strings of your top and tugging them loose.
“Get this shit off.”
He yanks the material over your head, turning you to face him again, and groans when he looks down at your chest. With your white dress entirely soaked, your hard nipples show through the sheerness. Shidou immediately starts groping you, his head falling back like he’s already on the verge of cumming just from playing with your tits.
It feels good, his palms rubbing over your sensitive buds before he pinches each one. You’d rather skip the foreplay, though, eager to have something inside you while also nervous about being caught.
To move things along you reach between your legs, running your middle finger between your folds and hating yourself for how wet you are. Like you’d said the other day, water makes a terrible lube, but if you’re already ridiculously slick, it doesn’t really matter.
You slip two fingers into your hole and scissor them apart, well aware that it’d be unwise to take Shidou without any prep. His cock is too pretty, something to be proud of, and he is. It’s thick and long, fat mushroom shaped head perfect for dragging against your walls.
“Yeah, you want it now, don’t ya?” he teases.
“Don’t push your luck.” It’s meant to be a warning, but you’re too breathless for it to have any weight.
Shidou abandons your chest in order to guide your hand away from yourself, replacing it with his own and fucking you with his longer fingers. He hikes one of your legs up, holding it to his hip, and as he stretches you out, he ruts his pelvis forward.
“Okay, I’m good,” you tell him. “I’m good, I’m ready.”
“Oh? Baby girl all cock hungry now?”
“Ryuuu,” you whine, grinding down on his hand.
“Only ‘cause you’re making such pretty sounds for me.”
He grabs your other leg, hoisting you up with the strength gained from years of dedicated workouts. You shift in his grasp until you feel the tip of his cock rub against your cunt. The amount of times the two of you have fucked, you know each others bodies well, and it’s almost second nature for you to guide him into your hole without the use of your hands.
Your mouth hangs open as he slides inside, the muscles in Shidou’s arms straining as he lowers you on his cock. You’re relying on him entirely. He’ll be in control as he supports you, and you’ll be completely helpless.
He doesn’t ask if you’re ready, if you’ve braced yourself, just starts bouncing you up and down. His fingers dig into the fat of your thighs, definitely creating bruises, and you steady yourself by tangling fingers in his hair. He’s so fucking hot like this, water running down his toned frame, blonde strands plastered to his face.
The way that you’re gripping his hair pushes his face into your tits, and Shidou groans like a porn star, lapping up the droplets that cover your chest.
Short moans are forced out if you with every bounce. Hn, hn, hn until Shidou starts moving you more aggressively and your jaw drops. Ah, ah, ah.
“Missed this sweet pussy,” Shidou pants. “Take my dick so good. Think she missed me too.”
You’re not a huge fan of him personifying your literal vagina, but you’re too far gone to chastise him for it. In fact, you agree, nodding and huffing, “I do, I do…”
His thrusts are shallow because of the position, but he still feels so good as he bullies your soft, gummy walls. The way you’re wrapped around him has your hard clit rubbing against his pelvis, the coarse hairs at the base of his cock beginning to rub you raw in a delicious way. You always did like a little pain with your pleasure, and Shidou is amazing at delivering just that.
“Really should open this curtain. Let everyone see how gorgeous you look getting fucked like this.”
“Don’t you dare,” you gasp.
“You sure? You don’t wanna put on a show for the guys? I bet they’d all get jealous.”
“Ryu, please!”
He bites the top of one of your tits then relents, rolling his striking eyes. “Fine.” His thick eyelashes are dripping with water, so pretty. “But only if you cum for me.”
You wouldn’t be able to if he hadn’t been fucking you so perfectly, cockhead massaging your g-spot, clit now overstimulated.
“Think you can do that for me, sweetness?”
You nod. “Are… are you close too?”
“‘’m always close when I’m fucking you,” he tells you. “Just looking at you gets me hard.”
Vulgar but flattering.
“You want me inside? Stuff this pussy full of cum?”
“Nnng, pleeease.”
You shouldn’t let him, shouldn’t reward him after how much he’s annoyed you on this vacation. But you love the feeling of him dripping out of you, thick and warm, enough to spill down your thighs. If you weren’t on birth control, you would never. As it is…
“Alright, cum for me then,” he commands. “Wanna feel your cunt milk me.”
Heat spreads from your pussy to the place between your hips, pooling into your tummy and traveling to your toes.
“Oh god, Ryu,” you sob, “I’m… don’t stop…”
He spreads his legs, squatting slightly so that his thighs can support some of your weight as he quickly rocks back and forth, his fat cock pistoning in and out of your spasming hole.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
“m’gonna blow,” Shidou huffs. “Gonna fill you up… take my cum, baby, take all of it.”
It’s a subtle sensation, him spilling inside of you. You can’t feel every individual rope of cum, but you can feel your pussy getting fuller and fuller, stretching you even further. And then, you can feel it begin to leak out of you, coating Shidou’s cock as he pulls out until only his tip remains inside of you.
“Still as good as I remember,” he remarks, lifting you until he slips out of you before setting you back on wobbly legs.
He’s right, unfortunately. The best lay you’ve ever had.
“It was… nice,” you mumble regretfully. “Glad we’re already in a shower.”
“Convenient. Since you always get so messy,” he smirks.
“Because you make me messy.”
“I take that as a compliment.”
You rinse off the slimy fluid dripping down the insides of your legs, retrieve your bathing suit from the ground. The bottoms are easy enough to wiggle back into, but you have to ask Shidou for help with your top.
“You look so good without it, though, he says, but when you cast him a glare, he concedes. “Fine.”
As he ties it back around you, you can’t help but ask, “is it just the sundresses that did it for you? You like them that much?”
“I mean, I do like little dresses like this,” he confirms, trailing his hands down your ribs and pulling you back into him. “But anything you wear gets my dick hard. My jerseys, pajamas, your boring t-shirts n’ shit.”
“Boring but comfy.”
“And still sexy cause you’re the one wearing ‘em.”
Your stomach flutters in a familiar way, butterflies accompanied by dread. “Careful. You’re starting to sound awfully sweet, Ryu.”
You feel him shrug, his arms locked around you and his lips pressed to the skin behind your ear.
“What can I say? I missed you.”
You can’t even formulate a response to that, refusing to get your hopes up. The vacation will be over soon, and Shidou will go back to being a fuckboy. You’re not about to let him hurt you again.
So you shake your head and step out of his arms then bend down to grab his swim trunks off the ground.
“Put your pants back on,” you sigh, and, taking a page out of his book, you leave him with a casualness that you hope will mess with his head in the coming days. Just like this whole encounter is sure to mess with yours.
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