Dean shut the fuck up he is watching hi herbert (with dedication to @ladycavalier bc she was very nice to me today lsmfosmfkns)

idea, but idk if you take ideas

reader gets turned on by hoon’s vampire like features, and convinces him to rp as one while they’re fucking

mdni

tags: femreader, vampire kink, mentions of the twilight movies, hoon is jealous obv.

*not proofread will do later

wc: 1,2k

smut tags under the cut

i added my own lil spin on it annonie~ mainly cause i’ve been rewatching twilight rndjsoskdndknsla

smut tags: biting kink, implications of sex, dirty talk, chest groping, etc

he doesn’t know how many times you watched those stupid twilight movies. all he knew is that you fawned over some guy in those films with the most victorian name ever. he wasn’t your type and sunghoon was sure of it, why would he be your type when he; your boyfriend, was right there? nah, he didn’t like that you thought of any other men than him. even if he was fictional.

you had all the books too, along with whatever smutty literature he saw on that well dusted shelf in your house. you lived in those dirty fantasies when he was right there. the way you’d kick your feet and giggle while watching those movies. it really pissed him off, it was all imaginary, pretend. it was stupid for him to be so jealous, but god there was one thing he hated the most about your little hyper fixation…

well, the thing is sunghoon doesn’t want to come off as a pissy bitch. he’ll happily go along with whatever endeavors you put him through. it’s just when you make him watch the same few movies with you again, he felt his ego shrink every passing second spent staring at robert pattinson play a vampire. especially when your comments consisted of comparisons between him and edward whats-his-face’s character.

“look at him hoon, he’s like all sparkly in the sun, n’ he has like this mad gaze.” Your eyes pan over to your boyfriend, watching him stare at the tv blankly, in a boredom induced daze.

he’s tuning out what you’re saying, because well, it makes him feel somewhat inadequate. it’s so rare for him to feel this way. he’s so self assured, maybe even a little egotistical sometimes. how can he not be? you yourself loaded up his little brain with compliments and ideas. saying how he’s the man of your fucking dreams, or the way your body contorted in different ways, becoming helpless when he did so little as touching you. hell yeah, you made him feel so damn special.

with his brows furrowed at the screen, he sees your odd stare from the corner of his eye. why do anything to reassure you of what you were thinking in that moment? he knows you, he can practically read your mind. before diverting your attention back to the screen a scoff leaves your mouth. call him petty or whatever you want, he just wants to get through watching this god forsaken movie for the millionth time without his brain frying.

sunghoon is so ridged. his arms are crossed, and he’s like, all stiff. whatever, you can deal with it. although it’s frustrating that he’s so oblivious.

you find yourself scooting closer, leaning and commenting on the movie. with each sentence you say, you can feel his dreary attitude loom over. it’s given, you’ve forced him to death watch your silly little movies to the point where he himself can recite each word.

“he’s like, —i don’t know. like can you imagine? getting puncture wounds, and hickeys at the same—“

that’s where sunghoon draws the line.

“can you shut up?”

dang. he was livid. you have right to your own thoughts but to think like that? when he’s right there? when he can well rip off your panties and fuck you the way this guy can’t because it’s all speculative? all you had to do was let him, just ask and he’ll deliver. you know it.

but then again, you boyfriend is as dense as concrete and dumb as bricks sometimes. guess you’d have to give him a nudge, a hint too probably.

“i mean, can you imagine what’s it like to be a vampire?”

you’ve practically told him what you wanted, and he still has that red cloudy look of jealousy with somewhat of a frown on his face and his overgrown bangs shading his eyes. if he wasn’t upset, you’d tell him how cute he looks right now. how dumb he is, is also what you’d tell him. then again you weren’t exactly being straightforward.

with your question slipping in one ear and out the other, he just tunes you out. yeah it’s pathetic he feels so strongly about something so meaningless, could he help it though? he was insane about you.

your eyes darken as you grab the remote, and thank goodness you turned it off. sunghoon finds you sliding on of your legs over his thighs as you take a seat. you gaze into his eyes, he looks annoyed. he’s suppressing the urge to just fuck the stupid crush you had on that twilight vampire out of you. it makes you laugh at how blind he is. nevermind, you probably had to spell it out for him.

“you can do that. you can bite me here, and here-“

you drag your two fingers indicating where he could, and his breath hitches. it’s like all his senses are tingly, and piercing. his ears are ringing, with the rush of adrenaline and the newfound excitement he had. just hearing you describe what you wanted him to do.

you saw his jaw hang slack, as you merely told him what you wanted. tracing your fingers down your abdomen and to your thighs, you tap on the fleshy inner part.

“you can bite here too.”

his hands grab your hips, he gets it now. he slides a hand up your shirt holding your chest. your mind drives him crazy. his touch sends shivers down your spine.

“here too?” he asks asks, so politely.

it makes you heat up, and become more wet than your imagination allowed. when you thought of him like the cold blooded undead he resembled so much, it made you infatuated with the idea of it. the idea of him. how could he not see it? when you drew comparisons that surely pointed towards his own features that you loved so much.

his pretty skin glows in the dim light of your living room unlike of that portrayed in the movie. he’s real, and right here.

“didn’t you ever think, perhaps..” you say it so sweetly as you feel his hand roam around your body.

before you can finish your sentence, your breath is cut short. your back is now against the cushions of the couch, and his arms trap you beneath him. sunghoon wonders how he got so lucky, to have someone like you to show him all the ways he can make you wet. your so sick and twisted, not for your little fantasy you wanted him to indulge in, but the fact you didn’t just tell him straight up. he ought to punish you.

he’ll let it slide though. partially because he feels his cock twitch restrained by his pants, and because he’s so willing to do what you ask of him. he knows this is the just the beginning, and honestly he’ll have fun woh it. so with his lips ghosting your neck, and his hot breath up against your ear he asks you a question.

“tell me what else you want me to do as your vampire. sweetheart”

copyright @vamph00n 2024

little bit personal but i’ve gone through lots of weight fluctuations in my life and no matter what size i am, summer is always hard for me.

which is why i cannot stop thinking about being ghost’s partner through summer.

we already know that he’s a man of few words, prefers to observe more than anything. so he really doesn’t miss the meticulous way that you plan out your outfits.

shorts have to be a certain length, shirts have to be at least long enough to hit your hips and sleeves long that are up to mid bicep. hell, he’s even seem you choose to wear pants all summer instead of even attempting shorts. too anxious over how you’ll be perceived to let yourself enjoy a nice warm breeze on your legs.

he asks you once if you’re warm, approaching the conversation the best way he knows how, only to have you laugh and tell him that the pants just hold you better. don’t need to give people a reason to comment on your appearance. he nods and you seem happy that he’s happy with your response.

but he’s not. listen, simon’s not really one to jump to defend someone’s ego from being bruised. god knows the team rags on johnny too often for him to pretend otherwise. but this? nah, this is different.

he’s all too familiar with the way bodies react and absorb the shock and trauma of war. has seen soldiers of all shapes, sizes, identities tank hits like no one’s business. there’s absolutely nothing he despises more than for the untrained, ill informed cretins offering opinions on someone else’s body. specially if it’s ever directed at you.

he’ll never say this though. at least not outloud. though, his actions do speak for themselves.

small pats on your hips as he passes by you. wrapping his arm around your lower belly instead of your waist, you try to swat at him but he just pulls you back into him. insisting that he lays on you when you’re stretched on the couch, dropping kisses on your clothed belly while his hands draw patterns on your plush thighs. if he’s feeling cheeky he’ll sink his teeth into them just to get a little squeal out of you.

even in public he doesn’t ease up. pulls you into his lap in front of your friends, knows you love it despite your protests. lounging out on a patch of grass along the walking trail, he pulls you closer to him and has one of your legs draped over his. massaging the fat there as you chatter about nonsense.

idk simon riley just really loves you and loves the body that keeps you alive and feeds your personality.

Presents of Mind

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Warnings: smut, angst

Word Count: 5.2K+

A/N: Do wizards have grad school? What comes after Hogwarts? Also idk why but its canon to me that Sirius walks around naked

“Why are you moping?” Harry asked you, poking your arm lightly as he sat down on the couch next to you. 

“I’m not moping.” You sighed and set your book down. 

“You are. You’ve been moping since you got that letter last night.” 

“That was my mom,” you sighed again, turning your body fully so you were facing Harry, “she’s going to the United States for Christmas to visit my brother and his wife and their new baby. It’s just going to be too crazy with the newborn so she wants me to stay with my weird Uncle Radolophus for the holidays. I told her I’d be fine here since I have about a mountain of work to finish for my advisor but she doesn’t want me to be alone.”

“Why don’t you stay with me for Christmas? This will be the first Christmas with my dad since my mom started dating Snape.” Harry had a disgusted look on his face. In Harry’s final year at Hogwarts, his parents announced they were getting divorced and his mother moved out of his house a few months later. Professor Snape had become even more insufferable as he tried to win Lily’s affection and luckily for everyone, Lily had waited until after Harry had been settled at university for his first year of a graduate program to start dating Snape. Harry had practically lost his mind and spent several weeks holed up in your shared apartment and you had to draw him out with chocolate frogs and butterbeer. 

“Are you sure? Your dad won’t mind?” 

“Nah, he’s nesting big time. He’s cooking a whole giant dinner and it’s going to be just me, Sirius, and Remus.” Harry shrugged.

“It won’t be weird? Me staying in your childhood home?” You asked, thinking about seeing Harry’s childhood bedroom. 

“No, no, my dad rented a house in Cornwall. It’s a little tradition that him and his friends have. Come on! It’ll be fun. Cornwall at Christmas with my best friend. Snow on the beach!”

“Alright. I’ll come.” You nodded.  

You and Harry had been friends since first year but you had strangely never met and had barely even seen Harry’s father. Harry’s mother had been more involved in all the school things and you supposed that’s why Lily and Severus had grown close again. It wasn’t that James was absent, quite the opposite, he was almost always at Quidditch tournaments and of course took Harry to and from Kings Cross every September but you just never seemed to catch him for more than a few moments since first year. You had heard from Hermione and Ginny, however, that apparently the man was supposed to be drop dead gorgeous. 

“I’m leaving after my exam tonight. Meet you back here at seven?” Harry asked, getting up and stuffing his textbook into his bag. As Harry got ready to leave you heard a knock at your door. You got up off the couch to answer it and let Hermione and Ron in.  They were bickering, as they usually were, and settled down in yours and Harry’s apartment like it was their own. 

“Ron thinks that a vacuum cleaner is an appropriate Christmas gift for his parents.” Hermione sighed, pouring herself a cup of coffee while Ron flopped down on the couch next to you.

“It is! Mum loves to clean and dad’ll love that its a muggle invention.” Ron said, grabbing a throw pillow of the couch and burying his face in it. 

“Your mother is a person beyond the face that she’s your mother. Why don’t you think of a gift that fits one of her interests?”

“She hasn’t got any interests!” Ron groaned and removed the pillow slightly to check his watch, “Harry let’s go! We got to be at the lecture hall in twenty minutes!” 

“I’m coming! God, you two are so lucky you’re done with exams.” Harry said, shaking his head at you and Hermione. 

“Oh Harry! Molly wanted me to ask if you’re coming to spend Christmas with the Weasleys?” Hermione said, finally taking her place next to you on the couch with her warm cup of coffee. 

“No. I’m spending it with Dad this year. Plus, Ginny isn’t even going to be there, she’ll still be touring with the Cannons.”

“You don’t want to come to your best friend’s Christmas because your girlfriend won’t be there? We were friends before you even noticed Ginny!” Ron said, mouth open in shock. 

“Ron, I’m spending Christmas with my father. You can bear Christmas with your own girlfriend and family.” 

“Ugh, my family,” Ron sighed, “do you want to come?” He asked you. 

“Spending it with Harry.” You shrugged. Harry rolled his eyes then looked at you on the couch. “We’re heading out! See you when we get back.”

You waved and then turned back to Hermione after you heard the door shut. 

“So I’m spending Christmas with Harry.” You said. 

“Oh my God. Have you seen Harry’s dad?” She asked excitedly. 

“You know I haven’t! When was the last time you saw him?” 

“I got tea with Professor Lupin a few weeks ago and Harry’s dad stopped by his flat to drop off his broom. The divorce is serving him well, let me tell you. He looks fantastic.” Hermione grinned. 

“I don’t remember the last time I saw you this excited about Ron,” you joked gently. 

“Ron and I have been together for almost five years now,” Hermione said with a bored shrug, “He gets to ogle Fleur and I get to ogle Harry’s dad. As long as we come back to each other there’s no problem.”

“Okay,” you laughed, “I get it. But isn’t this a little weird? That’s Harry’s dad. He’s our best friend.” 

“Talk to me after you see him.” 

You thought about Hermione’s words long after she left your apartment. You had a small bag packed and you were fiddling around waiting for Harry to come back. You practiced transfiguring different objects in your apartment into different animals. You figured you had to stop, however, when you transfigured your fireplace into a dragon and it took a few more seconds than you thought it would to transfigure it back. Your walls were a little soot covered but you were up on a chair trying to get the soot off the ceiling when Harry got back. 

“What are you doing?” He asked with a surprised chuckle. 

“Uh, had a little scuffle with a dragon.” You said sheepishly. 

“Transfiguring the fireplace again?” He gave you a knowing look. 

“How was your exam?” You asked, getting off the chair and pushing it back towards the kitchen table. 

“It was alright. I’m ready to have a drink and not think about school for the next few weeks.” Harry said, setting his book bag down and grabbing his traveling bag. 

“Yeah, real smart of us to go from Hogwarts to uni to grad school without taking a breath.” You rolled your eyes and grabbed your own bag, threading your free hand into Harry’s and waiting for him to apparate.

You stumbled onto a stretch of beach with a large manor that overlooked the water. 

“So this is where we’re spending Christmas? I knew you came from money but I had no idea you were this well off. Sure you’re happy with Ginny?” You said, grabbing Harry’s cheek teasingly. 

“Shove off,” Harry rolled his eyes and led you to the front door. The manor was cute, comfy, and warm. It was more chic than the Weasley home, with newer furniture and more modern decor, but it was still homey. It smelled like warm butterbeer and cinnamon and you could hear casual conversation in the sitting room. Harry walked into the sitting room and you took in the two men who were sitting in there. One of the men was familiar to you, your old defense against the dark arts professor Remus Lupin and the other man was around the same age, with longer dark hair, a chiseled jawline and cheekbones, and a smattering of tattoos that were visible on his chest through his thin shirt. That couldn’t have been Harry’s father…could it? He was beautiful. But he didn’t really look like Harry and everyone was always telling Harry that he was the spitting image of his father.

“Hello,” you said, greeting the two men.

“Ah! There’s my favorite student.” Remus said, standing up and giving you a quick, respectful hug. 

“This is my godfather, Sirius Black.” Harry introduced you to the attractive man, Sirius, who stretched out his hand to you after giving Harry a tight hug. 

“Pleasure to meet you.” He winked at you and you fought down a blush. 

“So where’s my dad at?” Harry asked, flinging himself down on the couch and holding his arm out so you could sit down next to him. You obliged, snuggling up against Harry’s warm body and looking at the two men on the opposite couch. 

“He ran out to buy a few things you for you and your friend. He wanted to make the place feel as inviting as possible and make biscuits for the both of you.” Sirius said with an eyeroll. 

“How’s he been. You know, since it all with Mum and Snape?” Harry asked. Sirius and Remus exchanged a look before Remus shrugged his shoulders and exhaled deeply, his fingers rubbing his temples,

“It’s been hard. Have you talked to your mum recently?”

“No. Not really. She knows how I feel about her and Snape. We’ve gotten tea a few times since but she knows that I wanted to spend Christmas with Dad.” Harry said with a head shake. You felt a little awkward, like you were intruding on a private moment between Harry and his uncles, but you didn’t say anything, just stared at your hands. 

“I have no idea what she sees in old Snivellus.” Sirius rolled his eyes and earned a slap on the chest from Remus.

“Sirius!”

“Come on, you think so too,” Sirius rolled his eyes at Remus, “You hated him just as much when you were teaching as we did when we were at school.”

“Even so-” Remus started to rebut but you heard the sound of the front door shut and you were sure that James was finally home. He entered the sitting room and you had to remind yourself to breathe. He was just as gorgeous as Hermione and Ginny had described. He was tall, with dark hair and eyes and those glasses. He had an easy smile and was muscular the way that Quidditch players were but he also had a distinguished dusting of silver in his dark hair. He immediately bound to Harry and hugged him tightly, his bicep pressing up against your own on the couch. He then pulled away from Harry and focused his attention on you. 

“I’m sorry. Strangely, in the entire time you’ve been close friends with Harry we haven’t really made each other’s acquaintance. I’m James.” James wrapped you in a close hug. 

“Hi! It’s great to meet you,” you nodded, not exactly hating the feeling of his body on yours. 

“So, I thought we would have a little Shepard’s pie if that’s all right with you, love?” James asked Harry. It was clear that he doted on Harry and you thought it was very precious. You had seen the way that Lily had doted on Harry and while that was all well and good it was different from the way that James was doting and it was refreshing and beautiful. You smiled at the duo as you watched them. 

“Yeah, Dad, sounds great.” Harry grinned up at his father. James touched Harry’s cheek affectionately and got up to head back into the kitchen. Remus and Harry got up to help James and you were going to get up too but Sirius sat down on the couch next to you and grinned at you with that crocodile grin he was so good at. 

“So, darling, do you have any connection to the honorable House of Black?” Sirius asked you, his fingers tracing a shape on your arm. 

“No. I don’t believe I do.” You responded. Sirius grinned even wider.

“Perfect.” He said, showing off his white teeth. 

“Get off her, Padfoot!” James called from the kitchen. Sirius waved at James’ general direction and stretched his arms over your shoulders. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have daddy issues, do you?”

“Are you asking me that because you want to know if I’m into older men?”

“So are you?” Sirius leaned in closer to you so your nose was brushing against his. 

“I had a great relationship with my Dad. Right up until he died.”

“Oh,” Sirius’ smile dropped, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright,” you said, waving him off, “That’s all to say that I definitely have some daddy issues.” 

“Silver lining, then.” Sirius said, smiling. You wouldn’t have been surprised if in the following moments, Sirius was going to close the distance between you both and kiss you on the Potter’s couch but Remus walked in and threw an oven mitt at Sirius. 

“Sirius! You whore!” Remus said, feigning anger and walking over to punch Sirius in the shoulder. 

“Ow! Get off me, you’re cramping my style.” Sirius glared at Remus.

“You know what else should cramp your style? The fact that you’ve been dating me since sixth year.” Remus rolled his eyes. 

“So I’m not allowed to live?” Sirius shot back. You were laughing as you watched the match unfold and it looked like Remus was gearing up to shoot another smart remark back but Harry walked back in and said, 

“Dad says dinner is ready and for you two to kiss and make up.” Harry stretched his hand out to help you off the couch. You all took seats at the table. 

“If you wanted to watch us make out, Prongs, you should’ve just said so.” Sirius teased. James stuck his tongue out in return. You took a moment to imagine what it would be like to have that tongue all over your body. You promptly shook your head to rid yourself of the thought. 

“So darling,” James turned to look at you and fought the urge to blush, “Harry told me your last name is Siphera. Any relation to Jack Siphera?”

“Uh yes,” you nodded, pushing around a pea on your plate, “he was my father.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. He was an excellent dueler. A strong member of the Order, you remember him don’t you?” James asked Remus and Sirius. 

“Jack was a very kind man,” Remus smiled.

“Siphera…I didn’t know that he had passed. How did he die, if you don’t mind my asking.” Sirius asked. Remus was shaking his head but Sirius didn’t seem to notice. 

“He was murdered by Bellatrix when she tried to escape Azkaban.” You responded. 

“Bellatrix? My cousin Bellatrix? Bellatrix Lestrange?” Sirius asked, dropping his fork with a clatter.

“Do you know very many other Bellatrixes?” Harry asked. You started laughing and so did Harry until the two of you were both doubled over and gasping for breath.

“Alright,” James said, looking at you two warily, “I bought a bottle of firewhisky for us all, raise your glasses.” James poured everyone a generous helping of firewhisky and then raised another bottle of dark liquor for shots. 

“To many holidays together.” Sirius grinned at you as you clinked glasses. You tipped your head back and took the drink, swallowing against the harsh burn in your throat. A small droplet escaped past the side of your glass and made its way down your chin and dropped between your breasts. You became acutely aware of the eyes that were on you. You rubbed your mouth harshly and took a large sip of firewhisky, averting your eyes to look at Harry. His cheeks were a bit pink from the shot and he shot you a large, easy smile. 

The drinking continued and the evening ended with you and Harry stumbling into a free bedroom and falling asleep. You and Harry had often slept in the same bed, it started when you were in second year and you had both stayed up late revising for potions. 

When you rose the next morning, your mouth was painfully dry and your head was pounding. You nudged Harry lightly and he groaned in response. 

“What?”

“I need water.” You croaked. 

“So get water.” Harry moaned, putting his head into the pillow and trying to wrap the edges of the pillow around his ears. 

“I’m too hungover,” you shook your head. 

“Fine, open your mouth I’ll use the aguamenti spell.” Harry shoved himself up on his forearms and grabbed his wand. You opened your mouth and Harry cast the spell. Unfortunately for you both, it was with much more intensity than Harry had intended and you choked on the intense stream of water that had assaulted your throat. You and Harry began to laugh as you were both drenched in water.

“I’ll go down and make some tea,” Harry said, changing his shirt. 

“I’ll meet you down there, I’m just going to take a quick shower.” You stripped and wrapped a towel around you as you made your way to the bathroom. You let your body relax under the warm water and you thought about how Hermione and Ginny had been exactly right when it came to James. He was unbelievably gorgeous and you couldn’t stop thinking about when he hugged you, when his fingers bumped against yours as he was pouring drinks, as he brushed against you as he served dinner. It was intoxicating. There was also a detachable shower head that you grabbed and adjusted the water pressure. Once it got to a setting that was to your liking, you angled it so it was spraying a steady stream against your clit. You gasped softly at the pressure and let your head rest against the wall of the shower. You tried to imagine the old things that would get you going: the ripped quidditch players, the rugged wizards from romance novels, the occasional rockstar, but then James crossed your mind. The feeling of body against yours, how you imagined his lips felt against your neck. You imagined his cock entering you, the feeling of your body pressed against the shower wall as he pounded you from behind, his large hands on your waist, his breath hot against your neck. You came harder that you anticipated and you muffled your moans in the crook of your arm. You finished showering and changed into a fresh pair of clothes before descending the stairs. You felt your stomach churn in an unpleasant way when you smelled cooking from the kitchen. 

“Good morning,” you said, sitting down at the kitchen table and accepting a cup of tea from Harry who looked just as queasy as you felt. James looked like he had fully rested after a long night of sleep. All around him potatoes were being mashed, green beans were being washed, and a turkey was being stuffed. James himself was charming a rolling pin to roll out dough for scones. 

“Good morning! How did you sleep?” James beamed at you. 

“How is it that even now in our old age, you still have never been hungover?” Sirius groaned, walking into the kitchen completely stark naked and pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Sirius! Cover up. There’s a lady in the house.” James rolled his eyes. 

“What you haven’t seen this before?” Sirius thrust his hips forward a little and pointed at his dick. You laughed and shook your head. 

“Can’t say it’s my first time. Though it is my first time seeing a hickey there.” You and Harry both tilted your heads to get a better view of the large purplish bruise on the side of Sirius’ cock. 

“Moony gets teethy.” Sirius shrugged, leaning against the counter and taking a long sip of his coffee. Remus walked in a few moments later and rolled his eyes at Sirius, throwing a pair of boxers at Sirius’ chest. 

“Animals, the lot of you.” James shook his head. 

“Dad, did you want to go for a round on the pitch?” Harry asked, accio-ing his broom into his left hand. 

“Ah, I wish but I have to finish cooking.” James gestured to all the food around him. 

“I can cook! Go, it’s alright.” You smiled. James gave you a grateful smile and nodded,

“I’ll only be a few minutes.” 

“Take your time,” Remus waved him off, “I’ll stay and help too.”

“Cheers Moony!” James grinned, “Pads you coming?”

“Try and stop me.” Sirius laughed. The three boys scrambled outside and you could hear the chatter between them. You laughed to yourself and began to tend to the turkey. 

“It’s sweet isn’t it,” Remus said to you, “the bond between James and his son.”

“It reminds me of me and my father. I never realized how close Harry and his dad are. I always saw his mother at school functions.” You said. 

“Lily is an amazing mother, despite some of her most questionable actions as of late.” Remus sighed, “I do hope that her and James reconcile.”

“Oh,” you felt your heart do a flip-flop, “you think they might get back together then?”

“I certainly hope so.” Remus said with a sad smile. 

“I don’t.” A new voice said. It was James. He was sweaty and panting as he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. 

“You don’t? Not even a little bit?” Remus quirked an eyebrow.

“No,” James shrugged, “I think Lily is an amazing person but after so many years together I think we both realized that we can be better friends apart. There’s no harm in that.”

“I suppose only you and her would know.” Remus had a pensive expression on his face but he didn’t say anything further on the subject. 

The rest of the day passed rather quickly, as you helped James prepare for the Christmas Eve dinner while Remus, Sirius, and Harry decorated the tree. After dinner you drank eggnog by the fire and listened to James tell stories about Harry when he was young and all the Marauders’ adventures. Sirius and Remus stumbled off to bed, thoroughly drunk with Sirius attempting to suck a dark hickey onto Remus’ neck.

“Silencing spell Pads!” James called. 

“Cheers!” Sirius called back, the door slamming shut and the unnatural silence of the spell taking hold. 

“It’s a little tradition in our household to open one gift on Christmas Eve.” James said with a smile. He handed a small wrapped gift to you and Harry. 

“Oh, James, you didn’t have to get me anything. The invitation was enough!” You felt your face burn but you weren’t sure if it was from the egg nog or the gift. 

Harry opened his gift first. It was a necklace with a silvery sword pendant.

“It’s beautiful.” Harry said, watching the way the pendant gleamed under the light of the fire. 

“It’s functional as well.” James stood up and extended a hand to Harry as well. “Hold the necklace by the pendant and flick your wrist.” 

Harry followed his father’s instructions and after the flick of his wrist the pendant expanded to a full sized sword. 

“Whoa! Is that the sword of Gryffindor?” You asked, scrambling up and examining the sword up close.

“Yes it is. It’s been in the Potter family for generations. Flick your wrist again.” James instructed. Harry did so and the sword returned back to it’s pendant size. Harry put the sword around his neck and gave his father a tight hug.

“Open mine!” You urged Harry, handing Harry your gift as well. Harry opened it and laughed. 

“Oh my God! This is great!” Harry grinned, pulling out a jumper that Mrs. Weasley had helped you knit. It was a dark red with a little design of a figure that looked like Harry whizzing by on his broom after a golden snitch. 

“Thanks! It took a lot of yelling from Mrs. Weasley and some tears but it’s done!” You beamed. 

“This is truly amazing. You’re very talented.” James was studying the jumper in adoration. 

“I’m so glad you think so because after I did it once I was able to replicate it and make some tweaks so happy Christmas James!” You handed James an identically wrapped package. Inside was a jumper but the design was a man who looked like James that disappeared and a stag stood in his place. You had remembered the stories Harry had told you of his father’s animagi status and thought it would be sweet. James wrapped you in a tight hug and grinned at you, 

“Thank you so so much.”

Harry gave James his gift and then handed you his gift to you. It was a gorgeous porcelain tea set that was enchanted so the bottom of each tea cup had a grim at the bottom, a silly callback to yours and Harry’s shared time in Divination. James had run out for a moment and then returned with a small box for you. It was a beautiful, dainty bracelet. James helped you put it on. You were absolutely speechless. 

“Thank you so much, James. It’s absolutely lovely.” You excused yourself to the bathroom where you investigated it more. It looked like real gold. Why would James give you such an expensive and intimate gift. You saw there was a little slip of paper underneath the bracelet. You pulled it out and read:

To my one true love, my Lily

That made more sense. James had given you a gift that he had intended initially for Lily. You would give it back to him after Harry went to bed. You were about to round the corner to reenter the main room when you overheard a conversation between Harry and James. 

“-Siphera is a lovely girl. Are you and her…together?” James asked. 

“No, no,” Harry responded, “She’s my best friend in the entire world. I’m glad you got to meet her.”

“I am too.”

You took that as your cue to re-enter the room and you nestled back into your spot and wrapped your hands around your cup of eggnog. 

“Alright, I’m going to ring Ginny before bed. G’night.” Harry gave you another hug before going to bed. 

“So James, while I really appreciate the bracelet I don’t think I can keep it.” You said, handing James to bracelet back. 

“Oh, you don’t like it?” James gave you a look of alarm. 

“No, it’s not that. I just saw this note and…” You handed James the note. 

“I, um, I am so sorry. I had gotten you a box of chocolates for Christmas but then I saw your gift and I panicked. I had bought that bracelet for Lily months and months ago and I needed to give you something better. You’ve been such a light in Harry’s life and honestly in these few short days I’ve loved having you here. I want you to keep the bracelet.” James looked at you with large imploring eyes and extended the bracelet back to you. 

“Oh, thank you so much. You have to know that Harry is my best friend and he’s been amazing. Especially after everything with my father. And I can see where he gets his giving spirit. Thank you again for having me for Christmas this year.” You became aware of how close you and James were on the couch. His hand was on your knee and his breath was warm against your face. He leaned in and kissed you, his hand on the back of your neck. His lips were soft and he was gentle, warm. You pulled away and looked down at the ground. 

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I’ve just…been lonely. But that isn’t an excuse.” James shook his head. 

“I think I’m going to go to bed. Good night.” You scrambled from the room. You reentered your room and tried to think about what had just happened. And then you thought fuck it, you deserved a little guilty pleasure now and again. And before you knew it you were knocking on James’ door, emboldened by the eggnog. 

“I’m glad you’re here. I’m so so sorry-” James started but you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him hard. He pulled you into the room and shut the door, pushing you up against the door and pulling your jumper over your head. He thread a hand in your hair and tilted your face up a little as he angled his tongue. His hand went down to the waistband of your jeans and fiddled with the button for a moment before sliding his hand down into your panties. 

“So wet for me,” he whispered into your mouth. You were going to give back a smart remark but James pushed two of his nimble fingers into your pussy. You gasped and gripped James shoulder harshly. His thumb found its way to your clit and he started on circular motions as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. His lips made their way to your neck and he was sucking hickeys on your neck that you would curse in the morning but right now all you cared about was James keeping his pace as you approached your orgasm. It hit you like a tidal wave and you were moaning into James’ mouth and begging him for something you weren’t totally sure of. 

He moved you to the large wicker bed that sat in the center of the room. You helped him out of his shirt and unbuckled his pants. You kissed down his chest, along his happy trail, and down to his cock. You took him in your mouth and he moaned lowly, 

“Oh fuck.” He moaned, holding your hair back as you tried to take him as deep as possible. You grabbed his balls lightly and released a strangled, 

“Okay! Okay, I don’t want to cum just yet.” He pulled you off of him and flipped you over so you were beneath him. He pushed himself inside you and you both moaned. 

“You’re so big,” you moaned. 

“You’re so tight,” he moaned back. He was fucking you at a relentless, unforgiving pace. One of his hands was gripping the headboard tightly and the other was alternating between your nipple and your clit. You were approaching your second orgasm of the night and with the way it was building you knew it was going to hit you even harder than the first one. James pulled out completely and slammed back into you and that was it. You orgasm hit you hard and your orgasm triggered James’. He came inside you, babbling thank yous and oh my gods. He pulled out of you and you both laid side by side, breathing heavily and fanning yourselves. 

“We can’t ever tell Harry.” You said, the icy shock of sobriety making you realize the gravity of what you had done. You had slept with your best friend’s dad. That would kill him. James was going to respond when an owl started pecking at the window. James opened the window and untied the piece of parchment wrapped around the owl’s foot. You were able to read it over your shoulder.

James, 

I made a huge mistake. Ring me in the morning?

Happy Christmas

Lily

Hitting you up because I want to hear more about Emperor Qianlong's art collection! My two big all-consuming hobbies are drawing and reading about history, so I pretty much can't get enough of either topic

OH OH where to BEGIN with Qianlong and his love of the arts???? And also okay he historically is SUCH a funky guy idk where to even begin on how much I love cool and kind of failflop Qianlong facts. If you want to know about his hilarious terrible poetry I leave you with this poem he wrote about cucumbers: 

It is the best ingredient on the plate in Beijing;

I tasted it lately in February, but how can I give it a review?

Weighing down the trellis, and embellishing the fence, it looks so beautiful,

The rural landscape contains true feelings.

No this isn’t any better in Chinese. You can find it and other Qianlong poetry roasts here.

Okay, I don’t know if Qianlong’s art collection/paintings created for him can be contained in a single answer, BUT, I’ll do my best! 

Emperor Qianlong was an avid patron of the arts, and his collection of paintings, jade pieces, and other antiques remain one of the greatest reasons why we still have a lot of the pieces on display around the world today. He was also in the habit of writing on/stamping his personal seal on his favorite paintings and art pieces, and some of these repeatedly viewed paintings (with his notes/thoughts/writings) also preserve great portions of his life, which is a really intimate look into him as a person especially throughout time. We rarely get this sort of information from a ruler since MOST imperial writing has been edited/was meant to present to other people. He also liked to take landscape paintings with him on his travels to compare the landscapes in the paintings to their irl presentation.

His habit of turning his favorite paintings into diaries is NOT a common practice btw, most people didn’t deface the paintings in their collections. (Okay they might put their personal stamp on it to explain that they own it, but WRITING NEW SHIT ON IT? nah.) 

Art historians, btw, have been in argument about his practice of defacing paintings and basically being in conversation with them ON the painting itself, since practically the time he started doing this about if it’s destroying the art or enhancing it somehow. He was just. SUCH a guy. 

(He uh, may also have used coercion, threats, and force to acquire some of these because he was the emperor and he wanted them. This behavior was normal for emperors but his obsession with art and antiques was slightly less normal. Like, this man was IN LOVE with art.) 

The OTHER hilarious thing about Qianlong was that while he LOVED paintings and antiques and poetry and art he uh, well okay see the above roast re his poetry but he wasn’t very good at any of these things per se. (For example, there are multitudes of stories about how he’d get really happy about a certain painting or antique in his collection, only to discover that it was a GREAT forgery or a fake or not actually all that old and oh here’s the actual thing your majesty this is the real one and be SO embarrassed by this new knowledge that he’d just KEEP BOTH and pretend nothing was wrong. Like just WHAT a guy. What a guy lmao.) 

Qianlong also really loved western style paintings and painters. For example, Giuseppe Castiglione was one of his favorite court painters (Chinese Name Lang Shining) and did these two paintings of Emperor Qianlong:

These two paintings are like, some of my favorite things because like, the combination of east and west, and utilization of like, different techniques and perspectives is !!!! in my brain. Like, it’s incredible and I love it so much. 

Qianlong also incorporated a lot of western style architectural elements in his redesign and beautification of Yuanmingyuan and had a REALLY interesting life overall, but this is getting kind of long so 😂I’ll leave off for now. 

Feel free to ask about anything that sounds interesting about this though! I love to ramble. 

I honestly don’t think she does it on purpose, I think she’s just focused on getting to the stage. ‘Cause she has allowed guys to touch her (ex. Austin and Andrew both held her close and by the waist in pictures) You’re tell me a helping hand is where she draws the line? Nah.

You know good and well there's a difference btwn taking a friendly picture with your male costar who you've worked on set with for months, and actually allowing a strange man (that you've probably never even met) to help you up to the stage lol 😆

Plus how can you NOT see ppl right in front of you? 😄

With Paul and Jack she for sure saw them right in front of her lol. But she doesn't know Paul like that, so maybe she was just caught up in the moment and was trying to hurry up on stage. Andrew was basically telling her to "go go go" and get up there on stage cuz they were about to miss their cue rofl. 🤣

I'll give her a pass for the Timmy incident cuz she already had Denis helping her lol 😆 It was just hilarious to see the Timdaya ship sink like a lead balloon throughout the entire "Dune" press tour rofl 🤣

Anyway....

Look, idk why she does it.... 🤷🏾‍♀️ But I just assume that it's intentional at this point since it's happened so many times now lol. 😅 But I could be wrong! I would hate to think it's because of Tom like some fans have theorized (cuz that would just make him seem very insecure 🥴), so I'm not even gonna say it's about Tom at this point.

It could just be that maybe she personally feels some kind of way about feminism and doesn't want men who are NOT her bf feeling like they have to go out of their way to help her. Who knows?

Personally, I just think it's a kind gesture, a gentlemanly thing to do, and I don't mind if men want to offer their help to me. 🤷🏾‍♀️ I know it makes them feel good, and as a woman it makes me feel safe and protected. 🥰 I don't mind if men open doors for me or pull out a chair for me either. 🤷🏾‍♀️ (IMO It's the LEAST they can do for starting wars and messing up women's lives.... rofl let me stop 🤣 )

Maybe just I'm old-fashioned, but it doesn't bother me in the least. I actually find it admirable when I see men trying to assist women, cuz we know those high heels and dresses can be smthg ELSE!! ROFL 😆 🤣 It just seems like good manners to me? 🤷🏾‍♀️ IDK... I don't think too deeply about it.

Anyway, Z is her own woman and she can do whatever she wants! I just think it's hilarious at this point lol 😆

At first I thought it was just a Timmy thing cuz Timdayas are annoying as idk what 🙄, but now I'm seeing it's just a Z thing I guess lol. 😅 It's HER choice!

I'm REALLY shocked at the Jack incident though, cuz she knows him pretty well by now lol 😆

20 lmfao (idk if this is cheating on the ask meme but im picturing Thee perfect mat wrestler bryan danielson being like "wtf thats gross and also cheating" if someone gave him a wet willy)

drabble challenge || @intearsaboutrobots

Prompt 20: Wet Willies Rating: pg-13 Pairing: Bryan Danielson x Jon Moxley (x Wheeler Yuta) Word Count: 316 words

“Listen, just don’t be an annoyance this early in the morning and you won’t be in this position.” Mox was holding back the biggest amused grin imaginable.

“Are you serious right now?” Bryan was sitting crisscrossed, his hand slapping at his left ear. “You’re a child. You’re an actual damn child, Jon.”

“Either Regal can change training from 5 in the fuckin’ morning or,” Mox glared at Bryan even though he was actually having a blast now. The absolute disgust on Bryan’s face was better than twenty ounces of coffee. “You can learn not to be a bitch before 10.”

“I don’t want to hear your excuse. You can’t just give me wet-willies!” Bryan seemed very close to actually angry which just egged Mox on even more, because of course it would.

“Broke your hold, didn’t it?” Mox smirked, standing off to the side of the mats. Bryan was still sitting there, messing with the assaulted ear.

“It’s so gross!” Bryan finally stood up, apparently unable to deal with the invasion of his personal space. “It’s also fucking cheating!” Bryan’s temper flared as he made his way to the locker rooms.

“I’ve literally bleed buckets on you!” Mox called after the other, his grin finally spilling onto his face at Bryan’s retreating back. “And sweating! We sweat all over each other.”

“Fuck. OFF.” Bryan slammed the door as he got to the edge of the gym.

“He also came inside you last night, and you came all over him. Don’t know why spit is the line he’s drawing.” Wheeler pointed out with a shrug from his seated spot on the other side of the mats. “Does he just not like spit?”

“Nah. I think spits fine. He spits in my mouth all the time.” Mox shrugged as he sat down next to Wheeler and took a drink of his water. “Just don't like wet-willies, I guess.

murai yakumo. first time.

started reading blue period back in may. the art is so unique and expressive and i found i could really connect with its messages about art. anyways! i really like the goblin fellow. it's a reader-insert, but it's in third person. she/her pronouns. i've been experimenting with not using second person lately. idk how i feel about it. warnings: spice below the cut, not beta read

The humidity is unusually high for early summer. Times like these make her glad she brought an air conditioning unit from home, her bedroom and studio kept a manageable temperature whilst the kitchen and living room swelter.

Yakumo shows up at one in the afternoon, an hour before he said he would. One of those enormous tarps he’d shouted about using is hefted over his shoulder, two full bags from the convenience store down the street nestled in the crook of his elbow. He lets the tarp flop on the floor of her bedroom, so close to the coffee table that the glasses on top of it wiggle threateningly.

“We’re doing acrylic, right?” he scrunches his nose as he looks at her stained, plastic box of half-used paints, digging through it with unrestrained enthusiasm. “Not my kinda thing, y’know.” His voice is muffled into the fabric of his shirt as he pulls it over his head, carelessly dropping it to the side. The muscles of his abdomen ripple with the movement, vivid strokes of his tattoo alighting his broad shoulders. She eyes the feathers with unabashed curiosity, taking in the rich scarlet, the variation of thickness in the lines.

“Same here, but this is just for fun, sooo…” she trails off, pressing a cold can of coffee to his cheek. Her other hand perches on his shoulder, squeezing the tight muscle that rests there. 

“Art is supposed to be fun all the time,” he reminds her, shoving his shoulder into her hand. He leans into the touch like a particularly affectionate cat. The grin on his face is megawatt and unmistakably smug, eyes creased up with a knowing smile. “Unless you wanna get down to somethin’ else?”

“Egh,” she wrinkles her nose and pulls away, making an exaggeratedly disgusted face. “Nope! Not at all!” She plops down next to him, wipes the fresh sweat off her brow. “You said you’d teach me acrylic, and you’re not weaseling it out it.”

Yakumo barks out a laugh, giving her a waggish smile. He leans back on his hands, palms up against the hardwood floor as he regards her, lax and sly. He’s inordinately comfortable in her room, gaze unashamedly darting away from her to look over the walls and furniture. What kinds of conclusions is he drawing? Do her stuffed animals and frilly knick knacks make him think any different of her?

“You just don’t like acrylic ‘cause it dries so fast,” he says pointedly, pulling a leg up to his chest. His chin rests atop of his knee, eyelids dipping low. 

“Yeah, and that’s why you’re gonna teach me!” she points out a second time, scrutinizing the brushes she’d laid across an old, green towel. The paint has been chipped off the wooden handles, the mark of age and use. 

“What!? I didn’t agree to that…” he grumbles, griping about “giving lessons for free”, indignant and petulant. He helps her, anyways, runs through the basics of a medium he doesn’t really like just to make her happy. 

They paint for around twenty minutes before Yakumi complains of an empty stomach. He spills open the bags he brought with him, allowing the wrapped snacks and sandwiches and pastries he’d brought fall out onto the tarp. 

“You bought all this?” “Nah. Painted a mural on the brick outside for the old lady who runs the place. She owed me one,” he explains with a dismissive wave of his hand, cracking open a package and sinking his teeth into the plush bun of an egg sandwich. True to word, he’s utterly voracious, easily scarfing down that and another, before turning to the entire section of desserts aimlessly strewn on the ground. They’re all packaged, and that’s the only reason she lets him get away with doing it.

“Well, I’m gonna send some emails while you do that,” she hums, hopping back onto the bed. She tucks her back into the pillows piled against the headboard, lowering the brightness of her laptop’s screen with a wince. The case its in is lovingly decorated with an assemblage of stickers she’d purchased over a few weeks.

“Emails?” he scoffs, around five minutes later. By the time she peers over her laptop to look at him, he’s launched himself atop the mattress, body soaring through the air in an arc. He looks like he’s a plank of wood being thrown into a lake. The bed bounces at the impact, prompting her to let loose an alarmed squawk. Her shorts ride up on her upper thighs, threatening to dip into the v-line of her hips.  “Who’re you sendin’ emails to?”

“None of your business,” she sticks her tongue out at him. She nudges him in the arm with her knee. This is the first time she’d had a boy in her bed, she realizes, cheeks growing hot. “Just gimme a minute.”

“Whaaat,” he drawls. He swings an arm over her leg, jostling it is as he tries to pry her attention away from her computer. “You were the one who invited me over here, and now you’re tellin’ me to wait so you can send an email? I expected better hospitality, not gunna lie.”

“Yeah. Well,” she clicks her tongue. “If I could, I wouldn’t be doing it either.”

To his credit, he quiets, remains still and patient whilst she continues to type. The arm he’d fanangled around her knee remains in place, his head tilted to the side enough for her to feel his breath fan across her skin. Unbidden, a hot, molten feeling starts to throb in between her legs. She peeks over her screen, taking in the youthful sculpt of his face, the sweep of his dark bangs. His eyes are shut, lashes settled against his pale cheek. Pursing her lips together, she  returns to the task at hand, yet… 

The sound of his voice reverberates in her ears, the offer he’d made (likely in jest) when he first arrived circling to the forefront of her focus. She feels like a doe on shaking legs, all of the sudden, faced with both desire and the newfound ability to obtain it. Does he think she’s pretty? Is he even really interested in having sex with her? Or had he said it as an offhand joke?

“Yakumo,” she begins, and he stirs against her leg. He grunts lowly in acknowledgement. “You remember… what you said earlier? About doing ‘something else’?”

“Yeah… why? You givin’ it some thought?”

“Were you serious about it?”

“‘Course. Everything I say is serious.” “What? Don’t look at me like that—okay, whatever, but I was serious when I said it.”

“Oh, wow.”

“You’re a little too cool about this. You should be going ‘kya, Yakumo-kun, please fuck me~ I didn’t know how badly I wanted you until now—’”

“Do you want to fuck or not?”

“...Yeah.”

“Then why do you look so… glum about it?”

“‘S nothin’ to do with you. I just don’t want you to feel forced or anything.” he says with a sigh. He turns his face, pressing his nose up against her outer thigh. “You’ve never done this kinda thing before, right? I don’t wanna ruin it for you.”

“I’m pretty sure that counts as having to do with me,” she helpfully informs him. She folds her laptop shut, doing away with the makeshift barrier between them. He looks remarkably unimpressed, lips pressed into a flat line. “But yes,” she says, before he can start pouting about her nonanswer. “I would still be interested. If you are, that is.”

And just like that, his lips curl into a wild smile, the expression completely at home on his face. His arm unwinds from around her legs and he sits up, turning to loom over her with a raised brow. His hand presses up against the plush comforter, his face swooping close to her own. His gaze is more vehement than she’s ever seen it, keen and hyper focused as he looks over over, attention settling on the bow of her lips.

“I’m not the kinda guy who changed his mind once I make a decision,” he says, soft and low, an unspoken vow in those hushed words, like he’s imparting upon her a precious secret. It feels like they’re remarkably away from the rest of the world, sequestered away in the warm, pastel den that is her bedroom. He looms over her, curled in between her legs, rooted firm in her space like a gargoyle sculpted into a cathedral’s side. 

His lips are chapped yet gentle where they meet her own, but his hand presses a little tight to her cheek. She quivers and sighs and shuts her eyes tight, feeling like a bow-legged fawn, unsteady and nonplussed but eager to graze on the new feelings before her. They’ve barely been kissing for a few seconds before his tongue rasps over her mouth, trying to reel her in and drink her deep.

He pulls back before she can open her mouth for him, one of those sharp canines grating over the rosy plump of her bottom lip. 

“Ouch,” she mumbles at the sting, no bite behind it. “Aren’t you supposed to French kiss and be all romantic and gentle before you start getting rough?”

“Life’s not like those corny fanfictions you read,” he chortles, amused as he pushes his face into the column of her neck. She for once is grateful that he isn’t looking at her face. Her complexion blooms florid, cheeks painted apple red. She curses, sensitive at the sparking sensation that sprouts wherever he kisses. “Don’t think about it too hard. Just lay back ‘n let me do all the work, m‘kay?”

She contemplates him for a moment, her nerve threatening to falter in these last, final moments of uncertainty. Her head tilts to the side instinctually, giving him more room. The first scrape of his fangs against her unmarred flash makes her gasp and jolt, body going stiff, goosebumps spreading along her arms and up her legs. He seals his lips against her, sharp teeth sucking devilishly at the pale skin. Her hands fly to grip his upper arms, eyes going wide as ambrosial, molten pleasure throbs in her lower stomach. 

“Yeah,” she breathes, tilts her head in an aborted nod. Yakumo, who emanates confidence and carries himself with the brash alacrity of someone who has done this before. She settles against her pink, fleecy comforter. She feels like a bird settling into its nest, allowing all her weight to fall into the pile of pillows at her back.

“Atta girl,” Yakumo mumbles, and his big hands all but tear her tanktop away from her. Their disrobing is a whirlwind of motion, his big hands pulling her tank top over her head and sliding her shorts and panties all the way down her legs. He doesn’t stop to admire her after she’s bare and in front of him, diverting from just about every fanfiction she’s ever read but also granting her a moment to collect her wits and scrounge for any courage left within her. He stands on her mattress and sloughs his pants and boxers, grunting as his cock pops up to stand stiff against his stomach.

Only then does his ashen blue gaze finally return to her prone form. He drops to his knees, plummeting all his weight onto the mattress at once. She squawks as the bed bounces and creaks in protest, instinctively curling her legs to her chest lest he land on them. 

“Nah, nah, nah,” Yakumo huffs, big hands curling around her ankles to encourage them backwards. His hands are warm, palms unexpectedly rough. He tugs lightly, coaxing but not forcing. Some of the stubborn, clinging trepidation that’s kept ahold of her is assuaged at the gentility he treats her with. “C’mere, baby, it’s alright.” He coos, expression curled into a mocking facsimile of pity. 

“Ugh, you don’t have to talk to me like that,” she grunts, ignores the way her cunt throbs at the manhandling. 

“I think you like it, though,” Yakumo hums, curled over her. He paws at her breast, idly admiring her chest before placing a chaste kiss over her nipple. The touch, however light, makes her stiffen regardless. 

He spends, in her humble opinion, too much time there. Long fingers squeeze and knead her left breast, pinching her nipple between her thumb and forefinger before lifting, the jolt of pleasure-pain making her squeal and arch her back. He pushes and pulls the plump mound of flesh, humming with delight when he finds something new to make her squirm and squeal. A part of her wants to be indignant about how delighted he seems to tease her, but it’s hard to protest or whine about she’s at the mercy of his nimble fingers. 

Her hands fly onto his shoulders, fingers curling, head too devoid of thought to worry about the red lines she’s scratching onto his pale skin. Knowing him, he’ll wear them with pride tomorrow, brag about them to those classmates he spends so much time with.

But this moment is for them and them alone, bodies curled and caged around each other like threads twined into rope. 

“Haah, you’re so cute,” he purrs, voice low and raspy. His hips rut up against her like he’s an animal in heat, thick heat of his cock rubbing up against her inner thigh. He’s agonizingly, tantalizingly close to her wetting cunt. Her walls flutter around nothing, anticipation mounting in her lower tummy as she finds the words to encourage him. “You got no idea how hard it’s been… keeping my hands off you when you wear those slutty little shorts—”

“They’re not slutty,” she protests, but her cunt squeezes at the crude insult regardless.

“Nah,” he refutes with casual ease. “They’re pretty slutty,” The hand that’d been tormenting her chest glides down her side, giving her hip a fond squeeze before wandering to the crux of her inner thighs. Her spine goes ramrod straight, eyes blowing wide as he slips his fingers over her cunt. He toys idly with her folds, fingers caressing and prodding and teasing. The pad of his thumb rolls over her clit in little circles, coaxing breathy moans and low keens from her lips. Her thighs squeeze around his hand. He tsks, shoving her her right leg apart with his free hand, holding her open for him.

“Sorry—AH!” her voice pitches into a high squeal as he gathers her dewey wetness on his fingers. She swallows and gasps and whines, legs kicking pathetically against the comforter. He grins a sharp-toothed grin, devious and knowing as he slips a finger inside of her, rubbing circles up and down her silken walls. 

The hesitance he’d shown merely a few minutes ago is completely gone, replaced by a fervent, manic eagerness as he fingers her. His pupils, blown wide, force his stormy blues into thin, vibrant rings. The wet squelching and slicking sounds fill the room alongside her gasps and whines. Her hands scramble atop the blanket, grabbing fistfuls of the heavy fabric to squeeze. The muscles of her thighs twitch as he adds a third finger, her eyes shutting and her head lolling backwards. 

Those nimble digits roll ribboning circle patterns up and down the warm walls of her cunt, just barely grazing that sweet, spongy spot that makes her throw her head back and sob. Her thighs try to snap shut, but he holds them fast, expression wrinkling with a sneer.

“Real sensitive, ain’tcha?” he says. She licks the sweat from her upper lip, eyes glazed as she attempts to cobble together a sensible reply. She’s sensitive? Wouldn’t any girl being touched like this react in the same way? She wants to say as much, but the current of pleasure rolls over her body and tosses her amongst its tides. She shifts again, whimpering as the burgeoning ecstasy slowly crescendos into its peak. “Stop squirmin’ so much.” he grumbles under his breath.

He slaps at her inner thigh with his open palm, prompting her to yelp. She goes shock still, the stinging sensation coalescing with that sanguine pleasure, throwing her straight over the edge of her imminent bliss. She cums messy all over his hand, juices spilling over his fingers and palm, dripping onto the blanket below. 

“Oh? You liked that?” Yakumo hums, fingering her through the orgasm, prolonging it into shaking, stuttering ripples. Throttled by the white hot feeling

“We shoulda used a towel,” Yakumo grumbles, making no move to climb out of the bed. “You got any condoms?”

“On the pill,” she mumbles, lifting a trembling hand to cover her eyes. She still feels like she’s shaking, like she can’t pull the air into her lungs fast enough, a skittering stumbling mess of sensation she’s never encountered before. 

“Oi,” Yakumo’s hand curls around her wrist. She inhales sharply, but he doesn’t try and tug it anywhere. He rubs circles on the underside with his thumb, a soothing gesture, she realizes after a moment of dazed befuddlement. “Are you alright? C’mon, talk to me.”

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” she says, lips curling into a small smile. “Are you gonna, uh—”

“Fuck you? Yeah, if that’s what you want,” he says, touch slipping away from her warmed skin. The mattress creaks as he repositions, knees digging into the surface on either side of her. She gasps as the head of his cock catches on her clit, hot and wet and thicker than she’d anticipated. She can take it, she’s sure, driving back any and all doubt—no, any and all thought for the sake of remaining lax and open. 

Still, the gravity of what he’s about to do to her sinks in. Her first time, she recalls distantly, her first time handed off on a whim, all because the handsome boy on top of her made a joke.

But, she wants this. She wants to be so relentlessly full of him, replete with his cum, sated by his fingers and cock. The idea of separating from him and facing the cold, empty air of the room almost frightens her more. 

“God, yes,” she hiccups, eyes shutting tight. Her toes curl, feet pressing hard into the mattress as he eases inside, silken skin dragging along her walls. It’s entirely thicker than any one of his fingers had been, stretching her open and filling her full and heavy. She can feel every inch of him, every ridging vein, with mind-numbing clarity. Her pants and heavy breaths spill into soft whines at the stretch, the awkward ache making her body shift and flex and writhe. Her pulse throbs in her ears, a sudden onslaught of panic breaching the haze he’d blanketed her in.

“Shit,” Yakumo curses quietly, breaking through her mind’s incessant buzzing. “You’re squeezin’ me so tight, babe—it’s okay, you’re alright,” he hushes her, resting a hand over her little fist, still balled in the comforter beneath her. His lips dance a small trail up and down her neck, over her collarbones. He stokes that burgeoning flame within her, distracts her from the irrational worry that her mind attempts to crowd her with. 

His other hand rests over her lower stomach, thumb rolling circles onto her slicked skin, an attempt to assuage her pain that makes her bite her lip, nerves dipping and soothing. Her eyes flutter shut as his pelvis meets her hips, slotting them together in a way that is cogent and concrete, undeniable and unignorable. Where had they been, all of thirty minutes ago? Still playing with their paints and markers?

She can’t quite find the answer, and the question itself disappears entirely once he pulls his hips back and slots them forward. That blessed, molten pleasure pours through her, avulses all thought from her nagging mind. He fucks her nice and slow, each stroke pushing places inside her that she’s never reached, unscoured planes of her body made to shake and quiver with each roll of his hips, each touch of his fingers. If she shuts her eyes she can pretend his sighs are wedding vows, her cries a prothalamion heralding the union between them. 

Opening her eyes, she glances up to his face. He looks just as dazed and wrecked as she feels, cheeks stained scarlet, lips parting around moans and sighs as he ruts into the welcoming grip of her pussy. Her little body shuddered, fingers breaking away from the sheets to curl around his own, gripping him tight as he bowed down, hooking sharp teeth into her collarbone. 

“Fuck,” he moans, voice breaking, choking. “Just like that, just like that—” he keeps talking, rasping out half-thought through praises between noises until his cock hits a spot that makes them both groan. He presses in just right, forces squeals and whimpers and other pitiful noises from her kiss-drunk lips. 

She gives mindless little “ah, ah, ah”s, lost to the ravenous rhythm he sets. Her spine arches, her hips roll, and she boils over the lid as his fingers dive between their bodies, clumsily toying with her clit.  Her body feels as though its aflame, swollen cunt holding him tight every time he pulls free, welcoming him back with a loving squeeze with each brutal reentry. 

He trades his honed technique for desperate roughness. He bullies her over into another orgasm with the rough pads of his fingers, spreading her dewey slick over the overwrought bunch of nerves.

A shudder rolls down his spine as she squeezes and milks him, each sanguine roll of his hips drawing him closer and closer to his own peak. She can feel it in the twitching of his thighs, in the way he veers off his rhythm and fucks into her, full weight behind every thrust. He’s chasing his own pleasure, now, using her. She swallows, flushes and clenches around him at the thought. He comes with a gasp, shoved over the edge

She watches, hazy and idly transfixed. He paints a beautiful picture, dark lashes set against his flushed cheeks, lips glistening as they part. He trembles with a low growl of her name, the gravel in his voice making her shiver. For a single moment, only the sound of their breaths filling the silence that lingers between them. A syrupy feeling settles over her mind and body, eyes slipping shut as she sinks into what she assumes is the afterglow.

His forearms tense, thighs shaking as he pulls out. A gross schlicking sound parts the balmy air, the loss of him rendering her as empty as she’s ever felt. Without him there to warm her, the space between her legs starts to cool, causing her to wrinkle her nose. The mess they’ve made has not escaped her. Their bodies are caked with sweat. Yakumo collapses onto his side, pressing tight to the comforters in an effort to cling to that tender warmth.

He says something, but she doesn't quite catch it. The rumble of his voice has gone raspy with extensive use. She tilts her head to look at him, eyelids dipped low and cheeks still hot.

“What?”

“Hah!” he bursts out in erumpent laughter at the sight of her face, the noise so abrupt and jarring that it completely knocks her from the afterglow. She blinks at him, perhaps stupidly, completely unaware to what he finds so hilarious. 

“What!?” she demands. She gives him an affronted frown.

“I fucked you stupid,” he chortles. Heat rushes to her cheeks and her eyes go wide, completely scandalized despite the lewdity of everything they’d just done. 

“Fucked stupid?” she echoes with a brusque scoff. Surely not. She makes a face as she tries to turn onto her side, shifting away from the wet mess they’ve made. In a few minutes, she’ll get up and lug the comforters to the washing machine. “No… I just… didn’t hear you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Yakumo snorts dismissively. “But it was good, right?” He rests his cheek on the palm of his hand, his smug grin dissolving into contemplative neutrality. She’s sure she looks a mess, covered in sweat and bruises and their mixed essence, but she feels just fine—great, even. There’s a strange kind of giddiness that accompanies the halcyon fatigue of the afterglow, a feeling she can only chock up to delighted disbelief that she’d done this in the first place, despite all of her reservations and her self-doubt. 

“Yeah,” she echoes quietly, contentedly. “It was really good. Thank you, Yakumo.”

“Good. S’ no problem,” Yakumo says with a small hmph, dark eyelashes fluttering against his cheek as he closes them, seemingly content to idle atop her comforter. Unfortunate, for him, because she’s dead set on getting them off the bed and into the wash as soon as possible. But for now, while she finally regains the confidence to stand on her wobbly legs, she thinks she’ll let him rest.

@cryosphe​ Man.. good questions.. (i hope you don’t mind me answering in a seperate post)

- What got you into wordgirl/the fandom?

It was actually very gradual, someone I follow on twitter posted wordgirl fanart a few times. Then a few months followed where I didn’t think about it. Saw a few clips on youtube. Once again forgot about it. More clips, more fanart, and soon enough i was just bored with myself and decided to watch a few random episodes. (it was like being hit by a truck with nostaliga) Instantly in love. I knew right then I was being thrown into the thick of it. Speaking of the episodes, I watched them totally out of order lol.

- I notice that whenever it comes to drawing Steven/DTB you give him features that are typically attributed to those who are older. Any reasons as to why specifically? I mean I love it, but I’m just so intrigued…

To be totally honest with you... its a mix of just really having an appreciation for old people, and also a bit of an inspiration from how my father looked. My Dad started greying in High school (and so did I) and it always drew more attention to his fine lines, overall older appearance... also its just fun adding crows feet and all. But also! I Hc him in his early to mid 40s, he olde...

- When first drawing him (DTB) for the first time, did you experiment a little with the design? If so, what did you change/add? How is it different compared to the way you draw him now?

Idk dude I just started drawing, whatever comes out is what comes out. I still wasn’t posting back when i started drawing him so it was truly an unfiltered, unpolished time. I do mostly screenshot redraws when im figuring out a character. You’ve seen most of it before but heres the full first ever page:

Right before posting that grilled cheese comic, I was playing around with the idea of him recovering (obviously), and came to the conclusion that his experience with Squeaky should have aged him noticeably. So I added crows feet, and salt and pepper hair (even though you can’t really tell in the comic) And at the end of it, I was like, you know what, I really like the crows feet. So i decided to keep them. And at first I gave him crazy hair, then tried out a neater style, then i kinda forget about it untill I flipped back through randomly and thought to myself:

- I want more lore on his family 👹👹👹

OH MY GOD HIS FAMILY. I absolutely cannot create deep lore for the life of me 🙇 But heres what i’ve been thinking

-Amelia is the oldest and Stephanie the youngest. 

-Amelia has a few kids of her own and is PERFECTLY balancing a job on top of it. 

-Amelia is trying her best with Steven and is absolutely FILLED with guilt over how she unintentionally treats him.

-Stephanie is the closest with Steven

-Steven moved away from home to pursue higher education.

-Steven’s family love him very much, even now.

-Mami- the taller- rightmost mother, is indigenous. She was based off how my grandmother would always be described as ‘A tall, Indian woman’ by my cousins. However, thats about it. She doesn’t look like my grandma, and mine was far too mysterious to base a character off of anyways.

- Nah, but I’m curious about the family that you gave him. What’s the thought process behind that? Is there a reason for the two mothers or did you just do it cuz you wanted to?

Oh! So originally I thought a lot about him being from a picture perfect nuclear family (angst!) And it was cool and all. But one day I thought to base it off of some of the dynamics in MY extended family. And boy did it click! I come from a very women-dominated extended fam. With even a few all-women families in the mix. Its a very sweet and comfortable atmosphere, and when thinking of my brother and the men in this women-dominated family, I think it fits just right.

Once again there are a few all-women families in my circle. One of those is, yes, two old lesbians with some kids. I want it to be a little representation of the fact that there have always been queer families, even before legal recognition. And of the elder queers who thrived in their lives.

- WHAT HAPPENED TO STEVEN AND AMELIA’S RELATIONSHIP⁉️⁉️⁉️ 😭😭😭 Was it always this bad?

Oh man of course not! They got along as kids! Amelia is his older sister and wants whats best for him but she cannot wrap her head around what hes going through. She is very neurotypical, and Steven is very neurodivergent, and almost all of their friction comes from a lack of mutual understanding.

- Why can’t you draw Huggy❓❓❓ 👿👿👿

Animal drawing brain don’t work

- DTB is a dilf 👍🏽👍🏽👍🏽

👌👌👌

survey #008

“if there’s a god, why did he let the devil do his work on me?”

Are you currently mad at anyone? Nah, not actively. Do you like drawing on cement with chalk? I loved drawing with chalk as a kid. I mean I probably still would, but my fat ass and inadequately-muscled legs are NOT letting me get on the ground if I want back up, haha. When was the last time you went tanning? I've never deliberately tried to tan because I hate the feeling of heat literally cooking me. Do you like the smell of fresh cut grass? No. Have you ever worked at a party store? No. Are you creative? I think I am and have been told I am. Do you know how to play poker? Haha, it's funny, I did at a certain age as a kid, but now remember nothing as an adult. Do you always wear your seatbelt? Yes, always. Do you sing in the shower? No. Showers are fucking torture for me because of my legs so I get in and get the fuck out as fast as possible, I'm not concentrating on anything else. Have you ever been called a slut/whore/something along those lines? Only playfully by friends, never seriously. Have you ever stood up for someone you hardly/didn't even know? Yes. Do you do drugs? No. Where do you want to get married? I have a few ideas. The absolute dream wedding would be in some sort of beautiful gothic building, like an old mansion, in the ballroom. I'll tell you right the fuck now I couldn't even dream of affording a venue like that though, so a more realistic option would be in some autumn woods, maybe by water or even a waterfall. Have you ever made yourself throw up? So, uh... I have tried. At my last job, when I was in the restroom having a panic attack and crying, I stuck my finger down my throat trying to force myself to vomit to give myself an extra reason to go home. And let me add how fucking TERRIFIED I am of the sensation of vomitting, if that helps give you an idea of how severely I was panicking. It didn't work. Honestly I probably would've kept trying if my co-worker hadn't come into the restroom making sure I was okay. Approximately two hours of fucking disaster. Have you ever fallen in love with a really good friend of yours? Haha yeah, I'm dating him rn. Do you own a blacklight? Not to my knowledge. Do you like fruit better than vegetables? Oh, absolutely. Have you ever been expelled from school? No. Do you believe you've met your soulmate or one of them? I don't believe in the concept of "soulmates." When did you last have grape juice? Literally the worst flavor of juice, ugh. I tried some back in March at the hospital because I really didn't want water, but I took one fuckin sip and got some water lmao. Have you learned anything today? Yeah honestly, but I don't wanna write an essay about it. Do you like the smell of coconut? Sure. It's not a favorite or anything, but it still smells fine. Do you prefer longer or short socks? Oh god, I used to be ALL over ankle socks, not feeling the sock stop there drives me FUCK-ING insane, like I can't wear them. I like socks that are at a normal length, really. Not terribly high, not very low. Do you like to leave your window open at night or do you use a fan? I have two fans that are always on in my room. If you find a spider in your home, do you set it free or kill it? I actually haven't been in this position in a very, very long time, considering these days I would want to catch it and let it out. How many pets have you had in your lifetime? I literally couldn't count, especially when we had a cat problem growing up. Do you sunburn easily? Ludicrously easily. What did you get into trouble for as a kid? Mostly for reasons related to being on the computer too much, fighting with my younger sister, and uhhh... idk. I was a good kid. What's something good that has happened here recently? Uh... idk. Like, there's stuff ig, but nothing remarkable. Who did you last say "I love you" to? My boyfriend. When did you last feel beautiful? Ugh I never do. ^ tries his hardest to assure me I am, but I just honest to god don't see what he does. Are you currently frustrated over something? Yeah. I just don't feel like getting into it. Have you ever had a yard sale? Yes. Do you enjoy going to yard sales or garage sales? It's not something we really *do*, but Mom and I both do like looking at random and obscure stuff. Do you like gummy bears? I do, gummy candy is the best. Do you ever get room service when staying in hotels? We barely ever, ever stay in hotels, but any time we have, we haven't gotten room service, to my memory. Who knows you better than anyone else? My mom. Sara. Have you ever caught a fish? Many, growing up going fishing all the time with Dad. Can you honeslty say you love the last person you kissed? I can very very confidently say I'm in love with him. What does your last text mesage say? I don't feel like checking, but I think it was Dad sending me a picture from the plane he'd just boarded to go to Michigan (or Ohio?) to see family. What does the last person you kissed name start with? "D," though I don't call him by this name. How many people have you kissed in the last 5 months? One. When did you last have sex? Still never lmao we just haven't gotten to that point yet for multiple reasons I'm not gonna elaborate on. Like we're perfectly comfortable doing it, there are just a number of reasons why we haven't. When did you lose your virginity? ^ Does anyone call you baby? Girt, sometimes. It's not a regular, and I prefer it that way. What do you currently hear? "Armee der Tristen" by Rammstein. It's never going to end y'all Who was your first love? Jason, my high school boyfriend. What would you do if your doctor told you, you were pregnant? Well, given what I just said a few moments ago, I'd tell them they physically couldn't have the right person because I don't believe in immaculate conception. Do you still watch MTV? "Still?" I never did to begin with. Does the person you like know you like them? I make it pretty obvious. If you're dating someone how long have you been together? 10 months. What’s the longest relationship you have ever been in? 3 1/2 years. Do you know anyone who has gotten an abortion? Yes, and I promise you do too. It's not rare. People just don't talk about it because of the stigma. Have you ever kissed in the rain? Yeah. Have you ever spent the night with the last person you kissed? He literally spent the night a couple days ago. He's done it in the past too. I've never stayed at his place yet, though. Do you have a bad reputation? I wouldn't know, go ask people I associate with. Have you ever gone through a bad breakup? *performs Sign of the Cross* Has anyone ever used a cheesy pickup line on you? Idk, maybe. Would you ever want a statue made of you? Uh, ew. Has anyone ever called you dumb? Probably at some point. If we're including myself, then yeah that's like, daily. Do you have any cats? We have one. <3 Sometimes I want one more, but more often I'm content with just Roman, especially considering he would get out-of-this-fuckin'-world jealous. Have you broken anyone's heart? I don't know. Jason chopped me off and out of his life like a gangrenous limb, completely and entirely ceasing contact that I really don't have any way of knowing exactly how the breakup affected him. Tyler ACTED like I broke his heart after two fucking weeks when I can absolutely assure you I did not. He just had insane attachment problems. God I'm glad I said "fuck this, I'm out" when I did. What’s the craziest rumor you’ve ever heard about yourself? I've only ever heard one, which was basically that Jason and I magically had a baby over one summer. It was started by his ex, who had a grudge against me even BEFORE we dated, and she clearly did not think this shit through considering I was very slim in high school and clearly NOT pregnant at any point. Anyway, I'm friends with this person now. Things sure do change, haha. What’s the coolest name you’ve ever heard someone have? Ohhhh let's see... Well, I did have a friend named Journee (like "Journey") which I always thought was a beautiful, brilliant name for a person just going through and experiencing life. I am sadly 90% sure though she committed suicide because of something very serious she was dealing with at way too young of an age. No one should go through what she did, but never mind a child. She confided in me a lot, and during our last few messages, she was saying some concerning things and then just disappeared, permanently. What’s your least favorite genre of music and why? Rap, probably. I just don't like what is typically sung about and just the whole style of it. There are rap songs I love, but in general it's just not for me. What did you last complain about? I actually don't know. Did you ever like nursery rhymes as a child? What was your favorite? I did. I remember liking "The Itsy-Bitsy Spider" as well as that "This Little Piggy" one, whatever its proper name is, because it involved Mom tickling me. What do you usually purchase at gas stations? (aside from gas of course) If I get anything, it's likely to be a certain flavor of Mountain Dew, and then I'll sometimes get a sort of candy. Do you drink regular or diet soda? Only regular. The artificial sweetener in diet sodas gives me a headache, but diet is also just gross imo. What’s one of your favorite artists/bands, and least favorite song from them? All right let's go with Ozzy. There are a few of his songs I'm just sorta "meh" about, but if I remember it correctly, I believe I wasn't into "Diary of a Madman" at all. Have you ever seen them live? Bitch I would cry lmao. I would LOVE to see Ozzy, especially with it being so clear he's in his twilight years with all the health issues he's been fighting. Seeing Ozzy live would without a goddamn doubt be a very strong highlight of my life. Mom and I actually WERE planning on seeing him, all the way in Charlotte, but then that tour had to be cancelled due to the arrival of health problems. Can't say I know if he's planning another, but I would think so with a new album in the future. Do you consider graffiti to be true art or just messy? I mean, it can be both. Depends on where it's at, the content itself, everything. What last overwhelmed you? In a recent survey I mentioned that I don't know what really qualifies as sensory overload, but dear god I think I experienced it at Girt's place when Mom and I went there for an early 4th celebration. SO many people were talking about different things and I was trying to be aware and listen to everyone, but it just wasn't possible. I was so overstimulated with all the noise that I literally didn't even process what my mom was eventually saying directly to me; like I just stared at her blankly and had to come back to just me and her to understand anything. What did you last watch on TV? Girt and I were watching a Five Nights at Freddy's: Security Breach speedrun via YouTube on the TV the other night. We were curious because of the insane amount of glitches in that game how fast you could really do it. Do you know anyone who keeps a Christmas tree up year round? I mean I might, but not that I know of. What’s the strangest video you’ve ever seen? Oh brother, who knows, I've been on the Internet too long. Though I will say I actually haven't seen like... *any* of the notoriously gross and/or shocking videos because I cherish my eyes. They suck, but I cherish them lmao. Have you ever received a present that made you cry? Oh jeez, that's easy to do. Do you know of any haunted buildings in your town? No. I know of a location with false origins that portray it as haunted, but it's just literally not true. What’s the most random song on your playlist that people wouldn’t expect? HAHA at Girt's place, Mom was VERY surprised to learn Brittney Spears is on my iPod lmaooo. When did you last receive a business card from somebody? I haven't the slightest idea. Would you try that Flaming Hot Mountain Dew? ... I do wanna try it... lmaooo. I love both so I mean... leave me alone, haha. When it was first revealed, all the reactions made me feel horrible about myself, ahaha. Do you own any adult coloring books? Yeah, somewhere. What did you last draw or write down? Uh, probably my signature. Have you ever played pinball on a machine or just online? I've played it on machines before. Have you ever had a bad sunburn? I once had sunburn so bad it was actually sun poisoning. It was fucking excruciating.

Ryuji + Alfyn for the character thing?

ALFYN GREENGRASS (octopath traveler)

First impression: i actually didn’t think much of him at first. he didn’t seem that interesting to me at the time. Boy how the turns ended up tableing.

Impression now: he’s still like one of my fave characters ever tbh.. an inspiration for me in a way too. i can relate to a lot of how he acts in his story

Favorite moment: MULTIPLE ACTUALLY.. that one travel banter where he and therion take a nap at the tavern. the scene in his chapter 1 where he speaks to his mama. the ending of his chapter 2 when he cries after saving the siblings and sickly in town…….. wow……..

Idea for a story: i can’t think of any right now but My god. i have so many fic drafts from years ago. i’m too lazy to find them rn but they’re there ok

Unpopular opinion: i don't like how he's drawn in most official art. i hate how he looks in the art of him in the game (the drawing where he's kneeling and consoling a kid. HE IS MAKING SUCH A DRY EMOTIONLESS FACE that's not HIM!!!!!) i've seen too many fan interpretations and drawn him a lot myself to realize his art lacks swag!!!!!! that he has!!!! in the narrative!!!!! which is crazy

Favorite relationship: OFC alfyn/therion. i also really like (non romantically) alfyn + zeph, alfyn + ophilia, alfyn + olberic, alfyn + primrose. this last one i find so fun because alfyn is so bisexual to me i imagine him finding prim hot because honestly. which bisexual doesn’t?

Favorite headcanon: he’s trans. <3

RYUJI SAKAMOTO (persona 5)

First impression: this dude seems cool. i like his hair and swag (scoliosis)

Impression now: i want to look and be like him in the sense that i want to be rowdy and stupid and look cool. i’m already a lil bit machorra but i want more of that swag. sometimes when i wait at the bus stop i try to mimic how he stands in the game. HELP ME.

Favorite moment: when he leaves to grab a soda and burps just after yusuke reflects about his late mom’s painting of her with him on her arms WHY DID HE DO THAT????? STUPID.

Idea for a story: i could rewrite the entirety of persona 5 better. not because i know how to write but because i am a woman (kind of. it’s complicated)

Unpopular opinion: idk i’m not in the fandom either. and i just finished madarame’s arc LMFAO i’m NOWHERE in this game

Favorite relationship: y’know for headcanoning him as bisexual i actually don’t ship him with anyone super strongly.. i think ryuiji/joker (idk if the protag has a canon name or not yet) and he and yusuke are cute though but i haven’t met yusuke that much in order for me to think about if they’re compatible or nah to be honest it's funny that they both coincidentally have issues with their respective father figures. family trauma is so crazy.

Favorite headcanon: he’s bisexual absolutely. discussed it with a friend while playing and we both agree on the vision

Long post tw dream tw unreality tw child getting hurt tw assault(ish). Fucked up fucking dream.

Had such weird dreams last night…. So there’s this regular couple who comes into my work all the time on shrooms I love them but in the dream they would always come in with this annoying ass bird lol. they asked if I would watch or hold their like 6 million dollar paintings for them while they went on vacation for the weekend and they’d pay me a few hundred dollars??? and I was like sure ya but when they came by to drop them off they were like. Also you’re watching our bird. And I was like… uh.. okay? It was like a Mynah or crow or some clever corvid and so they leave and I’m chilling with friends and then the bird starts flying around the room and I’m like that’s probably not good lol and I’m trying to catch it and swearing at it and it’s just laughing at me and I’m like. Whatever, problem for later. So I’m chilling there w this girl and then it like dives into the bathtub which is full and I’m kinda panicking and screaming how stupid it is lol then it surfaces and changes into this like. Parrotfish looking thing?? Idek but I was just like ooooooh it’s one of THOSE goddAmn stupid thing. And it surfaces and looks at me and says “you’re not too bright yourself” and I’m like WHAT THE FUCK WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME YOU COULD TALK bc apparently birds changing into fish is nbd but talking fish is lmao. And it’s real lippy and is like you didn’t ask. And all I could say was fair point I guess and then we were all cool and chilling and the fish would sometimes change into a bird and fly around but I liked him now lol and we were all just shooting the shit and Then the birdfish was like wanna see something cool? And my friend grins at me and then the thing CHANGES INTO A BABY?? And I’m like yo WTF what else can u turn into?? And it’s like nuthin this is it lol wanna hold me? And I’m like fuck yeah! (VERY unrealistic I hate babies they scare me) and I’m like. Zooming it around like a toy airplane lol and my friend is telling me to be careful but I’m like no no I got this! Watch this! And I like balance it on my feet like an acrobat and it FUCKING FALLS HEADFIRST ONTO THE FLOOR and I’m like freaking out and I pick it up and half its skull is like. Mashed and dome shaped now 😭😭😭 and I try to cover the fucked up part with my hand so my friend can’t see and maybe like moosh it back into shape but it’s SO SQUISHY AND FAR TOO PLIABLE and I nearly vomit and give it back to the friend super fast who puts it in the tub and is like I TOLD U SO. And the baby just changes back into the fish and is like lol that was fucked up. And I’m like IM SO SORRY!! And it’s like nah I’m fine I was just messing with you but I was sitting there like 🫁👁👄👁 I have to go to bed lol.

So then it’s the day before I have to go give the paintings back and I’ve been keeping them in the basement and I go down there and there’s just a party happening?? In my basement?? And I’m like whatever sick lol I don’t know anyone here but I’m sure it’s fine so I start drinking like a fish and this old lady is like asking me about the paintings and the bird/fish/baby and I’m like… uh… idk if I should tell you all that and she’s like no no it’s okay! I’m friends with them! And I’m just like oh okay sure! And I chat a little but she’s giving me weird vibes so I go over to the corner where I stashed the paintings (they were just like stylistic gold faces with blue and purple and pink and orange clouds I’m gonna try and draw them later) and there’s this giant hulking man in traditional Russian dress who’s like. Leering at me and I’m trying to ignore him so I just reach past him to grab the box they’re in and he grabs my arm? And is like “what brings a pretty thing like you to a place like this” and I’m like. Uh the paintings… and he’s like “a little thief?? You know what we do to thieves around here??” And I’m panicking a little cause he’s still got my arm and I’m like bro I live here! And he’s like oh pardon, my name is Gustav (Gregor? Something beginning w a G) please, Drink with me! And I’m like uh okay cause I don’t really feel like I can say no so I skip off and grab a bottle of wine that for some reason I know is drugged?? Or maybe it was just absinthe idrk but he takes a huge swig and I’m like hehehe… yess… and then gives it to me and is like. Now you. Drink. All fucking scary like and I’m like uuuuuuuh okay so I DO? I ALSO swig the drugged wine and he’s leering at me again and I’m like well nothing for it. Gotta seduce him so I’m like asking him what a big strong man like him is doing here and rubbing all up on him and he’s eating it up meanwhile I’m also like pushing drink after drink into his hand and he’s tossing em back (to give a reference of this man’s size I’m giving him solo cups and they look like Dixie cups in his hand) and he like swings his arm around me and is telling me he’s getting sleepy and I’m like oh well perfect! You just rest right here and I’ll be right back to help you get comfortable ;) and he kinda slumps over and I squirm away and grab the paintings and fucking HIGHTAIL it out of the basement

But by now it’s 6 or 7am lmao and it’s time for the couple to pick up their paintings (also pretty sure there was a break in and armed robbers at some point but that part is fuzzy) and im still fucking wasted and trying to find my way thru the house and she’s waiting at the kitchen counter super impatiently and just tapping her foot and glaring at me, and I plop the box down on the counter and im like here they are safe and sound and she FLIPS she’s like “YOU WERE KEEPING THESE IN THE BASEMENT? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH THEYRE WORTH!?” And im like uh yeah? Don’t worry they’re safe and fine they’re in a box and cardboard sleeve and she just like stops dead and glares at me with the fire of a thousand suns and is like “you little rat…. You switched them out, didn’t you!!!” And I’m like. Still SO fucking drunk and I’m like lady what the hell are you talking about. Look at them. They’re the same. And I’m trying to argue with her about how could I have done that w a forgery in 2 fuck days but she doesn’t want to hear it and just grabs the box and storms out and I’m like chasing after her like BRO you gotta pay me do you know what I did to keep those safe!! And she’s like oooh I’m sure they’re safe in your little hidey hole somewhere and leaves and I’m just standing there like ????? And I hear a “yoo hoo!” And look over and the weird old lady from the party is there and holding the struggling bird baby fish while it’s changing rapidly between the 3 states and she grins evilly at me and disappears and I’m just. So tired and exhausted and drunk lol and then I wake up.

Anyway if u read this far amazing hope you enjoyed my fucked ur Covid dreams

Rue & Elliot Spicy Headcanons

(Kinda? Idk what the hell this is anymore honestly 😂)

Set in the ‘Because Of You’ Universe

18+ Only Minors DNI

• “I feel like you don’t wanna fuck me.” Elliot blurts out.

Rue draws in a breath. “Why do you think that?”

“I don’t know,” Elliot huffs, turning to look at her. “It’s fine, you know? I like the stuff we do.”

“I mean I like it too,” Rue admits. “It’s just kinda fucking hard to explain.”

“Try,” Elliot whispers.

“Like,” she pauses. “I’m only attracted to someone I have strong feelings for. I wouldn’t fuck someone just to fuck them.”

“You only wanna fuck people you love?” Elliot asks.

“Sounds kinda stupid when you say it out loud.”

“I don’t think that’s stupid, Rue.”

Rue rolls her eyes.

“Come on, it’s sweet.”

“Fuck off.”

“Have you ever been in love with a guy before?”

“Nah,” Rue tells him, “just you.”

• “Tell me if I hurt you.”

Rue shakes her head at him, “you are not gonna hurt me.” This is definitely not her first rodeo. “Tell me if I hurt you,” she challenges.

“You got teeth down here or something I should know about?”

Rue let’s a slow smile spread across her lips, “find out.”

“Ooo,” they’ve never, ever done this. If she doesn’t like it they’ll never, ever do it again.

“Don’t be weird.”

“Sorry,” he snorts.

She pulls him down for a kiss.

Elliot’s in deep shit, he’s in love with his best friend, and her girlfriend, and her ex. Who has great tits and the same hair cut as Kurt Cobain.

• “Hey, show me that pussy eating thing. Y/N was really enjoying that.” Rue says, interrupting their comfortable silence.

“Yeah, sure.” Elliot puts his guitar aside. “Come here.”

“Oh,” Rue hesitates, “I didn’t mean…you don’t have to-”

He half smiles, “I want to, Rue. It’s ok.”

Her shoulders rise and fall in a shrug, “what the hell.” Rue kicks off her shoes.

“Here, leave your shirt on. Just do your pants.”

Elliot gets it, gets her. Rue’s not an overly sexual person, she’s gotta be like in the mood. Rue prefers Y/N and Jules, but that’s never bothered him. She loves him in whatever way she loves him, and it’s more than enough.

“Oh fuck.”

“Mhm,” Elliot hums in appreciation. “But also,” he flicks his tongue again.

“That’s…yeah.” Rue nods, fingers fisted in his curls. “That’s amazing.”

From Simmer to Score

Pairing: Soft!Curtis Everett x Reader

Summary: Curtis is good with his hands. And other stuff.

Warnings: 18+ only, explicit, smut, oral sex, penetration, fingering, dub con breeding, unprotected sex, breeding kink sort of, size kink, petite!reader, Curtis' fingers

Word count: 4k

A/N: This doesn't really fit the prompt i chose from @stargazingfangirl18 's 5k Soft Dark Challenge: "You hire a local handyman to help you with a few home projects." But the prompt still inspired this. I wanted to take the prompt somewhere more explicitly dark but once again my contribution to this challenge turned marshmallow soft. This is an au, non-apocalypse au, normal life au, idk. Just self-indulgent. Also, it was a struggle finding a gif of clean Curtis. Because he's clean in this and not living on a train, i swear.

“Try again. Very good. Let’s have you run through the exercises and then we’ll take a look at the new homework."

At your smile, the little girl nods and quickly turns to concentrate on coordinating her footwork on the pedals of your old Altenberg while reading the notes in front of her.

You back away, heading to the kitchen for some iced tea. You nearly forget your other guest who sits at the table.

This is the third time he’s accompanied Wendy for her lessons. For a man of his size, Curtis makes no sound except the faint swish of pages turning in his book. Like before, he arrived with Wendy, nodded a greeting at you, waited for your invitation to the kitchen, and then spent the entire hour silently reading.

You pull the fridge door open and pour tea into three glasses. You quietly slide one towards him. Curtis’ eyes flicker up to you, brilliantly blue, and he gives you a low murmur.

“Thanks.”

You’re about to return to Wendy when you hear your name in Curtis’ smooth baritone.

He nods to the notepad left on the table. “I, uh, noticed your reminder to call for maintenance. Something wrong?”

“Oh.” You tidy up the table, sheepish at being caught procrastinating house chores. “Just needed a second look at the water heater. The repair company came by and we tested things out when they were done, but the next day I had no hot water.”

You grimace, thinking of taking another cold shower.

“If you’re okay with it, I can grab my tool bag from my car and take a look,” he says.

You’re not prepared for the offer. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

He shakes his head, no hesitance. “I don’t mind at all. As long as you don’t.”

“I mean. I-I would really appreciate the help.”

Your time with Wendy ends after you review practice goals with her until her next lesson.

Curtis joins you two. “Hot water is running again.”

Your jaw drops and you skip to the kitchen. Hot water pours out of your faucet. You return, unable to resist grinning widely at him.

“Thank you, Curtis. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Curtis taught my dad everything about fixing houses!” Wendy chirped. He offers her a crooked smile.

“Do you have everything?” you ask your young pupil.

While Wendy thanks you and you help her pack, Curtis watches on with a faint curve to his lips.

“Edgar’s changing over to late shifts for the next couple of months. I’ll probably be driving Wendy to lessons again.”

You nod. “Sounds good. See you both then.”

After they leave, you enjoy a glorious steamy shower and then you settle onto your couch with a plate of leftover grilled veggies and fish.

Reviewing your schedule, you consider taking on one or two more students. It was years ago that you gave private lessons to help pay for college. Nearly a decade of moving between a few jobs, you are now in a quiet suburb working with a team of digital designers. The job allows you to work from home half the week, a flexibility you take great appreciation in. The professional stability encouraged you to return to music and to helping others develop their musical interests.

Wendy is your only student at the moment as you want to ease into taking on this additional responsibility. You smile, recalling your initial meeting with Wendy and her father, Edgar. Her father’s bubbly energy is such a stark contrast to Curtis. Edgar opened up quickly, sharing that he and Wendy’s mother were no longer together, that he would support whatever Wendy wanted to do. There was a perpetually youthful vigor to the room when Edgar was present.

Wendy calls Curtis, Uncle, and his adoration for her is clear. He barely said two words when he was here the first time. It doesn’t bother you. You get the impression Curtis purposely tries to not draw attention to himself, and you can empathize with that preference for tranquility.

_ _ _ _

It’s a windy day, heavy with rain clouds, the next time Wendy and Curtis are over.

“I saw your screen door was down. Planning on replacing it?” Curtis asks when you wrap up with Wendy.

“Nah. I was just going to look up what I would need and try fixing it myself.”

“It’s kind of heavy.”

His tone doesn’t imply any skepticism aimed at you and you’re not offended. You’re used to people calling you ‘small,’ though you’re not small so much as you’re short. You like to think you take up ample space. You also admit strength is not something you have in abundance. Your whole life you relied on family and friends for a lot of literal heavy lifting. But Curtis already helped you out once.

“I could fix it up.”

“I won’t ask you to do that.”

“It’s no bother, really. I’m happy to help out.”

He promises to be quick about it. While he works, Wendy happily practices on your piano.

“I have Oreos,” you announce.

She pauses to grab a cookie. “Thank you so much for letting me practice longer.”

“Of course, dear.”

She chats a bit about her upcoming birthday plans, as children are wont to do.

Curtis pops his head in. “All set. Do you want to take a look?”

You follow him out back. Swinging the screen door on its hinges, you nodded appraisingly.

“I suppose it passes inspection.” You look up with a cheeky smile, pleased to see Curtis’ lips twitching. “Thank you. Really, Curtis. I do wish you’d let me pay you.”

He shakes his head. “It’s nothing. Besides, you’re great with Wendy. I’m grateful for that.”

You can tell he loves Wendy just as much as if he was her father. “In that case, I shall give Wendy her next lesson for free.”

He blinks at you, trailing behind as you make your way inside and calling out to Wendy.

Curtis has resigned himself to a quiet, bare life. He doesn't think he wants anything much. He has Edgar’s loyalty, a result of the brotherhood he formed in his impoverished teen years. They survived together, looked out for each other. Once Wendy came along like a little star burning in a smoggy midnight, Curtis counted himself lucky to witness the little girl growing up. A chance to help nourish one seed.

The first time he arrived with Wendy at your home, Curtis couldn’t help listening in on the entire lesson, making no progress in his book. Your clear voice, your generous encouragement. You, light on your feet moving so swiftly. You, barely reaching his shoulders yet mighty in spirit, curvy and sensuous. Curtis had an urge to lift you in his palms to be stored safely in his pocket.

_ _ _ _

And so things follow. Wendy diligently learning and Curtis primarily accompanying her, taking his place at your kitchen table. You come to enjoy his steady, grounding presence just a couple steps away from you and Wendy.

Now and then, he’ll notice some upkeep you’re doing – a leaky faucet, a box of new light bulbs on your counter – and volunteer his assistance. You are reluctant to put him to work, sure that he spends enough of his days working and doing chores in his own home and besides these are tasks you can handle even if you find them tedious. Curtis is always gentle in his offers, always obtains your permission first. As time goes by and you grow less shy about accepting his help and he grows more comfortable in your space, you realize working with his hands is second nature to Curtis.

It doesn't take long for Curtis to admit to himself he wants to be near you.

Curtis doesn’t meddle. He doesn’t mingle. He doesn’t have any interest in widening his social circle. He is aware you thrived on your own for a long time, just like him; and like he has Edgar and Wendy, you have a small close-knit group of friends. Lending a hand to you doesn’t count because you are like him.

Maybe this is why he lets his guard down under your roof. There is something kindred in your calm nature that his soul responds to. Under your roof, no silences need to be filled; no pretenses forced upon him. Your invitation to rest is unspoken – he hears it and almost weeps. The more time he spends with you, like two wavelengths in tune, the stronger his urge to insert himself. To fix, or in some way leave his mark on your home. Curtis doesn’t have any interest in widening his social circle. Lending a hand to you didn't count. Until he cannot help it. He doesn’t reach out for you, doesn’t try to prove you’ll curve perfectly within his arms; but he’ll ensure your softness can curl up in a sturdy home and delight in simple pleasures.

One evening, when Edgar works later than usual, you ask if Wendy and Curtis would join you for dinner.

“Nothing fancy. I have some noodle soup and salad. Curtis, can you call Edgar to meet us here?”

Wendy sets the table. Curtis assists with the food.

He’s quick to cup your hand in his when it's nicked with a knife. You can’t help leaning into him as he runs your finger under water, wraps it in clean paper towel. He finishes with the salad, making you sit at the table.

Edgar joins you all, tired but quickly gaining energy with food and a few sips of wine. You are full and warmed by their company. While Edgar cheers on Wendy while she practices from her book, you feel Curtis’ fingers curl over your hand. His thumb brushes over your cut. You share a smile with him.

_ _ _ _

You settle into your little Toyota only to find it won’t start. It stumps you because you never had issues with this car before. You have no experience with car maintenance and don’t know the first thing to check for an engine that won’t wake.

Calling Curtis to see if you can reschedule, he insists that he can swing by to pick you up.

He had called you, his voice almost shy. He wanted to surprise Wendy for her birthday with a piano and asked for your help.

You direct Curtis to the string instruments shop in the city’s downtown area. The two of you are greeted by a sales staff upon entry. When asked, Curtis looks to you, wordless, so you do your best to describe to the salesperson what you're looking for.

There are several options of acoustic and digital instruments. You give little demonstrations on a few pianos that you consider reasonably priced.

“Curtis, check this one out.” Your hold on his sleeve is loose and propels him towards one of the upright Baldwin pianos.

“I think any of these would suit Wendy. The sounds are clear, and they don’t take up too much space. The salesperson said this one is second-hand and it’s in really good shape.” You press a few chords, then look up at Curtis with a smile.

He looks at you, gaze gentle. “I’m not worried about price. I’ll take whatever you recommend.”

That was his general response when you asked his opinion during your time in the shop: he was up for anything you recommended. Other than that, he trailed behind you so that the salesperson assumed you were the primary purchaser. Much like in your house, Curtis seemed to try hard to not draw attention. Oddly, you didn’t think anyone in the same room with him could help noticing him. Even with the dark apparel he favored, Curtis’ reserved nature can't hide all the intensity and strength just thrumming beneath the surface of his tall imposing build.

You convince him to sit beside you on the bench. He’s never played before, but humors you and tries random combinations of thirds with you. You watch his hands – clean, wide, with thick fingers – hover and slide along the keys.

He nudges you.

“Sorry. I was just impressed your sausage fingers are quite nimble.”

A half-hearted glare. “Thank you. For coming with me.”

“If I say you’re welcome, will you take a look at my car when we get back?”

He stays for dinner.

It starts raining and you have to rush out to gather hanging linens. He helps and you both run back inside. You're giddy at his eagerness to assist, resulting in damp clothing on you both.

“Oh, let’s dump it here. I’ll fold it tomorrow.” You are happy to leave the laundry in a pile on an armchair, in too good of a mood to care.

You catch him with his attention on you, a look so soft you have to look away, walk blindly a few steps. His touch is on your arm, turning you around just as you reach the piano.

He dips his head low to press chapped lips to yours, capturing your lips more, closing in to envelope you in his heat.

Curtis’ hands grip your hips with a quick jostle against the piano, prompting a slur of bright notes ringing from the keyboard that you are pressed against. And then he’s hitching you further up and firmly in his arms. His tongue licks against yours. You slant your open mouth, inviting him to taste, to devour you from the inside out. Your legs wrap around his waist like you belong there, tethered to this point in time. There’s no past or future, only Curtis, only feeling safe and real in his arms now now now.

You barely register Curtis moving, tipping you onto the couch cushions to hover over you so close. You can’t remember burning for someone like this. You can’t remember much of anything, focused on Curtis, solid and unyielding between your thighs, muscles buzzing with raw strength.

You want so badly to know more of him. Your hands wander shamelessly under his shirt, sliding up his wide back, grazing under to squeeze appreciatively at his pecs only to be called south by a narrowing of hair that leads you on until you bump his belt buckle.

You’re distracted by the tease of hot kisses he drops along your neck. There’s something sweet, vulnerable in how you allow him access to the delicate skin there. It makes Curtis bury his nose against the crook of your jaw, a long moment for him to whisper something like a prayer, before his tongue swirls and he nibbles your ear lobe. Your high pitched gasp hastens his desire. Your shirt is gone. Your bra untangled from your arms. Your breasts, oh, Curtis takes a mouthful of one fleshy breast, sucking greedily when you moan, breathless and aching now.

You claw at his shirt until it too disappears. You wriggle to help Curtis pull your pants and underwear off. Your legs want to yank him back to you, but he braces himself to allow just a bit more space between you both than before.

“Let me.” It’s almost a growl, and you want to say yes, but you want to kiss him more. You’re clinging by his neck, drinking from his soft lips, until you both part to draw breath.

His hand caresses your cheek, sliding over to slip two fingers into your slack mouth. Your tongue swipes at them, lips close to suck them in, eager to touch and taste any part of him. Jaw tight, Curtis pulls his fingers away and down. Down. His hand spans large over your curves and you hold your breath, grit your teeth. One finger saturated with saliva, sinks into your cunt. You swear you can feel more arousal dripping from you to soak his hand and he adds another finger, drawing short whimpers from you as his fingers withdraw and plunge in. God, you won’t ever tease him about his fingers again because they’re perfect. Agonizing in their quest to undo you.

His voice is husky groans, wanting so bad to feel your oh so tight cunt around his cock. Soon.

He tortures you, adds a third finger. You’re riding them, whimpering as he pumps them in you and parts the digits to stretch you. His weight slides away and you can only grasp at his hair, you’re barely glimpsing his head between your legs before you arch high when his thick wet tongue swirls and licks your folds, dialing up the white hot blooming inside you. His fingers curl just enough inside to press that patch against your pelvis that strings you tight as a bow. Pressing insistently, scratching with finger pads, until you burst and all you can do is chase more of that pulsing pleasure, humping against his face. Your hips quiver while Curtis laps at your slit.

His sucks grow gentle, thumb teasing your bud, helping you come down from the intense high.

You sigh his name.

“I’m here.”

“I want you.”

His arms wind around you, holding you tight while he kisses you. You can’t remember feeling anything better than being cradled like this as Curtis languidly kisses you.

He’s not rushed to move from you, so you cling to him and he loves you for it. Yes, he’s hard, but he wants to savor this. Already high on the sensation of your soft flesh underneath him, your thick thighs tight at his waist, your quiet hums of pleasure the evidence of his thorough work.

He ran from his past, from early years strife with despair, washing away those memories like dust and grime. He thought his life of isolation was one that moved him forward; but he has been stuck all this time.

Seeing you care for Wendy, Curtis realized he wanted that. He wanted what his friend had. He wanted you, and the precious something conceived between two souls that sing for one another. Soon. He’ll make your sweet little body his to protect, to warm through the nights.

_ _ _ _

“Thanks so much for having us for dinner,” Edgar says. He was been watching Wendy run around your humble backyard, chasing butterflies and searching for little frogs. He turns to you with a toothy grin. “And for your help with the gift. Wendy’s going to flip. I’m lucky to have you and Curtis both around.”

Your smile is just as affectionate. “Happy to have you here. Although,” your smile turns sly, “I’m a little disappointed that your special lady friend didn’t join us.”

“Curtis,” Edgar mutters under his breath. Curtis is washing dishes at the sink and pays no mind to any half-hearted curses directed at him.

Your brow arches, urging Edgar to talk as he can't help an embarassed grin.

“Well, she was traveling for work, unfortunately. But I know Wendy doesn’t mind her.”

The girl has whispered to you that Edgar’s girlfriend is beautiful and she wished she would become her new mom; this you keep to yourself, not wishing to embarrass or pressure your friend further.

“I’m happy to hear that.”

Edgar’s eyes slide sideways, quiet for a moment before he jumps out of his seat and heads to the door leading to the backyard. “I’ll just…uh…” He exits, trailing off without finishing his sentence.

You sigh and take another bite of your cake, indulging in the moist chocolate flavor. Glancing up, you find Curtis watching you. His attention is singular, a warm simmer in those bright blue eyes, causing you to freeze except for your tongue that finishes sweeping over your upper lip. His gaze narrows, grew weighty, tracking your tongue as it retreats into your mouth. He pushes away from the counter, steps close until he is able to drop to his knee beside your chair. One strong yank has your seat turning so you face him.

The door creaks open again.

“Well, the sun’s getting low so I think we’ll head home and wind down.” Edgar announces with his daughter close at his side. He has a boyish grin on his face, pulling Wendy towards the front of your house. "Wendy, say good bye.”

“Isn’t Curtis leaving too?”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll leave when he’s ready.”

“Have a good night, you two,” you say, walking with them to the front. Though Edgar is still cheerfully thanking you for the meal and insisting you stay inside and not see them off.

“You go on and just have a good time, both of you.” He sends a wink your way. You shake your head at him. “Curtis! You be a gentleman now.”

Quick as he can, he has Wendy secured in the car and they are on their way.

“Huh.” You lock the front door before turning to find Curtis. You can tell he wants to roll his eyes at Edgar’s antics. Instead, he closes in on you.

“Are you worried about me not being a gentleman?” he murmurs. His fingers hook under yours loosely.

You smirk. “I’m worried about you being too much of a gentleman.”

That smolder returns to his gaze. For a second, your body shivers, overwhelmed and you side step him, if only for a moment’s relief from the heat of his eyes.

You reach out. He takes your hand.

Once you’re down a layer, he grows even hotter seeing the mesh and lace number you have on. A tantalizing tease with the hard peaks of your nipples veiled in barely-there maroon. Just daring him to unwrap you. So he does.

His mouth leaves a wet trail seeking sensitive spots on your neck, you breasts, your thighs. Even as he moves, he still covers nearly all of your body, his heat and weight drowning you in want.

Your shudder has him grazing his beard up the inside of your thigh so that you arch and plea for his touch. God, all your uninhibited responses spur the blazing hunger in him. Curtis peels the mesh underwear down, impatient for a taste of you. His mouth waters, catching wafts of arousal and then he’s sucking and lapping your wet pussy. His rumbling groan is like a physical nudge that bows your back, and you remain rigid in the air at the sensation of his thick tongue pushing into you. Wide shoulders part your legs, shifting until your thighs rest on vast muscles.

You rock against him, keen at the hard sucks. Two fingers dip into, fucking you and rubbing with a dizzying rhythm that brings you over the edge.

With little effort, he holds up your hips and you feel a pillow slide under you to angle you higher. Then his muscled arms hook under your knees and he finally lines up and rocks forward. The tip of his cock parts your folds. Your breath hitches. His cock slides in, forcing your walls to stretch, to mold tightly to his girth.

“Curtis” – your hand was going point to the little bedside table with condoms.

Instead, you’re gripping a blanket. Gasping as he withdraws and your pussy tries to hold him in.

You mumble against his lips, incoherent. “The…inside..”

And then he feeds you his length again. And again, that delicious, addicting friction.

"Yes, inside," he agrees softly. "Like this."

With every pump, the spark catches and blazes higher. Curtis rises onto his knees, thrusts harder, watching your eyes flutter open and shut. He’s panting with the pretty picture of a needy you. He grips your thighs. As if his life depends on how tight he clutches you. Concentrating hard, his eyes drop low. Fuck. He can see your pussy clench, your puffy outer lips suckling his cock. Curtis swears your little body is refusing to give him up, and you’re wet but your cunt squeezes him so tight he has to drive harder into you to avoid slipping out.

You’re not even aware of your breathy moans, so turned on by his groans, the rough thrusts he gives you. There’s no grinding. Curtis can tell he’s rubbed against your g-spot and he keeps his snapping hips angled just right, one callused thumb circling your clit too lightly. And then your breaths stutter, your legs seize, your back arches. Curtis grits his teeth, keeping the exact same pace, draws out the storm of your pleasure. It’s so consuming, you lose your voice.

Just as you are able to breathe again, able to sense the physical realm around you, Curtis speeds up, bucking hard with low grunts, powering into you.

A high gasp – you feel him flood you. He drops to press his chest to you, still pumping his release into your clenching walls; and it’s too much, his cock merciless within your sensitive channel. He can’t help it, even as your legs start writhing with his unrelenting stimulation, even as he hears your hitched whimpers.

He finally stills. His lips find yours, tongue stroking deep.

Long moments later, his name is gentle, falling from your lips. “We didn’t use protection.”

Curtis nuzzles you, rubs his nose along the planes of your cheeks. Returns to suck your bottom lip. “It’s okay,” he whispers.

There’s a soft frown upon your brow that he kisses, and then scatters more kisses on your face.

“But, what if?”

“I want you. I want everything with you.”

You’re barely able to react as he nips hard at your collarbone and then rolls his hips. He’s half-hard inside you. You’re quickly losing yourself in Curtis, overwhelmed by the combination of his hungry mouth on your skin, unyielding clasp on your thigh. His thrusts persist, pins you in place, lights you up and scorches you. You’re right where he wants you, whining for more more more.

Now with each beat of his heart, Curtis has his mind’s eye on the prize. He’ll have you over and over. And you’ll grow a piece of him inside you. You are the way forward. You are his.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Hurrah, this one felt like it took forever. I blame Curtis. He didn't give himself up to me easily. Let me love you, ya broody boi! Thank you for reading!

10 Anti LO Asks

1. wait is arion a human or horse in this comic

From OP: Horse.

2. rachel is really outdoing herself by not just ripping off hercules, but sleeping beauty too. she also got mad people noticed a lot of elements seemed straight ripped from frozen as well awhile back, and obvs the fifty shades rip offs are too obvious to ignore. i realize yes a lot of stories will share tropes and all, but not directly ripped plots like rachel is doing. that's so unprofessional and just lazy.

3. if hera and zeus have to lock away their own child for the sake of making sure persephone stays the pure precious bean she is and is never be ~badly influenced~ by her then thats absolutely insane. was it really too much to let persephone, THE DREAD QUEEN, have any complexity that rachel has resorted to throwing ANOTHER woman under the bus than let her self insert have even one flaw or even choice in the story? how does she keep making up the worst possible options for any of this?

4. Lowkey kinda hate how long it took for a real moment for Hera Hestia and Demeter to be together as sisters. Hera set up Persephone and hades knowing Damn well Hestia and Demeter made her a Candidate for TOGeM. Other than staying a Virgin forever and having temples idk what TOGeM actually does. Like we know why Demeter wants her daughter as a memeber but what’s the actual functionality of the group. Hera just seems like a bad friend/sister for setting up her friends daughter with an older guy just because she felt bad for using that guy as a bad up when he marriage gets bad.

Don’t get me wrong the other cast members suck I’m just singling out Hera right now for her involvement in the plot so far 

5. FP mention

///

Btw the fact that Persephone looks like a teenager for the rest of her life and that she was blessed with beauty TWICE is REALLY fucked up. Like what Rachel wants to say???? That teenage girls are the most attractive??? And we shouldn't blame grown-ass men who wants to date them bc they're so much prettier than grown women??? I really don't understand. Or her double-beauty means that her tits are bigger from everyone else's?? Bc apart from that I don't get why Persephone should be more beautiful than Aphrodite(who tbh also looks terrible here Rachel spares no one with her ugly-ass style) when she's literally looks like a kid.

6. I honestly hope there's a major shakeup at WT (hopefully while RS is on her break) and they adopt a longer break between episodes so not only are they allowed more time to focus on the story but the art as well, but also an overhaul in the payment + benefit system. So many of the creators, even the popular ones, are struggling with horrible hours and no benefits, despite making the company millions. Hell, let them unionize. That would be a huge win and draw for new, better talent to want in too.

7. nah nope those fp spoilers better be fake because thats legit too stupid to be true. like we already know rachel is a shit writer but thats just so bad on so many levels. we know her editor is not getting through to her because they literally have a degree in writing and you know theyd pop a blood vessel over any of this. they must only post the episodes for her because that legit wouldnt pass anyone with two brain cells.hooooly shit.

8. Even beyond how creepy it is Hades refers to Persephone as "Little Goddess"/"Kore" (🤢) it's also so patronizing? Sorry, I don't care how hot Persephone finds him or how meek RS forced her to be, any self respecting woman, no matter how young, wouldn't stand for being disrespected, belittled, and treated like that. Maybe RS can try and excuse it that Persephone IS that young to warrant the comments, but that just brings up the question of why Hades lusting after someone he sees as a child 🤔

9. the funniest part about rachel insisting persephone is the most beautiful goddess ever is that one) ok?? why would that matter?? but also two) every woman looks so carbon copied (minus athena) that even dedicated fans cant tell them apart so that doubly doesnt matter?? like then every woman is the twice blessed over with beauty because none of them look different from each other. idk the whole thing just screams 14 year old's first fanfic over a published comic by a woman pushing 40💀

10. Can someone tell me if Minthe has depth or not and explain why….Cause, I’m arguing with these fans and they’re getting a lil too confident 😑☹️ 

From OP: Kinda?? Like, most of the characters in LO aren’t very deep. So, Minthe having more to her than just “evil love rival/bitter ex” and having BPD can be seen as adding depth to her character. She is very morally grey antagonist and many people tend sympathize with her at times, even if they don’t like her. Someone else can probably elaborate more than I can.

BnHA Chapter 317: My Boy Was Just Like Me

Previously on BnHA: AFO randomly blew up Lady Nagant as a good reminder of why you should never make a deal with this fucking guy, smdh. Hawks was all “well if it isn’t my two best friends, Deku and Lady Nagant, both of whom I respect and love tremendously.” Everyone was all “??” and Horikoshi was all “shh... just pretend” because it was too embarrassing for him to admit that he forgot to write a couple of set-up flashbacks I guess. Anyway so Hawks got Lady to tell them where AFO was hiding out, and everyone said goodbye to her and Overhaul, who never did get to see his boss (sorry buddy, I’ll send you a vial of my tears in the mail), and headed out to a house in the woods. AFO was all “hello Deku :) :) it sure is fun making you suffer :) :) :) anyways this is a trap”, and blew up the house. Yeah, we all here are getting reaaaaaaaal tired of your shit, AFO.

Today on BnHA: The Hawksquad and Edgeplatoon meet in a warehouse and are all “what should we do about the fact that everything sucks?” Mt. Lady is all “here’s a thought, what if we tried battling AFO with more than six people.” Hawks and Endeavor are all “great initiative, but just a friendly reminder that our friends also suck and would probably betray Deku which would suck further still.” Shouto is all “ANSWER THE PHONE DAD” and Endeavor is all “[IRONICALLY DOESN’T ANSWER THE PHONE].” Meanwhile over in Sadtown, capital of Sadland Prefecture, Japan, Deku is all “All Might, as you can clearly see I am completely fine and good, never been better in fact, definitely not caught up in the throes of an epic mental breakdown which is shutting me down emotionally, anyway so on that note I would like to leave you now goodbye!!” All Might is all “[can’t actually form any words because he’s too distraught].” Fandom is all “o(╥﹏╥)o.” Horikoshi is all “(*＾-’) 乃 [pew pew finger guns and barrel rolls into the darkness].”

sweet jesus lord

this literally doesn’t even look like Deku anymore?? this looks like Dark!Deku who shows up to fight you in that one room in the Water Temple. he looks like he’s about to crawl out of my television set and murder me with his psychic powers good lord

holy shit lmao Horikoshi is really just shrugging his shoulders and resolving last week’s cliffhanger with a single line of dialogue

fire is no one’s weakness. idk what other options you’ve got, AFO, but you’re gonna have to go back to the drawing board. maybe try bees or something. I’m just saying. we’re all expecting fire at this point but nobody is expecting bees

anyway so now they’re all sitting in some warehouse somewhere chatting about it I guess. shoutout to Horikoshi for finally giving my man Edgeshot some more dialogue at long last

well, Edgeshot, to answer your question, she exploded. so naturally she’s fine

nah just kidding, Hawks says she won’t be able to help them out much because she’s recovering from being exploded. this is the part where we all ignore the fact that Hawks got set on fire for like a full ten minutes back during the War arc and was only in the hospital for a day. anyways enjoy your temporary plot hiatus Nagant

man there’s a lot of dialogue here and I’m trying to figure out where to insert commentary but it’s kinda difficult lol. basically, Edge and the others are saying that they should gather up the other remaining heroes and get them all caught up on the whole OFA situation. which, hmmmm

like on the one hand, these guys definitely aren’t going to cut it on their own, so it’s a reasonable suggestion on the face of it. but on the other hand, do we really want to entrust the OFA secret to a bunch of other people, most of whom shat the bed during the War arc to be quite frank? is it really worth the additional risk? especially given that any one of them might go spilling the beans to the public -- or worse, betray them to AFO??

also just a quick side note here, Mt. Lady’s character development never ceases to delight me. she’s become so committed to her responsibility as a hero these days, and it fucking suits her. I genuinely consider to be one of the elites now. I mean it doesn’t hurt that all the other elites are fucking dead lol but still

wait what? Death Arms retired??

Death Arms as in the guy who was too afraid of a little fire to try and save a terrified 14-year-old kid who was slowly suffocating right before his eyes?? that Death Arms???? color me surprised. shocked, I tell you

...okay but holy fuck

Death Arms. bro. my expectations for you were low but holy shit. like I’m sorry, but I don’t even have it in me to try and pretend like I feel the slightest bit of sympathy for him or Old Man Samurai or any of those other guys today. thanks for a whole lot of nothing my dude. good riddance

(ETA: so I’m rereading this the next day and realize this comes off as kind of harsh, so let me just try to clarify. it’s not the fact that he’s quitting that bothers me, to be honest. it’s the fact that he’s quitting specifically because he feels like the public is being mean to him. that’s it.

seriously. it would be one thing if he was quitting because he was scared, because now that is human. nobody wants to die, and I doubt any amount of training can ever fully prepare someone to go up against that fear. but the thing is, he never once mentions that, or talks about the danger aspect. instead, I got the distinct vibe from this speech that Death Arms is one of those people who only became a hero because of the limelight. and I just don’t have any patience for that. if all you care about are likes and subscribes then go become a fucking youtuber or some shit. nothing wrong with that! but you didn’t; you signed up to be a hero and protect these people. they gave you their respect and admiration because they trusted you to protect them. and now that they’re no longer in the mood to worship and applaud your every move on account of them being scared shitless because they’re living in the literal end times, you decide to dip. so like okay, fine then. don’t let the door hit you on the way out. anyways lol sorry for the rant.)

anyway so yeah. perfect example of why I don’t exactly have a ton of faith in most of the remaining heroes out there lol. also let me just once again give a shoutout to my best girl Mt. Lady whom I suddenly find myself appreciating all the more

“please calm down makeste. drink some water and enjoy this fresh new jeans pun” listen Horikoshi don’t tell me what to do dammit

fine. it is a nice pun, I guess

-- damn so now Endeavor’s saying that the media is already being fed info by the retired heroes. so for some of these guys it wasn’t enough for them to abandon all the people they swore to protect and to leave their fellow heroes out in the cold; they decided they might as well actively make things worse for them while they were at it, huh. like I get wanting to spill all the dirty secrets from your old job that you just quit, but this isn’t Jeff Bezos you’re screwing over, this is a sixteen-year-old kid

-- like, yes!! this, right here!!

exactly!! let’s not forget that there are already two prior instances of this happening. Endeavor arguably deserved it, but Katsuki not so much

huh. Endeavor seems to have a more optimistic outlook regarding this than I do lol

I mean, this is the same public that didn’t hesitant to blame a kidnapped child for his own kidnapping, and then later on for being the downfall of the Symbol of Peace. but okay then

anyway so blah blah blah, more talk about how they need to use Deku as bait, which basically puts them back at square one, and then they’re all just trailing off into silence and sitting around in the dark lmao this is getting very depressing

SKDJFLSDKJ:LFKJ

SHOUTO?????

NOOOOOOOO ARE YOU KIDDING ME

OH HOW THE TURNTABLES OMG. THE GHOSTER HAS BECOME THE GHOSTEE. Endeavor you petty son of a bitch. and what a brutal cut to that flashback too. “let’s stop Touya together” nah Shouto I’ve got a better idea why don’t I abandon you in U.A. and sally off with Hawks and Jeanist to found the “let’s pretend like we’re doing something to help Deku” club, which basically consists of us sitting around making terrible decisions all day long

Shouto, honey. you deserve better my little Coca Cola can. .........but if you really do have something important you need to tell your dad you could just text it to him. all the love and support, hugs and kisses, you’re doing amazing sweetie. but if you need to pass on any vital information you can just write it down and hit send honey that’s all I’m saying love

now he’s getting another call?? -- or, no, Hawks is getting a call from All Might

ARE YOU FOR REAL HAWKS OMFG

so while you all were sitting around talking about how useless you are, the kid you’re supposed to be protecting was battling another hired gun. I see. please pardon me for one second, I have a phone call to make. the phone call is to RockLockRock and Manual. the reason for the call is to apologize for calling them the worst bodyguards ever back during the War arc. the reason for the apology is because it turns out I WAS SEVERELY MISTAKEN OMFG

JESUS CHRIST DEKU DID YOU JUST KILL THIS MAN LMAO

shoutout to Horikoshi for offscreening this fight. we get it, lol. Deku strong and scary, villains ineffectual and feeble, and AFO... [checks notes] yep, still a dick. the angst arc continues

-- the angst arc continues, SIR

jesus christ I may have to rethink all of my opinions about Deku being framed for murder in movie 3 lmao. never mind. he did it, your honor

holy fucking shit Deku. “he might blow up, so please be careful” fdlskjflk jlskdjflk lwkejflk anyway so I’ve decided the explosion running gag can stay, actually

DEKU WAIT YOU FORGOT YOUR LUNCH!!

lol why do I get the feeling some serious shit is about to go down. ALL MIGHT NEVER MIND BACK OFF I THINK HE NEEDS HIS SPACE

OH MY FUCK I GASPED OUT LOUD

NO NO NO. I KNEW THIS WAS COMING GODDAMMIT BUT NO. NEVER MIND, I CHANGED MY MIND ABOUT IT, I’M NOT READY TO CRY TODAY

shit. shit shit shit shit and OF COURSE all I can fucking think about is that stupid fucking prophecy and gahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Deku please. please please please if you really are going to leave All Might here, please be so very careful in choosing your farewell words to him now because have this sudden horrible fear that this might be the last time you ever see him alive and oh god. oh god oh god

DEKU NO, YOU’RE REALLY NOT!?!?

I HAVE NEVER SEEN ANYONE LESS FINE IN MY LIFE, ACTUALLY????

holy shit. and the fucking callback to the prophecy now. just in case we forgot. WHICH FYI, WE DIDN’T. but that’s basically confirming that this is all still very much on the table and HORIKOSHI NEVER FORGETS oh my god someone please hold me

and the fact that Deku’s flashing back to it now too, though?? because he never forgot either, because of course he didn’t, and now all this stuff is happening, and AFO’s words are getting to him, and this is literally his worst fear come to life and so of course he’s distancing himself from everyone, and now it’s finally come to even this. even the person he admires most

-- OKAY NO, FUCKING COME ON ALREADY I CAN’T TAKE THIS

I GET IT OH MY GOD, I ALREADY UNDERSTAND THE EMOTIONAL IMPACT OF THIS MOMENT WITHOUT ALL OF THE DEVASTATING FLASHBACKS THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH!! YOU ACTUALLY DO WANT ME TO CRY, HUH, IS THAT IT. THIS MAN THAT HE THINKS OF AS A FATHER, THIS MAN WHO HAS BEEN EVERYTHING TO HIM SINCE HE WAS A VERY YOUNG CHILD. EVERYTHING THEY’VE BEEN THROUGH, JUXTAPOSED AGAINST EVERYTHING DEKU IS UP AGAINST, EVERYTHING THAT’S AT RISK. LET’S JUST PUT IT ALL SIDE BY SIDE. LET’S JUST PILE ON ALL OF THE FEELS

(ETA: just a quick note that even though some of the posts I’ve read have described these as All Might’s flashbacks, I’m pretty sure they are Deku’s. most of these are scenes that only he was there for, so yeah. even though All Might is the one thinking the thoughts on the next page, the flashbacks are what’s running through Deku’s mind right now, and so we’re getting that emotion from both of them, which makes it extra devastating lol.)

wait, what???

WHAT??? do you really think that’s why he’s been so determined to protect you this entire time?? simply because you’re his successor?

-- oh no wait lol I think I got that mixed up, this is All Might saying that Deku feels the need to protect him. well that makes more sense lol

oh my god I cannot

his last words. his last words to him. and we can’t even see if he is smiling, like All Might always encouraged him to do. but what are the odds he can’t actually bring himself to do it. what are the odds he’s actually crying. oh god this scene is going to rip my heart out and STOMP on it in the anime isn’t it. Deku’s VA is going to full on murder me with emotion. not that there’ll be much of me left to murder after the thorough job that Horikoshi has already done here

YOU’RE CRYING. DEKU IS LEAVING ALL MIGHT AND IGNORING HIS OUTSTRETCHED HAND AND YOU’RE CRYING. AND BY “YOU” I MEAN “ME”, FUCK

nope nope nope nope nope nope nope nope nope no words just feels just a big ol’ pile of feels. I do not have the strength. future me... [broadly gestures] good luck with all that

(ETA: LOL, WELL THEN.

what breaks my heart here is All Might. All Might, and everything he’s been through, and history repeating itself, and forcing him to live this moment from both sides because he wasn’t strong enough to fix things.

Toshinori had only just turned eighteen when Nana died. like, I feel like we don’t mention this enough. the All Might we know is a sixty-something-year-old man, and so everyone always talks about him like he’s basically been an adult forever. but he was a child when he met Nana. and he was still just a child when she died. barely a year older than Deku is now. younger than Mirio was when we first met him.

and we don’t talk about that. we don’t talk about how devastating that was for him. and we don’t talk about how the reason he grew up to become so reserved and withdrawn -- for all that he always tried so hard to outwardly project the image of a bold, confident, smiling hero -- was specifically because of what AFO did to him. because AFO targeted him in the exact way that he is now targeting Deku. because that’s what he does. he goes after every new user of OFA, and he finds out what’s most important to them, and then he destroys it. and for Toshinori, that was Nana. if you’ve read All Might Rising, you know that AFO basically killed her in front of him (and only killed her, while letting Toshinori and Gran get away). Toshinori (while crying) later says she was like a mother to him. and interestingly enough, during this same conversation, Gran tells Toshinori that he can see “that madness in [his] eyes” when Toshi talks about becoming strong enough to defeat AFO. madness in his eyes. sound familiar??

what’s happening to Deku now is the exact same thing that happened to Toshinori when he was a boy. AFO tried every bit as hard to break him as he’s trying with Deku now. “the path you’ve chosen is a thorny one. every battle grinds away at your soul with no end in sight.” we don’t talk about how Toshinori experienced this same thing for forty fucking years. and all the while isolating himself, exactly like Deku is doing now. pushing people away, exactly like Deku. because he never had anyone who was able to reach out and pull him back. and those words that he now finds himself frozen and unable to speak -- “don’t push yourself”; “you can rest” -- are the same words that no one ever said to him until decades later, when it was already far too late to make any difference.

everything that Deku is experiencing now is what Toshinori also went through. and it’s only now, as he watches it happen to his student, the boy he loves like a son, that he’s finally starting to realize the full extent of how wrong it was. you shouldn’t have to fight alone. you shouldn’t have to bear that kind of enormous burden alone. you shouldn’t have to push yourself, and you can rest. you can rest.

but it’s too late. just as he’s finally coming to understand it all, it’s all too fucking late. and he can’t say the words, he doesn’t know how to say the words, and then just like that, Deku is gone.

and he’s alone. again.)

I can’t. this can’t be their goodbye. I’m not ready. for this to be how they finally part, and then they never see each other again except in OFA. how is that fair. how is that fair. how is that fair

fuck me. lol. how many pages are left in this thing. let’s just wrap this up lol. so now of all the times for this fucking guy to finally show up

I can’t believe Stain has been here literally this entire time hiding behind this random wall and cutting onions. that was you who was cutting the onions, right. no need to answer that we’ll just say it was

HORIKOSHI JUST END THE CHAPTER PLEASE I’M OUT OF SPOONS. YOU HURT ME SO GOOD AND I LOVE YOU FOR IT BUT YOU NEED TO LET ME GO NOW SO I CAN BEGIN THE PROCESS OF TRYING TO PUT MY LIFE BACK IN ORDER HERE. SO WHERE ARE WE CUTTING TO NOW WHAT IS HAPPENING

Stain did you also let AFO give you a new quirk. what’s with you guys. do you like blowing up

oh nvm lol because they were talking about THIS GUY ohhhhhh my fucking god

THAT’S BECAUSE HE’S SAD, LINDA!! jesus

omfg. and so yes, good, the chapter is ending here now on page 15. for once I am FULLY on board with that lmao

anyway so tune in next week for more adventures of Werewolf Deku!! that is, assuming we don’t finally cut back to U.A. at long last, which is actually a strong possibility considering that this chapter will likely mark the end of volume 31. it sure wouldn’t kill Horikoshi to start giving us some hope after everything he’s just put us through lol. KACCHAN COME GET YA BOY