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#the characters are so much better thought out and balanced against each other
watchmakermori · 1 year
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i finished the sumeru archon quest and I have SO many thoughts but for now: watching scaramouche claw his way out of the robot trying to get the gnosis back, to the point of breaking his own puppet strings, begging not to return to how he was before because if he isn’t divinity then he has no worth at all....i am so normal about this character. I promise I am totally normal
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fukashiin · 1 year
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how they admire you from afar
— w. ace, deuce, floyd, kalim, jamil
⤷ times when they stare at you and think "wow theyre pretty"
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ACE TRAPPOLA
- you? beautiful? him staring at you because of it?
- audacious. seriously
- he stares at you so much and he hates YOUR guts for it somehow
- like why do you have to look so breathtaking when doing the most ordinary of tasks? do you WANT him to stare at you? (not like you’re aware of how much he does anyway)
- and you miss the salty side eye he gives to the previous person you were talking to
- fail to notice the subtle pouts he sends your way and he ignores you back for the next week
- like literally what is his problem
- but the time he spends trying to “ignore” you doesn’t last for long
- because. you don’t know. how beautiful you are in his eyes.
- scribbles the most illegible notes down in his journal back in his dorm because he just can’t get rid of the sight of your face (no human is supposed to be that pretty. he’s just being ridiculous)
- posts weirdly ominous captions on his magicam stories about how “he’s going to lose it” or “how can someone be THAT blind?” 
- he removed you from his close friends just so you couldn’t view it
- and he’s still wondering why you aren't taking the hint? ace please wake up you're going to harvard
- the next day is his basketball tournament. you were invited
- and the moment he was about to shoot the ball through the basket, he saw you amongst the crowd, cheering for him, yelling his name, encouraging him to score a point for NRC’s team
- he misses the shot with his hand a centimeter away from the basket and the ball bounces off the ring
- the whistle blows and the tension falls off of everyone’s shoulders
- he’s not ashamed in the least. in fact he was still focusing on you. why did you look so confused? head tilted and everything? now is not the time to distract him when he’s in a tournament you know? this is a very important day for him and he absolutely cannot miss this shot.
- he comes back to his senses when both teams that were competing against each other disappeared from the ring. only turns out it was time to take a break and he was informed of his foolish mistake 
- he sees you running up to him, scoffs, and turns away
- why do you have to put him through so much? just when will you notice his dumb advances towards you?
- but all his thoughts dissipate into thin air when you smile at him so sweetly and reassure him that he’ll do better the next round
- he really hates you
- and he’s really down bad for you
DEUCE SPADE
- no. he can’t accept this. he won’t accept this. what happened to his first priority to become NRC’s notable honour student?
- stage 1: denial
- his gaze settles on you entirely, while you’re taking notes in class and you’re unaware of a hungry gaze that burns into the back of your head
- deuce then realises that he’s been balancing on the front two legs of his seat this entire time
- slips and hits his chin directly on the edge of the desk when mr. crewel calls out his name
- pull out the bandages with my melody characters cutely printed onto them, he’s going to need it 
- but when your hands come in contact with his skin
- he absolutely
- FOLDS
- “let me bandage it up for you” you said. “i promise it won’t hurt one bit” you SAID
- stares at you the whole time while you’re focused on cleaning his bruise (caused by you)
- he takes notice of the bandages and feels the childish tears pricking at his eyes (caused by you)
- mutters a weak ‘thank you’ once you’re done and when you push your hair back to get rid of the accumulated sweat on your forehead, he feels an arrow shooting right through his heart
- can he blame you? everything you do is just so seemingly flawless and attractive that he can’t help but wonder if he’s truly worthy of your attention. after all, you are aware of his past 
- spams his mother’s phone once he’s back at the dorm in the evening, telling her that there’s this person who’s so drop-dead gorgeous that he can’t get them out of his mind and he’s begging her, asking her what he should do with such unfamiliar feelings that poke at his heart
- except ms spade was probably dealing with a workload that evening and had her notifications off for the entire day (and probably forgot in the process so she’s worried about his son not texting her for one whole day)
- they’re bothj so silly
- the next couple of days fly by, same as ever, with deuce admiring your features at the other side of the table while you help wipe the crumbs off of grim’s face during lunch
- his entire thought process was just about how dreamy you were, he’s so lovestruck it’s insane
- and great seven does he thank them above for being able to live this day
- because you suddenly remembered that your fridge back at ramshackle dorm was out of stock
- so you offered deuce this golden opportunity to head to sam’s store together to help shop for missing groceries that you desperately needed to fill your fridge again 
- he snaps out of his own thoughts and nods his head. violently. was he trying to mimic those bobble head figures?
- you were content and looked at him with that killer-smile
- instant K.O
- ace watches from the sidelines and gets up to purchase another deluxe steak hamburger that the cafeteria was handing out for a limited time
FLOYD LEECH
- completely ditches his work at mostro lounge just to sit at the booth you’re at to stare at you
- he doesn’t even say anything
- he just stares
- maybe even twirls a lil strand of your hair if you consent to that
- and he’s completely head-over-heels for you. but who knows that other than jade and azul thanks to their gifted intuition? not you, for all they know
- absolute menace
- casually slings an arm around your shoulders, wrap his arms around your waist from behind-he does all of these and starts a countdown out of nowhere for the person that you were conversing with to get away from the two of you
- you: ( ゚д゚) Floyd: (*^ω^*)
- what’s that about personal space??? yeah he has zero idea of what that is while he continues staring at you
- your lips to be specific.
- every part of you just seems so-pretty? whenever you two have mixed classes together all his thoughts go right through the window and you’re the only thing that his eyes see
- leaves the classroom feeling pretty goofy. slacks his arms behind his head and accidentally whacks a student right in the face with his elbow
- hallway chases are nothing new
- you have to run twice as fast as you do in PE
- he justt thinks you’re so cute the nicknames are endless
- “my adorable shrimpy” “my cutesy little sherbet in a cup” “my one and only mike wazowski”
- they’re not even related to sea animals anymore
- revoke his pet name privileges please
KALIM-AL-ASIM
- smitten the moment he makes eye contact with you
- menace number #2 (lovingly)
- what’s wrong? you don’t want a costly chandelier installed in ramshackle’s lounge? Funny! kalim does not bother and your complaints fall on deaf ears
- cups his cheeks in his hands and kicks his legs while he watches you from afar like a little high school girl
- he has a big fat crush on you and he isn’t afraid to show it
- INSISTS jamil that they should bring back every traditional cuisine from their hometown for you to try out
- sends unprofessionally written love letters onto ramshackle’s doorstep when he’s away for the holidays (jamil modified some parts of the letter to not make it too hard to understand)
- think his only love language is giving gifts? absolutely not. doesn’t even know what the five love languages are but masters them all (and it doesn't even take him any strenuous effort)
- rambles to jamil about how beautiful you are during lunch. proceeds to even make an hour-long powerpoint presentation to show to his 30 younger siblings back at home with low-quality images downloaded from shutterstock.
- “how pretty are they?” “are you two going to get married?” “can i see them in person some time? I’ll be nice!”
- no you did NOT give him permission. but you’re okay with that. you love him too much to scold him anyway<333 
- one time you were invited to scarabia’s dorm where they were holding a large banquet (kalim sat beside you and mindlessly kept placing portions of food from the table onto your own plate-it started overflowing you HAD to stop him from grabbing the tongs)
- by the time everything was settled, you went back to your own dorm to get a goodnight’s rest
- but kalim was so adamant on not letting you go that a student from his dorm basically had to rip him off of your figure 
- he loves you and your cute face so much 
- scratch that he loves everything about you from head to toe
- when he was back in his room daydreaming about you, he heard the door burst open
- turns out it was jamil needing to inform him about the upcoming dorm leader meeting happening the next day
- kalim accidentally called him “teddy bear” thinking it was you who decided to come back and give him a farewell kiss
- jamil took his first shot that day
JAMIL VIPER
- jamil viper is not like the other guys
- no he’s different
- he stubbornly pushes all his surfacing feelings down and outwardly ignores the elephant in the room!
- which is his abrupt crush on you
- but seriously-he has no idea what to do
- when you offered to help him make dishes for the next dorm feast scarabia was having
- he couldn’t stop staring at the way your hands handled the kitchen utensils so effortlessly 
- and how you looked so laser focused on chopping the ingredients with beads of sweat starting to form on your forehead
- he’s DEFINITELY not into you at all. there’s nothing outstanding about you. he does not think you’re even pretty in the least. (press X to doubt)
- kalim takes notice frustratingly quick and suddenly he’s not a dorm leader anymore but a persuasive wingman
- kalim: you like them right??? do you want me to confess to them for you???? i promise i wont make you look stupid!
- jamil: PLEASE STO
- but when you start to become aware of the subtle signs and how he’s much more softer when it comes to you, jamil assures you that you had no fault in this at all and he’s stupid for letting such affection get to his head
- “It’s not you, it’s me.”
- (he secretly tells himself that it is kind of you because you’re just too charming to take his eyes off of??? inflexible much)
- but he still continues to stare at you. he doesn’t even know if it’s out of pure habit or if he’s just shameless anymore (news flash: it’s both)
- throw your personality into the mix and he’s very much in love
- and you were kind enough to not pay mind to it. when you do notice and call him out-he’s flushed. he’s flustered. bro ascended.
- and when you do accept his feelings, he’s relieved. he even offers to cook for you every day 24/7. and you’re rather surprised at his ability to balance all his responsibilities on his shoulders without a single slip up.
- sometimes kalim would walk with you guys in the hallway when arriving to your locker to pick up some books for your next lesson. jamil doesnt particularly mind but
- why does it feel like he’s the one who’s third wheeling?
- but in all honesty, he doesn’t mind in the least
- because he knew that you reciprocate his feelings so sincerely-and he’s grateful for it.
- mega W if you start dating jamil you won in life
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egophiliac · 6 months
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I was wanting to try doing an art piece in the style of the signature spell poster art pieces you create. But I’m not really the best at coming up with a composition for such a thing.
Do you have a process for how you come up with the compositions for them?
oh, awesome! it is an INCREDIBLY enjoyable style to work in; I hope you have fun with it! :D
I'm not great at putting my thought/art process into words, so my apologies if this doesn't make a lot of sense, but I'll try! my first step is always to do a LOT of thumbnails to figure out both the idea and how I want to show it; not trying to do a real sketch or anything, just little doodles to figure out what exactly I'm trying to portray. (I also call these "garbage passes" because they're not meant to be any good, they're just there to throw things out. aha. ha. ...anyway.) I think it's important during that first stage to really focus on the idea and the layout and not to get too bogged down in the actual drawing yet!
I tend to save my final thumbnails, so I'll use 'em as examples (I posted the ones up through episode 5 here if you're interested!) (and, uhhh, spoilers through episode 5 also in this post, hopefully that won't be an issue!)
the main thing I try to think about in composition is balance -- not necessarily in terms of symmetry, but in where each element is placed and how much space it's taking up. remember, empty space is still space! it's also really important to think about the parts that don't have anything in them, as much as the parts that do!
personally, I like to divide things up roughly by both halves and by thirds -- there's a lot more in-depth info out there on why the "rule of thirds" in particular works well visually, but in short, our brains tend to focus on things that are placed closer to imaginary division lines, instead of in the exact center of an image. so even when I'm doing something that is very centered and symmetrical, I try to keep that in mind and generally aim around those for landmarks like faces/eyes (or...where they would be, anyway) and other focal points.
it's not a formula of "the character's face should be in this division of this grid" or anything, more like "our minds like to focus on these areas, let's think about how to use that", if that makes sense! and of course rules are made to be broken, art is lawless anarchy, and so on. but it can be a good starting place for deciding where you want to put things!
(blue - thirds, red - half)
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and against the finished versions, because they do usually end up changing a lot (including the empty space of the border):
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(...these actually lined up a lot better than I thought they would. :') it makes me look like I do things way more intentionally than I do.)
other stuff I just try to keep in mind is that our eyes like following arcs and paths, which can be a good way to guide the eye:
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and frame and control the focus:
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honestly, composition is one of those things I feel like I struggle with a lot, so I'm not sure how much of this is helpful or actually makes sense outside of my head. but hopefully it helps a little! it's all just stuff to think about while drawing and not anything hard-and-fast, so don't, like, stress out about making sure things are lining up exactly on the thirds or anything. again, it's more "our brains think these are the dopest parts of the rectangle" than anything else! take advantage of the cool parts of the rectangle!
NOW GO HAVE FUN DRAWING seriously though, it is always super cool that other people like this idea and style enough to want to do it themselves and for other/their own characters! thank you! ❤️❤️❤️
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bakasara · 6 months
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Trying to parse my thoughts on Izzy's death and why I had a different reaction to it than I thought I would. To summarize: I thought I wouldn't like it, but also that they wouldn't do it; the opposite happened– they did it but I'm ok with it.
I'm also feeling like talking through some mourning for an amazing character, so follow along if that's you, too 😌
(I should probably clarify the following thoughts are coming from someone who deeply enjoyed this season.)
I first wondered what would be of Izzy around the end of season 1. I expected him to have a heel-face turn – which I object to calling a redemption arc and I'll get into why, because the distinction ties into his death imo. A lot of antagonistic characters' changes of heart end directly in death, but I thought they'd subvert that trope. And they... did, actually, despite Izzy dying. Not an option I had imagined.
What the show avoided is the logic, the set of tropes attached to the deaths of this kind of character. These deaths usually come as a consequence of the character's changed ethics or "redemption". My being against that scenario came from the diverging natures of traditional redemption arcs and OFMD's rhetoric.
A traditional redemption arc functions by a kind of catholic logic, if you will: the villain can become one of the good guys by balancing out his "sins"/bad deeds with enough good deeds to tip a moral scale. This often involves a purifying suffering, which acts as an agent to expiate one's faults. To the viewer, this suffering can serve to activate our empathy and make the character more sympathetic. It can also legitimize his quest: our trust in the character's good intentions comes from seeing that the character is ready to make sacrifices to become better and he isn't deterred by the hardships of doing the right thing.
The death occurring at the end of a traditional redemption arc acts as the ultimate sacrifice and/or purification. A number of ideas might be at play behind it, depending on each story: only in death can the soul become fully pure, or a final sacrifice is "needed" to demonstrate the change once and for all, or change was only possible up to a point after which there is no viable/acceptable future – the character deserves moral points for changing, but not so many that he also deserves a full life, or past crimes make him more expendable, etc.
But these are all ideas that aren't evoked in any of the crew's journey in OFMD. For starters, the show isn't interested in "catholic" redemption; its focus is on reintegration/rehabilitation into the community. Rather than appealing to the more traditional (in Western media) and more christian principle of "purification of the soul through mortification of the body", it plays with notions of restorative justice.
We see it especially this season with Ed and Izzy. Ed's arc is a whole little lab for it. We have the community being made to decide whether he can stay or should leave; catbell!Ed is made to apologize to the people affected – which he initially does abysmally, with what fandom has dubbed his "CEO's/YouTube apology". Later, he's given the opportunity to have a more honest and genuine conversation with Fang where he learns about how he hurt him. He's made to repair some of the material damage his behavior caused. Some members feel repaid by the idea that they did to him the same he did to them (Fang) while others don't (Lucius), and the show touches on what this means for each/legitimizes both feelings. Arguably, Ed using his treasure to throw Calypso's birthday party – a much needed refrain and moment of social (re-)connection within the community – is an additional form of reparation. While Stede's belief in Ed has a clear role in helping Ed change for the better, Izzy's s2 journey focuses even more intensely on the role of social support within an individual's constructive (re-)integration into their community. The show is condensed by choice of format, but the beats are all there.
With that kind of rhetoric set up, I'd never be able to accept Izzy dying in a way that feels like a punishment for his past crimes, nor in a way that should "confirm" his positive change/"purify" him for good. And he doesn't! By the time he dies, we know full well he's deeply changed, it's already established to completion. How it happens has nothing to do with proving himself – he's randomly shot in battle. It's never questioned that the time he got to live surrounded by affection mattered. The speech he gives Ed is only possible because he's changed, accessing a completely different perspective on piracy/life than before, like we see when he talks to Ricky earlier. The reason the whole crew is paying respect and crying is because he became "the new unicorn", a treasured member with a defined role. But his death itself is the show going back to the initial symbolism of Izzy as ultimate pirate. The narrative function of his death is underscoring that the age of piracy has come to an end. It's nothing to do with his change. It's posited as the "natural conclusion" (again, by symbolic function) of a character that represented piracy through-and-through, not the "natural conclusion" of a process of becoming better.
And for me, that difference changes everything. I can see and accept the logic behind it, even as I mourn Izzy as a character. It makes the grief feel like a catharsis I experience within the context of the story I'm watching, rather than a grief I feel from a show "betraying" me.
It's also a difference that completely changes how Izzy's death relates to his queerness. Izzy's change is intertwined with being able to express queer affection openly. Becoming "a unicorn" is this extremely queer imagery already – a magical rainbow creature. His role becomes akin to a mother to the crew (the mother hen!Izzy many headcanoned last season, tapping into his potential), a position that isn't extraneous to older queens, including our honored real-life mean-old-queer men. Last season he threatened another queer man for showing too much delicacy, effeminacy, vulnerability. Now, his change is a process that culminates in him singing a tender love song among the crew in drag. He's given the privilege of playing the soundtrack to our protagonists making love for the first time, which ties him symbolically to the event in a way it does no other crew member. Suffice it to say that insinuating his process of change should end in death would have been disastrous, as far as I'm concerned. Antithetical to the show's supporting ideology.
But that's not how it went. Grief occupies a big role in the queer community, but it's so rare that we get to experience it cathartically. In real life, we often have to contend with the ways queerphobia causes us trauma or even shortens our lives, or the lives of our friends. In fictional narratives, a lot of characters that get to express queerness unabashedly still die for the transgression. They're still usually the only queer character with relevant screen time or at all, at best one of two that formed a tragic couple.
We almost never have the opportunity to just mourn some motherfucker who died because they meant something else as well that was central to their character. To mourn and know we're mourning someone who wasn't ever punished for being queer-as-in-fuck-you and going all out. To mourn and not feel like it's another message of queer doom, because for once the character is surrounded by an entire crew of other queer characters that go on to live and be happy. To know the story is saying something about life, not about being queer. To know this kind of crafting was deliberate, too, because the creator has talked about working to avoid those tropes. I struggle to remember another time I had the opportunity to grieve for a queer character like they're a human being, without the implication that it's queerness itself that's a death sentence.
And honestly? It feels good. It feels like a form of catharsis I do not dislike. That I'm maybe kinda glad for. OFMD is and stays a magical world. Beyond that, in a show full of queers, one of them dies after getting some extraordinarily meaningful happiness, and it's peaceful, and I get to just be sad for the fucker without the gutting of being reminded that if you're gay, better not shoot too high. It feels like a completely different emotion that no other show, for now, would give me, but OFMD. To me, it's yet another thing it's pulled off.
As it's been known to do.
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Don't Speak 38
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, allusions to abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)
Character: librarian!Andy Barber
Note: new year, same Andrew.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
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You bend over the tub, testing the temperature with your fingertips. That incessant flutter doesn't quit. Your stomach is all topsy turvy. With guilt, with shame, with anxiety.
Every word Andy said echoes in your head. His pain, his anger, and that other thing that always overrides the rest; neediness. He doesn't want, he needs. Everything.
Before you can stand, something caresses your lower back. You squeak and stand so fast it makes you dizzy. As you face Andy, your feet tangle in each other.
He's already down to his boxers. You don't see the rest of his clothes, he must've come like that. You give a sheepish smile and press against the side of the tub.
He grins but winces. He turns to check his reflection, leaning in as he touches his swollen cheek. Another strike of guilt razes your body.
He backs away from the mirror and drops his hands. You look off as he feels along the front of his underwear. You don't know why it still makes you so… nervous.
He pulls the fabric down and you sidle along the tub. You can't get past him. He looms over you and brushes close as he peers into the water.
“No bubbles?” He says.
You flinch and clasp your hands together, “sorry, I–”
“I'm teasing, honey,” he touches your shoulder, rubbing the fabric of your sleeve between his fingers, “you're going to join me, right? You said…”
“Yeah, yeah,” you squeak, “I just… you get in first…”
He lingers but only for a moment. He turns as you avoid looking directly at him. You push away the thoughts that battle against each other. Those fearful ones which note the strength corded in his muscles, and those other, curious and confused. The one's not innately attached to him which often wander to another. Someone you shouldn't think of like that.
You chew your lip as you muster what courage you have left. Much of it was spent simply knocking on his door. You've never been very brave, have you?
You pull your blouse off first. The short exhales that hisses beneath the noise of the faucet tickles your ears. You know he's watching you. That makes your hands shake.
You fold the crisp white blouse over the end of the counter and undo the top button of skirt. You shimmy out and lay it with the top. Then you pull the stockings down your legs, leaning on the counter for more than balance.
You stand in your plain white bra and panties. Andy clucks as the water stirs.
“We should get you some cute bras to go with your panties,” he says, “maybe pink?”
You swallow. You don't know what to say. He's being provocative and you know it.
“I like purple better,” you say as you steel yourself and unhook your bra. You hesitate before you let it fall away.
“Purple is nice too,” he agrees. “Honey…”
He leans back and reaches his arm over the edge of the tub. You turn to him, fingers on the then scalloped elastic of your panties. You're being good. You won't argue. You won't hurt him again.
You roll down your panties and leave them on the tile. You have to keep from sprinting away and make yourself go forward. You approach the tub and he reached for you. You accept his large hand as you step over the wall of the tub.
He purrs and guides you down, his other hand tracing along the curve of your hip and side. You sit between his legs as he makes room for you. He's rigid against your back, twitching as he eases you to recline against his stomach.
He sighs as the tension slowly leaves his muscles. His hands wander along your lower stomach. You try to keep from locking up but your stiff and startled. He cups your chest and wiggles beneath you. Your heartbeat hammers.
“You nervous?” He chuckles into your hair.
You nod and gulp loudly.
“Why, baby? We've done it all before.”
“I… know,” you quiver, “but… it's still new to me.”
He laughs again, his thumbs rolling around your nipples until they're hard.
“That's good. To feel that way. That excitement,” his timbre is silty and deep, “you know I feel the same. I can't get enough because every time feels just as good as the first.”
“Oh, uh, yeah,” you agree weakly. You waych the water rise and squirm, “it's going to overflow.”
You try to sit up but he holds you down for a moment. Keeping you against him, just a second, as if to say, I am letting you get away. You rise up and twist off the faucet as his fingertips dancing up and down your back.
You lay back again and he groans. His swollen dick bobs between you. He curls and arm across your stomach, his other hand dipping beneath the water to knead the side of your ass. He nuzzles your crown as the rumble in his chest gets louder.
“Will you put me in?” He asks.
You don't know what he means. Not at first. Not until he shifts his hips, lifting you slightly so his tip prods along your cheeks. You grasp the edge of the tub as your eyes round.
“Please, I just want to feel you.”
You nod, speechless. You ache at the thought. You don't think your ready for him. Have you ever been?
You push your hand under the water and angle around. You find him and line him up with your cunt. Even submerged, you're dry. You tilt your hips and rub his head along your lips, trying to work up to it.
You feel his impatience as he rocks his hips, prodding again. You hold your breath and angle him against your entrance. It burns just to get his head in you. You pull back and try again, a little further but just as fiery.
Slowly you get him, halfway as he growls and once more fondles your chest. He tilts from below, moving his hips steadily until he chafes past your resistance. You whimper but try to make it sound less agonized.
“Mmm,” he buries himself to his limit, well past your own. Tears bobble on your eyes. “I could stay just like this. How about you, honey?”
You nod and tamp down the pain, “yes… An–honey.”
He doesn't move. He keeps you flush as he continues to feel you up. He reaches down to knead your thighs and your hips, tickles your stomach, gropes your chest, and finally, settles a hand across your throat. He purrs and kisses your hair.
“You make me feel so… big,” he growls.
And he makes you feel insignificant. You let out a moan and nod above his knuckle. He squeezes just enough for you to gasp.
“I'm not going to hurt you…” he says, the last of his words dangle unsaid; not like you did me.
You stay still as his thumb presses under your jaw. You can breathe, just barely. He presses his nose into your hair and groans and he pulls himself out of you, just to his tip, then eases back in. You puff out a breath as your hand falls to grip his hips beneath you.
“Shhh, baby, you relax,” he coos as he thrusts again, long and slow, as if he knows it's torture, as if he's drawing his vengeance. “Fuck, you're so tight around me…”
He continues at the pace. Deliberate and devious. You feel your walls stretch with each plunge into you, your back wracks with tension.
You try to breathe through the torment. You can't as he picks up his tempo, pulling out slow only to snap back into you. His pelvis makes you sore with each dip inside.
The water swirls and splashes as his breath hitches. Your own is trapped as his hand becomes a vice around your neck. You wheeze as he bucks into you from below, jolting your entire body with each thrust. He growls and snarls and sneers as he uses you to his delight. To your horror.
You close your eyes and give in. You go limp as you let him have you. As you try to make yourself feel as good as he does. Why can't it feel nice for you?
You clamp around him as a vision flickers across your eyelids. One that makes you squeak. That has you clutching at Andy's thick wrist, trying to swallow down air.
No, no, you shouldn't, but it feels better with those thoughts. You don't feel so worn out. You feel almost giddy to think of him instead.
You squeeze Andy's arm and a moan escapes his grip. Steve, oh Steve. You see his blue eyes watching you. Feel his hands petting you. Gentle, not rough.
The bathroom disappears and is replaced with a new scene. The leather couch in Dr. Kemp's office. He's there with you, on top of you, holding you. And you like it.
The pressure builds in your core as he writhes with you. As you intertwine in pleasure, working as one, not against each other. You're chest is ready to burst as he pecks along your forehead and cheek, coaxing you as his warm cologne tinges your senses.
“Good girl,” he slithers into your ear.
Something in you snaps. Just like with the toy but better. More intense.
Your eyes open wide and you gasp out as you're swept up in the rolling tide. Your hand drops from Andy’s wrist as you let him choke the words you dare not say. Steve, Steve, Steve…
Your orgasm piques quickly and just as suddenly fizzles out. A glimmer against the gray reality. Your head swells as the pain seeps back in.
You're bad. You're very bad. If Andy knew… he can't. You promised not to hurt him again. So you won't let him ever find out.
🕊
You work at layering the flat noodles, sauce, and cheese. Lasagne has always been a favourite, Amber's especially. But you can try your best.
The fragrance of tomato and basil waft in the air. You focus on the task. It's easy to appreciate the simple things when there is so much around that's complicated.
As you lay down the last layer of cheese, you check the temperature on the stove. It's not done preheating. You'll have time to wash up a bit.
You rinse the silicon spatula, a pot, a pan, and a bowl. You dry your hands as the stove beeps and reach for the heavy pan of pasta. As you move to put it in the stove, your thighs squeeze together and remind you of the less simple tasks.
You shut the oven door and cling onto the handle and bask in the warmth. You close your eyes. You haven't slept much in the last few days. Each time you try, he wakes you again.
That day could’ve been a renewal. With Andy working again, you have hours to yourself, but when you did try to doze, you were kept awake with dread. You feel yourself cracking again but you won't let it show. Not this time.
You look over at the knife block. Your eyes stick there. You try not to think of blades or their edges on your skin. You shudder and shake your head.
The front door pulls you back. You turn as you hear Andy in the entryway. You rush out to meet him. He puts his bag down and lets you help him out of his coat. As you hang it, his hand wanders under your skirt and he pinches your ass.
“Something smells good,” he sniffs emphatically.
“Lasagne,” you draw away and smile at him.
“Mmm,” he hums as he looks at you, “dove…” he has a devilish twinkle in his eye, “you know… tomorrow is Friday.”
“Yes,” you confirm tenuously.
“So, well… would you want to do something special?”
“Special?” You echo him, your stomach starting up again.
“If I asked you a favour… it's been a long week, you know, so I was… hoping you might take some of the load off,” he explains, “but it's something fun.”
“Okay?”
“Tomorrow, when I get home, will you… will you wait for me naked?” His cheeks tint red just sligthly as he smirks guiltily.
You blink as your brows pop up. You didn't expect that. You couldn't even think of something like that.
“I… I guess,” you press your sweaty palms to your skirt, “I could…”
“And when I come in, you can undress me too,” he steps close, his hands on your hips, “one piece at a time…”
“Sure,” you eke out.
“And you'll kiss me?”
You nod.
“And take care of me?”
Another nod.
“You're so good to me, dove,” he purrs as he cradles your chin, forcing your head up, “I have another surprise for you.”
He lets the statement hover as he kisses you. He sways you as he wraps you up in one arm. His tongue invades your mouth, nearly gagging you, but you're getting better. You don't even murmur as the gross sliminess.
He finally parts and you catch your breath. He bites his lip as he looks you up and down again. He smiles and inhales deeply, his chest rising and falling in content. He tugs on his belt, wiggling his hips as you ignore the bulge in his pants.
He turns and reaches for his bag. He slips his hand into the top and slides a shape out. It's your tablet. He holds it just out of your grasp as he faces you.
“You've been doing so good. I'm… sorry I took it,” he offers it to you. “I was upset and afraid. I know now how much you love me, dove.”
You put your hand on the other side but he doesn't let go. He keeps you deadlocked as he grips the case tight.
“But you should only talk to Dr. Kemp in session. I think that's best,” he girds.
"I understand,” you try not to rip the tablet away. You can't help but be desperate for it. You haven't drawn in so long.
“Good,” he lets go and you hug the tablet to your chest.
You smile and look down at the top of the case. It's a small victory. Just like the fading bruises on his face.
“Honey,” your heart leaps as you start before you can stop yourself. No, it's too much but you have to ask. While he's happy. “Can… can my sister come over? Next week?”
“Amber,” his smile falls in an instant, “I don't know… feels too soon.”
“Okay,” you accept. You know better than to argue, “but eventually?”
His brows lower and his cheek dimples, “how about we chat with Dr. Kemp about it?”
You could jump! It's not a yes but isn't a no either.
“Yes, honey, we can do that,” you recite.
“We…” he smiles, “we can.”
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divine-donna · 7 days
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lovin' me
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part 01
a continuation of my previous set of headcanons. i wanted to write something more romantic. less pining. maybe a bit more...steamy. i got inspired after showing my friend the movie.
yes i am continuing the fifty fifty vincent renzi interpretation. he's sooooo fifty fifty coded. he's just like me fr
character: vincent renzi
for vibes: "lovin' me" by fifty fifty
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"you have not changed. not a bit."
"stop." you can't help but laugh. you know it's...predictable of you. to get the same order you got every time you guys came to this cafe. but familiarity called to you.
habits were hard to break.
vincent leans back, placing a cigarette between his lips. he pulls his lighter out and tries to light it. it fails after a minute of trying. he must be out of fuel.
"you got a lighter?"
"always." you pull it out and place it in his hand.
his hand is soft and slightly cool. your fingers linger, trying to warm his hand with your own. he pulls away too quickly. you wanted your fingers to linger against each other just a bit longer.
he looks at the lighter. it was decorated. he recognizes the little line of pearls, going up and down with roses at the points the arches meet. he did it himself. and then he had given you the lighter as a gift. you laughed, brushing off the blush dusting his cheeks. you thought it was the wine.
the lighter you decorated at the time was a little more crude. less pattern like. it was chaotic, with a variety of charms that you thought represented him. he remembers how you cursed when the cross charm moved. it was crooked and you were too frustrated to try to fix it.
all while your friends' laughter filled the room and more wine was being poured into your glasses.
"you still kept this?" vincent lights his cigarette with the lighter. he takes a drag and blows the smoke away from you. it comes out as a steady stream.
his jawline. the way his hair framed his face. his turtleneck. his laxed posture. he was charming, your vincent.
charming and attractive.
"why wouldn't i?" you take your lighter back to light your own cigarette.
"i just...i would have expected all the pearls and roses to have fallen off by now."
"you were...generous with the modge podge."
he laughs. "i was, yes."
"what about you? just decided to throw the one i made for you away or...?"
vincent shakes his head. "no. i've...in truth, i've never used it. it's locked up in my desk drawer."
part of you felt a little offended. you place a hand over your heart, feigning offense. "vincent! how could you!"
"it's not like that! i swear! you put so much stuff on it that it...is kind of unusable!"
"it is not!"
"well...it isn't. i've used it. once." he puts up his index finger. "one of the moon charms came off. and i didn't want to spoil the art piece you had made for me. so it sits in my drawer. because i don't want it to be destroyed."
you watch him take another drag and blow away from you. your heart beats faster and you feel your cheeks warm.
he was sure he had the right address.
was this too much?
bringing flowers to you? properly prepared, put in a vase already. a balance between the vibrant colors of the flowers and the greens.
you seem to sense that he's there, because he raises his hand to knock and the door opens.
you're holding a wine glass and dressed casually in some loungewear.
"you're early! and with flowers!"
he looks down at them. "think of them as...a homecoming gift?"
you smile widely. "just come in!"
you had made dinner. a simple steak and frites. nothing special. vincent reminisces about how often you made this for him while you guys were in university. while on a budget, of course.
the meal is delicious. and then you introduce the big thing you invited him over for: baking and cake decorating.
"we always joked that we could do better than the people on cooking shows."
"can we?" he rolls his sleeves up. "do we even know how to...start?" he had a vague idea. baking wasn't exactly his specialty. he preferred to cook.
the last time he baked was in university. and you were there to help him clean his oven, which took over three hours to do.
"if we follow a recipe, we should be fine."
except it wasn't that simple.
there was flour and cocoa powder everywhere. you were pretty sure you had gotten some in vincent's hair, making it look whiter than it was.
he looks so cute though with flour on his nose.
the wine kept coming as you guys pushed the cake pans into the oven. in your drunken stupor, you both forget a timer. he's paying more attention to you, following you into the living room. he sets his wine glass down, half full with red.
you pull a record out of its sleeve and set it down on the player. it rotates as you drop the needle and music begins to play.
he raises his eyebrows. "you still listen to this song?"
"hey. it's great. and totally american." you giggle, taking another sip of your red.
you move towards him. drunken but effortless. there was a purpose in your movements as you walk towards him. you put your hand out.
vincent smiles and takes your invitation. he puts his hand in yours, feeling its warmth. your warmth. you pull him over and dance.
i think we're alone now. there doesn't seem to be anyone around. i think we're alone now. the beating of our hearts is the only sound.
somehow, you don't spill your wine. you finish it and set the glass down. you spin in his arms. they wrap around you, like a warm blanket.
he smells good too. coffee, pear, and white florals.
his sweater is soft. his touch is gentle. he looks at you with those big, puppy dog eyes of his.
and then you fall.
you bring him down with you.
the plush carpet holds your head. you look up at him. he looks into your eyes and you see your face reflected in his pupils. your cheeks are flushed red.
there's something unspoken between you two and you pick your head up, trying to meet him.
vincent meets you halfway, his lips soft. he tastes sweet, like honey.
his hands cup your face as you move in sync. he's in tune with your rhythm, letting you take the lead and guide him on what to do.
your fingers play with the ends of his hair, wrapping it around one of them. you press your hand against the middle of his back, pulling his body closer.
a small moan escapes you when he moves his hips. he grinds softly, your crotches rubbing against each other through your clothes.
you kiss him harder, deeper, sliding your tongue past his lips to caress his own. vincent moans into your mouth, one of his hands resting on the carpet and digging his fingers into it. he could feel himself beginning to slip and lose control.
and then, the smell of something burning reaches your nose.
you pull away, face flushed. his face was completely red. and not from the wine either.
"fuck the cake!"
vincent's brief feeling of happiness dissipates as he smells the cake burning. his lips curl upwards into a smirk. "leave it." he goes back in, pressing a small kiss against your lips. "we'll try again."
you kiss him back, giving into the bliss. "i think we fucked up the measurements anyways."
he laughs.
it feels like home.
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lurkingshan · 6 months
Note
Just saw your tags on turtle’s post and would love to hear more of your thoughts on Cheum
Oh, boy. Okay, I guess we’re doing this. So, when I think about Cheum I am usually making this face.
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And embodying Oprah what is the truth.gif, because I think she is incredibly underwritten to the point of incomprehensibility. I think the term I used with @so-much-yet-to-learn to describe the writing for Cheum was "a void of characterization.”
By which I mean, I don't understand anything about her. I don't know what she wants or what she cares about. I don't know anything about her relationship with April. I don't know why she is friends with these guys or which she has real bonds with, if any. I don't know why she does things or whether I am supposed to see her as a neutral observer, a voice of reason, or another chaotic shit stirrer. I've seen some confusing messages from the creators about her that don't track with what I'm seeing on screen, so I find it hard to parse their intent versus the impact of what she is actually doing in the story.
But what I can tell you is that based on what I've seen, I don't like or respect her, and I certainly don't see her as in any way better or above the other characters in this story. Let me sum up what we've seen of Cheum over the course of the story:
She is mean to her friends, making lots of catty, passive aggressive remarks that dig at their sore points and taking sides against each of them on a whim
She pushes Mew to date Top and then to forgive him for cheating, to the point of ignoring Mew's stated wishes to conspire to help Top get back into his space
She somehow makes Ray nearly getting arrested all about her and in general gets overly involved in the boys' drama before turning around and berating them for causing her stress
She is judgmental and shaming about gay sex, making Boston out to be a predator for having a lot of sex and leveling a homophobic attack against him by claiming he took advantage of her "straight" brother
She lacks grace and humility and doesn't admit it or apologize when she is wrong, sticking to her bias against all evidence
And we have seen precious little in terms of positive attributes to balance this. We haven't seen her show up for any of the boys as a true or loyal friend. She seems reasonably good at school and conscientious about the hostel project, but we don’t get much there either. She's not even fun! Her function in the story is to be an antagonist to each of the boys in turn, even as the narrative seems to sometimes be suggesting that she is outside the drama.
It all reads very confused to me, and I can't say with any certainty how much of it is intentional and how much is just failures of writing and editing. She's not getting enough screen time for a confident read on who she is, and what she does get feels half-baked. At this point, I think it's safe to say Cheum is just a poorly executed character who has little purpose besides being the token lesbian in the friend group.
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bowieandqueen11 · 2 months
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The Strawhats Celebrating Your Birthday Would Include…
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Request: hello 🤍
my birthday is Sunday the 18 and if you’re taking requests still was wondering if you would write about how the Strawhats would celebrate your birthday!!
My lovely happy happy happy birthday!! I hope you had a really lovely day, and I'm sending you all good wishes and my biggest hug! :)
I'm getting back into the swing of writing after surgery, so please bear with me!
This is 5k, so quite a long one!
Warning: a little strong language, descriptions of light making out and mentions of being drunk/drinking alcohol!
(I do not own One Piece or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credits go to @icythot-bakubitch, @calim3ro, @zorobae, @adhdthomasthorne, @goodsirs and @icythot-bakubitch.)
☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°
Luffy
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I mean, I love Luffy so much but it's hard enough to lug this man off you when it's not your birthday, but when it is?? You better be prepared to grow a fifth limb with the name Monkey D. Luffy.
You're trying to unwind with Nami on the sun loungers after your look out shift? Luffy appears on your lap like the crack of a reddening storm, raging clouds held in his eyes as he grasped his hands around your neck and bent you down. Without a second thought for Nami's grossed out grimace, Luffy's nuzzling his nose against your own in a fervent sweetness, his whole body aching and twisting against your knees as he sweeps little puppy licks up and down your face.
You need to talk to Sanji about what ingredients he'd like you to pick up on the next island the Going Merry is docking at? Because you legit tried to run away from Luffy's clinginess for a while, you and Sanji give each other nervous side glances as his cup of tea starts rippling on the counter. All that floods your ears is the sound of pounding sandals growing like thunder claps across the boards, before you're flung sideways with the intensity of Luffy's leaping jump onto you. What he didn't expect, however, was for Sanji to be baking a cake for you. Cue the bowl full of batter he was stirring disappearing in a splotch up in the air, only for it to land with a resounding splatter across the top of Sanji's blonde hair.
You try and take a moment to train with Zoro? Before the swordsman can even hand you one of his weights, a look of pure terror widens your eyes as two snake-like appendages come slithering around your waist. As the fingers spread comfortably across your bellybutton, latching together so you're caught in a powerful vice, you're flung backwards and into Luffy's grinning face.
Be prepared for at least a full hour of Luffy keeping you in his lap. His words become more and more jumbled as his lips drag across your neck, small swipes of his tongue over your skin making your breath hitch. From time to time you manage to make out breathless fragments of 'so sweet for me' as Luffy's fingernails dig almost painfully into the meat of your hips, followed by a devastating whine as he bucks his hips up against the curve of your bottom. Of a panted 'you're the best thing I've ever tasted' before Luffy bit down carefully onto your shoulder blade, teeth latching into your skin.
I mean, of course Luffy asked poor Sanji to prepare a huge feast in your honour! Before any of the rest of the crew can join, though, Luffy's has haphazardly balanced the plates along his arms, dragging you across the boat to join him for a make-shift picnic on the figurehead. He tries his best not to stuff all of the delicious meats, pastries and fruits into his face, he really really does. The two of you manage to find a compromise: Luffy will sit cross legged in front of you, feeding you the pastry he wants to scoff down himself in a birthday act of self restraint. Although his fingers nearly claw into your mouth with how excited he is, the best part of your compromise is how he's allowed to taste the crumbs my kissing them off your lips!
But bless his heart, he's so giddy to celebrate your birthday that his rubber body is vibrating so hard his head is almost slamming against the floor. You have to make him slow down, because he wants to run around everywhere on some grand adventure with you. The crew eventually give up trying to follow and head back to the ship, because Luffy is dragging you off to cuddle among the fields pocketed with fire-snapped wildflowers: crawling the two of you into the dark recesses of coves on a hunt for hidden treasure, and nearly getting the two of you stuck up the boughs of a prickly tree because he was trying to pick some exotic fruit as a present for you. The whole time, the tight grip he has on your hand is only loosened right before he gives your fingers an excited squeeze, (or when he realises he's running so fast his feet are nearly wheeling off the ground, his elongated arm and your poor panting body so far in the distance you look like little dots against the rolling hills.)
Before the two of you board back onto the Going Merry again, Luffy grabs both of your hands and stops you on the dock. There was an unfamiliar intensity in his eyes: something so aglow in his grin, in the study of his lambent eyes as they darted over your own that almost made you feel... embarrassed. Nervous.
Before you can make eye contact with your Captain again, the scratchy brush of something being placed on your head distracts you. With a lopsided smile, Luffy's hand pats the straw hat firmly down so it crests just above your eyes, before his fingers run down the string.
'Look! It fits you perfectly!'
He nips his thumb and pointer finger against your chin, leaning his lanky body down towards the warmth radiating off your body. You flush, believing your boyfriend is about to kiss you again, but this dopy ass lovestruck idiot is so overwhelmed and so so sleepy, that with a content sigh he falls on top of you. Before you can register your ass hitting the salt-stained wood of the docks, Luffy's cheek is pressed up against the side of your own, his mouth fluttering over yours as he snores soundly; as you try to shove him off, his arms wind at least ten times around your waist and effectively pins you to him like glue.
Big thanks to Zoro for being the only one on the crew brave enough to venture out and see why your flickering shadows were rolling about the pier: why there was so much mewling echoing out over the railings of the boat from down below. With a tired sigh, he just threw your boyfriend over his shoulder and tucked him into his hammock for the night.
Zoro
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Roronoa Zoro, ahh the man who full on owns my ass. Let's be real though, since this man is so forgetful he would be such a teasing asshole on your birthday.
First off, this man definitely sleeps in. He's too busy hugging on to you: his calves are heavy as he slides them in between your own, a snort huffing out of his nostrils as he buries his face into the back of your neck like his salvation lay deep within the warmth of your skin. The tight security of his strong arm finally unwraps from around your waist when he gets up to train without another word: without any acknowledgement, any hint that the man knew how special today was.
But god, of course he knew - he knew everything about you: every detail, every idiosyncrasy, every quirk and giveaway and bad habit. And if he didn't love them all - if his constant observation, constant silent adoration of you didn't prick his sorry heart with a thousand deep lashes of longing.
Cue your confused frown as you finally got up to go look for your boyfriend training on the deck, only for him to be nowhere in sight. Wandering around the Going Merry, the annoyed grunt of your boyfriend's increasingly amplifying voice finally reaches your ears as you pass the kitchens.
Turns out, as Zoro asks for you to accompany him on look out duty in the Crow's Nest that night, that he had spent most of his day obnoxiously doing his best to threaten work with Sanji to create you the perfect birthday cake. The look of surprise that dawns like crested sunlight across your face as you notice the mountain of blankets spread out into a real makeshift nest, as well as the plates of desserts and charmingly wonky lantern lights strung along the wooden circle makes having worked with the waiter... slightly more bearable.
Before you can say anything, Zoro's pulled a bunch of dirt-strewn tiger lilies from behind his back with a bashful scratch of his rubescent neck. As you sniff their fiery sweetness, Zoro stumbles to explain how he’d actually asked for Luffy’s help to pick them; the problem is, the two of them are absolutely hopeless. They’d spent a full three hours trudging through the same field, only for Zoro to seethe once he realised they’d passed the same hollowed out tree trunk for the third time in fifteen minutes.
With the two of them hopelessly lost, it was by sheer dumb luck that Luffy finally managed to spot the flowers sprouting at the bubbling edge of a cragged little brook dotted between the tree line. The only thing was, as he leaped for enthusiastically to pull out the roots, his sandal got stuck between small pebbles and a heap of sticky mud residue lying underneath the water, and with all the tugging Zoro had to do to try and get them out the poor swordsman ended up soaked from head to toe.
At least he was better off than Luffy: the Captain had gone flying backwards over Zoro’s head with an increasingly frustrated tug against his hips, and ended up with his legs dangling comically out of a nearby tree he has been flung so far.
It was all worth it though, if solely for the wick of desperation that’s lit in the quivering pit of Zoro’s stomach as you lean on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek. For the warm glow of lingering affection that alights behind his hazel eyes as he offers you his hand, and the two of you fall into an entangled heap on the blankets.
Now that there’s no one around to annoy him with their antics and quipped comments, the former bounty hunter can finally release the wild beast of desire that’s been clawing against his stomach all day. Your birthday is the only day the usually stoic and reserved swordsman will allow you to hear him mewl against the shell of his ear as you scrape your fingernails down the tight, shaking muscles of his back. The tightness of your thighs as they quake around his waist: the hot pant of his breath as he tries to restrain himself from tearing you apart right there and then, the surprisingly sweet flutter of his kisses as he pins you underneath the contracting muscles of your abdomen are the best present you could ever wish for.
For a second, he pulls back, using his elbows to stop himself from collapsing completely on top of you. He swallows thickly, obviously embarrassed by the way his eyes suddenly are intrigued in scanning the holes and perforations drilled into the Crow’s Nest by the sea’s brackish breeze. It’s only when he starts muttering incoherently to himself, sliding his stumbling hand into his trouser pocket that you finally manage to catch bits of what he’s trying to convey.
He unfurls your hand from where it’s clawed into the mossy strands of hair above the nape of his neck, thrusting something into your palm.
Bless his heart, it’s a little gold sword earring, dangly and almost perfectly melded to reflect his own three.
’I thought you might like something… if there’s ever a day I’m not there to protect you’, he hides himself in the curve of your neck, pretending rolls of steam aren’t burning your hand as you cup the back of his head.
’I always knew you were a big softie deep down’, you tease, pressing a lingering kiss against the side of his forehead.
The love is there. The love is there. Even if it gets stuck in his throat, in his pride, it's there. In the way he lifts his head to bore his eyes into yours. In the slight curl of his lip: the almost imperceptible brush of his nose tip against yours.
’If you tell curly brows, I’ll toss you off the boat myself.’
Sanji
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Since you and Sanji have known each forever: since you were two terrified children, trying to run away from the cruel wrath of his father in the Germa Kingdom, his main goal on your birthday is to make you feel as safe, as protected, as adored as you’ve made him feel his whole life. Even though you’re spending the next character of your adventurous life together as Strawhat Pirates on the Going Merry, he wants to bring a little bit of your former home - of the Baratie - back to you.
As soon as the sun hits the chef’s tired eyes, he’s nearly tripping over his own shoes as he runs across the boat and comes crashing into your quarters of the boat. On any other day he may have been embarrassed to come in unannounced or uninvited, but as Sanji jumps onto your duvet like a puppy with a firecracker under its tail, he can’t find it in himself to worry about anything else except kissing you absolutely, head over heels silly. For a moment as your tired eyes blink languidly awake, you're wondering why you're finding it a little harder to breath than usual. First, you register the feel of something heavy and smooth clench against your torso; Sanji's muscled thighs tremble in anticipation as he straddles you. Secondly, you wonder why you can't move your face side-to-side; Sanji's trying to collect his butterfly swarm of a heart by collecting his warm, calloused fingers by the side of your cheeks, spreading them delicately against the skin. Finally, you manage to make out the almost luminescent, closed eye and open-mouthed grin of your boyfriend as he leant forward and encased your body.
Once you finally manage to physically shove Sanji's needy lips off your face, he starts the day by settling into the easy, familiar routine the two of you fell into once you started at the Baratie. He sneaks you away; steals you, almost greedily, insatiably for himself from the rest of the world.
Because to Sanji, you are his entire world. He had spent so long living behind the colossal shadow of his father: curled up, deferential, strangled. It had been so stifling there, so dank and saturating that he had almost become friends with the loneliness. But you - you, god, by all the seas he swore he would never meet another person as ephemeral as you. You had brought the sunlight back into his eyes, making his whole body awaken and burn with such a want anytime you were near that, despite his overly gallant nature, it almost scared him.
He's prepared a platter of your favourite breakfast foods by the back of the deck: trays full of delicious smelling dishes, strewn gold, sea-shell, freckled honey rose petals flittering among the silverware.
He spends the whole morning trying to feed you each bite, dipping his spoon into the fresh cream sponge he had spent all night baking, and humming as he the edge of the metal against your bottom lip. Finding it far too fun not to tease him, you make sure to grab onto his tensing hand and hold the spoon in place as he tries to pull away. With direct eye contact, you drag the flat edge of your tongue up the back of the spoon, making sure to wet his thumb with the inside of your warm mouth along the way.
His crossed legs squirmed against your own, swallowing thickly as he did his best to straighten his spine and look presentable: not like someone who was finding it harder and harder to hide just how easily you had managed to make him become undone.
It doesn't work though, and you have to drop the plate resting on your knee to the floor with a crunching crack as Sanji begins to pass out on top of you. With a frantic slap across his forehead, you just about manage to stop your boyfriend from toppling face first into the depths of the ocean.
Once he finally comes back round, his head resting securely on your lap, he utters out a thousand apologies as he pulls out your real present. He unfolds a hand-written letter that, honestly, is almost comical; there are so many bullet points laid out on the parchment detailing in exquisite, minute, sometimes quite raunchy detail all the adoration and reverence pouring out of his heart and soul for you, that it almost rolls fully to the bow of the ship.
He makes Captain stop at a nearby island, so the two of you can spend the afternoon at peace together: running barefoot, chasing each other through the champagne waves as a lavender hued sunset bows above your heads, napping on each other's shoulders under the leaves of a coconut tree, and making out on the sand until it swipes over your heads and soaks the two of you. The two of you sneak towards the borders of the nearby village when you begin to hear a swirling brush of stringed music sway out across the little island. Holding out his hand with a bashful smile, Sanji pulls you against his chest until there's almost no space left to breathe, that mad fool so deliriously in love. Under the silky velvet of the waning moonlight, the two of you can barely make each other’s eyes, falling into a fit of euphoric, infantile giggles that almost give you away. The kind glow of the varnished barn lanterns that hang over the ring-wood of dusty buildings brushes over you and Sanji's blushing cheeks as the prince presses the jut of his chin into your forehead. With a content smile, he closes his eyes and pulls your shared hand over till it’s resting against his heart, continuing to sway the two of you back and forth.
The two of you spend the rest of the early morning snuggled up in the kitchen, (even if Sanji has to bar the door with a broom, and throw apples at the handle from time to time to stop Luffy's smooshed face from shoving through the crack and asking if you guys had any snacks left over your birthday breakfast.)
Just you sitting tranquilly on the perch of Sanji's knee, a shared blanket wrapped lazily around both your shoulders. One of his arms is wrapped around your side, stroking and tickling your bellybutton just so he can feel the vibrations of your back as you laugh against him. The other is cupped around some warm tea, refusing to let you exert yourself at all on your birthday; between languid kisses that neither of you want to pull apart from, Sanji dissipates the line of saliva arched between your lips by giving you sips of jasmine tea.
The two of you just cuddle and talk about everything and nothing as soulmates do... well, until Zoro gets fed up of having to wait for his sake and straight up kicks the door off its hinges.
Nami
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You can absolutely tell that Nami is up to something. You just know it.
Although she's trying to act as elusive and nonchalant as ever, that sneaky little smirk she throws at you over the breakfast table is definitely what I'd call a massive giveaway. Without breaking eye contact, your girlfriend will pretend to be intently concentrating on peeling her orange, all the while she's busy making you choke on your food by running her foot up your leg and resting it teasingly on your lap. She presses her toes against the inner seam of your thigh as he finally places a slice in her mouth with an ostentatious pop of her thumb as she pulls it away from her lips, Sanji nearly comes running to give you the heimlich.
All Nami does is wink at you as she chews.
Even though the cat burglar abhors the idea of being anything less than stingy with her money after the trauma she's suffered since Cocoyashi's ambush by Arlong, you're the only person she's ever willing to loosen the purse strings for. She surprises you with an expensive gift: a looping necklace dotted with fine jewels and glittering beads that seemed to both melt and burn ablaze against the horizon with each glint of the light.
You wanted to cry. Not only had Nami spent her valuable berry on a gift for you, she had also remembered, taking note in the back of her mind that you had complimented the piece of jewellery during one of your dalliances out to the markets of Turtledove Isle a couple of months ago. Swiping off the idea of ever owning it as being a fanciful dream once you looked at the price tag, Nami had observed your wistful frown and had purchased it there and then, before you had even fully turned your back.
Bless her heart, she had even managed to find a little tangerine charm and had woven it through the flaxen silver.
When Nami asks to place it around your neck, it takes almost all of your self restraint not to leap up like a firework and pounce on your girlfriend there and then. Her shoes slide around your back, holding you in place as she straddles herself behind your back. Her knees knock familiarly against your arms as she places her chin against your shoulder blade and fixes the necklace so it settles between your breasts, her delicate fingers making your heart race with each tender scratch. With a firm finger pressed under your chin, she tilts you back to meet her lips with an earnest gaze.
God, do you have the cat burglar wrapped around your pinkie finger.
With just one soft groan brushing against her open mouth, she's pinning you to the floor and holding your wrists captive above your head. She lunges, famished and desperate clawing for an ounce of control despite the whirlwind you've released in her heart. Shoving your legs apart, she's quick to fill the space by crawling her hands up the inside of your legs until her stomach hits your groin. She grins deviously, but you don’t have any time to question it before her plump lips are open against the skin of your neck - soft and warm enough to make you whimper, but sucking enough to leave you breathless. She continues pressing those licking, trailing kisses up the tendons of your neck until she’s sure she’s unwound you into a flustered, whining mess.
The sweet cries leaving your parted lips can be heard in each corner of the crevice of the ship. So much so, that Sanji has to desperately hold onto Luffy's arms and drag him back into the kitchen, because the sweetly naive Captain was worried that someone was injured up on deck.
Before her big surprise, though, she thinks the two of you deserve some well deserved rest and a day off for being the only two non-idiots (affectionate) on the Strawhats crew. Cue the two of you sipping lemonade and lying sunbathing underneath her tangerine tree, holding hands and having an impromptu thumb fight.
Despite her competitiveness, your girlfriend's feeling pretty generous because its your birthday and lets you win. And of course the winner deserves a prize...
Thank goodness Sanji managed to block the kitchen door with his body to stop Luffy from pulling the hinges straight off with his fingers, that's all I'm saying.
Because she'd like a little privacy to properly celebrate your special day, she treats you to a candle lit dinner she had disembarked from the ship earlier to set up on Yukino Island. With the help of some elderly villagers more than happy to watch (and gush over) young love blooming, Nami managed to cover your eyes and lead you to the edge of the wild thickets. With nothing but the peachy wisp of the fireflies dancing and glowing between your intertwined fingers, and the lavender breaking through the boughs of the verdant trees to disturb you, everything seemed so perfect. Just you, the love of your life, and a bottle of blood orange cider shared between you to end the perfect night.
The two of you cuddle up under the stars after, before finally relenting and heading back to the ship. Thus you found yourself tied to Nami's hip, one of her arms resting around your neck and tucking you into the side of her ribs. You lay back against the warm plushness of the moonlit sand, unable to help yourself from grinning as Nami lifted your hand and swept it up in a swift and precise line, carving out your share of the stars.
'You see those ones? That's called Lynx. It was always my favourite when I was a kid. So faint, so far away, and yet so beautiful when someone's finally lucky enough to catch its glow. That's how I used to feel, when I first met you.'
She glances almost painfully shyly to the side of your cheek, before finally swallowing her courage again and meeting your eye. The two of you can't help the flustered giggles that burst out of your throats as Nami begins to smile, digging her face into the socket of your shoulder and just... breathes easily, for the first time since she was a child.
She was so thankful for you, and gosh - if she wasn't ready to spend every birthday, and every day between and after proving it.
Usopp
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My main man Usopp is straight up throwing you a massive party, are you kidding me??
He's such a sweet boy, oml. He wakes you up by his bright little smile peering into your face like a curious robin, quite honestly nearly making you jump a mile in the dim light of your cabin. Once you come round and realise some stranger hasn't just materialised to ogle you from the side of your bed, your heart soars when you comprehend that the sun hasn't even risen yet and Usopp is already fully dressed and right by your side. Your boyfriend can barely keep still: his knees almost sounding like a foghorn with how quickly they were bouncing on the floor, trying his best not to jump up but stay kneeling by your side. With a pile of maple smelling pancakes steaming by your legs, and a little clasped box you'd soon find filled with a smoothed stone 'pearl' inside, Usopp was the perfect picture of restrained, nervous longing.
He also presents you with a hand-made card, a slightly wonky outline of the two of you holding hands, surrounded by winged hearts and flying arrows on the front. As he carefully places it into your hands, he tries his best to tell you how much he loves you, but bless his heart, he's so shy and stuttering that all that comes out of his blubbering mouth is a long string of confused 'uh' sounds.
When you lean forward and shyly kiss the side of his mouth, trying to let him know that you reciprocate all the adoration he's trying to form into an actual sentence, his eyes roll so far back in his head that you grab onto his biceps to stop him from falling onto his face on the floor.
While the two of you are quickly trying to run through your chores today for the very *ahem ahem* surprise party Usopp definitely didn't blurt out to you was happening as soon as he had the chance, the sharpshooter takes every opportunity to try and distract you. He can't help it, the soft peals of your laughter makes his heart feel so light he feels like he's floating among the clouds. Cue your boyfriend jumping up onto the railings and swinging back and forth like a bat as he tells you about the time he was nearly eaten by a giant seal; he nearly kicks Sanji off the side of the Going Merry during one incredibly vigorous, almost manic jumping impression of a mammoth, snapping oyster monster that the brave Captain Usopp had to defeat to find you the pearl he knew would be the only present that could measure up to a rare treasure like you.
When the crew leads you out into the middle of a nearby island's square, despite how you'd been practising your shocked face your hands covered your mouth in genuine surprise; peppered flowers woven through vines wind around the marble arches of the gothic buildings, the warm splash from the spray of the siren fountain flutters across the rustled curls of the crawling banners running across its arches. The energetic hum of the crowd pulses through the swinging band as Usopp latches onto the bottom of your fingers and pulls you into the thrum.
Most of the night is spent with your forehead pressed firmly against Usopp, the two of you trying not to choke up bubbles as you share two striped straws and race each other to finish a cocktail bowl. The only problem is, Usopp can't help but brag about you every time he goes up to the bar to fetch you another drink, but then the silly man gets so worried that someone's going to come steal you away that he makes a beeline straight back for you, like a stinger's stuck in his bottom.
Your boyfriend has a tight, clammy grip on your hand all night - except when he's throwing shapes on the dance floor, of course. With some unfound confidence, he tries to twirl you around and dip you down into his arms, but manages to send the two of you flying straight into the side of the fountain oops.
Slightly tipsy, very giggly, and so, so completely, blissfully, ecstatically in love, the two of you come tripping back onto the ship trying to shush each other between snorts. Stripping off the various memorabilia Usopp managed to collect during the night: funky sunglasses, a string of fairy lights dangling off his shoulders, and a captain's hat, lay strewn in a haphazard trail back to Usopp's hammock.
Sanji managed to pull the short straw; tip-toeing over to the guy's quarters, he peeks through the door with an incredibly nervous furrow of his eyebrows to try and see what the two of you were up to. With a sigh, he thanked the seas to find Usopp cuddled up to you like a clingy koala bear, a lingering smile brightening his face despite the honk mimimi snores that were rising out of his chest.
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flowersandbigteeth · 1 year
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I had an idea. Drider boyfriend has a nightmare that his darling died, got hurt, or something like that. He wakes up to find comfort in his darling. How would he react to his darling silently singing to him?
Aww! Poor Vass, that breaks my heart! I was worried this one would be too sad, but it gets better at the end
Drider (Vass) x gender neutral reader
Word Count: 800
W: mention of character death, bad dreams
Fluff Masterpost
Tip Jar
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Vass looked at your still body on the ground. Your usually (Y/C) skin was pale and gaunt, not soft and dewy. He hesitantly reached out to touch you, but pulled back, horrified to find your skin was cold, not the gentle warmth he was used to. Your legs and neck were twisted at an unnatural angle, laying at the base of his nest. It sickened him and made him want to look away, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t take his eyes off of his precious Dumpling. You were so terribly still. His heart cracked. 
This was his fault. He’d only looked away for a second. Just set you down on your swing for a moment and when he’d looked back you were falling so fast. Too fast. He screamed and screamed until his own ear drums ached, but there was nothing he could do. Somewhere, someone was still screaming as he looked down at your corpse. 
You slapped Vass’s face a few times, trying to get him to wake up. He was screaming, like nothing you’d ever heard before. You didn’t even know his voice could be that loud. You finally got up on your knees on his chest and jumped a few times, hoping your weight would wake him. 
He jolted up with a start almost throwing you off of him, his eight eyes glowing brighter than normal and wide. You squealed as you almost lost your balance, circling your arms in the air, trying to catch yourself. 
“Dumpling!” Vass shouted, as you tipped over the side, grabbing you and jerking you to his chest. He squeezed you tight, burying his face in your neck. You didn’t know drider’s could cry, but the spider silk shirt Vass had made for you was wet with his tears. When he finally pulled away, he smothered your cheeks with kisses and rubbed your skin, reminding himself that it was still warm. 
With a cold sweat clinging to his brow, he looked around his nest. It was a normal drider nest. He’d crafted thick walls of his silk to insulate against the cold and sound. He had a tabletop suspended where he cooked your food, a desktop for his own work, some storage closets for your clothes and other supplies, as well as an area he’d walled off for a bathroom that was connected to the city infrastructure. However, it was basically a tall, vertical cylinder with a hole at the bottom that he usually climbed in and out of. It was perfect for a drider, but a death trap for a delicate human. 
Instinctively, he started to wrap you up in his silk, tying you as tight as he could so he could strap you safely to his chest. Panicking you squealed. 
You tugged your little hands free before he got you all wrapped up and put them on either side of his face, pulling his head down to you and searching his eyes.
“Everything is okay,” you whispered, “it was just a bad dream.”
These were the most words you’d ever said and that wasn’t lost on him, cherishing each one. It only made the dream he’d had that much scarier. You weren’t a nameless pet, anymore. You could talk, you had a personality, and he loved you. 
Tears blurred his vision and he pulled you to him again, squeezing you tight. 
“I thought you were gone,” he whispered to you, with a sob. 
“Shhh,” you hushed him, pulling his wet cheek against yours and rubbing the other one like your mother used to do. Then you quietly started humming the lullaby she used to sing to you softly in his ear. 
He laid back down, pulling you down with him, so he didn’t lose contact with your cheek, and wound a few loops of silk around your waist to tie you to him. His ears were very sensitive, but your soft humming was like the sweetest honey. He listened until it sweetly trailed off when you fell asleep. 
While he spent the rest of the night feeling your gentle breathing on his cheek, reassuring himself you were still there, he decided the next day, he was finding a new home for the two of you.
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quick-catton · 3 months
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give me all ur felix and ollie and cattonquick head-canons plz can be nsft if u wish go crazy
ANON YOU LEFT THIS ASK OVER A MONTH AGO. I AM SO SORRY.
i've been waiting to answer it until i had a good list compiled/until i had a better grasp on their characters, and honestly most of these are fairly vague since i wrote them down before we all started going insane on tumblr and digging deep into their psyches LOL but. here are some of my thoughts that i've jotted down over the past month <3
sfw:
felix is a big ol’ scaredy cat, we see that in the film. oliver finds it so incredibly endearing that this big 6’5 man has to sleep with a night light and is terrified of scary films despite adoring halloween and taking the holiday so seriously. oliver definitely loves picking scary movies on the nights where it’s his turn to choose because he loves feeling like a protector when felix is hiding his face, burying himself in the crook of his arm, clinging to him and gasping at every jumpscare. and even though felix pretends to hate it, he doesn’t actually mind because he likes getting to feel small sometimes, having an excuse to press up against ollie.
felix is a little yapper, i just know it. that mfer does notttt stop talking somedays. if he has a thought, oliver is going to hear it. if he’s bored, he’s going to make it everyone else’s problem. as a little gremlin adhd–er, i lean towards attributing it to untreated adhd, but it's also just such a felix thing. of course oliver finds it endearing, but sometimes it drives him up the absolute wall; luckily for him, there are plenty of ways to shut felix up and/or occupy his mouth instead!
oliver is more of a show than tell person, valuing being able to do acts of service for felix, or to gift him things, make him feel good, happy, whatever. i think it makes sense, since he's more reserved and quiet. felix is more of a tell than show guy, always complimenting and speaking unfiltered and dropping words of affirmation left and right, and they balance each other out in that regard.
PET! NAMES! felix is obsessed with them, he drops them left and right even on friends, and on oliver it’s two fold. darling, sweetheart, angel, bambi, my love, doll, lover, all the classics, and oliver never gets tired of it. oliver is less outspoken/public with his affection, coming back to the show vs tell thing. i think to him, calling felix by his name or shortened versions (fee, lix, etc) is just as intimate as any pet name.
felix draws hearts and little messages with his finger against oliver’s skin when they’re in public, or when they’re just laying in bed at home. oliver likes to try and decipher them, or write ones back.
i know felix drives during the roadtrip scene, but i think in a relationship he would actually be an awful driver and a big passenger princess and oliver wouldn't be picky about music so he'd let him have the aux. felix would love to just lean against the window and stare at oliver or stick his feet on the dashboard/out the window and lay his head on the console even though oliver would hate it so much because "what if we get in an accident, felix??"
felix would love to abuse his size difference and would pick up oliver literally any chance he gets and oliver would pretend to hate it but he'd grow to love it bc it means getting to have physical contact with him <3
felix is terrified of bugs and will literally stand on a stool until oliver deals with them, but oliver hates having to kill them so he takes them outside in a cup. or alternatively, oliver is absolutely terrifying and goes into murder–mode to eliminate the source of whatever is scaring felix.
nsfw:
i think they’re both switches & verses tbh, with how their personalities are they would both enjoy having control but also being able to give up control and do what they’re told.
they both have praise kinks and servicing kinks as per my extensive brainrot and whole one-shot about it lol
felix is a little slutty exhibitionist and oliver is a creeper voyeur (/affectionate). he loves to have felix dress up pretty for him and he’s obsessed with taking pictures of him on felix’s film cameras for his eyes only, wallet photos if you will. and felix loves showing off for him and feeling oliver’s eyes on him like he’s just a piece of meat, like oliver is a predator and he’s prey.
oliver is obsessed with body worship, he loves to spend ages marking felix’s skin and getting him worked up and teasing him until he snaps, all the while acting innocent because “i just wanna show you how pretty you are”. paying attention to each individual body part, leaving kisses everywhere, using body worship as an outlet for his intense obsession and fixation.
both of them are possessive, but they deal with it in different ways. felix’s jealousy is quicker to flare up and he’s more likely to be confrontational about someone hitting on oliver; he has a hard time hiding his jealousy too when oliver is being a little too friendly with someone, getting all pouty and sulky, but oliver is good at talking him down. felix leaves marks all over his neck to make himself feel better, to show everyone that oliver is his, and oliver has no complaints about this. oliver’s possessiveness is quieter, jealousy that bubbles just beneath the surface, sometimes grows borderline–murderous, but he’s never confrontational about it. he sits with it until they’re alone, and then makes sure felix remembers who he belongs to. and at the end of the day, knowing he can make felix, this powerful golden god in his eyes, crumble beneath him is enough to quell any jealousy because he knows no one else will ever see him like he gets to. oliver loves marking him up too, but he loves doing it below the collar, like a secret that only the two of them know.
felix has an oral fixation. obviously. in the film he always has a popsicle or lollipop or cigarette or finger in his mouth; it just makes sense. one of his favourite things ever is when oliver lets him lay his head in his lap and cockwarm him until his jaw is aching while they watch a movie or oliver reads, because having his mouth occupied calms his always restless body and mind, but also he loves the closeness of it. he definitely gets a tongue piercing just to fidget with, but also takes so much joy in the way it effects oliver.
they're both definitely into freak shit, that goes without being said. they both always jump to try new things, always willing to feed into each other's obsessions, to play along with each other's kinks and fixations. i could elaborate enough on their kinks for one whole post about it lbr lmfaoo
i think felix probably gets super clingy and soft spoken and cuddly after sex when he subs and how he loves that oliver makes him feel small and safe afterwards, never feeling judged for opening up in that way. oliver is absolutely such a service bottom and service top, so getting to feed into that when domming is his favourite thing. he knows what felix needs before felix does, and felix trusts him with his life (ha.) he does occasionally tease felix for being a pillow princess, though.
and then vice versa, felix loves being able to help oliver get out of his always-racing overthinking mind when oliver subs, he loves making him feel so cozy and protected and safe in his arms afterwards. he feels so special that ever–reserved oliver trusts him and lets his guard down around him like that, recognizes the vulnerability it takes, and oliver feels so special seeing how much care felix takes with him.
both of them love having their hair played with and they both definitely get off on having it pulled.
i'll do an updated one of these soon, i'm sure! honestly most of these are from maybe the first week or so after i watched saltburn for the first time, and i feel like my view on their characters has evolved a LOT since then and i could go into a lot more detail/more niche tropes, but i have a lot of asks to get back to today so i'll save it for another time. <33
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silvyslayer42 · 10 months
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saiki k headcannons (very very long post)
-kurumi + kuusuke have weird unnaturally sharp teeth that are lowkey scary if you look at them for too long. kusuo also has it but he hides it.
-if you think at kusuo, he can hear you no matter where you are. the psychickers (+ his family) know this and use it against him.
-kusuo is an unwilling empathy crier. if someone starts crying near him, he will at least start to tear up. he finds it an extreme inconvenience and does everything he can to hide it. this only really happens with people in his direct vicinity though, so no movie characters or random people in his telepathy radius.
-too many characters have similarly colored eyes, so here’s a lightning round with some eye color changes
akechi: periwinkle. it just makes sense to me ok?? a silly color for a silly goober. it grows on me more the more i think about it.
aren: dark magenta with a hint of red. i think it represents his personality better
toritsuka: dark grey. i like it and have no explanation for it. honorable mention goes to pink because it makes him match with saiki
also aiura has neon yellow eyes not green they are not green her eyes are not gre
-kusuo gets a pretty normal amount of sleep all things considered, in fact he probably gets maybe an hour or so more than average most nights because he just loves sleeping so much. kuusuke does not even go out of his way to get a bed for himself because the only sleep he gets is when he forgets to take his bi-hourly injection of whatever he’s using in place of caffeine and passes out on top of whatever he’s working on for ≈3 minutes before jolting himself awake and going back to work. if he really has to nap for whatever reason he claims the floor is plenty comfortable.
-kusuo has sedatephobia (fear of silence). while the peaceful tranquility of putting people’s thoughts on mute with the ring is nice, if he were to somehow be put into a situation with no noise at all or even just very little noise I think he’d be pretty freaked. he’s never had a truly quiet moment before, so it’s only a natural reaction to be uncomfortable with it. he would avidly deny it if asked though, even if he gets visibly anxious from it.
-kuusuke has never used bugs against kusuo directly because he thinks phobias are a cheap and uncreative tactic. the birthday card thing doesn’t count because that was only psychometry images.
-it’s not really a psychic power but all of the pk psychics have extremely strong intuitions. like they just Know things sometimes. this is basically canon for at least kusuo but that besides the point. the jury is still out on whether akechi also has the psixth sense or if he’s just weird but he is definitely on the same page as everyone else most of the time because of his near psychic analysis of his situation and surroundings
-kusuo can use transform on other people but it never comes up bc why would he do that when hypnosis is so much easier? something something genderbend episode
-kusuo had a very bad no good week like right before he got his limiters where his hair became uncuttable and he was forced to have a mullet until it culminated in kusuo willing himself into developing heat vision and cutting his hair with it to mixed results.
-each of the saiki’s think they’re the more normal one balancing out the rest of the family’s weirdness but no. all of you are weird there is no balance
-more of an opinion than a headcanon, but being average/“normal” was never really what saiki wanted. what he’s actually after is peace, and he just happens to associate those things with it. that’s why he changed the world to perceive his unusual attributes as normal when he was younger instead of changing himself to appear normal, what he truly wants is a world that he can be himself in and be at peace at the same time. the reason he refuses to admit this, even to himself, is because of his own lack of self-acceptance. you guys don’t understand he’s such an angsty and tragic character actually ! a poor little meow meow even ! listen to me !!
-kusuo and kuusuke NEED to have a “let’s take ibuprofen together” moment i will not be explaining further
-kuusuke works above board a lot, but he is definitely doing some “under the table” stuff when it comes to selling the shit he makes because he just does not care and wants money to fund his games. he is confident he will never get caught and even if he’s wrong kusuo is reversing that shit to avoid the trouble it would cause him.
-kuusuke does love robotics (specifically with making weapons but he does indulge in the gadget or two), and that is definitely his favorite to do stuff with and the thing he is most passionate about, but don’t be fooled, he does everything. any science under the sun and he is probably an expert on it. special mentions of things he knows a lot a lot about go to neuroscience, physics, biology, first aid/general medicine, pharmacology (technically canon because of that muscle relaxent from the cattank arc) and anything that you could realistically make a psi pun with.
-sometimes kuusuke randomly decides that a random ass guy is the person of the week he wants to piss off (to him it’s like being annoying to an animal, very amusing ^^). positive things about this: it’s normal a really bad person he decides to be a menace to like a rich guy or a corrupt politician. bad things about this: he has had to deal with hired hits on him before
-aiura can get a very accurate read on someone’s personality near instantly and has an encyclopedic knowledge on everyone. she knows your birthday and she knows what you want. teruhashi too but not because she’s psychic she’s just also weird.
-aiura has a very bad sleep schedule because she gets woken up in the middle of the night by visions of disaster. this is NOT THE SAME as kusuo’s visions !! kusuo is tormented in his sleep, she is kept awake. aiura also sometimes has visions of shit right before it happens and if it’s a bad thing she has to think quick on her feet to stop it.
-aiura does not stop helping people she just gets a little bit better at being discreet. eventually she goes freelance and owns her own shop for occult stuff good for her
ok that’s all i got for now. tune in whenever i decide to do this again for more bangers
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hezuart · 7 months
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Hey! Dyt that they have Ruined Striker’s Character in Helluva Boss? I Loved The Striker that we had in Season 1 but in Season 2 it feels a bit off for me, I don’t know where to put my finger on it. It’s like he lost that sense of character that he had in Season 1, It’s hard for me to explain it. I guess I shouldn’t have expected as much for This Series but sadly Love it and would it be Bad if I thought that Striker and Blitz should have ended up Together and take his offer in The Harvest Moon festival Episode? (if they did take that offer, I would’ve loved to see them taking down some Overlords in Hell, Plus Something about Their interactions made me Ship Them More Than Stolas, Wondered what actually happened if he joined the I.M.P?? I mean he nearly did but Oh Well) and Also Blitz has a Horse!? Does Loona know about this!? WT-!?
Reasons why Striker's character is "ruined" since season 2:
1. His arrogance has been upped to a ridiculous degree (big d*ck statues of himself) He was only arrogant around Moxie because they hated each other, but Striker showed off in physical skill and song. Not sexually? 2. In season 1, he was stealthy, unknown, and very cunning. In season 2, he is brash, famous, and dumb. (He tries to kill Stolas in a public setting without protecting his own identity, he's apparently a well-known killer for hire in Wrath, and he doesn't kill Stolas immediately after finally tying him up in the alleyway. 3. In season 1 he wiped the floor with Moxie, Millie, and Blitz, while in season 2, randomly, Millie & Moxie and Blitz defeat him easily and twice, making him look pathetic. 4. In season 1 he was hired by Stella, a high-class goetia to kill Stolas, and thus was provided angelic weapons to do so. He hates upper-class demons and to be working for one is a high level of irony that adds more to his character; but it also hinted that he was playing dirty, that he would eventually use these weapons to turn against Stella to kill other high-class demons to fight against the political power balance (which is what he invited Blitz to) and Stella provided a great boon for him; extremely rare, dangerous weapons. In season 2, he's seen working for Crimson. However, he is the one providing his resume, almost begging to be hired by a (supposed to be) low-class IMp Mob Boss, but outside of maybe money, Crimson has nothing of value to offer in comparison to the hot deal that was Stella's offering. 5. In season 1, he is brutal but thorough with his attacks. He doesn't play with his toys. In season 2, he drags Stolas's torture out, messing around and playing with him for no good reason. (Yeah, Stella ordered that, but she ordered it LATER, AFTER Stolas was captured, and even that is against what season 1 Stella wanted, she wanted him dead ASAP. There is no reason to torture Stolas, especially if it leaves things open for him to escape. 6. His voice actor changed. Bosco does a really good job, but it's just not the same. Striker was probably the best villain in the series, and now he's just kind of a villain of the we(a)k kind of character I just don't care about anymore.
His character was only slightly better in the Fizzarolli past episode, but just seeing him dumbly pay attention to Fizz's song just solidified he's a joke now. Season 1 Striker would never do that. He would have sniffed out Blitz and gone after him immediately. Maybe have even shot Fizz; Crimson ordered him not to hurt him, but I dont think Striker would give a damn at that point. I agree that Striker and Blitz would be a far more interesting dynamic. Actually fighting against the power instead of Blitz just... sleeping with said power. Blitz wrapped himself up in Stolas, basically becoming his s*x slave in exchange for the book. Blitz even runs a business for sinners, sinners of which are dangerous towards imps and overpopulating Hell's upper layer. Striker offers him an out, Striker offers him everything. He offers him change, he offers him a chance to be someone. Stolas on the other hand still hasn't changed his classist attitude. A part of him will always disrespect Blitz, and I don't know if the writers will ever address it at this point. I mean, Blitz was confirmed to have been attracted to him. It very well could have happened.
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kingschclar · 2 years
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KINKTOBER DAY EIGHT — sensory deprivation with jack howl
contains :: gn!reader, dom!reader, sub!jack, aged up characters, reader and jack implied to be in a long distance relationship + implied to be lifelong partners, blindfolding, a hint of predator/prey, dry humping, nipple play
a/n !! — i’m sorry if it sounds kinda weird tumblr did not save my first drafts and i had to redo the whole thing while almost crying. this is also shorter than the first prompt because i was about to break down
kinktober mlist !!
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Jack’s ears twitched as he listened to the soft ruffling of the sheets beneath him. You were waiting patiently — for what, he didn’t know — and it reminded him of a predator stalking its prey. The thought made him shiver in anticipation.
It has been a while since your graduation from Night Raven College, which was the last time he saw you. He tried not to miss you too much. It wasn’t too bad, considering you both had each others numbers and would text throughout the day, but it still doesn’t beat seeing you in person.
As soon as his eyes met yours, he pulled you into his arms, kissing you softly as he basked in your presence. He just so happened to get hard as you were cuddling on the couch, and you just so happened to have the idea to blindfold him.
The situation unfolded the way it did, leading to this moment.
Jack snapped back into the present as he felt your feather-light touch on his abdomen, muscles contracting for a second as he let out a breath. You were finally touching him. He wouldn’t ever admit it, but he was getting a little desperate to finally feel your skin against his.
You moved your fingertips higher and higher, letting Jack wait for a moment before starting to rub at his nipples, already hardened due to the cold. He sighed softly as he leaned his head back further, ears twitching once again as he tried to listen for your movements. You moved as quietly as you could, although you were almost certain that he’d picked up on the ruffling of the sheets. Straddling his waist, you continued your ministrations. You leaned in, making sure he could feel the warmth of your skin getting closer but not touching, just to tease a little. He knew better than to move toward you.
Deciding that he’d been good, you finally latched your lips around his other nipple, running your tongue over the bud as Jack let out a sharp gasp, fingers twitching before finding purchase on one of the pillows beside him. Due to his lack of sight, everything you did was a surprise to him. It also heightened all of his other senses, making him more sensitive than he’d normally be.
After some time, Jack thrusted up into you softly, letting out a sound almost akin to a whine as he threw you a little off balance. He felt your hands come to rest on his shoulders and shuddered, gulping.
“Sorry..” he muttered, relaxing a little when he heard you chuckle.
“Missed me that much, hm?” You teased, leaning in to press your forehead against his. Jack huffed, almost indignantly.
“Of course, that shouldn’t even be a question.” You finally close the gap between your lips, kissing him much deeper and harder than before. Jack gasped, hands slowly moving up to your waist. Seeing as you didn’t say anything to it, he let himself grip onto your hips, pulling you in closer as he thrusted up into you again.
You moaned against him, hands now tangled in his hair as you ground down on him, the both of you quickly settling into a rhythm as your sounds filled the room.
“L-Love,” he rasped out. “Can you take off the blindfold? Please?” He added, not missing a beat. You grinned. Even after a few months of not seeing each other, he was still such a good boy for you. “I… want to see you when I c-cum,” he sounded desperate, ears folding backwards as the hands on your hips shook. Oh, he was so very close. You struggled to untie the knot as you moved on top of him, but the moment you did, his eyes widened. You saw his pupils dilate as he fought to keep his eyes open, trembling almost harshly as he came, the pleasurable sensation pulsing through him. You felt the knot in your lower body snap right after, clinging onto him tightly as you both rode out your orgasms. Jack wrapped his arms around your waist, making you more safe and secure than ever.
“Hey, Jack,” you called out, and he hummed. “Did you cum from seeing me?” You waited for a response but got none. Well, his almost-nervous gaze and slightly wagging tail told you enough either way. “No need to be shy about it, big guy,” you teased, snickering as he grumbled.
“I mean,” he mumbled into your skin. “It’s the face I’m gonna see for the rest of my life… It’d only be natural…” You laughed at how shy he was acting for someone claiming that it was natural.
“We can wash up first, then continue what we were doing before if you’d like?” You asked, and he nodded.
“Missed you so much.”
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ikaroux · 2 years
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You are my gift.
Synopsis: Diluc has a special place in your heart. You both have known each other since you were children, and even though you were separated for three long years, the affection you have for each other is still the same.
Style: f!reader, romance, love, anniversary, childhood friend.
Alert: NSFW (18+) I remind minors to avoid reading this kind of content.
Characters: Diluc.
Note: It's been a while since I posted anything, sorry! Since it was Diluc's birthday, I wanted to write something for him, this character I love so much. I found his message so adorable, of course I'm going to have dinner with him!
I'm recovering from the covid, even if I still have some remains like cough and tiredness, I will try to get back to writing little by little!
Have a good read.
Masterlist
Happy birthday my dear Diluc.
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Leaning against the window, your gaze wandering to the sky, you wondered what Diluc was doing right now. You hadn't seen him for several days, his work taking up most of his time.
You and Diluc were longtime friends, at least from his point of view. You'd always had a crush on him, but you didn't let it show for fear of destroying the bond between you. You were close, very close. Diluc always treated you with gentleness and courtesy, like a sister, you thought… it was probably better than nothing?
A desperate sigh escaped you as your gaze turned to the small box you had carefully sealed with a ribbon earlier in the day. Today was Diluc's birthday… It was not a festive day for him. His father had died on his eighteenth birthday, his brotherly relationship with Kaeya had been shattered on the same day, as well as his faith and future in the Knights of Favonius.
You grasped the gift package in your hand, caressing the red ribbon tied around it. You brought it to your lips, closing your eyes to picture the face of the man you loved so much. Where was he right now? You wanted to see him, hear him, hold him. Was he replaying past events? A small part of you hoped that he was thinking of you, that he wanted you close to him for this day that was entirely dedicated to him. But it was probably prideful of you to think that way. Diluc may have had a special place in your heart, but that wasn't how he saw you. He had never shown any sign of being attracted to you.
You were too blind.
Not seeing all the signals he was sending you.
All the little touches he was offering you.
You were the only one he looked at. The only one he cherished.
You didn't trust yourself. You thought you were insignificant next to him.
How wrong you were.
You were his treasure. The one who kept him balanced in a constantly dark world.
The sound of flapping wings brought you out of your sad thoughts. Your eyes turned to the window, where a familiar eagle was perched. The one that never left Diluc.
A message was entangled in one of its legs, carefully tied with a string. You carefully untangled it and read it, a smile already on your face as you knew who it was from. As you unfolded it, you could see the delicate handwriting of Diluc, so familiar to you. He always wrote letters to you with the utmost care. You were so used to his pen that you were sure you could tell if a letter was from him without him signing it.
Your eyes roamed over the few words he had eagerly written to you.
"Y/n, meet me at the cemetery. Diluc."
Your fingers had tightened around the paper, crumpling it. Diluc was at his father's grave, alone. The thought pinched your heart. Without thinking, you rushed to your front door, quickly taking a vest with you before stepping out and slamming the door behind you, forgetting about Diluc's gift and his eagle.
You ran through the streets of Mondstadt, narrowly avoiding walkers and stumbling several times on the steps leading to the cathedral. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest. You didn't know exactly what you were feeling at that moment. Was it fear? Anguish? Sadness? Or maybe just the overwhelming need to be with him? By the time you asked yourself all these questions, you had already reached the backyard of the Favonius church, where the Mondstadt cemetery was. You quickly spotted him, standing in front of a grave, his long black coat adorning his back and his familiar red hair.
Diluc.
As you caught your breath, you took the time to admire his figure. In his hand he held a bouquet of lamp grass flowers, the ones his father loved so much. Diluc looked silently at the grave, his eyes clouded with memories. He didn't seem to notice you or his eagle, which had probably left your apartment through the window you had left open in your haste. When the eagle let out a shrill cry to signal its presence to its master, Diluc finally turned his gaze from the grave to the animal he cherished so much. He gently held out his forearm for it to rest on.
"I see that you have conveyed my message well. Do you think she will come? This isn't exactly the ideal place for a date…" - Diluc's voice was soft, barely noticeable. Yet that didn't stop you from hearing it. You smiled as you noticed his relaxed, peaceful expression. With a lighter heart, you tried to approach him without making a sound, which allowed you to delicately steal the bouquet from his hands, surprising him at the same time. His eyes, at first wild with anger, quickly softened at the sight of you. A warm smile lit up his features as he let his bird take flight.
"Thank you for coming y/n."
"It's nothing. I'm glad you invited me to spend this time with you. I'm sorry, I was in such a rush to get to you that I didn't think to buy flowers for your father."
"Don't worry, I don't think he'll be offended." - His gaze was turned to his father's grave. The sadness had disappeared to make way for serenity. After a moment, he looked at you again. The ardor of his gaze made you blush despite yourself. Softly, his hand came to slide along your arm until your wrist, seizing delicately this one before going down to the bouquet of flowers that you had taken to him a little earlier. His gaze had not left the movement of his hand on your skin and a slight blush began to appear on his cheeks. He finally took the bouquet from your hands, taking a few lamp grass to offer them to you. Silence reigned between the two of you, only the sound of the wind beating the leaves of the trees kept you in reality. You wanted to tell him. To confess everything to him.
Diluc, I love you. I have always loved you.
But your lips remained sealed, this was not the time or place to think about that. So instead, you turned to the grave of Crepus Ragnvindr, breaking the visual link with Diluc. You knelt before the grave, silent, before placing the few flowers Diluc had given you. Diluc, in turn, placed his bouquet. You didn't dare look at him, you didn't want him to see the feelings you were expressing. It was suffocating, painful. But wasn't it better to suffer than to lose the friendship that bound you together? You took a moment to breathe before standing up and turning your gaze back to him. His eyes remained fixed on you, so penetrating and warm. You didn't know why the tears were coming to your eyes. Perhaps it was because of that moment of silence at his father's grave? Or maybe it was the thought that Diluc would never be yours?
Diluc's gloved thumb brushed against your tear-dampened cheek. His concerned look made you wish you had held them back.
"Would you mind accompanying me back to my place? I have something for you."
"For me? What's the occasion?"
"It's your birthday, silly. How can you forget something so important?"
"It's not that important."
"It is to me!" - The twinkle in his eyes made you smile. You finally took his hand to guide him home. Although the walk was silent the whole way, the hand squeezing yours made you feel pleasantly good. You weren't used to Diluc showing affection, let alone in public. Yet it was he who was squeezing your hand in his, hard enough to make you feel his warmth, but not hard enough to hurt you. His thumb was constantly playing with your fingers, sometimes tenderly caressing the back of your hand. You didn't know if it was intentional on his part, but you couldn't deny that it felt good. When you finally reached the landing of your apartment, you invited him into your home. This was not the first time he had come. How many times had you welcomed him into your home, wounded by mages from the abyss or exhausted by the workload he had imposed on himself. You had stopped counting, what mattered to you was that he felt at home here. This was difficult at first, knowing his upbringing as well as his nobility of spirit. Diluc was a gentleman, entering your home as he pleased was inconceivable to him, even with so many years of friendship. "I cannot invade your space as I wish. Understand that I'm still a man, Y/n." he had told you the first time you had offered to stay at your house for the night. You never really understood what he meant, or rather, you didn't want to understand. Today, everything had become easier for him. You had always made him feel comfortable, so much so that now he was able to sit on your couch without waiting for your consent. You always had something for him in reserve, in case he decided to come to your house unexpectedly. So he was not surprised when you served him a glass of grape juice and a tray of fruit.
Diluc watched you running around the apartment, finding it adorable that you wanted to please him every time he came over. He couldn't take his eyes off you, thinking about the promise he had made earlier at his father's grave. He wanted to confess his feelings to you. His affection for you had been eating away at him for years, he couldn't stand the childhood friend relationship he had with you. As a child, you considered him as a brother. You probably still do. But Diluc had always seen you as a young girl, gradually growing into the beautiful woman you are today. He burned with love for you. The three years he spent away from Mondstadt made him realize how important you were in his life. He loved you, he always loved you. He hoped that perhaps the feeling was mutual. His eyes turned to the palm of his hand. He could still feel the warmth of your skin there. Diluc closed his eyes, clenching his fist firmly against his thigh. His heart was pounding. He was afraid. Afraid of losing you by admitting his feelings to you.
"Diluc?"
Diluc gasped, quickly opening his eyes and bringing them back to you. You presented him with a small gift box sealed with a ribbon. Diluc looked at it for a long moment before carefully grasping it.
"Happy birthday, Diluc. I hope you like it." - You sat beside him, admiring his every expression.
"You shouldn't have spent your moras on me."
"Don't play dumb, open it!"
Diluc could see the excitement in your eyes and he felt his lips stretch into a wide smile. More than anything else, he loved seeing you laugh, smile. He loved to see you happy, even for such small things. With you, his birthdays had become more bearable. Less painful. Slowly, he tugged on the ribbon's knot, sliding it along the package until it lay on his thighs. When he lifted the lid, he found two chess-like objects inside, one made of white ivory and the other of black. A king and queen in the shape of an owl and an owl.
"These are collectible pieces. I hope you like them." - Diluc didn't answer you, his eyes continuing to admire the detailed workmanship of each piece. You knew of his love for birds and his penchant for chess, and you thought there was nothing better to give him as a birthday present, even if it cost you a month's salary. Only his silence made you doubt. Didn't he like it?
"y/n, they're beautiful. From the quality, I imagine the price of these pieces must have been quite exorbitant… You shouldn't have…"
"Diluc, it's my money, I do what I want with it. If I decide to spend it on you, I will." - You tell him proudly.
"Why are you always so stubborn?" - He answers with a sigh. - "Thanks, I'll take care of it."
Diluc carefully placed the chess pieces back into their box before turning to you. He took your hands in his, slowly bringing them close to his lips. Your cheeks turned incredibly red as your eyes followed his every move. There was a heavy silence between you two. Diluc's eyebrows furrowed as he seemed to think about something. His lips pursed, he gripped your hands a little tighter in his before looking into yours.
"y/n, I have something important to tell you, I would like you to listen to me without interrupting." - You slowly nodded your head, apprehensive about what he was about to tell you. "I know that you and I have known each other since childhood. I've watched you grow up, becoming more and more beautiful, more and more desirable to men. I have seen you become a woman. I know very well that you have always seen me as a brother, but I… I have always looked at you y/n. I love you, I have always loved you. I can't stand this distance imposed by fear, apprehension. I do not ask you to love me in return. I simply want you to realize that in my eyes, you are neither a sister, nor a childhood friend…" - Diluc lifted your face that you had lowered to hide your blush. His warm gaze brought tears to your eyes again. His thumb wiped them away before his lips brushed yours. It was sweet, loving, just as you had both imagined. Seeing that you didn't reject him, Diluc pressed his kiss a little more, his hand coming to rest on the back of your neck to keep you where you are. Your lips performed a more and more sensual waltz, exploring each other's limits. Encouraged by your little moans, Diluc was the first to try an opening with his tongue. Too stunned by your kiss, you didn't feel yourself tipping over onto the couch, Diluc above you continuing to kiss you as if it were the last time he would do so. Your hands came to lose themselves in his hair, savoring its softness.
Please make it all real.
Your arms tightened around Diluc as your mind prayed. It couldn't be real, could it? Diluc lying on top of you, your lips desperately searching for each other. Your legs wrapped around his hips as he pressed himself a little closer to you. You needed to melt into each other. You had been looking for each other for so long, each thinking you were living a one-way love. When Diluc felt his lower abdomen become incredibly sore, he stopped kissing you and looked into your eyes, darkened by lust.
"y/n… Tell me I can go further… I don't want to force you, or push you around. Tell me to stop, and I will." - His look was desperate, as was yours.
"Please prove to me that this is not all a dream." - Diluc breathed in, his hand coming to grasp yours to intertwine his fingers. His lips merged with you again in a passionate kiss while his free hand was busy undoing your clothes. It wasn't long before she managed to strip you completely, stepping back to admire your naked body.
"You're beautiful…"- In turn, you straightened up to help him remove his clothes. As soon as his muscular torso was exposed to you, your hungry hands came to explore it, languidly caressing his abs, waist, chest and arms. Diluc was simply perfect, just as you had imagined… He patiently let you discover him before attacking his pants, enjoying the softness of your hands on his skin. His eyes did not leave you of the glance, hypnotized by your movements sometimes hesitant, but exploratory. He would sometimes take your wrist to bring your hand to an area you had not yet claimed. He was patient, incredibly patient. But you weren't. Diluc grunted in surprise when he felt your hands undo the waistband of his pants, then pull at the fabric of his underwear to free his already incredibly hardened member. He was big, perhaps too big for you, and that scared you a little.
"Ah-Di-Diluc I don't know if I could…"
"Shh… Let me prepare you properly. Trust me, I wouldn't do anything to hurt you y/n"
You gently nodded, obediently letting Diluc lay you back on the couch. He finished removing his clothes before positioning himself over you. His hair strands came to tickle your face and as your eyes gazed at each other with consuming passion, your hand came to caress his strands, adjusting them behind his ear. Diluc leaned into your hand, closing his eyes for a moment to savor the intimate touch.
"I love you Diluc." - He instantly opened his eyes to look at you. You could read all the love he had for you in them, his warm smile made your heart beat faster. Diluc buried his face in the crook of your neck, placing passionate kisses on it. His hands explored your body. The sound of his palm smoothing your skin filled your ears, warming your waist before moving up to your chest, sensually massaging your breasts. His fingers warmed the hardened tips of your nipples chilled by the cold air of the living room. You could feel his hips rubbing against you as his member brushed against your entrance in a slow back and forth motion. Diluc relished the taste of your skin, licking and sucking on every inch he could reach. When his lips found the hardened tip of your nipple, he decided to occupy his hands differently. One spread your leg further apart, while the other tended to your lower region, caressing your entrance already coated with your natural lubricant. Diluc grunted softly against you as his fingers touched your sensitive nerve. You were already squirming underneath him, begging him to penetrate you with his fingers. Your lover pulls back, a charming smile on his lips as he watches your face. He finally stops torturing you, slowly burying his middle finger inside you. It was soft and smooth to the touch, and Diluc couldn't help but tremble as he thinks about what it will be like when he enters you. He began a slow back and forth motion, seeking out the places that made you moan his name. As soon as he felt you trembling under his touch, he knew he had found your G-spot. Gradually, he added a finger with the first and then a third, opening you up enough for him. You couldn't take it anymore, your legs were shaking, you needed to feel him inside you, against you. You wanted to kiss him while he made you his, you wanted to be one with him. An unknown warmth was rising in your lower abdomen, forcing your hands to come and clasp around your lover's arms. Diluc could feel it, too, and he sped up his hand movements to bring you the release your body so eagerly craved. He leaned into you, joining his lips to yours, as you came on his fingers that continued their languid back and forth until you calmed down.
His eyes were fixed on you as you caught your breath. Diluc slowly withdrew his fingers from you before standing up to look for something in his coat pocket.
"Diluc?" - When he found it, he quickly returned to you to show you what he held in his hand. A condom. - "Oh… So you had planned this?" - You say with a little tease. You suspected that no, it wasn't Diluc's style, but nevertheless, it caused an indecent blush on his cheeks.
"It wasn't me, it was that weasel Kaeya who slipped it into my pocket when I passed him at the cemetery. By the time I realized it, he was already away from me, yelling at me that it was a special gift��" - You laughed at Diluc's embarrassed expression. You knew he was probably inwardly calling his brother every name he knew.
"That's a pretty good gift idea." - You whispered to him as your hands grasped his face and gently brought it to your lips. Diluc relented, panting into your kiss. Reluctantly, he pulled away from you, hastily opening the condom to slide it down his member. Diluc came back to you, grabbing your thigh and placing it in the crook of his arm. You could feel him positioning himself at your entrance, barely entering before he leaned into you, his lips brushing against yours.
"Tell me if this hurts…" - He whispered to you as he began to sink in. He was tall, and much wider than you could accommodate inside you. Your nails dug into his shoulders as a sharp pain washed over you as Diluc penetrated you. His face was covered in sweat, his expression frozen. You were so tight around him that he couldn't stop soft grunts of pleasure from coming out of his throat each time he pushed a little deeper into you. Your first orgasm made the penetration easier and less painful than you had anticipated, and as soon as Diluc reached the bottom, he dropped onto you, panting heavily as his body shook with pleasure. "Finally… You're finally mine… I've wanted you for so long, y/n." - His words made you clench around him, causing him to moan with pleasure once again. Diluc straightened up on his forearm so he could place languid kisses on your lips. Your legs wrapped around his hips as your hands gripped his hair and smoothed his sweaty back. Diluc's hips began to move of their own accord, slowly penetrating you as his lips continued their sensual dance with you. Having him inside you was like a dream come true. He was so well designed for you, filling you perfectly. His sex was divinely touching that spot deep inside you that made you moan with pleasure every time he rocked his hips. You and Diluc continued to kiss for a long time, his languid movements continuing to make you see the stars. Gradually, his undulations began to accelerate, becoming harder as he did so. His hips slammed against you, making the sounds of your lovemaking echo through the room. Diluc pulled away from your lips, gritting his teeth to keep from moaning openly. His eyes remained focused on the expressions of well-being you were making, as you moaned with happiness. He never thought he would hear you scream his name with such ardor and passion. His hands came to plant themselves in the skin of your hips as he straightened up to better penetrate you. This new angle was perfect, allowing Diluc to take his entire member inside you. His strokes became harder and faster. He could feel your walls closing in around him as you moved closer to release. Feeling himself close to the edge, Diluc couldn't hold his voice any longer, moaning praise and your name over and over until your orgasm trapped him in a vice of pure pleasure. Diluc continued to pound you until he himself reached his end.
He collapsed gently onto you, his hips continuing to make small circular movements. His lips sought yours, begging for your attention. Your hands on his cheeks, you pulled him to you, eager for his lips. Your kiss was delicate, slower and savory. Now that you had claimed each other, you could live in the moment. Diluc stopped moving, but he didn't separate himself from you. He was still hard inside you, and you wondered if this was something common to all men. Finally, he pulled his lips away, looking at you with his red eyes. His forehead pressed against yours.
"You are my greatest gift…" - He whispered to you, moved.
"I love you Diluc. Happy birthday." - You answered him, just as moved as he was. He kissed you again in response, his hips slowly moving back and forth.
His birthday had taken on a more savory flavor.
You were the most precious gift he had ever received.
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conflictofthemind · 27 days
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Not saying this means anything especially since TBSOAS (the book) only came out in 2020, more of a “hey this is weird” post but:
I’ve always thought these two looked / were similar as two wavy blond haired blue eyed men, and it definitely helps that they both premiered (in the case of film Corio) within one year of each other . But there’s like, more than that? And some of it is very strange?
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First off, they are two characters who since the start of their chronological stories teeter between ‘good’ and ‘evil’ with a lot of forces in their life, including their evil scientist mentor, pushing them towards the dark side by use of manipulation tactics. Henry is much more of a direct victim to this than Corio is though, and the latter also does have more good influences in his life.
“Fueled with the terror of becoming Prey, see how quickly we become Predator?” - Dr. Gaul
“I could restore balance to a broken world… a predator, but for good” - Henry Creel / 001
Also, can I mention how both TBOSAS and TFS are set in the same exact time period? The Hunger Games uses retro futurism since the entire story is set centuries from now, but the era is clearly inspired by the late 50s to early 60s, especially given that it takes place 60 years before the main series.
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Now here’s the actual weird part that had me making this post.
Both of their origin stories center on a romance with a female co-lead that ends with them killing her (heavy question mark). That’s not the weird part. It’s the way that the plots of both of these origin stories and said female characters are based off of old European folk-songs that were popular in Appalachia. TFS is based off of ‘The Tale of Barbara Allen’ and TBOSAS is based off of ‘The Ballad of Lucy Gray’ - Stranger Things just bothered to change her name to Patty Newby. Barbara Allen (Patty) appears as a covey sister of Lucy Gray in TBSOAS. Naturally, both of these characters are singers which plays a role in their respective stories.
I just have to say, it’s a very obscure source of inspiration to happen twice like this. There is a little part of me that thinks Kate Trefry and the writing crew on TFS might have been fans of The Hunger Games. But who knows.
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Suzanne Collins wrote the TBOSAS prequel to answer the question of ‘nature vs nurture’ and how much choice villains have in becoming their future selves - which is the exact same question that is actively being posed by Stranger Things in regards to Henry.
And then how I got started on this line of thinking again today - the older adult versions of these characters both kidnap the respective sweet boy love interests and hijack them against the main characters. For strategic reasons and, in the case of Peeta, emotionally torturing the main character so she gives up. Will and Peeta are just both so similar as characters; soft and sensitive, traumatized, painters, both the poor underdogs with (seemingly) unrequited love for the protagonist though Mike isn’t really the protagonist.
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I’m not sure if there’s actual inspiration being taken here. I typically assume not on the basis that I’m someone who can find connections between any pieces of media I enjoy. But the whole Appalachian folktale angle of it all is strange to me.
While I don’t think Henry was conceived with this in mind, it’s possible the inspiration sprang up during the further fleshing out of his backstory and into writing The First Shadow. Maybe it will even have an impact on the final season.
One of the things I liked about TBOSAS was the theme of the past coming back to haunt Snow in the future through Katniss and the music Lucy Gray created living on through her. If this was in any way inspiration, I’d love to see Vecna haunted by how similar Will is to him and especially the ways that he is different and able to do better.
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sendothetaurus · 17 days
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Scaramouche deserved better
This is kind of a hot take on chapter III of the archon quest.
I love theorizing and picking things apart, so please don't come for me bhfwlahwlxnfl.
It might be useful to have some knowledge about what has happened so far. (This post is very long, also SPOILERS)
Remember, this is an opinion, not a fact or an offence against anybody. This has nothing to do with the cn drama. This is just me nitpicking at the story lol
The erasure of Scaramouche’s past was unnecessary.
In hindsight, it is a repetitive plot line, already established with the “death” of Greater Lord Rukkhadevata. She ceased because she eliminated the forbidden knowledge and therefore stopped the withering in Irminsul. In context, her disappearance made sense. With Scaramouche, however, it doesn’t: All the carefully thought through occurrences, all the relationships and connections between characters are annihilated in the process of changing Scaramouche’s past. Did it matter that Ei left her almost literal son alone? No, because she doesn’t remember. Did it matter that Niwa and Mikoshi Nagamasa accepted and perhaps loved the Kabukimono? No, because they are long dead and they have forgotten that he even existed. Did it matter that he found out the truth about Dottore’s murder? No, because Niwa died in the furnace instead, or so everyone believes. Why let everyone forget he killed hundreds of swordsmiths only to retell the truth? It would have made more sense if it wasn’t even erased in the first place. The only thing remaining for the Wanderer is the agony that nobody remembers except for a chosen few and himself. If anything, he only brought suffering upon himself. In the end, a very huge part of character development is lost this way.
By erasing himself, Scaramouche didn’t achieve anything.
If he hadn’t forgotten himself, there would be no rescue arc for him. He hadn’t changed his mind about the Traveler at that point in the story. In Act III, Inversion of Genesis, The Night-Bird Falls at the Curtain's Call, Scaramouche specifically states:
“...Or maybe killing me is all you can think about? But if that's the case, why haven't you done it already? [...] Sometimes it's you using them, other times it's them using you. Most human relationships are this way... certainly all the stable ones are. That's how it was between me and the Fatui, and also between each of the Harbingers. So as long as you have some value to offer, nobody will ever abandon you. But after recent events, even I have to admit that I'm not worth quite what I used to be…”
What I take from this are three things: Scaramouche acknowledges the Traveler as a threat. He uses Nahida’s deal as a backup for his own safety because providing utility to others is what he defines as a stable relationship. He also accepts his position as inferior - for the time being. This is the start of the turning point.
The Wanderer later says in Act III, Inversion of Genesis, As Though Morning Dew:
“Even if I'm completely worthless, there's nothing in the world worth regretting. [...] Utility to others is what gives me worth. So if embracing my sins is what it takes to make me useful again, so be it. [...] Sorry if I have a slightly different perspective on things. [...] Well, whatever your reasons, you did me a favor, and I'll do everything I can to pay it back. [...] Borrowing and returning are the only real relationships between individuals. I'll balance the books one day, don't you worry.”
He didn’t change his view of relationships, as much is clear. This logically drives him to “repay the favor” the Traveler did for him. Fueled by his unchanging way of understanding a true and kind-hearted relationship, it sounds like the Wanderer just atones for his sins because someone (in this case Nahida; she concludes: “In all honesty, your past experiences have made you a useful asset to Sumeru and to me. Winning you over was indeed a part of my plan.”) wants him to. This again makes him a puppet to his circumstance, instead of empowering him to make the right choice on his own. His whole life, it was the circumstance that created the scornful being he became in the end (this is a reference to the three betrayals and his relationship with the Fatui). His will to be “of use” actually hindered him in finding a path that is not influenced by others. Him realizing this would be a satisfying and meaningful way to change the tides of the storyline and would carry an important message.
The existence of the Wanderer doesn’t make sense.
It is unclear how much control Scaramouche had over the creation of the Wanderer and if he was involved in the changes that were made around Teyvat. Irminsul has its limits on what it can and cannot change. Then again, I feel like the fact that he forgot himself was merely a catalyst for the current events, speeding up the pace for him to switch sides. Did the Wanderer just wake up the morning Paimon forgot about Scaramouche? How did he exit Irminsul if he forgot everything? Where do his clothes come from? Why was he in the wilderness when he woke up? We don’t know what life the Wanderer believed to have lived before regaining his memories, which is a major plot hole that could be filled in the future. But arguably the most jarring thing about the Wanderer is his personality.
What purpose does the character serve story-wise? For sure, it’s displaying a contrast between the two entities, the yin to the yang one could say. Maybe it’s meant as a “what could have been” or as an example for gratitude and affability, traits which Scaramouche never possessed. How can it be that someone so cruel and relentless carries something so pure at heart inside of him? If it hadn’t been for all the betrayals maybe this is what we would have gotten instead. It shows how the world changed Scaramouche when he felt powerless in the face of hardship. Which is why he defined his worth as the acknowledgement and utility to others - because he couldn’t find it within himself. Because he felt inferior to everything and everyone from his birth to his procession of achieving Godhood. And in the end, he lost everything but his body.
This consequently motivates the Wanderer to seek the truth about his past. Through him we get insight on both Scaramouche’s and Wanderer’s thoughts:
“I don't think I can judge everything I've heard purely in terms of right and wrong. Each choice a person makes belongs to a specific place and time, a chain of cause and effect... a cycle of karma and consequence. [...] I'm just a puppet, with no heart and no name. There is nothing in this world for me to cling to, to fill the void within me... except maybe these sins that can never be undone. [...] I've always believed that human lives follow a set of rules, with each person being a collection of past experiences. As a puppet living in the human world, my life is subject to the same rules. [...]  I've lived with a void in my chest my whole life. My creator didn't need me, and ever since I awoke, I've just drifted from one place to the next. [...] I've always felt I have an innate tendency to yearn for something more, in a way that goes deeper than for most people... But for all my soul-searching as a shugenja, I've never fully understood it. Looking at it now, it seems that I brought this curse upon myself.”
This is the first and only time the Wanderer admits this to himself; that he was searching for something that ultimately led him to his demise. After regaining his memories, he reverts to his old self, as explained above. Even if it is a very clever way to make the character consistent throughout the story, I wished we would have seen some character development, especially of Scaramouche since he’s the one filling The Wanderers consciousness.
I thought about how it would be to remember two lifetimes in one body: Even if someone told you what you did in another life, would that change who you are now? Then what if you had memories of that other life inside you, would that erase the you that is currently existing? This is why I don’t agree with Nahida’s statement:
“If you accept that he is you, just as you are you, then yes - you are evil.”
It feeds into the fact that The Wanderer’s personality later resembles the one of Scaramouche. The Wanderer accepts that he is “evil” and has to “face the music”. Again, he takes responsibility for Scaramouche’s past because his will to be of utility to others presses him to do it. Clearly, in this moment he had the chance to turn his back on his past and instead live on as the more kind and benevolent version of himself. I would have liked to spend more time with the soft Wanderer, the one that was born with a pure “heart”, the one who learned to love instead of hate. It would have left a bitter-sweet feeling because he would be content like this, never truly understanding why he inflicted these cruel things on others.
Let's look at this from yet another perspective: What if Scaramouche wanted to forget about the deaths, the betrayals at the cost of losing the memory of his friends too? Wouldn’t that have been a far greater punishment? To know that you willingly wipe out every single last teardrop and every single spark of joy? On the other hand, I understand why other people would despise this ending because Scaramouche would never really have to feel any lasting consequence for what he did. He would just be “neutralized”.
The alternation of Irminsul’s records has differing effects.
The Doctor still did the experiments, so the results must be in his possession. Despite not knowing who he experimented with, The Doctor would still have knowledge of how to create a God. This can be concluded because Paimon accidentally broke a vase when she was worried about Scaramouche. After “changing” the past, the vase is still broken. This indicates that the general memory of everyone changed, however the world remained the same. All objects are still the way they were before the change occurred. This is an interesting concept of changing the past, but it doesn’t add up with what happens in the plot. After Scaramouche’s meddling with Irminsul’s records, the Traveler meets Aqaba and Sawada, whose research was altered in favor of erasing Scaramouche. However, this shouldn’t be possible according to what we learn at the end of the story when the mysterious voice talks to the Traveler.
“History does not change easily, but human hearts can. Believe your own eyes. Only that which you see is true. What is unseen is but an illusion.”
Irminsul can change what people believe, meaning knowledge and wisdom, not real objects, occurrences and consequences  - is what I suspect. Regardless, the voice also says:
“Unfortunately, the fate of Teyvat cannot easily be changed. Perhaps a god may have a slim chance, but for anyone else... who can say. When a small animal runs into a tree trunk, though the tree may sway, it is not displaced. The same is true of fate. Like a vase that falls to the ground. Whether it is broken by a cat or by a bird, the result is still a broken vase, is it not?”
The statement is true to what happened when Scaramouche tried to rescue his friends so that they would survive Il Dottore’s attack. They died either way, despite the Kabukimono “not being there”.
The Doctor’s power remains unclear.
He himself admits while negotiating with Nahida:
“A long time ago, I made a major decision in hopes of preserving all my perspectives of how I observed the world. Observation is the first step of any experiment, but observing the current world doesn't satisfy me. It lacks an important dimension — that of time. So I saved "segments" of all my ages, and made them into independent individuals… [...] What you request of me is like plucking out the eyes I have placed in the dimension of time. [...] Besides, with my abilities, it's only a matter of time until I find better "perspectives." Perhaps it's best to say... you're just temporarily ahead.”
The Travel Log specifies:
“As Nahida closes her eyes, many voices enter her consciousness: Some are young, some are old, some are angry, and some are helpless... All of them are the voices of The Doctor's segments, each derived from him at a different age.”
From what I understand, the Doctor has created segments, that each are positioned in a specific point in time to keep an eye on certain events, and with whom he can communicate. Since the Doctor is able to see through time, it would be possible for him to relive the past without the interference of Irminsul, as it merely changes the memories of the people. For the Doctor it would be possible to recount the truth because he would see it with his own eyes. This is what makes his segments all the more dangerous to the fate of Teyvat. However, the Doctor clarifies that he can find other ways to watch time, and the annihilation of his segments just set him back temporarily. With that said, he’s one of a few people who are unaffected by alternation of Irminsul, just like the Descenders. The question is if he can control these segments to even change how some occurrences took place - which would give him the power to literally change the past. With this in mind, there is a possibility that Scaramouche could be able to save his friends. It would give him a reason to pursue the Doctor and to work together with the Traveler. It would be an interesting concept for them to acquire the Doctor’s power to go back in time and to see the real consequence. But for the Doctor to be able to “alter” fate, he must become a God himself. At least, this is what the mysterious voice tells the Traveler. Another possibility is for the Wanderer and the Traveler to encounter the God of Time or an equally powerful entity. However, this is just speculation.
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If you've read all this, thank you so much for your time ♥
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