#this is worded beautifully op
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hiii i heard you wanted some requests 👀 and I'm super glad you're back !! I missed you a lot lot <3
My head has been so full of post-dinner date Gojo ideas. The domesticity of getting unready with him and cuddling in bed right afterward. It's just so simple but so cute. oh oh and doing nighttime skincare with him :( having him sit down and rubbing in the different creams into his skin and the way he would lead into your hands. ahhh he has me so weak (_ _)
Feel free to use any of these ideas to write or take inspo from if you want! Gojo is such a cutie :3
Anyways, have a lovely day, and remember to take care of yourself!!
pairing. gojo satoru × gn!reader
content. bunch of fluff + comfort, reader has smaller hands than gojo (in case that bothers anyone!!) & sits on his lap, sappy reader + gojo!! read slowly for maximum enjoyment <3
sticky-note. nonnie u are so goated for this idea, i think this might be my fav gojo fic so far 😭 I MISSED U MORE!! hope u have a wonderful day and thank u for sending this in 🫶
satoru thinks your hands are pretty.
they’re smaller than his—of course they are. he can’t think of a single person who has bigger hands than him. he enjoys it, though. your touch is stimulating in a way; fingertips completely gentle as you rub the latest lotion that you bought onto his face.
“can’t keep your hands off of me, huh?” he leans back and grins, but you can’t even be annoyed by his teasing. there's a shine in his eyes that you haven’t seen a very long time—and you are more than happy to see it now.
“mhm,” you hum, softly kneading his cheeks like you would with a baby. his blindfold is off and his demeanor seems so relaxed, his face basking into your soothing touch. it’s hard to hold back your own smile. “you just have that type of charming effect, y’know?”
“you’re being awfully nice today,” he remarks suspiciously, peeking an eye open to look closely at you. you pinch his cheek in return. “what’s the occasion baby?”
you roll your eyes, pulling back your hand for a moment to scoop up a bit more lotion. you swipe it lightly onto his forehead. “what? i can’t give you attention? can’t i spoil my boyfriend for once?”
the tips of his ears redden at your words, making you giggle at the rare but pleasant sight. “....i mean, you can, but—”
“shh,” you shush him. he closes his mouth instantly. “no more talking! this is the most important part because i have to smooth out all the wrinkles in your forehead.”
he lets out a big gasp, being playfully offended—narrowing his eyes with an indignant look. the smile you didn't even know you were sporting grows wider at how cute he is. you wouldn't say it that out loud though, of course.
it is so beautifully quiet and peaceful. you can’t think of the last time you spent time with satoru like this: seated on the living room floor of his apartment as you slap your whole skincare routine onto his face. his back is against the couch with his legs sprawled out, but not too sprawled out so you are more than comfortable on his lap. it’s nighttime so the curtains are draped over the window, but you love the warm, dim lighting of his living room. gojo satoru is gorgeous, but is especially pretty in this lighting; with his head comfortably tilted back and eyes closed, but not forcefully or harshly shut as if he’s in pain.
for the longest time, you've been used to seeing satoru in pain. not in a physical way—but in an emotional and mental way that tugs at your heart strings just seeing him in that state. you know the burden that comes with being the strongest: there will always be a significant power divide between you and the people you love, which will never not be difficult for the other party to ignore. it also doesn’t help that he is so happy-go-lucky all the time, despite the jujutsu sorcerer duties that keeps piling rocks onto his shoulders.
but now in this moment, he is all yours. he isn’t the strongest, nor is he Gojo Satoru. he is just yours—just the lover boy who melts into your open arms whenever given the chance. just a boy who had to give up being a boy so he could be a man for others to look up to him. just someone you would want to depend on you, the same way you lovingly depend on him.
“i love you,” you suddenly whisper, in the midst of just simply applying lotion onto his skin. your slow, comforting movements make him want to fall asleep, but your words make him wide awake.
“out of the blue?” his head shoots up, eyes wide and visible despite being behind his messy bangs. he sits up and stares at you, the same glimmer back in his eyes. “i mean, i’m not complaining—”
you interrupt with a huff, “i say it everyday, jerk.” you place your hands on his chest to wipe away any of the lotion moisture left on your palms. he doesn’t bat a single eye. “what do you mean ‘out of the blue’?”
“i know, but...”
your jaw drops a bit. you actually cannot believe your eyes as satoru tilts his head a bit to the side, shyly averting his eyes as you see a tint of scarlet on his cheeks. “it just feels so intimate right now, so...”
good lord. you want to baby him so bad. you want to shrink him and keep him in your pocket and always protect him wherever you go.
“you’re too cute for my well-being,” you breathe, going back on your earlier words. “you know i always mean it when i say i love you, ‘toru.”
“stop,” he whines. he raises an arm to cover his face, eyes still unable to look at yours. “don’t compliment me. i don’t think i’ll be able to handle it right now.”
you can’t help but laugh, squeaking in surprise when satoru pokes at your sides with a little pout. you want to tease him, you think. you might as well with a smile permanently on your face now.
these are the type of moments you crave: moments when satoru tears down his walls and lets himself act like he’s a little boy all over again in front of you. it’s not like he necessarily had walls up with you in the first place, but being a jujutsu sorcerer has always meant protecting and guarding yourself at all times no matter the cost.
but now, you have him. and he has you in his arms, the one that sneak around your waist and warmly wrap around you to keep you close to his chest. it's cuddly but protective, both of your laughs drowning out any other background sounds.
and you are more than willing to protect him yourself.
#no post tmrw bc its my bday 🥳😞 (thoughts on a gojo fic where u celebrate ur bday w him. I NEED HIM SO BA)#he gets u a three tier cake as if its a wedding#and uses icing to draw himself all over it i hate him#gojo x reader#gojo fluff#gojo drabble#A GR HHHHHH#I CAT#XANT#I CANT ANYMORE#S2 BROEJFJJA#the manga prepared me but s2 gojo has me in a chokehold#i neednsomeone to slap me out of this gojo kissery
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Hello! Could I request a sub!mizu/bottom!mizu x softdomGN!reader that features a nipple play smut scene with a lot of moaning please? Mizu's titties deserves all the love and praise and pleasure!!!!!! Thank you❤️
Note: Ahhh OP this should NOT have taken as long as it did. It was originally to be a modern au, frankly rather vanilla and sweet— but my interests have been seized by shibari as of late. And, guess what I’ve found? The art of “shibrai”( or Kinbaku) in Japan first originated in the Edo period. The art made itself!
So, do take this as a tribute to Mizu’s titties and also the lovely art of shibari. If it’s not to your liking, I can always write that modern version!
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Speak, Fetch, and…
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Tags: Bottom!Mizu, Submissive!Mizu, Dominant!Reader, Top!Reader, Shibari, Edging (if you squint), Light Degradation, GN! Reader, Bondage, Gag Uses, Breast/Nipple Play
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A/N: Made [Reader] A rich and powerful Shibari enthusiast in this to apply settings and dynamics. Hopefully it adds a layer of kinkiness to this piece! My inbox is always welcoming requests, so feel free to drop some! Regardless, Please enjoy! ^^ <3
“You look so perfect like this.”
The words spill past your lips flowing with the adoration only heard in the prayers of the most devout monks. Mizu, the demon samurai, elusive, raging, and entirely inaccessible to all but you. There she was, the most feared bastard in all of Japan, laying on your bed, bound and panting, drooling with a gag in her mouth as a whore would in any decent brothel. Crimson red, thick and bruising knots were intricately designed to fit snugly around her body, expertly marked by your hands— deft with skill, in loving patterns tracing up and down pale skin. The body that could move like a monster, the body that has taken so many lives and maimed thousands— subdued and helpless, entirely at your mercy.
You see her cheeks redden with embarrassment at the compliment, you see her entire body shudder as goose pimples spike across her scarred skin, you see the glistening quality to her cunt that has your knees buckling with the insatiable desire to run your mouth against her core.
But all things in due time.
No, in the heart of your gaze were the two pert, round, soft mounds of skin that made up the two halves of her buxom, rising and falling as her chest heaved with pleasure. Moving in hypnotic, wave-like movements in sync with her breaths were the two lovely buds that bloomed at the tops of her petite breasts, the color of soft petals, of womanly skin. Your ropes only accentuated the shape of her body, the emphasis on her maidenhood.
“Are you feeling alright, dearest?” You croon, running your fingers along the tight patterns across her body, teasingly tugging at a select few strands that ran the texture of your ropes against her skin in a delicious friction, so much so that her head flew against your mattress as her toes curled and shook with ecstasy. Oh, and to think that this samurai had yet to be defeated in battle. What would his foes think, seeing him as a woman, crying out for pleasure as her voice cracked beneath a gag, face flushed and eyes brimming with tears. You’d barely even touched her.
“I could keep you like this forever, you know…” you begin to contemplate aloud, finally deciding to crawl towards your truest possession on your hands and knees, your warm body hovering over hers as you continued to tease at her desires and fantasies with a malicious tongue.
“You’d fit in beautifully with every display in my palace, every work of art. I could invite the most revered men and women of the nation, I’d let them see you..” Mizu moans at this, writhing with the desire to hide but unable to move. Shy. Finally, your face is aligned with the samurai’s chest. Unable to hold yourself any longer, your mouth falls against the plush skin, hungrily wrapping your wet lips around the hardened bud with a carnal desire, eagerly running the warm, slick muscle of your tongue against the buds of her roses while her entire body contorted with pleasure.
Mmmmph! , she’d say something, anything at all— but your infatuation was unending. With your opposite hand, you grope and massage the delicate, long-abused tissue, milking out the sweetest, most unheard of noises from her pretty mouth. And to think that the display beneath your face would have been mistreated and hidden away all these years behind rough, ugly binds.
You pull away from her breast with a ludicrous pop noise that communicated only filth before you moved your mouth directly over the other half, unleashing the same cruelty of your mouth. The first little bud, now swollen and wet with spit, was pinched in between your thumb and forefinger, the suddenness and crassness of the action making Mizu grunt and buck her hips with want. As a punishment, reward, and reminder, you gently bite down on her breast until she draws in a sharp, stuttering hiss. You groan against the firm, supple skin of her breast before you pull away to take in the sight you created, the ropes binding around and in between her breasts, accentuating their shape— the swollen, reddened bud of her nipples, slick and shining with spit, all because of you.
Your eyes finally move from her chest to her face, soaking in that flushed, almost embarrassed expression she held in her usual sharp features.
“You want it off, fighter?” You ask teasingly before you quickly move to dispose of the gag in her mouth. She’s earned it, after all, being so good beneath you.
By the time it leaves her mouth, the cloth is wet and heavy with drool and Mizu is gasping for air, chest shuddering as she desperately forces her body to catch up with the racing thoughts in her mind. It’s even better like this, you think, seeing Mizu grit her teeth, bite her lips, and grunt in all attempts to keep her dignity and not moan like the whore you knew she was. These thoughts enrich your psyche like opium, and your hands absently find their way to each breast as you straddle her hips. You are comfortable like this, and Mizu is entirely at your mercy.
“Can you imagine your enemies seeing you like this?” You ask lightly, your hands trailing down from her breasts to the smooth dip in her waist, subtle and firm. “The damned, all powerful, blue-eyed half-breed; moaning in my chambers in my palace...”
“(N-Name…)” she tries to grunt, though it escapes her lips as a whimper. She’s embarrassed, humiliated— in any other context you would have backed away and apologized— but you felt her pussy against your skin, you felt the positively soaking quality of her privates against your sheets. She loved this.
“Don’t pretend you don’t like it,” you say knowingly, making those dazzling blue eyes flutter and turn away from you in shame. This calms her, in a way. Words now seem on the verge of leaving her mouth, though shyness, or perhaps embarrassment bids her silent.
“What do you need, dearest? Go ahead, don’t be scared.” You say, encouraging, one hand now abandoning the possessive hold around her waist to gently cradle her cheek. Unable to keep herself from doing so, she leans into the touch, relaxing.
“Water…” she rasps, and your thumb gently runs along her upper cheek.
Easily, you reach over for a chalice filled to the brim with water, gently ushering her head higher before bringing the rim to her lips as you watched her lips drink up the water.
“Just like that, good job…” you hum, making her relax and sigh beneath you. Finally, she’s had enough, almost having drank the cup empty before you put it aside, now facing her seriously.
“If it ever comes to be too much, use the signal. Understand?” You ask as you adjust Mizu’s legs to sit around either side of your hips, bringing yourself closer until your nakedness was flush with her own. She nods affirmative like the good pet she was, going as far as to spread her legs further to grant you better access, an action that made something molten and possessive coil in your chest and gut. No one else in the world would ever see Mizu like this, pliant, shy, and oh so pretty. The sight of those eyes submissive and watery, those cheeks flushed red and those lips bitten to Hell and back were yours and yours alone.
Your hands move down south before you could stop them, swift and eager as one hand pinned Mizu’s left thigh open and against the cushion while your dominant hand pushed two fingers into her gushing warmth, making her grunt and squirm against her bonds. You laugh something genuine as you feel the sheer quality of her arousal on your hands, pulling away just to show her the arousal that has already coating your palm.
“Look at yourself,” you say, eyes blown and voice rushing with warmth. Before Mizu could fix her lips to say anything, you bring your soaked fingers up to your mouth and place them over your tongue, making Mizu gasp in shock at your actions. Mizu’s wetness floods your tastebuds, makes you groan into your hand before you eagerly continue your efforts of working her open and relaxed. To be used, to be worshiped, to be claimed. You shudder at the thought, easily thrusting your fingers in and out of her while she gasps and moans your name like a prayer. A chant, a hymn. [Name! Name! Name!] for all of Japan to hear in answer to the question of who she belonged to.
“K-keep going! Don’t stop! Don’t…s-stop…!” she whined, almost demanding as her cries rise from the depths of her belly in guttural moans— as if she were in battle. Your fingers slow down, caressing her insides in slow, deliberate, cruel swipes of fingers while your thumb circled her clit.
“Is that anyway to ask for anything?” You scold, pushing your thumb against that swollen little bundle of nerves until she hissed and arches her back, leaving her body in a beautiful display of rope, power, and pleasure.
“[N-Name,] please— don’t stop…” she gasps, twitching as her orgasm inches closer and closer the longer you deny her the friction of your touch against her sweet snatch. You only stare expectantly at the near puppy-like gaze she shoots at you, and you begin to understand why people call her a dog. Good dogs listen, good dogs obey. Good dogs get their rewards.
“Beg.” You say, and she sees that your eyes are swarming with a raging storm of lust with her at sail in the dead center. Your hands only slow down to a near stop, and she could’ve sobbed at the loss. She was losing her mind, on the verge of fainting. Despite this, her hands were free, the signal in a moments reach. If she needed to stop, all she had to do was snap her finger and you’d cut her loose, rope be damned. But her hands only shook with desperation as she opened her trembling lips, voice cracking.
“Please, please…please,” she begged, voice breaking as she emphasized the final syllable, to which you easily obliged, attacking her cunt with a ferocity only shown in battle that made her cry out in shock and pleasure. It was an exquisite sight to behold, one that would forever be ingrained in your memory. Here in your bed by your hands, the strongest and bravest swordsman in all of Japan lay moaning like a whore as her orgasm washed over her body and loins in a wave of fire. Yes, she had her blade, her strength, those eyes—But you had your ropes, your tongue, and your wit.
So far, you remain completely undefeated.
#blue eye samurai#bes mizu#mizu#bes#mizu x reader#mizu x y/n#mizu x you#blue eye samurai fanfic#mizu fanfic
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I have been thinking about toxic dynamics with yan!König and I think that apathetic or unbothered reader is fun. It's based on the attachment theory and one of the dynamic include the anxious chaser and the apathetic avoidant who's being chased. KorTac operator!darling for the sake of another toxic cat and mouse game!
Hmmm maybe you're the first one to bond with him before Horangi, and you're doing it to satisfy your curiosity. You entertain the colonel, and you guys have a friendly relationship but to you, he's just another normal face in this life of yours. He's nice, but you feel zero spark nor passion in this friendship of yours. To König? You're his everything.
I think the yandere tendencies start to appear when he realizes that he's not a priority to you. Simply another face in the crowd although you never mistreated him. And since the reader is a problem too, reader doesn't see the value of investing time in the colonel, rather uses her time to invest on herself because poor colonel isn't a priority. Besides, he has Horangi and needs to learn the art of socializing.
Basically König overthinking everywhere and anywhere while reader's in her room doing her hobbies/taking care of herself, uncaring about the colonel.
You get bored easily, and need something to keep you grounded, keep you attached less you stumble into something people wouldn’t want you to with carelessly blunt words and an apathetic mind. Some have called you a psychopath, able to live a normal life, actively seeking gratification and fulfilling your ambitions despite the danger it brings; despite the pain it causes others; despite the lies and deception you use to achieve them.
Military was one of them. Some had normal, boring faces, whose minds were built like an intricately designed maze filled with possibilities and interesting things that made it worth pursuing, and others had beautifully scarred faces and unique traits, but were as boring as a wallflower, mundane and unchanging, normal and sane. All too boring for a curious mind like yours.
Then you met König, a giant with his face hidden - unknown - and fleeting moods that went from commandingly dominating and anxiously jumpy. You found him interesting, a nagging curiosity urging you to dig and unravel whatever curiosities he hid in that mind of his. He was an object of fascination to you, something you decided to invest your time into discovering, with lies and truths, promises and deceits, everything was a possibility as long as it served your goal.
The Colonel was a source of entertainment and power, but to him - as apathetic and cold as you were - you were a friend. Your little manipulation and charming words wormed it’s way into his mind the same way they did in your Ops, wielding a serpent’s silver tongue and the devil’s charm, you were something that he both admired and hated. It didn’t help that you acted the same around him, unbothered and unafraid —it made him feel normal.
So it’s not much of a surprised that he became obsessed with you, unwilling to part ways with you if he could, wanting to know you, your likes, your dislikes, your hobbies and your passions; and as long as he kept your interest going, this wouldn’t be the last of you he’d be seeing.
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just like heaven
~just like heaven by The Lumineers~
Author's Note: just a cute little blurb tehe
Summary: family skate with the Avs
Warnings: none
Word Count: 540
Cale Makar x fm!reader
It was a beautiful day in Denver as the Avalanche were doing a team bonding event. They were in the downtown square of Denver where there was an outside rink. The players were all doing a family skate with the people they cared about most.
Cale leaned down, glancing up towards Y/N as he began tying her skates. The skates she’s owned for two years but have never used. She was terrified of ice skating despite being in a relationship with one of the best players in the NHL.
“How do they feel?” he asked, lifting his gaze to meet her eye, his cheeks pink as he smirked towards her.
“Fine, I guess,” she let out as she took in a deep breath. He stood up and sat beside her on the bench, bumping his thigh against hers.
“It’ll be fun,” he whispered against her ear, tilting her head away to meet his gaze. “I’ll hold onto you the entire time,” he mumbled. She rolled her eyes playfully.
“Promise?” she asked barely above a whisper. He nodded as he bit his bottom lip excitedly.
“Come on, Beautiful,” he mumbled as he took a hold of her hands dragging her towards the ice where all the other players were skating already. She hesitated as she stepped onto the ice. He smiled widely as he began skating backwards as he guided her. “I can’t believe you’ve never skated before,” he shook his head as he gripped her hands tightly as he skated backwards manuvering between his teammates.
“Cale, slow down!” she let out while laughing, he chuckled as he started to slow down. “Because who volunteers to put knives on their shoes and walk on ice!” she let expression as she slipped.
Cale quickly pulled her towards him, resting his hands on her hips to have more control on her movements. “Because it’s fun,” he raised his eyebrows as he smiled widely.
There was soft music playing through the speakers as there were cameras to show the event. It was beautifully lit up, it may have been a media op but the players were fully in their own worlds. The players that have children were enjoying chasing their little ones around the ice.
He pulled her towards him as her eyes widened, he chuckled as he leaned towards her and whispered, “You’re enjoying this,” he mumbled as he leaned away looking deeply into her eyes. She tilted her head to the side as he kept his hands on her hips. “At least a little bit,” he squinted his eyes as he pressed his lips together.
“A little bit,” she teased.
“Good,” he mumbled as he leaned towards her, kissing her cheek before he started skating backwards faster. He’d glance behind him every so often making sure he wouldn’t bump into anyone.
“Cale, I swear to god,” she squealed as she rested her hands onto his arms. He was laughing.
“You might wanna slow down Caler, don’t want to repeat of All-Stars,” Gabe chirped as he was chasing after his young toddler.
“Ha-ha,” he shouted back as he looked back into Y/N’s eyes, “I won’t let you fall,” he mumbled as he scanned her features. She nodded as she smiled softly.
#cale makar#cale makar imagines#cale makar x reader#nhl imagines#nhl#nhl x reader#nhl fic#hockey#colorado avalanche#colorado avalanche imagines
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Too Good to Be
A/N: First full-length RWRB fic! There’s some spice, but not too much spice to rate it anything but T for Teen. Also, this is going to be a three parter because I just couldn’t stop and it was nearing 10k. So here’s part 1! Super nervous, super excited, super gonna shut up now. Enjoy!
It's finally summer, Alex’s favorite time of the year. Summer means the cabin, no graduate courses, and, most importantly, Henry. His Royal Highness was able to get a full two weeks straight of no engagements. Alex very politely told his scheduler to fuck off when approached with anything that resembled an engagement during those two weeks. Alex isn’t going to allow anything (or anyone) to come between himself and Henry.
Well, except for Cash, Nora, June, and his father apparently.
Alex isn’t too upset about his family being around, they all adore Henry and vice versa. The Secret Service is always around, and, honestly, Alex is used to it by now. Plus, Cash doesn't suck.
They're all at the cabin by the lake, and everyone is in bathing suits while lounging on the deck after a long afternoon of boating and jet skiing. Henry is watching videos with June and Nora off Nora's phone and laughing, eyes crinkling adorably. Alex can't help but smile. Last year, Alex wasn't sure he would ever even see Henry again, let alone be at the cabin with him. So much has changed since then. Alex is Henry's official suitor. England has embraced the two of them wholeheartedly, including Henry's older brother. The Queen…well, she still sucks. But everything is practically perfect.
"Alex!" June calls, waving her hand for her brother to come to her.
He stands and walks over to the others, still smiling softly. Henry lets out an adorable laugh at the video, and Alex sees it’s a cat compilation video.
“I left my very comfortable chair to watch cats?” Alex asks, amusement in his voice despite his words.
“I-I’m sohorry, it’s just so f-funny.” Henry gets out through his giggles. Nora and June are cackling beside him.
Alex watches as cat after cat jumps in fright after seeing their owners with creepy realistic cat masks on.
“Y’all are too easily entertained.”
June snorts. “You spent all day yesterday giggling at British memes.”
“Oi!” Henry feigns offense.
“In my defense,” Alex says. “I loved every single one of them.”
Henry rolls his eyes, but there’s no malice. “I suppose I’ll be receiving a few in the future.”
“You’ll have one every day for a month, baby.” Alex winks.
Henry blushes beautifully.
“Alexander.” Henry admonishes, rolling his eyes.
Alex simply grins widely.
June reaches over and tweaks Alex’s ribs, causing Alex to squawk and jump.
“Bug!” Alex swats at her hands.
“Leave Henry alone, brat.” June chastises, a mischievous grin on her face. Henry smiles smugly, clearly pleased that June was on his side.
Alex scowls at all of them, including Nora because she’s not helping.
“Don’t scowl, baby brother. You’re too pretty.”
That mollifies Alex somewhat. “I am pretty.”
Henry rolls his eyes.
They spend the entire afternoon outside, drinking beer and wine, watching ridiculous videos, and talking of summer plans. Alex is happier than he’s been in a very long time. Supper has been eaten, s’mores have been consumed, and a movie is currently playing in Alex and Henry’s room. Alex isn’t paying any attention to it because Henry is currently kissing his way down his throat.
“You’re seriously good at this, has anyone told you that?” Alex asks, stretching his head to the left to allow Henry more access.
“You have.”
“Well, I’m always right, so.” Alex lets out a groan as Henry adds a bit of teeth.
Alex thinks he’ll never tire of this. Not just the awesome sex (and it was awesome), but just having Henry with him…and not having to hide it. Alex absolutely adores holding Henry’s hand while they go shopping. Alex loves that Henry will kiss his cheek during photo ops. Alex enjoys being able to embrace Henry openly. Alex still sneaks very handsy things at very inopportune times for Henry, relishing in the blush it brings to the prince’s cheeks.
Henry slides his hands very slowly up Alex’s sides, causing him to squirm. He feels Henry smile against his throat.
“Don’t think I didn’t see your reaction earlier.”
Alex tenses.
“I d-don’t know what you’re t-talking about…” Alex trails off.
“I think we both know that’s not true,” says Henry. This time, his fingers wiggle on their way down Alex’s ribs.
“Ah!”
Henry chuckles against Alex’s throat as he continues to spider his fingers along Alex’s ribs.
“You f-fuhucker!” Alex squirms and laughs, reaching for Henry’s hands. Henry avoids them for a few seconds more before Alex finally catches them. Alex is panting slightly, but he narrows his eyes, wraps his legs around Henry’s waist, and flips the two of them onto the floor. Henry lands on his back with an ‘oof’. Big blue eyes look in shock at Alex.
“Mistake.” Alex growls.
“N-Now, sweetheart…let’s not do anything hasty.”
“Nicknames will get you nowhere, baby.” Alex replies.
Henry blushes and opens his mouth to barter, but Alex is having none of it. Alex turns around so his back is to Henry and goes straight for Henry’s thighs, easily his most ticklish spot.
“Alehex!” Henry immediately starts laughing. Alex found out about Henry’s ticklishness pretty early on during the ‘friends-with-benefits’ stage of their relationship. Alex and Henry had been lying in bed after a thorough makeout session, still clad only in boxers, and Henry giggled when Alex had lightly traced nonsensical patterns across Henry’s stomach. Alex proceeded to find every ticklish spot on Henry’s body, which…hadn’t been difficult. Henry turned out to be ticklish everywhere, but especially on his thighs and hips.
“How you’re able to fool around with thighs this ticklish, is kind of amazing.” Alex comments as he rakes his fingers up and down Henry’s quivering thighs.
“Plehehease!” Henry begs, alternating between pounding on Alex’s back and probably grabbing at his hair if Alex knows him well enough.
“I do not intend to stop anytime soon,” says Alex. “First, you must be punished for trying to tickle me. And second, you love it when I tickle you.”
“I’m sohohorry!”
“I’m sure you are.” Alex turns to face Henry now, wiggling lower onto Henry’s legs.
Henry doesn’t say anything else but instead lets out loud booming laughter as Alex moves to clamp down on both thighs right underneath where they meet Henry’s hips, squeezing mercilessly. Henry is devastatingly ticklish here, and Alex absolutely exploits this. The crease where thighs meet hips is just as ticklish. Alex plans on spending time there as well.
“Oh baby, you are too adorable.”
“Shut uhuhup!” Henry tries to command, batting at Alex’s hands.
“Usually your royal commands are a big turn on,” Alex tells him casually, as if he isn’t straight up torturing his boyfriend. “But this one just doesn’t have the usual oomph.”
Henry babbles something about ‘dick head’ and ‘fucking fuck.’ Alex can’t help but laugh as he listens to Henry’s own beautiful laughter.
“You are the most ticklish person on the planet, I swear. It’s kinda good that England isn’t actively trying to conquer the world anymore. You’d be kidnapped for ransom and tortured into oblivion the moment the enemy found out how ticklish you are.”
“A-Alex!” Henry pleads. Alex knows Henry gets more sensitive the more Alex teases him with words.
“I know that’s how royals were punished back in the medieval period,” Alex continues. “They’d tie up princes and princess, and fucking tickle the shit out of them. Sometimes, guards were told to put honey on the feet of royals and have goats lick them off.”
“Shut the fuhuhuck uhup!” Henry whines through his laughter. Henry has caught Alex’s hands, but all the prince does is hold onto his boyfriend's wrists. Alex is now lightly stroking at Henry’s hips, scrabbling his fingers along the hip bones every other downward stroke.
“Maybe we could get the queen to start that shit up again! She’s still super pissed you’re gay; I’m sure she’d loooooove to have someone punish you.”
Henry turns redder if that’s even possible. Alex knows that Henry’s thinking about it, though. Henry’s thinking about being tied up and helpless while being tickled.
“Do you like that thought, baby?” Alex asks.
Henry shakes his head, but doesn’t say anything. Alex reaches behind himself and strokes at Henry’s thighs again. He loves the feeling of the twitching muscles, firm from years of Polo. Henry kicks out his legs as Alex switches back to scrabbling his fingers all over Henry’s pelvis and hips.
“They’d call me Katniss because I would volunteer as tribute to be your tickle torturer.”
“Y-You alreheheady ARE!” Henry shouts as Alex digs his thumbs into each of Henry’s hip divots.
“Yeah, but it’d be an official title!” Alex crows. “First Son of the United States slash His Royal Horniness’ Official Tickle Monster!”
“You’re incorrhorrigible!”
“I’d never go easy on you either. It’s hips and thighs immediately, right out the gate,” explains Alex. “I’d move on to your ribs next, then your back. That spot near your kidneys? Yeah, you forget that spot a lot, but I don’t.”
“Alex, please!”
Alex ignores the please and runs his fingers up Henry’s ribs. Henry lets out a high-pitched squeal, causing Alex to laugh loudly himself .
“Now that was an adorable sound. Can you do it again?”
“Why dohoho you n-never stohop tahahalking?!” Henry is starting to really lose it. Alex has been tickling him nonstop for close to ten minutes now. Henry’s face, chest, and legs are red, from blushing and the devastating effects of Alex’s fingers.
“Everyone loves to hear me talk.”
“I swehehear, I will get you bahahack!” Henry promises, giggling. Alex has slowed his fingers to nonsensical patterns on Henry’s stomach, allowing the prince to breathe.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” Alex winks at him.
Henry shoves at Alex’s shoulder. Alex falls dramatically, but not before scrabbling his fingers across Henry’s thighs once more.
“Stahap!” Henry rolls in on himself.
Alex laughs as he stands up, offering a hand to Henry.
“Piss off.” Henry tells him, swatting his hand away and standing on his own.
“Don’t be mad, baby.”
Henry blushes again.
“Every time.” Alex grins.
“Fuck you.” Henry retorts, a silly grin still on his face.
“Any time, Your Royal Highness.”
#tickle fic#tickling fic#alex claremont diaz#henry mountchristen windsor#ticklish!alex#ticklish!henry#red white and royal blue#rwrb fic#rwrb#kourtni writes things
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Oh when you used to sing it to sleep
@jinkieswouldyoulookatthis and @blue-chimera - thank you both for your kind and thoughtful replies to my reblog of this post. The og post is getting quite long and also I don't want to put too much writing effort into a reblog that's susceptible to disappearance, so I'm continuing here instead.
I agree with you both that Dean's parentification and Sam's continued acceptance of vs rebellion against it as an adult are an important part of their dynamic. Dean's dying words in the finale attest to this beautifully (as well as many other things throughout the course of the show); I love you so much, my baby brother. To a certain extent Sam is Dean's baby and always will be.
I think though to a large extent, the framing by both Sam and Dean of Dean as Sam's parentified elder sibling is a mutually employed, mostly cooperative sanitization of the central and most damaging aspect of the roles they internalized through their upbringing: Sam is a monster and Dean is the tool to "take care of" it (double reading of "take care of" 100% intentional on my part). Because of this, while readings of spn through the lens of Dean's parentification are definitely valid, I do think they sometimes risk distorting or leaving out important aspects of the characters' personalities, motivations, and relationship.
Jinkies, in my fruitless quest to process without reblogging a take I knew the OP wouldn't appreciate, I had listened to the interview before posting, and I think while Jensen is being flip, he's also getting at what he sees as a truth in the brothers' relationship. I think he's right from a Doylist/co-creator/actor's perspective--Sam is the protagonist who we see through Dean, the deuteragonist's, eyes. Dean, as a piece of the narrative artifact, Supernatural, is there to save Sammy in a way that Sam (up to that point anyway) is not a piece of the narrative artifact whose purpose is to save Dean. From a Watsonian/in-universe perspective though, I think he's mistaken, and that his mistake is the reason his take sounds uncharitable, even aside from the flippant part.
It's just not a very convincing analysis imo to frame a character who spends the first few seasons rejecting immoral power, the next few in an arc that ends with him willingly subjected himself to eternal torture for the good of the world, and the one after that intending to sacrifice himself dramatically to rid the world of one particular species of monster but doesn't because Dean asks him not to, as self-absorbed or not particularly concerned with his effect on others, including on his brother. Likewise, Dean holds up well as a parentified older sibling with no sense of internal self and abysmal self-esteem in some ways, but in others not so much. He does have interests and priorities and a sense of purpose outside Sam. They're all over spn every day, much more so in fact than Sam's are. They're just not enough to override his Sam prioritization.
The main place I think this analysis fails on Dean's side though is that he, as an adult, is just not a very good parent. Obviously as a child he couldn't be expected to be a good parent (or a parent at all) and as an adult he's already damaged and so it's understandable that if big brother-ing Sam is how he chooses to spend the rest of his life, he may still not be equipped to do it. But he fails on such a fundamental, obvious level at the the most basic aspects of parenting--providing safety, unconditional love, and preparing your child to go out into the world as an independent adult--in ways that once he's a grown up are absolutely within his power to at least attempt (for example: if he wants Sam to be safer, it would ultimately have failed because of Fate, but the logical thing to do first would be not hunt. Dean could've followed Sam to Palo Alto. He could've told him to go to Harvard Law if he can't tolerate Stanford after Jess dies. Could've refused to support him throwing his life away of a mission of revenge. Bought him his own car, encouraged him to have his own tastes. Told him convincingly that trusting Ruby was a bad decision but Lucifer is still not his fault).
None of that is meant to be insulting to Dean though, because I don't think that parenting Sam is Dean's real job--even from Dean's perspective--and I don't think his real job is palatable enough that it would be better for either of them if he admitted what it is head on. What his and Sam's real jobs both are imo is being a container for Sam. On Dean's side, this means holding Sam in his arms with love or if that's not enough, holding him in the panic room, which, from this perspective, is also an act of love. Substituting his judgement for Sam's is an act of love. Not encouraging Sam to hold his own interests first or to grow towards independence are acts of love. Given the nature of (what I believe to be) Dean's actual job, they are effective and competent acts of love undertaken under impossible circumstances, even if the results are sometimes pretty horrific. Because they're still better than the alternative.
Likewise on Sam's side, doing his job well means being a model monster--go to an Ivy, exercise, eat healthy, cultivate empathy, don't have desires of your own, hold yourself to an impossible standard, suppress your anger, kill other monsters when they get out of line. And in the moments he can't manage all that--because who can?-- submit to Dean. When he does those things, he's succeeding at his job, and while it would be nice if "let your brother hit you" or "jump in the Cage with Lucifer" wasn't his job, in the world of spn, it is. He is right to be contained by Dean and wrong to have opinions or priorities of his own unless Dean approves them first.
I do think this sometimes ends up looking like Sam has better self-regard, because Dean's job is to "take care of" Sam, and Sam's job is also to "take care of" Sam. But actually they both have absolutely abysmal shit self-esteem. "I should submit to eternal torture because it's my fault someone else is going to do terrible things he could choose not to do if he wanted" is not the thinking of a person with healthy self-regard. The reason neither of them could fill a thimble with their self-esteem or healthy boundaries imo is because neither "monster" nor "blunt instrument" is a person. Neither of these roles is better or more healthy than the other. Fundamentally, if you don't see yourself first and foremost as a human person, then your life is going to suck horribly. And neither of them see themselves that way.
#spn meta#sam winchester#dean winchester#my meta#discourse in the linked post#long post#i am ofc like all of us to some extent projecting#some of you have been fortunate enough to not have had a monster to fail at 'parenting' and it shows
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fanfiction
i’d like to talk about fanfiction real quick because there are some issues really frequently that can make or break a story. and they’re avoidable!! and it makes me so sad when i’m trying to read a good fanfic and there’s so many errors that i have to stop.
NAMES
so this is one i see surprisingly often… please make sure you know how to spell a character’s name when writing a fanfiction. it’s usually something small like damian vs. damien or lucas vs. lukas but to me it’s so distracting and disappointing when there’s a beautifully written story with a character’s name spelled wrong.
SPELLING
this is a big one, too. when writing, some people don’t always have a spell check or an editor built in to their platform. if that’s you, please triple check your work! and here are a few frequent ones i see-
-shook vs. shock
i shook his hand
i was in shock that she did such a horrible thing
-peaked vs. piqued
-he looked like he peaked in high school
-they piqued my interest
blonde vs blond
-she had blonde hair
-he had blond hair
blonde is a gendered word. i’m not actually sure how it’s used with nonbinary people, let me know!
their, there, and they’re
-it was theirs
-she’s over there
-they were scared, and now they’re not
remember that they’re is a contraction of they are!
quite vs. quiet
she tried to be quiet, not making any noise.
they were quite bored with this whole event.
(thank you to @nathaaaan for the suggestion)
SERIES VS. SERIE
i watched a really good series yesterday
serie isn’t actually a word…
BILINGUAL CHARACTERS
please, please, please do some research if you write a character who speaks another language. even if it’s reading other fanfictions to figure out how your character’s language fits in with the language you’re writing with.
-having a character to say that it’s ’hard to switch back’ is… unrealistic at best. i wouldn’t recommend using it.
-please gender the words correctly! in most of the romance languages, words are gendered. make sure to add that in!
REPETITION
unless you’re going for a gimmick, i’d be careful with repetition. having a character say something more than once, especially in the same sentence, can be annoying and makes the dialogue sound forced.
especially the word antics…. i literally had to put a fic down because ‘antics’ was in every other sentence.
ex: “Lily sighed, annoyed. She was so annoyed!”
(yes this is a real actual example with the character name changed. don’t let this be you.)
FORMATTING
i think this can be overlooked a lot but format is important!!!
-paragraph breaks!! seeing a huge chunk of words with absolutely no breaks is overwhelming. add some space!
-“the punctuation goes inside the quotations.” he said
-i know i’m being a bit of a hypocrite, but capitalization! names, beginning of sentences, and places!! if you don’t capitalize, at least be consistent with it!
“This is how fanfiction, or really any writing, should be formatted.” Eli said with a smile
“And every new sentence should be a paragraph break,” interjected Alex, “Unless you’re going for a certain style. In which case, you do you.”
Eli sighed. “That’s true, Alex. What OP didn’t know was that tumblr has a formatting issue, so that when she posts this, the paragraph breaks won’t show! She hopes she fixed it. But it might not work!”
“We can always imagine the bullet points as paragraph breaks.”
-friendly neighborhood reminder that paragraph breaks happen when introducing a new idea as well!
-bolds and italics are important.
“I told him not to go,” acceptable, a bit dry.
“I told him not to go,” exquisite, flavorful.
and as always. please make sure they’re talking like people. not disney sitcom characters.
PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE TENSE
you would not believe how much i see this messed up. and it’s easy to get wrong. remember, you can always look something up if you aren’t sure. but stay consistent with your tenses!
past tense
She walked up to the drab, grey building, trembling. As she pulled the door open, a bell rang, signaling her arrival.
this one’s probably the most used. notice that it’s almost like we’re retelling the story, after it’s already happened (hence past tense)
present tense
She walks up to the drab, grey building, trembling. She pulls the door open, and a bell rings to signal her arrival.
we have to change quite a few words for the same sentence to make sense in present tense.
future tense
She’ll walk up to the drab, grey building, trembling. She’ll pull the door open, and a bell will ring to signal her arrival.
i honestly don’t think i’ve ever seen future tense used in a novel unless it’s used in dialogue. but it’s almost as if you’re speaking hypothetically about an event.
but please make sure you’re consistent with these! don’t use one and then switch to another!!
now of COURSE writing is a form of creation, and you can ultimately do whatever you want! if you want to write something, write it. this is just a little guide for some of the mistakes i see most often!
but all in all just double check your writing, always!!! there are so many good works out there that could be great.,… if you don’t have someone to beta read you can always send it to me or put it in word <3
#writing#creative writing#fanfic#fanficiton#fanfiction writer#ao3 fanfic#archive of our own#ao3#ao3 writer#wattpad#look i’m tagging wattpad to not leave anyone out#but i don’t use wattpad#just to clarify#writers on tumblr#writers and poets#writerscommunity#writeblr#writer stuff#writer on tumblr#writer on ao3#fanfiction tips#fanfic tips#too many tags#long post#writing is hard#but you can do it#pinky promise you can#please let me know if you see any errors#i know i act like i know everything but i’m wrong#so often
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Bloody hands
Trigger warning: Graphic descriptions of pain, wounds and violence.
Note: The way I described it here is how I learned it in my tactical field care course, which is very different from what spec ops learn, so sorry for the inaccuracies. Also, there will be tactical inaccuracies as well, I have no idea what strategies the SAS uses on their missions.
Pairing: Ghost x Soap
Trope: Hurt/comfort, whump, angst
Word count:
It was a simple intel mission, something they’d done dozens of times before. Soap grabbing the intel from an old abandoned warehouse, Ghost in sniping position from a hill near the warehouse.
„Smooth as butter“, Soap thinks as he scouts the warehouse. The few hostiles were quickly eliminated, and he starts searching for the laptop. „How’s going in there, Johnny?“, Ghosts deep voice cracks through comms. „Beautifully, sir“. „Good. As soon as you got the intel, come to my location. Evac will take about half an hour to get here“. Soap rummages through a desk. „Understood“.
After a few minutes of searching, he finally finds the laptop. „Got it, Ghost“, he announces. „Well done, Johnny. Now get your arse over here“ „Yes sir“.
Soap quickly leaves the warehouse, carefully making his way towards the hill about two hundred meters away. „How’s the view from there, lt?“, he jokingly asks. No answer. „Ghost?“, he asks again. Still nothing. He gets a bit worried. „Ghost, you OK over there?“. Silence. He curses and picks up his pace.
As he reaches the foot off the hill, he sees something bloody in the tall grass. He scrambles towards the figure, sighing in relief when he identifies it as not Ghost. But a knife stuck out of the mans neck, it was one of Ghosts. He was in trouble.
As quickly as he could he runs up the hill, searching the ground for Ghost in his ghillie suit. When he finds him, his blood runs cold. Ghost is lying face down on the ground, a puddle of blood pooling around his torso. „Fuck, Ghost!“, Soap curses, quickly kneeling down next to him.
He turns him around and immediately grimaces at the sight. The mask was broken, his eyes closed. Blood pools out a bullet wound in his stomach, dark and slow.
„No no no no“, Soap mumbles, immediately pressing down on the wound, grabbing the med kit from his backpack. „Ghost! Wake up!“, he tries to urge the other man, putting on latex gloves and scissors, cutting away the fabric from his torso. Ghosts eyes flutter open. „Johnny“, he mumbles.
„Hey, hey“, Soap tries to talk to him, keeping him awake somehow. Ghost tries to speak, but his voice strangles into a pained moan when Soap starts packing the wound with quick clot gauze.
He tries to hide it, for Ghosts sake, but Soap panics. Ghost is hurt. That doesn’t happen. Some cuts and bruises, sure, but not like this. He was in pain, and he couldn’t hide it. Soap had never seen Ghost lose his composure, but here he was, hands gripping the fabric of the ghillie suit with white knuckles, small moans and whimpers leaving his lips as Soap tries to keep him from dying.
„It hurts“, Ghost mumbles, writhing under Soaps hands. „I know, I know, I‘m sorry“, Soap tries to comfort him, running his hands over Ghosts body to check for other injuries. The thoughts in his mind are running a hundred miles and hour as his hands press against his muscles, trying to ignore how he feels underneath his fingertips.
He grabs the morphine pen, uncapping it and stabbing it into Ghosts thigh, releasing the pain medication into his blood stream. „It’ll be better soon, I promise“, he tells him. His fingers reach up the the dishevelled mask, slowly pulling it off „I have to take this one off, lt. Gotta make sure you don’t accidentally swallow your tongue, yea?“ Ghost faintly nods, not enough strength in him to speak, a warm, comfortable cocoon starting to envelop him.
The sharp and agonising pain in his side slowly lessens to a dull ache, which is far more manageable. He tries to stay conscious, for Soap, but it is no use. He’s so tired, and no amount of struggling keeps him from slipping into a comforting darkness.
Soap in the mean time attempts to stop the shaking in his hands. He’s a sniper, a demolitions expert in the SAS, for fucks sake. He can keep his cool in the most stressful situations, but right now, he’s scared. Scared that it won’t be enough, that Ghost will die under his incompetent hands, killed on a stupid mission in a strange country.
Soap takes a look at his watch. Evac should be there in ten minutes. He prays to God he’ll be able to keep Ghost alive in the mean time. He doesn’t know what to do if he can’t. Ghost has passed out. At least he doesn’t have to feel the pain anymore. Soap would do anything to take it for him. With shaky hands he grabs a tube from the kit, intubating Ghost as gently as he can.
There isn’t much else he can do now anymore, only making sure Ghost keeps breathing and his heart keeps beating. He takes a look at the other far less damaging wounds, a fairly deep gash on his thigh and some bruises. With careful hands he cleans the gash from the dirt and dried blood, tightly wrapping a pressure bandage around it.
There isn’t more he can do now. He just has to wait and hope. A shuddering breath escapes him as he leans back on his knees, looking at Ghost. He looks so… Small. It is terrifying. Soap is used to being cared for by Ghost, whether it be being pulled out of the line of fire by the straps of his vest or big hands pressing into his body to stem a flow of blood. But not the other way around. The most he did for Ghost was helping him wrap a bandage around his arm once. But now, the mighty, strong and scary Ghost lies on the ground, hurt and weak.
It wasn’t the first time Soap had seen his face, but definitely the longest. His eyes were closed now, but Soap knew they were beautiful. A deep and rich brown, like the bark of an oak tree in summer. His lips were dry but of a slight pink colour, and way too plump for his own good. Soap wonders what they’d feel like on his, on his skin, on his-
The familiar sound of a chopper coming closer tears him out of his thoughts. He quickly scrambles up, packing the leftover plastic wrappers of the med kit in his bag pack, kneeling next to Ghost with a hand on his chest.
Two soldiers storm out, a stretcher in their hands. Soap helps them to roll Ghost onto it, and he gets quickly carried inside the chopper. A medic awaits them, and Soap hurries to report about Ghosts condition to him.
„Sit back, I‘ll take it from here“, he says and turns to Ghost. Soap lets himself fall heavily onto a bench, his own exhaustion getting stronger. He fights to keep his eyes open and trained on Ghosts unconscious figure, taking his hand in his and squeezing it, hoping he could feel it.
„You’re gon‘ be alright, ok? I‘m here, I won’t leave you alone“
#cod soap#cod#cod simon riley#cod simon ghost riley#ghost x soap#call of duty#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#ghost#soap#ghoap#soapghost#angst#hurt/comfort#whump#whump writing#ghost cod#cod ghost
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i just saw a post on your blog about loving imperfect skin and it immediately made me think of how my mum has really bad acne scars that have made her self-conscious her entire life, and how when i first met one of my past datefriends who had scars just like hers, the first thing i thought upon realising was 'oh, i know that kind of ache. i want to love you like i wish everyone would love her'. so i hope people realise op's post is not just twee wishful thinking. love is stored in the little hurts, sometimes.
been keeping this in my inbox and just....this is everything to me, anon......absolutely, genuinely, beautifully touching BEYOND WORDS. i hope you're blessed w love in your life that is as big and as thoughtfully compassionate as the love you put out 💗💕💖💕💗💖
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😭Ok, can we plz talk about the amount of courage it took for Izzy to go out onto the deck in front of the whole crew in his makeup and SING?! This is the first time that he's ever worn makeup, generally a pretty vulnerable event for anyone, but ESPECIALLY for a man who's had to be strong and take care of everyone else his whole life. In s1, Izzy has a very rigid, clear view of *how* you should be a pirate and, by extension ,*how* you should be a man. He would never have worn makeup or sang a beautifully tender and moving song in front of his crew in s1.😭
💕He showed so much vulnerability and openess it makes me want to cry. I feel like this was a real moment of growth for Izzy, and I'm so happy for my little meow meow. This was a demonstration of *his* trust for the crew. After they gave him his new unicorn leg, he really came to understand *how much* they valued him and loved him. In a way, Izzy is giving the crew a gift in return: his vunerability. Con did a phenomenal job (as always) and his performance was so, so, so gorgeous. Words genuinely cannot describe what a briliant actor i think Con is. Izzy's character arc has been such a joy to watch, and I can't wait to see where it goes next.💕
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Oscar's Undisclosed Birthday
So…m’good friend @jealouscartoonist just shared with me this new cameo from Miles talking about Oscar’s birthday and this squiggly Pinehead is just all smiles now.
Listening to Miles describe with such pure joy an ideal birthday for Oscar was the big kick of serotonin that I didn’t know I needed until I listened to the whole thing. Shoutout to whoever this Sarah person who sent in this cameo is. Thank you for doing the Pinehead community another solid.
This just makes me more salty that Oscar was NEVER EVER added to RWBY Chibi since Miles’ description of “Oscar’s Undisclosed Birthday” is just perfect for as a concept for another wholesome episode of the series that’s Oscar-worthy. Even calling the episode “Oscar’s Undisclosed Birthday” seems perfect as an appropriate title.
Miles made my night with this cameo. It’s everything I wanted for how Oscar would spent his special day (minus actually GIVING US HIS CANON birthday) and I love how Miles dropped more cute tidbits about Oscar as a character too.
Oscar’s favourite breakfast is waffles (and how his big sis Nora would actually make a big pile for him).
Apparently Oscar has trouble sleeping sometimes because of Oz being in his head so Ren gifting him a pair of headphones to drown out the voice of the old headmaster would be useful. Miles basically admitted that Oz is a chatterbox. Makes me think of that “Brain Before Sleep” meme only replace the brain with Oz XD That’s the first thing that popped into my head. Thanks for that imagery Miles.
Oscar loves going to the movies especially Spruce Lee (LOL) films which he shares in common with Jaune and that’s how they bond.
Yang would take Oscar on a fun day at the amusement park where they’d ride all the rides that he’s now tall enough to ride (another LOL from me because they always gotta poke fun that my little prince is a short king)---that would be a thing Yang would do and I cannot picture Oscar turning that down since, in the words of Ruby, Oscar is braver than he thinks and we have seen moments of Oscar being more daring than he looks so he totally would not pass up an opportunity to ride all the rides especially if Yang is the one pushing him to do it.
So the “Girl Who Fell Through the World” is confirmed to be Oscar’s favourite childhood fairytale---and Blake getting him a second edition of it is cute being the book-worm that she is.
I also love the bit with Weiss panicking about not knowing what to get Oscar so she just gives him a lumpsome of money and Oscar being floored by it since he’s never had that amount of money in his life---that fits beautifully.
And of course, gotta love how Miles saved the best gift for last. Ruby gifting Oscar a new co-op videogame that they both end up spending the rest of his birthday playing til they both crash the morning after (Oscar first) is more than a perfect way to conclude Oscar’s birthday in my Rosegarden-shipping books.
*chef’s kiss*
Didn’t even realize that Oscar liked playing videogames. Didn’t know he had them back on the farm. This just makes me think back to his reaction to Ruby’s videogame comment back in V6. Puts the whole moment in a new context for me XD
All in all, Miles made me a happy Pinehead tonight.
~LMS (2023)
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More subby Mizu!! 👏👏
Had this idea for a while - I don’t imagine Mini being the type to go down on his wife, so what about soft!dom reader eating her out for the first time? Just gently talking her through it, taking the time to just make her feel good.
Pussy Eating, a Delicate Art...
A/N: OP you genius you. Not sure if this aligns well enough with your vision, but alas, viola!
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Tags: Pussy Eating, Ambiguously Gendered Reader, Uses of the word c*nt in reference to pussy, Fingering, Dirty Talk if you squint.
Fill my inbox! I have plenty more where this came from.
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“You think I could?”
The idea had been planted in your mind long before you made it known. When exactly, you couldn’t say. Maybe when you and Mizu first showered together and she shied away from spreading her legs. Maybe it was after a long day of work that you watched her come home, silently groaning to herself before she wordlessly nestled into the soft cushions of your bed. However, you could very much pinpoint when this desire evolved into an insatiable, soul-crushing *need.*
Every month, the two of you made it a point to spend time together. Be it inside the house, on a date, movies, park, with friends. You wanted Mizu to know you loved your wife. You crushed every doubt she could have.
The last month, about a week or so ago— the two of you had reserved a ravishing dinner in a wealthier part of town. It was fun to play dress-up with her, to act and look the part just for the night. You expected her to be wearing her usual slacks and blouse when she asked you “What do you think?”, as the answer was so ready to slip past your lips and sing her praises. It was only when you actually turned around and *looked* that you could see she surprised you with a rather short slip-on dress that reached just to the middle of her thighs. Her long, shapely legs were only accentuated by the heels she decided to match that night. You could've dropped the reservation just then and there to take the night entirely for yourself, but it’d be an embarrassing amount of money down the drain. You’d much rather enjoy the sight, let the world see what they couldn’t have. The delight you relished in seeing Mizu’s legs was short-lived, however, as in the middle of dinner, she had asked to borrow your coat and begrudgingly placed it over her lap. Oh, well. As long as she was comfortable.
You’d think back to that night nearly every day that followed. Of course you’d see her nude, that wasn’t the point. The point was that the sweet thing had conspired behind your back and planned to wear a dress to surprise *you*, and you had been rocked to your core. It was impossible not to imagine running your hands up her legs, spreading them apart and pushing her underwear aside. You wanted those thighs wrapped around your neck, you wanted to hear her voice break with want. Soon enough, you offered this— and Mizu only blinked at the ceiling before pinning you with a questioning stare. *Woof.* Her previous husband had only done the minimum, as was obvious by her aversion to anything besides missionary and the standards.
“You don’t have to,” you murmured, toying with her hair as she visibly contemplated the thought. “And even then, we can stop whenever you feel like it. No one will get mad.” No, you couldn’t imagine resenting Mizu for anything. She realized this, it seemed, as she had finally relaxed after a tense moment, nervously looking between you and her lap.
“Do I..?” she began to wonder aloud, awkwardly spreading her knees apart before you huffed out a laugh.
“No, no, you gotta ease into it,” you say, leaning in to close the space between the two of you and languidly pressing your lips against hers. This, she knew, and responded back beautifully. Her lips parted, allowing you access into her mouth before her hands made their way over your face— your heart swells. You break the kiss before you decide to descend onto her neck, though not without a parting peck. Your mouth trails up and down her slender neck, delicately marking up the pale skin of her collarbones until you hear her breath hitch. You pull away to look up at, her hand in yours as your thumb caresses a knuckle.
“All good?” You ask, to which she nods in return.
“I’ll let you know…” she says lowly, pupils blown. You grin at this, relieved she wasn’t forcing herself before you continue. You gently raise the hem of her old tee over her chest, gently cupping one of her breasts in your hands before you take the bud in your mouth. She makes a noise at this, the one you're chasing. You can feel her muscles tense beneath you and take it as a sign to descend further down until your hands slide over her waist, holding it firmly as you begin to pepper innocent kisses everywhere your lips could touch skin. She seems embarrassed at this, averting her gaze while her expression grows into that of feigned boredom and irritation. You knew better. You always did— no way could she be mad now.
“Relax, I’ll get to you soon enough. What if I just want to kiss your tummy the whole night?” You tease, though you eagerly begin to adjust your positions now knowing Mizu’s eagerness to continue.
“Then I would’ve stayed in the dojo.” She responds gruffly. You make a feigned noise and motion of being shot in the chest, to which she only rolls her eyes and shoots you an unimpressed stare, though you smirk in response. You see her lips, her eyes— you know she’s fighting a smile with every muscle in her body.
Slowly, you begin to pull her underwear off her hips, pulling them down past her thighs and over her ankles, allowing her to kick them off herself as you take a place between her thighs. You make a noise in the back of your throat as you’re suddenly face to face with the object of your desires and fantasies for the past few days. Your warm breath fans and tickles over her core, but you can’t be bothered to start yet, too enraptured in the lovely quality about her. What pained you is that she didn’t even *realize* this, didn’t even realize how stunning she was.
“If I wanted to be stared at all night I would’ve—nngh-?!”
Her bratty little retort had been cut short by your tongue suddenly pushing its way past her folds and into the fleshy warmth inside. A strained, awkward noise was heard— though it was not discomfort. Far from it, by the way Mizu’s eyes went impossibly wide, hips jutting forward and greedily chasing the pleasure your mouth provided. One hand instinctively flew over her mouth while the other was entangled in your hair. Oh, now this just wouldn’t do.
Heartlessly, you pulled away from her, pinning her down with a quirked brow and a tilt of your head.
“If you want me to keep going, you’ll do me a kindness and take your hand away from your mouth.” You say evenly, squeezing the soft skin of her thighs as you spoke. “I need to hear you.”
Hesitantly, she obeys, her trembling palm now living away from her face and down to the sheets. You hummed in response, muttering a quick “good girl” that made her stomach flutter.
Slowly, you began to work your tongue around her cunt again, languidly rolling the slick, warm muscle against the insides of her folds before you found her clit— obvious by the startled, sexy little noise Mizu made, forced to air it out into your space. *There,* instead of mercilessly attacking the lovely little bundle of nerves and sensitivity, you grace circles in the surrounding area, massaging and pushing, *sucking* on her flesh and drinking up the arousal that began to coat your lips and chin. Mizu’s shy, strained, and awkward noises slowly began to bloom into unabashed, almost *girlish* moans and whimpers. Rarely did she ever sound this way, being so accustomed to lowering her voice and acting as an intimidator for most of her life. You soaked up these noises like the demon you were, taking it as a sign to continue to relentlessly flick your tongue over and inside of her. Mizu took this all beautifully, arching her back and moaning out your name in a way that awakened something primal in you.
“Mmf…fuck…” you groan into her pussy, enjoying the way she twitched against you. “You taste amazing…” you begin to babble, grabbing her by the hips and pushing her further against you in a way that made her openly gasp.
“(Name…!)” she grunts, fighting against every instinct in her body that urged her to hide her face and noises behind her palms.
Wordlessly, you bring one of your hands away from holding her hips and down to where your mouth met skin, easily pumping your digits inside of her thanks to the gushing quality of her pussy.
“God, Mizu, you’re soaking up the sheets..” you scold teasingly, making her face grow hotter than it was. You look up, noticing her eyes glazed with unshed tears as her body trembles. You coo at the sight, your fingers still relentless.
“Aw, you’re close, aren’t you?” You say, voice light and adoring. You’ve never seen her in such a wreck, but a cruel, primal side of you adored the sight and hungered for more, hungered to keep her desperate and begging for hours— to tear her apart…
But the saner, better side of you was reminded that Mizu could only take so much for her first time, and there would always be more time.
“I got you, baby..” you mutter before you begin to eat her out with far more conviction than before, now desperate to milk out an orgasm that would blind her with pleasure. Your finger massages her deeper, and Mizu’s breath hitches. *There.* At the same time as your tongue, your finger attacks Mizu’s most sensitive areas before you feel her thighs clench around your head as she arches her back and *cums,* voice breaking in all her desperation as she sobs out your name. Greedily, you drink up the arousal that was dripping out of her pussy like a person deprived of water. By the end, you’re both out of breath, bodies slack and lazy against each other. You made haste in readying a warm, damp towel as you cleaned up your wife, making her sigh in contentment. You’re both eventually back beneath the warm covers of your bed, but you’re staring, unashamed and adoring at Mizu’s giddy expression. It was a subtle thing, but everything with Mizu was subtle. The slight squint beneath her eyes, the upwards curve of her lips, the flush over her cheeks.
“I didn’t go too rough, did I?” You ask, now fidgeting with the cloth of her raggedy tee.
She chuckles at that, adjusting herself so that she could face you until your foreheads touched, a warm flush across her face.
“If that was rough, gentle wouldn’t be enough, now would it?” She says, pinning you down with those eyes that drew. you towards her in the first place.
“So I can go again?”
She pauses for a moment, eyes going wide for the slightest of seconds. You resist the urge to laugh.
“Tomorrow.”
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Hola despacito puss n boots, can i request the reader is like la muerte from the book of life except of being with balbi she's very much single and ready to mingle, i just thought of this while re watching the movie and thinked it would be cool to see a OP beautiful reader😋
-Y/N, known throughout the world as La Muerte or La Catrina, was a stunning beauty. Graceful, elegant, a kind and just heart, watching over her section of the Land of the Dead, she was truly a leader, through and through.
-A beautiful, but massive, hat adorned with candles and the most beautiful marigolds was what most saw first, as it was her main focal point, but once past the majesty of the hat, all were able to behold her beauty.
-A thin woman with curves in all the right places, long flowering dark hair, flaming gold eyes that pierced through the darkness, her makeup beautifully decorating her features to make her face look like her precious sugar skulls, a long flowing red dress adorned with more, but smaller, marigolds, the pure definition of beauty.
-But don’t let her pretty face and kind nature fool you, Y/N was regarded as one of the strongest in the Land of the Dead, and there were many others around Valhalla who knew not to cross her.
-She doted on those who resided in her land, from other gods of the same culture to the humans who had been brought to her domain, chosen by the valkyries as notable warriors.
-Once a year, on Día de los Muertos, known elsewhere as the Day of the Dead, Y/N uses her powers to bridge the gap between Valhalla and Earth, so those in her domain can visit their families.
-Many gods thought that you were a bit odd for doing something like this for humans, but your wise words resonated with them when asked, “We are gods because we are remembered, just as they are lost loved ones who have those remember them. If none remember us, as gods or as beings ourselves, then we are nothing. Being remembered is important.”
-The biggest shock about you however, was that despite your beauty, your power, everything that was you, YOU WERE SINGLE!!!
-Many gods have tried courting you in the past but you’ve always rejected them, letting them down gently, unless if they got forceful with you, that’s when they learned how powerful you truly could be.
-You just never thought about dating before, sure there were plenty of attractive candidates around, you looked at them like any other woman would, but you always chose your duty over your heart.
-However, after so many years and seeing couples all around you, some good and some bad, you started to feel an ache in your chest, a longing of sorts.
-You made the decision that you were finally ready to date!!
-At the next massive party hosted by the gods, being held in the Hindu pantheon, you chose to attend. You weren’t a normal attendee, choosing to only come once in a while, but you were well received by those who did know you.
-To those who didn’t know you, at least what you looked like, were stunned them stiff when you walked in, an air of warmth but also mystery surrounding you as you smiled at those who came to greet you.
-The party was wonderful, you got to try some interesting new foods and you drank several cocky gods under the table and you didn’t feel any of the booze you ingested, not even a tiny bit.
-Shiva had his arms folded, a grin on his face as he watched you speaking kindly to his son, Ganesha, as well as his three wives, Parvati, Kali, and Durga, the four of you conversing warmly with each other.
-He felt a bump against his arm and he was surprised to see Rudra there, staring at the same thing, only his eyes were focused only on you, you were so unique but so beautiful, he couldn’t look away, “Oi Shiva, who’s that?”
-Shiva felt the grin coming to his lips almost instantly, “Oh~~ that’s Y/N, but most know her by her true name, La Muerte, she’s a goddess of death over in the Latin pantheon.”
-His eyes went huge, gawking as he turned, “That’s La Muerte?! She doesn’t look like anything I’ve heard from others.”
-Shiva couldn’t keep the gremlin inside him from coming out, “I can introduce the two of you.” Rudra instantly blushed, knowing he had been caught, sputtering lightly before he was quick to reject his friend, “No-no thanks, I’m good, I’m not-”
-A new voice cut off their conversation, Ganesha, holding your hand, pulling you over, “Papa-papa! Look at the flowers Miss Y/N gave to me!!” his arms were full of brightly colored marigolds and Shiva couldn’t help but grin, putting his hand on his son’s head, “They’re beautiful Ganesha! Thank you Y/N.”
-You just smiled warmly at Shiva, “It’s no trouble at all, Lord Shiva. Oh- I apologize, we haven’t met. I am La Muerte, or La Catrina, but most gods know me as Y/N.” you had turned to Rudra who froze, his face quickly turning red before he saw Shiva smirking at him and he turned, folding his arms, suddenly, pouting.
-You were surprised that he turned from you until you saw his flushed ears as Shiva cackled in delight, “This is Rudra, God of Storms, and the closest thing I have to a brother.”
-Rudra tried to keep his face even, hearing the praise but you both saw the steam coming from his head as he flushed even more, which got Shiva howling with laughter and the two were quickly locked up, grappling with each other, Shiva teasing him and Rudra demanding that he stop.
-You found Rudra… interesting, he was very unique, compared to what you normally see in your corner of Valhalla, but at the same time, you felt a pull of sorts, an attraction.
-Once the two grappling men parted, after having a full out brawl until Shiva’s wives intervened, scolding the both of them, you decided to make your exit, for the day at least.
-You approached by Rudra, who froze, your eyes meeting and you smiled, reaching up to cup his cheek gently, but said nothing.
-You left him stunned and he felt something on his ear and he lifted his hand to find a red marigold that you had placed there.
-He looked after you, seeing the candles burning brightly on your massive hat, and he felt the same sense of longing towards you.
-He fist-bumped Shiva who walked by only second later.
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Hello I'm not quoting blog name here but what do you think about this ? Your real opinion about Jimin and Jungkook.
the thing is i dont think jikook are actually together. i think they have feelings for each other and on some level they both know it and i think they play it up in front of the camera because it feels safer in some twisted way-- they can write it off as fanservice. theyre obviously the closest in the group but besides a few drunken... not kisses but charged moments (the hickey hello), i dont think theyve done anything. i think they are acutely aware of the eyes on them and the line they cannot cross, and i think they toe it more often than they probably should. i think they date other people. i think as their outside relationships ebb and flow so does the bond between them, i think there is jealousy, i think there is confusion about what will happen between them. i think theyre both very aware of their status as celebrities and that they will simultaneously be wholeheartedly accepted and carelessly shunned, i think nothing will happen until after their military service, i think, realistically, nothing will happen until after DISBANDMENT, when they try to stay away from each other, bitter, and realize they can't
I think it's beautifully written.
It's the most serene form of adultification of Jikook I've seen so far. Don't get me wrong. Jikook are adults, yes. But they've not always been adults.
But I mean, I would come to the same conclusion too if I was looking at jikook in media res. It's very easy to look at them as they are now and think - for lack of a better word- highly of them because they look like two professionals and two self respecting adults who have control over their charged "chemistry" on screen.
But I'm afraid that's not jikook.
I met jikook as teens and have had the privilege of watching them literally grow to become the jikook we see on screen today.
"They are very aware of their status as celebrities"
Uhmmm celebrities where?? Here? I think da fuck not
I don't even think it's clocked for some of them that they are celebrities and some of them are still getting used to the fact they are.
You know there was a time they would stroll into airports and nobody cared? Shocking I know. They took to the streets to sell their own tickets and would keep asking strangers, "do you know BTS"
Back in their own home country not many people even knew who they were.
And you have to understand this fact about them on order to appreciate the gravity of their success. They are a spectacle and such a global phenomenon partly because of their poor to riches story. Let's not belittle that for literary symmetry.
Bts hasn't always been this big huge stars of world dominating proportions. Believe it or not.
That gaze we think shapes their every conduct now hasn't always been there. No one was checking for them like that and like they themselves said some of them even nearly quit because they didn't know they would become this huge.
In the Fandom we talk about Namjoon constantly keeping them in check and reminding them people are watching- mind you these are media trained idols we talking about and yet how many times have we had to clear searches for their blunder? How many times have they had to issue an apology for the song lyrics or comments they've made.
They are constantly reminding eachother of the gaze
BTS came from somewhere. Whatever platform they are on they built it from the ground up. As good intentioned as we are in our analysis of them, we shouldn't take that away from them.
They've been in the mud and they've got some dirt on them and they've done things when they thought no one was watching. But that's part of their journey. You don't need to bend over backwards and clean them up to make them look presentable. Which is what I feel OP is doing here. A cleaned up version of jikook.
Op talks about a few drunken moments- was this before or after Jungkook was legally allowed to drink alcohol? Or is she just superimposing adult jikook on all stages of Jikook's journey? See what I mean?
BTS have talked about struggling with teenage hormones, about struggling with lust and love, watching porn, popping off, girls, boys, dating, attraction, gender expression, struggling with their identity- those are very valid lived experiences we cannot take away from them.
We cannot for instance take away from the fact they shared a bed while naked, the fact they sneaked into each other's hotel rooms and was caught on camera, nor take away from them the feeling of attraction or the fact they love each other.
And while Anon likes to think so highly of them as to believe they could be in such close proximity, as human as they were, as young as they were, as hormonal as they were, willing to experiment and take risks, that they could restrain themselves because of a career they had no idea they would have or because of a large audience that didn't exist at the time, I have no such compunction. Jikook fucked eachother. They were young, and wild and horny and they fucked eachother. It's very simple.
One plus one is two for me. I don't have to rack my brians or sugarcoat it.
"Nothing will happen until after disbandment."
Why do people make sex out to be such a big deal😭
IT'S JUST SEX.
Okay scratch that, it's not just sex for them because it's also about having their needs met, it's about the companionship, self discovery and exploration. People think being an idol is easy. It gets lonely and often times depressing and these people develop all kinds of coping mechanisms and to me jikook found each other to cope too.
We cannot have a conversation around Tae Tae's struggles and depression, Jimin's complaints of loneliness, Namjoon and Suga's you know what, Jin's depresion and abyss while also not considering what they'd done or what they would have needed to do to cope. Especially when we read that other idols were and are advised to date, do therapy, smoke, do drugs, fuck around- albeit discreetly as a cooping mechanism for these struggles.
They can give each other hickies and rat each other out in public for said hickies, touch their dicks and spank each other's ass, they can play kiss kiss with each other as part of games, and tell each other they like to be tied up, but God forbid they actually kiss.
And gaze or not, there men have lived their lives and gathered experiences. Not all facet of their lives are controlled by our gaze. They out there living their lives I promise you that. They all fucking those they want to fuck, taking substances they wanna take, drinking whatever the fuck they want to drink.
Our opinion of them isn't stopping them from living their lives. That's my opinion and my belief. Just because I say they not screwing no body don't change a thing for them.
And if jikook ain't fucking, really their loss 💀
I wouldn't mind fucking jimin for Kook. Imma blow his back the fuck out. Every block boy need a little love💕
Put it down and imma pick it up purr
These mofos are out here thirst trapping eachother thrusting their hips in sexual aggression and belting in high key notes over sex and here we are thinking they are too decent to the blowing it up each other's ass.
And to think they both been acting dickmatized all these years because they aren't screwing??? Huh???
Yall do too much I swear
Look, this is a bell
This is Jimin ringing said bell
This is Jungkook when he heard Jimins bell
And this is Jikook ring ranging the bell together
Jikook are fucking eachother. They can't unring that bell and no one can convince me otherwise. I just don't trust that with all the sexual tensions and all the alone time they spend together that all they do when they are alone is read scriptures.
Nope. Nah uh
But hey, to each their own.
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"If you want to court my anime fanart please submit a >500word essay or fanfiction detailing why you'd treat them right. This is for my entertainment only."
Dearest Kicking of the Carrots,
While I do digress that your username implies a mindless desire to cause harm to the edible orange gem of the soft and loamy soil we call our Earth, it is of utmost importance that I underline to you with as much vigour and passion as I fantasize about picking up our dearest obsession, Chuuya, and carrying him around so that his heavenly soles of the feet never have to touch anything except the interior of his impeccably styled footwear and the tips of my delicate, calloused fingers, that I must underline to you how well I would treat your collection of beautifully assorted lines. Pixels on a screen have never brought about such awe, admiration and heart palpitations as yours- your pixels, my dearest, are so mesmerizing that I, a lowly anon of the vast ocean of the internet, have found myself in this precarious situation in which I am writing a letter to you to ask for a light while I fight the waves of disillusionment in which I drown without such beauty. Simply put, I would like to marry your art. I am devoted, loyal, and recently widowed as my gorgeous wife - Pianoman - has revealed himself to actually only have been a deceased corpse this entire time. It is with great sorrow and regret that I confess to you that I only laughed at your warnings of him being a zombie- I laughed! Foolishly, of course, as you had been correct all this time. Henceforth, I will never make the same mistake twice; you have my word that I will not repeat myself in this embarrassing lapse in my judgement. It is not my fault, however- it is difficult to think clearly when I haphazardly catch glimpses of the stored files of my memory of your art: so beautiful, so delicate, yet so moving at the same time. It would be unfair to call you the creator of this art, and even 'OP' is a mockery to your level of dedication towards feeding the hungry masses of this internet platform. A mockery, because it is only with the fire of a burning passion and my kitchen oven that one can describe your oeuvres d'art, not with the weak words of the English language. My admiration can be reiterated in a number of essays, literary novels if I must, but my love for your art will never waver. We will be happy, eternally. Even as I fade as a mere mortal, I will leave behind an army of jpgs and pngs, trained only to take care of my dear love. Allow me to be clear; I seek not to breed with your art, only to cherish and love it until my final breath, to take it to witness the sun set, rise and dance among the clouds and never allow the drawn-on smile leave its face… not that it could, of course. I do not have any intentions of altering, colouring or reshaping your art in any way, as I am convinced that it is perfect the way you drew it. You, with the hands of an angel and the greatest minds to ever grace this universe. It's nearly terrifying, flabbergasting even (please pardon my vivid language), to think that at this moment, we could be breathing the same air. Drinking water that had, at one point in our lifetimes, passed through the other's system, traversed from their esophagus into their kidneys, then escaped, free again. I apologize for wasting your resources, for leaving you unattended at this moment when I instead could be feeding you grapes and batting you with large leaves. Since I cannot do this, I beg of you, let me take care of your art. I will do everything in my power, and more, to satisfy it. I do not frequently resort to begging, but such dire situations require dire responses. I will not only kick every carrot I see in my life, but I will even supply you with pictures of my kicking of the carrots. A woman can only reach such a level of desperation before her senses bring her back to the last shred of dignity she still holds as she refrains herself from continuing to speak, thereby incriminating herself, knowing fully well that her pleads will be put on display for all to see. Do not take this ask lightly, for I have poured all of my heart, soul, passion and maybe a little bit of piss for the sake of symbolism, into it.
Yours truly, with palpable vibes,
anon (you have yet to name me, and it would be pretentious to give myself a name. if you are willing to let me into your family, then I hope you will grace me with a name as well, my dearest)
omg.. oh my gosh. i'm blushing
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(Sorry my Op.5 hype is off the charts: super long post up ahead with a bit of analysis into why Sherlock says the things he does to convince William to live)
Can I just say that Morimyu Op. 3 does a fantastic job at setting up the confrontation between William and Sherlock?
William sings, conflicted, about whether he can still find forgiveness. His mind is set on dying (alone), but there's a part of his heart that wavers.
AND THEN. AND THEN!!!!! SHERLOCK MEETS HIM IN DURHAM AND TELLS HIM
A crime is still a crime, no matter how noble the intention. He cannot forgive killing others and using the deaths of people, even despicable people. (Which is beautifully contrasted against the Jack the Ripper case btw). He will catch the Lord of Crime and punish him for his actions.
It's at that point that William turns a bit sorrowful and resigned (and Shogo's expression is so!!!! SO!!!!! wow his despair is palpable) almost as if he's thinking to himself 'as expected, there is no forgiveness for someone like me' and probably solidifies his idea that death is the only suitable recompense for him.
--
ANYWAY back to the manga itself
His sorrowful condemnation:
I think that it's precisely because of this, the only person whose forgiveness can change his mind is Sherlock.
It doesn't matter that Fred or Louis or what any others think. They can call him a good person all they want, but it doesn't change the fact that in his mind, he is already condemned.
(Besides that, his accomplices are all evil because their plan is inherently evil to him. Their words hold little weight. A sinner can't save another.)
That is, until Sherlock tells him this.
And suddenly his entire worldview is upended. Because all this time, he believed there was only condemnation to be found for someone like him.
Sherlock, his righteous actor in the stage of London's crimes, has deemed him worthy of redemption.
And if the one good person thinks that William can be saved...
But no! How can believe that? William James Moriarty is the devil incarnate. He is stained. His sins are unforgivable, no matter what Sherlock says. Murder is unforgivable, right?
So Sherlock flips the script.
He reminds William that HE is also a criminal and murderer. (It's a perfect crime in the eyes of the law, but William knows the truth)
He becomes the mirror reflecting William's image so that William can come to the realisation that they are all capable of good and evil.
The greatest evil is capable of good.
The greatest good (Sherlock - in Liam's eyes, at least) is capable of evil.
And if William can still think of Sherlock as good despite this,
And if William can forgive Sherlock for murder...
Then why can't William himself be forgiven for murder?
I think, in some ways, here Sherlock also confesses that he has lost the mandate or the right to catch William as a detective on the right side of the law.
He's not standing there as someone catching a criminal.
They're now standing as equals. Friends (or whatever you call that tension they have going on LOL), rivals, equals.
It's no longer "catch" in the criminal sense, but to "catch" a falling friend. A trust fall, if you will.
(It just occurred to me that the whole chapter is just a trust fall exercise on a large scale LMAO)
This changes the whole trajectory of what William believes in. That seed of doubt has been planted in him - that he could, perhaps, still find forgiveness.
More importantly, that he has Sherlock's forgiveness.
And that is what allows him to live on.
#yuukoku no moriarty#moriarty the patriot#sherliam#my writing#the thoughts are falling#sherlock holmes (mtp)#william james moriarty#just a bit of introspection#sparked by my obsession with morimyu#yes I recently rewatched op.3#the falling in my username actually stands for falling apart#which is exactly what is happening to me every time i think about sherliam#i fall apart
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