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russellsppttemplates · 2 months

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Part-time driver, part-time nurse (Charles Leclerc)

Charles spends his off season nursing you back to health

Note: english is not my first language. This is the opportunity to showcase all of my Grey's Anatomy knowledge 😅 jokes aside, this really is knowledge that I have from medical shows and a little research, so the accuracy might not be on point! It was inspired by this blurb!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: reader has a surgery (cholecystectomy), hospitals, medications, mild mention of sex

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"It's really painful, Charles", you groaned, finding a position in bed where you'd be a little bit more comfortable. You had a good pain tolerance and hated hospitals, so when he heard you say those words, he knew well enough that your pain had to be through the roof.

"Let's put this on and then we go to the hospital, okay amour?", he suggested soflty, prepared to gently force you in case you resisted. This was not an okay situation and even though you didn't like the setting, they would be the ones able to help you

"I need your help", you admitted, allowing Charles to lift your torso and dress you with one of his zip up hoodies, "Good, that's good, amour", he cooed, supporting your body on his as you walked out of the flat and into the garage.

"Am I hurting you?", he asked as he lowered your body into the passenger seat, "no, it comes and goes in waves, but it's still at the same place, right here", you winced as you showed him, pointing to your upper abdomen and then your back.

Charles drove to the hospital, his hand holding yours so you could squeeze anytime you needed, "you can park there already, I can walk to the door", you mumbled, "are you sure?", he checked, "yes, handsome", you smiled faintly.

The hospital wasn't too busy since visiting hours had ended a while ago, so Charles parked fairly close to the door, "up, gently, good", he helped you out and locked the car, looking at your face when he heard you laugh.

"We were so busy that I didn't even notice I have my slippers on still", you showed him the fluffy beige footwear, "I think it's trendy, you are going to set a new fashion", he said as you walked to the door of the emergency room.

After being escorted to a bed, a doctor came up to meet you, "Hi, I'm Dr. Richard and I'll be your doctor this evening", he said, greeting you and Charles, "Ms. Y/L/N, it says here you have pain in your abdomen", he stated as waited for your clarification.

"Yes, especially around here", you pointed to the upper right section, "at first it was just here, but then it spread to my back. I wouldn't have come in if it wasn't really impossible to go about my day with it", you sighed as the doctor typed away on his tablet.

"I'm going to do an ultrasound on you", he said as he pulled the kart with the machine closer to the bed, the nurse adjusting the drip he put in your arm with pain medication, "you seem to have cholecystitis, which is when your gallbladder is very inflamed and it causes pain. This ultrasound should let us know quickly if this is the case", he said as you lifted your top, wincing at the cold gel as the doctor moved the wand around.

"See this right here?", Dr. Richard pointed to the screen, "it's your gallbladder, and it is definitely inflamed. The course of treatment is surgically removing it", he explained, grabbing a towell to clean off the excess product from your skin.

"Surgery?", Charles questioned, worry sketched in his eyes, "yes, we do it laparascopically, just a few small incisions on your abdomen. It's very simple, you'll be able to go home tomorrow afternoon if we do the surgery in the morning", he said

"Okay, then. Sounds good", you spoke, "anything to take this pain away", you said, holding Charles' hand in your own.

"This is Dr. Pavard, she's one of my surgical interns", he said as a young woman approached your bed, greeting you, "she'll be the one to take you up to your room, she'll take some samples to make sure everything else is good for surgery and we'll do it tomorrow morning", he smiled, excusing himself as he was being paged to another case.

"Can I go with her?", Charles wondered, as the intern looked a little uneasy on her answer, "I'll have to talk to my superiors about it, but you can go up to the room until I figure it out. How does that sound?", she stated and you both nodded, your boyfriend grabbing your bag and walking behind her as she wheeled you along the corridor into the elevator, not missing the double checks some patients and hospital staff gave him.

After drawing the samples she needed, the intern left you and Charles in the room, "how are you feeling, amour?", he asked, holding your hand between his and kissing your fingertips, "I'm fine, the pain meds are working wonders", you sighed, "not my plans for the next few days to have surgery, but it's for the best", you reasoned.

"Do you think they'll let me stay with you?", Charles wondered, "I'm not sure, Charles. They have very strict rules. Joris said one of his cousins couldn't have anyone with her when she was admitted", you shrugged, "it would be nice having you here, but let's not get our hopes up", you attempted.

After telling you all your labs checked out and you'd be having surgery in the morning, Dr. Richard excused himself and spoke to the nurses outside of the room, "I'm going to the bathroom, and I don't need help", you looked at your boyfriend who looked like a puppy you had kicked out in the street.

When you came out, Charles was closing the door behind him, a smile on his lips as he looked at you, "where did you go? I didn't even take that long in there", you quirked an eyebrow at him, "Oh, they told you you have to leave?".

"I spoke to Dr. Richard", he said with a smirk on his lips, "I'm staying!".

"Charles!", you sterned, "you know you shouldn't pull the card at these things!", you reasoned despite feeling a little bit more at ease that you'd have him with you the whole time.

"I didn't pull any card or any strings!", Charles defended himself, "I went up to him and asked if there was a chance, because I'd be here first thing in the morning anyway, and he said he had already asked one of the nurses to get me a pillow and a blanket for that sofa, that apparently turns into a bed if I want it to", he shrugged his shoulders, "I wasn't going to say no".

Despite shaking your head at him, you were grateful that he also wanted to stay with you, "sometimes I forget that I'm dating the principality's pride child", you teased him, making room for him in your bed so he could envelop you in your arms, "thank you, though", you kissed his jaw.

"They also assured me that everyone that saw us wouldn't mention this to anyone, so you're safe", he mumbled, kissing your forehead, "now rest, amour, you'll need it before your surgery".

Early in the morning, the surgical team came to the room to take you, not before Charles kissed your lips, "I love you so much, Charles, I'll see you in a bit", you smiled, nodding to the interns who would be wheeling you to the operating room.

About halfway through the procedure, one of the interns came into the room to assure Charles everything was going as it was supposed to, "thank you for letting me know", he said, watching him leave before his phone rang, Pierre's contact name showing on the screen.

"Hey, man! How are you? Me and Francisca are in Monaco for a few days, do you and Y/N want to plan something?", the French man asked over the phone.

"Hey! Y/N's is actually having surgery right now - her gallbladder was giving her trouble so they're taking it out", Charles explained, "we should be going home this afternoon, hopefully, so if you guys don't mind hanging out at our place, it's fine".

"Oh, I hope everything goes well", Pierre said, saying something to who Charles assumed was his girlfriend, "let us know how it goes and we'll go from there, okay? We don't want to bother you even more".

After wishing everything would go well and requesting that Charles let's him know when you were awake, Pierre ended the call and your boyfriend took the opportunity to update your families.

"She's out of the operating room and she's starting to wake up, they will bring her up soon", one of the nurses smiled as Charles nodded, taking a sip from his coffee as he waited for you.

When they wheeled you back into the room, your eyes looked tired but you smiled when you saw him, "everything went as planned, there were no complications, so it should be a smooth recovery. They'll bring your breakfast in a bit and if you can tolerate that and walk just fine, we'll be able to discharge you when your labs come back good!", your surgeon said before excusing himself.

"Hey, bébé", he smiled, kissing your forehead, "how are you feeling?", he asked.

"I'm good, loopy from the meds, but I'm also quite hungry", you giggled, "I'm sorry I caused you to worry", you began.

"It's part of it", he shrugged his shoulders, kissing your hands, "all that matters is that it went well and you're feeling good. My mother says she dropped by our flat and arranged the place a little bit - it wasn't too messy, don't worry - and she also left a pasta bake; your parents are very happy and relieved it went well. Pierre and Kika are in town as well and I told them that if you weren't too tired, they could spend tomorrow with us, but only of you feel up to it!", he was quick to mention.

"That sounds nice!", you nodded, "I haven't seen them in a while", you recalled.

After eating breakfast and walking along the corridor a few times during the day, the doctors discharged you, prescribing the medications you would need and listing the signs you should look out for.

"Here, amour, careful", Charles said as he helped you up the small step to get into your flat, guiding you to the living room where the sofa was packed with blankets and pillows, "Careful, you don't want to hurt your tummy", he ushered as you sat down, kissing the top of your head.

"Charles, love, the incisions are very small, I have to be careful, yes, but if they said that I could come home, it's because I can move still", you giggled, appreciating his attention even though he was being a little over the top, not letting you get up to grab snacks from the kitchen.

"I have grapes for you", he smiled, coming back with a plate for you, "they're full of the good things you have to eat, so your body heals nicely and you feel better", he said, sitting next to you carefully as you took some to eat.

Later, when you wanted to get up, his hand carefully stopped you, "my love, I need to pee, and I'm not even going to let you think of a way to help. I'm just going to the bathroom and I'll be right back", you added.

"I carry you to the bathroom sometimes after we have sex and you can't do it on your own, I can do it now!", he suggested, almost getting up when you threateningly pointed your finger at him, "I'll be quick, Charles!", you smiled.

When you opened the door to get out, Charles was there, "did you wait outside for me?", you quirked your eyebrow, "I did! I didn't want something to happen to you!", he reasoned, "now you have to drink some water to make sure everything is functioning well, and your meds, too!".

Shaking your head at his worry and dedication, you couldn't help but smile, "I love you, Charles, and as much as I'm a little annoyed at the fact that you're my shadow, I must admit I love having you here with me everyday", you smiled, kissing his cheek and then his lips, "I love you, amour, I just want you to be well".

When the next morning came around, Charles guided you to the living room again, making breakfast for you as you sent a few work e-mails explaining what was happening and why you had to take a few days off when a text from Francisca popped up in your phone, saying they were at the door.

Texting her the code to enter the building, you got up to open the door, figuring you would take the same amount of time until they knocked.

"Hi! Quick, quick, quick, before Charles sees I'm up from the sofa", you ushered them to the living room right as Charles was coming out of the kitchen with your breakfast.

"I saw you, Y/N", he sterned as he shook his head, "you cannot stay still, can you, woman?", he teased, setting the tray on the coffee table and chasing you as you hid beside Pierre, "we've been friends for nearly as long a time as I've been Charles' friend, Gasly, don't gang up on me now!", you attempted as Charles picked you up gently, "hey!".

"You had surgery, Y/N", Pierre began, "if he didn't do it, I would do it myself", he snickered as you showed him the middle finger.

"How are you feeling, though?", Francisca asked once you were all sat on the big sofa, "comparing to the pain I had, I'm great, I swear I never felt pain like it", you answered, taking a sip from your tea and cutting the toast Charles made for you.

"You have a full on breakfast here", Pierre pointed out, "of course we have! Y/N needs to replenish and eat so she can heal", Charles stated.

"Anyone who hears him thinks I've had a whole things done to me and what I had it's pretty common", you giggled, "still, I don't mind the attention", you said as you kissed his cheek while Pierre pretend to barf on the side of your sofa.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fluff

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lazycats-stuff · 1 year

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Batfamily x male!reader

A 3rd part to the Court of owls reader, since it seems you were interested in a 3rd one. And also, just like you asked me, @xweirdo101x, here is a tag. Part 1 and part 2 are here

And also, you are free to send requests.

Summary: The family brought (Y/N) back home. (Y/N) isn't happy with the idea.

Warnings: (Y/N) is on house arrest, maybe manipulation, (Y/N) ignores everyone, attempt at escaping, "

(Y/N)'s eyes opened. He was confused, but then everything that happened came back to him. His father kidnapped him. His brother participated... And the other 3 of course... He turned his head. He was in his old room...

His shelves were still full of his favorites. 90 percent of the books were from Stephen King. He loved his writing. He missed these books. He tried to get up from the bed, but he was too weak from the sedative. He opted to turn his head.

His old desk was there too. Some of his old notebooks were still there. Were his sketches still in there? Or his notes that he wrote about an owl that visited his window every night? Maybe that owl was a sign of his future and what was to come in his life?

Did that owl still come to him, even after he left?

He turned his head to look at the door when it was opening. Bruce entered, carrying something in his hands. (Y/N) glared at him.

" Good morning son. Are you in any pain? "

(Y/N) refused to talk. Not happening. With a last glare, he turned his back to Bruce. He didn't hear anything from Bruce, but he felt the bed indenting.

" You know, when you went missing, Talia and I joined forces to find you. Even the others, who didn't know you, joined in. But we trained you well and you disappeared. For years I wondered whether or not you were dead. "

He stopped, looking at his son's figure. Nothing.

" I brought one of your drawings. Well, not any drawing, it's a drawing of me. You said the lighting was great and you couldn't help yourself."

Bruce said, finger going over the paper. It got stained over time, but the piece still looked the same.

" I didn't even know. " Bruce said, chuckling at the memory.

" You can stay quiet and defiant all you want, but you will warm up to us. "

(Y/N) couldn't care less in. He really couldn't. He was going to escape either way, no matter what it took. And once he did that, he is going to go to Europe or Middle East. He is still deciding.

" Well, dinner is almost ready. We made your favorite. "

(Y/N) rolled his eyes. His favorite was going to fix everything? Please Bruce.

" I'm going to bring you some after dinner. "

And with that being said, Bruce left the room. (Y/N) listened to Bruce's footsteps. Once he was sure he left the hall, he tried to stand up. He took a deep breath and on shaky legs went to the window. He still remembers how he used to climb down from the wall. He hoped that stayed the same.

He pushed the window up, pushing his head out, looking down.

" Okay. " He put his head inside, moving to the closet. He won't be able to climb down in his socks.

" Shit! " He cursed, seeing that he had no footwear in the closet. This is bullshit. Okay, it seems that socks will have to do. He took a black pair and put them on quickly. He moved to the window, putting one leg out. He needs to make it to the city to one of his hideouts. He had money and documents there. He knows he can do this.

He put his leg over the ledge, stopping when he heard the door opening. Damian stood in the doorway. Two brothers stared each other down, before (Y/N) said screw it, jumping out the window. Damian was about to jump out and (Y/N) slammed the window down.

He swore he could hear a quiet scream of pain. It made him feel great. He is turning into a sadist.

He jumped down, quickly running towards the big wall that separated the property and his freedom. He jumped up, ignoring the shouts. He was about to jump over, but the electricity hit him. His entire body cramped. He fell down onto his back, his body cramping so hard.

He saw Bruce standing over him. Did he look disappointed? What the hell?

He tried to get away, but Bruce was quicker. He picked him up, moving him back to the manor.

" Did you really think that you could escape? " Bruce asked his son. (Y/N) tried to get out of Bruce's hold. Not happening. Nope.

" It seems that we have to put you in a cell. "

A cell? Where? In the cave? Or the Justice League? Or somewhere far off?

" Did you really think that I won't punish this behavior? "

(Y/N) was now slightly panicking. How long was he going to be there? And how will he escape from there?

" As long as you behave, you will get out of there quickly. "

(Y/N) saw the cell. It was glass cell and everyone could see through it. It had a bed, a small sink and a door connecting to a smaller room.

" It's a bathroom, don't worry. " Bruce said, as if he could read (Y/N)'s mind.

(Y/N) tried to slip from Bruce's grip. Bruce didn't react as the doors to the cell opened. Bruce put him on the bed before leaving. (Y/N) stayed on the bed. Why did he do this? Why did he let his emotion rule? He should have waited, planned it out better... He punched the glass of the cell. What is he going to do?

He laid down. He blinked a few times. He wasn't going to cry. Not now.

" Why? " he asked Bruce.

" You are wasting your talent. You are wasting your life with them. I know that you use that talent for good. And until you realize that, you are staying here. "

(Y/N) glared at Bruce. He wasn't staying. Not by a long shoot. He turned his back to Bruce. He pushed the covers over himself, refusing to talk anymore.

Days went by and (Y/N) was unresponsive. He refused to talk to anybody, no matter how hard they tried.

Bruce talked to him about the memories he had of him before he went missing, brought him food and just chatted over all. Sometimes even asked what (Y/N) thought about a certain case.

Dick talked to him for hours about random stuff. (Y/N) was going to hang himself at this rate.

Jason talked to him about motorcycles and guns. He did it when he was fixing his bike, asking what he thought about it.

Tim wasn't talking to (Y/N) about anything. He would asked if he wanted a coffee when he went to get a refill. He was (Y/N)'s favorite.

Damian was the most persistent one. He talked to (Y/N) about a lot of things. He talked in Arabic, hoping to get a response from (Y/N).

No results. Bruce had to call in the big guns.

" Talia, you have to try to get him talking. He simply refuses to. "

Talia nodded. She made her way to the front of the cell, watching her son. She remembers how lively and snarky he was. This is just a shell of her son.

" (Y/N)... " She trailed off, not knowing what to say or to do.

(Y/N)'s body went stiff. What is his mother doing here?

" Why aren't you talking? I missed the sound of your voice. "

(Y/N) turned his head around. Talia took in the sight of bloodshot eyes, circles beneath (Y/N)'s eyes... He looked miserable.

" Tell me, why do you keep fighting us? We only want to help you. "

(Y/N) laughed, full on laughing, throwing his head back. Bruce and Talia gave each other a look.

" Help? HELP?! " (Y/N) yelled out, walking to the front of the cell. He took a deep breath.

" You two never helped me. I hate both of you. " (Y/N) said chuckling.

His stopped smiling looking at them.

" I hate you both more than I hate life. Keep me in this cell for as long as you want, I will find a way out of here. Didn't you say that there is always a way out? " (Y/N) mocked Bruce.

" Send your birds and send your assassins. I will beat them either way."

(Y/N) said flatly. He turned his back to the room before laying down.

Bruce had no idea that (Y/N) hated Talia and him that much. Bruce sighed. They had a lot of work to do. Talia shook her head.

" We have to give him time. " Bruce said. He can't lie to himself. The words did stung.

" I agree. "

Bruce took one last glance before leaving the cave with Talia. They need to have a plan in order to do this. His son would return to him. Sooner or later.

#bruce wayne x male reader #damian x male reader #batfamily x male reader #batfamily #dc comics #dc #dc x male reader

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artmopworks · 19 days

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added yuuta and did a quick color!

Some head canons that could either work in DF au or in just in general. This isn't an exhaustive list by any means but these are some that really stick in my brain for some reason.

Toge:

-Goes through a period of intense self reflection and weed use in his mid 20s.

-He grows his hair out and wears it in a bun for about year. Maki would say he was depressed but he denies it for awhile before seeking help.

- Definitely had a phase where he does nothing but build Gundam's in his spare time.

-Finally accepts his lactose intolerance at 29 after Yuuta kicks him out of bed for the 10th night in a row because he insisted on having ice cream for dessert.

-Makes a point of telling Yuuta and Maki he loves them every day.

Maki:

-Gets a trendy short hair cut in her early 20s and is unable to look in the mirror for at least 3 months after as she would only see mai looking back at her.

-After years of rejecting her own femineity as a result of struggling for acceptance from her clan in her youth, she finally embraces the idea that she can enjoy feminine things without it being seen as a sign of weakness.

-Nishimiya and Miwa made a point of visiting with Maki after they graduate to share stories about Mai. The three of them eventually become close friends.

-gets really into knitting in her 30s. Toge teases her once and she throws one of the needles so hard it sticks in the wall 2 inches from his head. He never teases her about it again.

Yuuta:

-incredibly doting on Toge and Maki. She asks him to chill out after the 4th time they're mistaken for a married couple in public. He does not.

-Goes through a depressive period right along with Toge, often encouraging, albeit unknowingly, some of their more reclusive behaviors.

-Gets super into barefoot style footwear in his early 30s. Toge hated the way all his shoes looked. Later realized it was giving him knee pain and gave it up.

-Full on coffee snob in his mid 20s.

-Reconnects with his parents and younger sister after graduating and they happily accept Toge as part of their family.

-Regularly has "bro time" with Hakari.

feel free to comment your head canons about these 3!

#inumaki toge #inuokko #乙棘 #yuta okkotsu #zenin maki #headcanon #jujutsu kaisen fanart

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howtofightwrite · 9 months

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Clothes Followup

Hi there. Professional sportswear outfitter and part-time athelete here just chiming in on how these choices are perfectly believable, in my humble opinion: #1 SHOES "sneakers" is a loose definition. but, if the character is wearing casual/lifestyle "sneakers" like jordan lows, vans, etc., these type of shoes are FLAT (not narrow running shoes). Flat soled sneakers are often preferred training shoes for mixed arts or lifting at the gym. You could wear boots, but you're sacrificing agility. As a female, I can say that a female character likely would not inflict such a handicap as BOOTS on herself. Feet are very resilient and resistant to pain and injury. Being able to move on your feet matters a lot more than protecting them does. PASS #2 PANTS. you are not punching someone's pants while boxing. and have you watched fight club? they mostly wear jeans. they're durable, wick moisture (although it feels unpleasant), and if they're fitted properly, they're not going to get in the way of your agility. Jeans are light armor if you're speaking in tabletop rpg terms. PASS #3 SHIRT. a good tshirt of a decent quality will wick moisture, will not be bulky or baggy, and will move with its wearer. tshirts are not expensive and are the best option outside a sleeveless top or topless for martial arts. Especially if you have boobs. Boxing in only a racerback sports bra is also viable, but a tshirt will provide light protection to the skin, which is a good idea in amateur boxing. If they're WEARING GLOVES, nobody is grappling anyone's shirt so there is no risk of clothes-grabbing violations happening there. If this ring is literally underground, it's probably cold. Clothes can be shed between matches, but it's often more important to be clothed appropriately so as to prevent both overheating and chills. Becoming chilled between fights is a greater danger to performance than getting sweaty is. PASS I also have questions as to the type of boxing gloves being used. Are they full padded gloves? Light knuckle pads? Do the boxers wear headgear? Mouthguards? What areas are allowed to be hit or is it a free-for-all? Maybe you think these details are mistakes, but I disagree. Half my job is punching boxes all day. Hot, sweaty, fully clothed, wearing comfortable shoes. Lots of moving around. If I am going to punch boxes (or faces) for hours, that's exactly how I'd dress. The rest of my job? Literally outfitting people with boxing equipment. Literally selling people clothing for athletics. I am also a footwear specialist. Thank you for taking the time to read this. :) -lilkittay

So, apologies in advance, lilkittay, but you're about to get dragged. This might come as a shock, but I actually have a copy of the novel Fight Club. I just found it wedged between a copy of Hell's Angels by Hunter S. Thompson, and the Demolished Man by Alfred Bester. I'm not going to try to figure out what lead to that sorting peculiarity. The book is exceptionally good, and if you've never read it, it's an easy (if somewhat unpalatable) recommendation. Stick it up there with books like Native Son, or Ivan Denisovich, in that it covers some really ugly subject matter, but discusses a problem exceptionally well. And, in the 27 years since the novel was originally published, it has proved itself fairly prescient. It's not about the violence, it is an excellent discussion on the underlying psychology of toxic masculinity.

Now, the last time I mentioned Fight Club, someone immediately piped up with, “you've lost all credibility.” That's their problem, but I didn't actually define it, and it is a term that gets thrown around without being defined. Toxic masculinity refers specifically to an individual who cannot engage with their own emotions, particularly painful ones, in a healthy way, because they view those behaviors as effeminate. As a result, they respond aggressively and, or, violently. That's the toxic part. You get dumped. Your pet dies. You get passed over for a promotion at work. And, instead of dealing with that in a healthy way. In any healthy way. You go out into the world and try to make someone else suffer. That is toxic.

Unfortunately, Fight Club is not the grown up version of Calvin and Hobbes, though that is an amusing fan theory, and something that holds together better in the film thanks to Brad Pitt's costuming decisions.

I'm saying all of this to point out, the characters in Fight Club have no idea how to fight.

More than that, jeans are not light armor. Motorcycle leathers? Sure, those would be light armor. In fact, I'm pretty sure they're described as light armor in D20 modern. But, the only place I'd expect to see denim categorized as light armor is a game that used, “light armor,” for mage gear, “medium armor,” as rogue's leather and chain, and, “heavy armor,” as warrior gear. Which is to say, yeah, that's not how that works at all.

The problem with jeans as armor is, they're really bad at it. Someone with a crowbar? Yeah, jeans aren't going to do anything about that. Someone with an axe? I've heard about the aftermath, it was not pretty. Against a sword? Nope. Against a knife? Personal experience says the knife will win without issue. In an underground fighting arena against someone driving a shin kick into your knee? Yeah, your jeans may look fine after the fact, but you're probably not using that leg again anytime soon.

But, that RPG comment made something click together a little, so back to footwear for a second.

Why would someone wear boots? Now, personally, I wear motorcycle boots in my day to day life. Not because I'm a rider, but because I find them more comfortable and convenient than normal dress shoes, and so long as I keep them buffed out, they pass for men's dress shoes at a glance. The interesting thing about this is that my heel has a wide, flat, block of wood under it at all times. If it was a matter of life and death, I could probably grind off a significant chunk of my heel bringing a bike to a stop without suffering any injury. Now, I bring this up, because driving 200-300lbs of force behind a sharply edged wooden mallet into your unarmored instep will not improve your agility.

In the real world, armor doesn't work like D&D. There's no equivalent exchange between mobility and being able to soak a hit. (And if you think there's an irony in substituting a term from one RPG for another... well, yeah. You're not wrong.) If you think someone's going to stomp on your foot, bring steel toed boots. What you lose in agility today, you make up for in your ability to walk without a cane tomorrow.

The paradox of humans is that we are both stupidly resilient, and horrifically fragile, at the same time. Now, at this point, I do want to say something genuinely nice to you, even if it sounds a tiny bit condescending. You've never looked at another person as 150-250lbs of ambulatory meat and considered the best way to take them apart with your hands. And you know what? That is a good thing. Embrace that, and don't let go, because never finding yourself in that kind of a place is a credit to you, and the world you've been able to live in.

All of that said, fighting another human being is not a workout. It's engineering. You're looking at an organic machine with roughly the same parts and pieces you have, and your goal is to make that machine stop thrashing around, screaming, and leaking on everything, before it does the same to you. It's not better. It's not worse. It's different, and it comes with different considerations. You don't dress to look good or stay comfortable, you dress to avoid life altering injuries if at all possible.

Competitive fighting does land at a meeting point of these two considerations however. The fighter wants to come out intact, the sponsors want good show, one that will draw an audience. This leads to things like fighting in a sports bra. Yes, it may be the most, “agile,” option, but if you're going to be in a fist fight, a heavy leather jacket, preferably one with fiberglass plates may not breathe, but it will take far more abuse than your body can. (Actually, I think sometimes the inserts are made out of memory foam these days, which should also take a hit pretty effectively, especially against an unarmed foe.)

This isn't a major issue, but it is something to consider, when thinking about the temperature of the arena, it's important to remember that human body heat in a crowded space is somewhat cumulative. So, a room that starts out at around 60 degrees, could easily warm up to a comfortable temperature once the spectators are present. There's actually consistent math for calculating what you should set the thermostat for in an amphitheater when it's unoccupied so that the temperature is comfortable when the seats are filled, but I can't remember the numbers, and can't find it on short notice.

You do bring up a good point, the original Anon did not specify what kind of gloves were used. I assumed those were nominally regulation boxing gloves, but those could be something like the UFC gloves from a couple decades back, that left the fingers exposed while armoring the knuckles. The armor on those gloves allowed the wearer to inflict all kinds of horrific injuries on one's foes. In an event Michi is quite happy to recount, her younger brother almost lost an eye to a skull fracture from one of those during a poorly supervised sparring bout. It's fairly credible to suggest that an illegal fight club might use those simply to excite the crowds with actual bloodshed.

Now, as someone who has worked in shipping, I know full well that sometimes boxes do hit back. However, they are the exception rather than the rule. There's nothing wrong with practicing on punching bags, but boxes aren't trying to break you. At worst, they may just want to take a nap on the floor without regard to whether you're in the way or not. Live opponents? They're looking at you as however many pounds of meat machinery, and trying to end you. Looking good doesn't make their job harder, but armoring up does.

Anyway, like I said to the original Anon, nothing in their explanation was outright wrong. A lot of it was non-optimal, but not to such a degree as to shatter belief. The mistake you're making, and I really do say this with respect, is that you're looking at it like any other physical activity. As I said, combat is not a work out. Combat as a hazardous environment beyond the reach of OSHA. You wear protective gear (if you can) because that protection may be the difference between walking out alive and (basically) unharmed, or never walking again. You wouldn't (or at least, really shouldn't) take a bike out on the freeway at 60mph in jeans and a tees, you really don't want to get in a fight wearing them either.

-Starke

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#writing reference #writing advice #writing tips #starke answers #how to fight write #martial arts

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kuni-is-daddy · 10 months

Note

Hi thank you for taking my request if it's all right can I please ask for a part two where he finds out the darling is good and stitching/customizing and

Where he find the darling making a doll of him

So they can hug it when he isn't there

YANDERE SCARAMOUCHE X FEMALE READER.

1.43k words. Scara masterlist

TW:? Signals of anxiety, Bl00d mentions, Threatening. Shameless manipulation

Featuring?: Childe. Mentions of scaras fatui life and backstory/Inazuma spoilers.

Scara's oufit for your 'date' ->> Link

First part -> Jirai Kai

Kuni pulled away from the kiss to observe your fragile body against the tree. "Hah. Never though you could make the taste of dango better my love. We should have more dates like this~" you blushed and looked away from him. "I-it wasnt a date! We we're just going to pick up your package. i-i didnt even want to come out.." "Oh really? but im sure you did enjoy the little show i put on for you, didnt you?" he snickered at your silence, then licked off the woman's blood from his hand.

"You liked talking to that sneaky youkai as well.. Why didnt you tell me those two humans we're bothering you. I would've got rid of them right then and there." He roughly cupped your cheek, Giving you no choice but to stare at his dead indigo eyes and bloodstained choker. Until You we're interrupted by the sudden roar of thunder. "Ugh. How irritating.." He then pulled away from you to look back at his 'masterpiece' "Lets head back through the way to tenshukaku darling. Then im sure you wont have to worry about anyone else~" you smiled at his suggestion, only to be startled by the sudden drop of rain. You turned and kneel'd down to open your pastel bag. It had a small umbrella inside, plushies, snacks, 1 energy drink and your empty sowing kit. You pulled out the small umbrella, sighing at your empty kit. Meanwhile, Scara was still in a daze. Wondering if one day he could show you his work within the fatui personally. You nervously tapped his shoulder. to which he immediately turned around to. "Hm? Whats that love?" the water and blood began to mix, draining down his overshirt. "…I brought an umbrella just incase..Do you want to walk together Sca- Kuni?" A warm smile appeared on his face. It was rare, but something about the way he'd smile would always warm your heart. It was a pure and innocent smile as if he never committed the 100s of atrocities he's done. He took the umbrella out of your hand and wrapped his arm around your waist. Holding you close while guiding throughout the path to tenshukaku.

You walked through the city again while getting a couple of stares and laughs over how kuni looked, making you cling onto him even more. The anxious pit in your chest felt as if it subsided a little. It was still their and it wasnt easy tuning it all out but you felt a mysterious comfort with kuni around. //The two of you first met at ogura muro's kimono shop as you we're browsing for dark sakura patterns to use as doll fabric. Your hoodie was still over your head. "Excuse me? Do you mind helping me pick out some fabrics. A friend of mine also has a interest in those colors you have but.. I cant seem to know which one is right." He smiled but you didnt reply. The counter woman giggled.

"Sorry dear, Y/N always has her headphones on." She smiled. 'So it is her.' Kuni thought. He already knew who you were beforehand but never intervened. He looked at your beautiful choice of style. In inazuma their rarely was any unique styles of clothing, being deemed as inappropriate. but he couldnt get over how astonishing you looked. from your stockings with little hearts that matched your black footwear, to your cute sanrio trinkets and keychains along your bag.

Fantasizing over the two of you walking throughout inazuma in matching outfits, exchanging tastes in music, or even coming to your house for dinner. He wanted you from the beginning. You lived in his head rent free while he was in schneznaya for a year. It pained wondering anxiously if something happened to you due to the laws. He wasnt the best artist but to calm his worries during breaks on missions he'd draw pictures of you in his clothes and the wet fantasys he'd have of helping you take them off.//

You browsed through your phone, hoping to distract yourself from directed stares. "Hmm. Your being awfully kind arent you? Im surprised you didnt let me walk in the rain myself." he looked down at you while you scrolled through your gallery of dolls. Tuning out his words just as you first met. Eventually walking past ogura mio at her textiles and kimono shop, You tugged at scara's shirt. Then pointed to the shop. "Of course, darling." You rushed with a smile on your face. Searching through layers of fabric while he was amused with your 'childish' reactions. After finally picking out things you liked, you walked towards the counter hoping to see Ms Ogura again. After all..It has been 3 years since Kuni kept you. Your smile turned to a frown after realizing she wasn't there. Her daughter, Mura Mio was lazily taking care of the family business. Headphones in ears and reading manga "Um..Excuse me.." Mura didnt reply, mearly looking you up and down with a tsk then turning back to her book. The pit swirled in your chest from the awkwardness. You held the cloth and thread in your hand then walked back to kuni. He looked up at your grim eyes and immediately put his cold hand on your shoulder, Bringing you back under the umbrella. "Whats wrong baby? They didnt have anything you wanted? I thought this was your favorite store." You looked down. "...l-lets just go home kuni...its closed." Kuni then gave the umbrella to you and walked back towards the store after looking then seeing mura. "N-no kuni its fine lets just go home please-" You shieled your face in embarrassment, Hoping he wouldnt make a scene.

He walked up to Mura's desk. Watching her look him up and down. "Hi welcome to ogura-" she glanced behind him to read the sign but saw you. Realizing the both of you had similar outfits on, She sighed again. "I dont know why your girlfriend had to send you in here to make a scene." Kuni leaned over the counter, resting one of his hands on it. "Are you deaf or just stupid?" "Ugh- Excuse me?!" Mura leaned back in her chair as he got closer to her uncomfortably. "My Wife, wanted to buy something from this-" He looked at the run down markings in the floor. "Store. But you act like you cant do your own fucking job-" Mura cut kuni off. "i dont even want to work here, And i dont really care what that…other freak is to you, and-" She bit her tounge. A faint smell of metal began to come from kuni. "What? You Dont have anything else to say to this Freak?" Blood countined to drip down his choker, Pattering onto the pages of her manga. Mura shivered as the metalic smell and taste from her tongue overwhelmed. She looked down at the picture then back at the male. His indigo eyes then began to glow with a purple tint, disappointingly looking at mura. "Humans like you truly are pathetic, A complete waste of space." Mura froze in fear as Kuni began walking around the counter and towards her. Still stuck in her chair. "You act tough and degrade a person behind their back or even to their face, Yet When I come around, People like you regret ever being like this to my darling." "P-please..i-..Im sorry. T-take whatever you want from the store! Bring her in and!-" "Orders? Hah. Your telling me what to do with my love? You sure have a mouth to run dont you? How about…I cut it? Watch you choke on your own sloppy-" He stopped talking to look back at his darling, sitting at another dango stall with the umbrella and eating. 'My love, Your so precious. Too delicate for this world. Why did you leave me? Dont you remember when we first met here' At the sudden thought he then remembered that this was ogura's daughter. The glow in his eyes faded, he walked throughout the store picking out things similar to the items you chose. loving how humans would fear him. Especially after an act like Mura's. He still paid for what he bought out of respect for Ogura since you actually cared about the woman. He looked back at Mura. Both knowing her demise.

Kuni walked towards you sitting with your umbrella closed, The rain finally stopped. "My love~" You shuddered at the sudden call. Internally sighing that the nice silence you had was over "Y-yes kuni?" "What do you even need this shi- this stuff for anyway? Do you make clothes or something?" He looked through the bags then glanced at your now starlit eyes. "Oh! i- i like making dolls. Even customizing! Some of the keychains on my bag I made them too! S-sorry if its a boring hobby.. I know hobbys are for 'idle bodys' as you'd say." He flashed the bags in your face, Insistingly. "Take it and have fun." "W-what..?" "I said, Take it and have fun. Do i have to repeat myself?" He sighed as you giggled and looked through the bag. "Back when I was kubuki- I mean, Traveling. I met a boy, A fledgling just out of the nest..He gave me a doll he made that looked just like me." He then sucked his teeth after realizing he started to get emotional. Reaching to comfort his eyes until you ambushed him with a hug. You didn't know why you hugged him, Countless thoughts we're telling you not to after he kidnapped you, killed your entire family and livelyhood but you didnt listen. staining your beautiful outfit against his bloodstained clothes. While the bags buckled against his back as you wrapped your arms around him. He immediately pulled you into a kiss. Ignoring the now tolerable taste of dango. "Your mine Y/n." Your heart swelled, falling into Kunikuzushi's trance once again.

"Turns out this Mura chick fled out to sumeru, Sucks.. She's kinda hot." Childe Breezed through the papers while the boat rocked. "Wouldn't expect anything less from you Childe, In love with the weak. Explains why your the 11th." Scara turned in his seat. Looking as the view of the tallest point of the academia was visible through the ocean waves. "Hey, At least ill be sure the one I have really loves me~ I wont have to go through any extra killing or-" "Living off of lies wont do you any good Childe, This is why your still single." Childe laughed 'thats ironic' he thought. "Comrad its called, Waiting for the right one. Besides, being this rude wont give you a free month of me doing your missions so you can hang out with y/n!!" he poked scara's shoulder as the boat rocked again, Making his hat tipple over a bit. "Do me a favor childe." "Sure comrade!" "Jump off the boat." "Aw cmon kuni, be nice. 3 more weeks with me will be fast." Kuni then glanced down at the electro crest on his fatui uniform, And the dangling feather his mom gave him when he was first born. He swore he'd never take it off, Along with the mini doll keychain you gave of him. Kuni was pouting as his hat was halfway hanging onto his head, Unlike the one the little boy gave him, it was if he was smiling this time, Human emotion. Something he'd only show for you. He smiled then looked back at childe.

"I look forward to that."

Authors note/ Thank you for reading if you made it this far :) Ive been posting off and on because I still have responsibilities, but summer is here babes so im free! Have a great day everyone :)

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repurpose-yourself · 6 months

Text

Three Years + Forever | Fleeting Humanity

Grunts and moans echoed throughout a small apartment. Though loud and pronounced, the sounds never extended beyond the brick walls. It had started merely 10 minutes ago, not long after a worn pair of black sandals had been licked clean and neatly placed by the front door.

Patches of saliva left the surfaces moist but free of debris. Even with the ceiling fan spinning above, the enhanced airflow did little to advance drying. The young bottom had done a good job tonight. Mr. Torres' sandals were ready for another use. And for it, the twink's ass would be set ablaze by the advances of a well hung, 46-year-old man.

It disgusted the living sandals beyond no end to violated by a man's tongue like that. A little over a year ago, the former human named Lane had been the one to receive Diego's loads. A misguided decision brought upon by an ultimatum left the living footwear with little choice - either say goodbye to enticing wide size 11 feet or take a permanent role at them. Unable to part with the hardened soles, Lane made a choice the former human quickly regretted.

Diego feared his wife might become wise to the one-sided relationship of tongue foot cleanings and blow jobs the man had with Lane. To silence any chances, Diego opted for new footwear, leaving Lane unable to spill the secret. But months afterwards, Mr. Torres couldn't go without his side action and easily picked up a replacement, with the added benefit of another hole to shove his dick into.

The living footwear resented Diego for this, especially the bottom. But just as much as the former human hated it, love for the man’s demanding feet remained strong. By now, Diego's feet were perfectly imaged in the sandals, offering superior comfort manufactured footwear couldn't provide. Matching the curves of the man’s soles did little to stifle the pain, though. Just like day one, being plowed into the hard ground remained painful and disorienting.

But, being stomped on and abused wasn't the worst part. It was the psychological issues presented to the sandals that hurt the most. The former college student's home was next to Diego's. That meant seeing Lane's mother and father at times. Without them knowing their flesh and blood had become the surface Diego walked on, after a year of being missing, Lane was formally declared dead.

Diego hid Lane's situation well, even though it was essentially out in the open for anyone to see. He played along with the parents' plight, giving them hope in finding Lane and lending a hand searching for the college student permanently stuck to his feet.

Eventually these attempts to locate Lane became less and then none at all. The two lost hope and started coming to terms with Lane never returning home. After legally being declared dead, they held a service and buried a symbolic casket in the cemetery. While the former human wasn't part of those services, since Mr. Torres dressed up, Diego did return to the gravesite later and walk all over it with the living sandals hugging his feet.

Eventually Lane's parents moved away. Diego helped them pack, using their missing son as proper foot support lifting heavy boxes and moving furniture. The former human cried internally at all of this, especially watching from the hot street surface as the moving truck and its parents drove away, all while Diego waved goodbye.

With only Mr. Torres' wide feet for company and family, the living sandals could do nothing more than simply exist in a lust filled state that felt wrong but also very right. The very man that wrecked the former human's life gave the sandals purpose but also destroyed it further with the natural degradation footwear goes through.

After 30 minutes of hard pounding, Diego finally blew and cleaned up. Every visit was transactional. No love. Just use and pleasure. The twink was filled with cum and in need of a plug.

Nothing more but always less, if Diego decided so.

Before long, Diego appeared and jammed his sweaty feet into the sandals. The living footwear winced in pain as the titan's soles sunk into the abused leather vessels. As he grabbed the door handle to leave, Diego turned back to the twink who stumbled out of the bedroom, still sore from taking it.

"This place needs to be cleaned better if you want me to come by again. Got it?" Diego said sternly, digging his toes painfully into the sandals.

"Yes sir," the bottom replied immediately.

Mr. Torres promptly left the small apartment and stomped to his vehicle. A text message from his wife awaited him, asking if he would be home soon after spending the evening out with the boys. Knowing his reason for being out was nothing more than an excuse, he replied back and took off from the apartment. Another message appeared shortly after, with one emoji the two used to depict sex.

Immediately Diego got hard again thinking about sex with his wife. This translated to heavy pounding against the foot pedals, leaving the living footwear withering in pain and wishing to have its former life back...

This is a sequel to the older story Three Years + Forever.

#inanimate object #inanimate tf #inanimate transformation #consensual tf #unaware tf #shoe tf #nonconsensual tf

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darthvashtique93 · 13 days

Text

A Cosmos In The Sand

Chapter 20

Jason and Jhon strolled past the guards, unbothered. "I guess Damyan was right about the disguises," Jhon whispered to Jason.

"Hush," Jason silenced him. "Over here," he motioned with his head towards a stairwell. "Viktor said this would lead us to them." Jhon nodded as he followed Jason down the stairs. They came across zero guards as they walked down the narrow hallway.

They stopped walking when they reached a hallway with a locked door at the end. "Okay," Jason whispered, "I'll lay the powder, you get the evil sorceress' family."

"She isn't evil," Jhon tossed over his shoulder as he walked to the dungeon door. Taking the padlock in his hand, Jhon easily crushed it like it was nothing. The door was made of thick, acacia wood covered in some sort of thick dusting. Jhon looked down at the palm of his hand. It was coated with a violet-blue dusting. "Iolite," he mumbled. Jhon then pulled the huge door open.

The room was large – there were at least 20 different cells that Jhon could see. Each had its own set of chains and cuffs. Through the walls, Jhon could see several small bodies curled up into little balls. Soft whispers floated through the chamber. "Hello?" Jhon called out, his voice boomed in the quiet dungeon. "Uh…hi," he continued when he received no answer. "My name is Jhon. Um…I come in peace." He slowly walked deeper into the room. "Your oldest sister, Raven, sent me to free you." Jhon saw a pair of vibrant, bright, almost glowing green eyes peek out from one of the cells before immediately disappearing once more. "I'm a friend," he tried again, "of Raven's." Jhon heard the sound of little feet behind him. Holding up both of his arms, he slowly turned around. Two little girls - twins, no older than five, looked up at him with large blues eyes that, too, glowed in the dark. "Hey," Jhon smiled at them softly before slowly bending down to their level. "I'm Jhon." He took in their pale and dirty faces and the sackcloth covering their bodies. He also noted the lack of footwear. His smile wavered just a little as a surge of hatred for Slaede momentarily overtook him. "I'm Jhon," he smiled, arms still up, "what's your name?"

One of the little girls reached a tiny hand out to Jhon while gripping her sister's hand. Jhon stared at her confused. Her soft hand then landed on his face, and his world spun. Scenes from his life flashed in front of his eyes at an alarming speed. A sharp pain shot through his head. "Ow!" he exclaimed, falling backwards. What just happened? He looked at the two girls whose eyes were glowing white. "Uh…" The white glow faded, and their eyes returned to their unnatural, neon blue color. One of the twins said something in a language Jhon did not understand, but she was looking behind past him. Jhon slowly turned his head. His eyes widened as he saw the number of little girls with glowing green, purple, blue, and pink eyes appear from the other cells. There were at least 14 little girls. If Jhon had to guess he would say the oldest one was maybe 10-11 years old. Jhon slowly stood to his feet as they all came closer, staring at him curiously.

The tallest one, the one who was most likely the oldest, stepped forward and scanned him from head to toe with her bright pink eyes. Jhon took a step back. He didn't know what was happening, but whatever the twins did to his head, he didn't want it happening again. "Xenevra," the girl pointed to herself.

"Huh?" Jhon said.

"Xen-e-vra," she said, punctuating each syllable. "Xen-e-vra."

"Oh," understanding dawned on Jhon. "Xenevra is your , Xenevra, I'm Jhon. It's nice to meet you," he held his hand up to wave. The girls' response was immediate. They backed away and hid behind Xenevra, while Xenevra glared menacingly at his hand. "Oh no," Jhon withdrew his hand with a chuckle, "no. It's a wave, a wave," he explained with a bright smile, "it's how my people say 'hi'."

"Hi," Xenevra pointed to him. "Xenevra," she pointed to herself.

"Oh, no no no no no no," Jhon shook his head and hands. "I'm Jhon. Jhon. J-hon."

"J-hon?" Xenevra repeated with a raised brow.

"Uh…close enough," Jhon muttered. They needed to get moving.

"Jhon!" Jason called from behind, startling the girls who cowered behind Xenevra who held her arms out protectively. "Woah!" Jason exclaimed when he saw the amount of girls. "What? Who are all these…" he pointed to the girls.

"This is Xenevra," Jhon pointed to the girl who was piercing Jason with an angry look hot enough to melt metal.

"Why is she looking at me like that?" Jason scowled at her.

"These are Raven's sisters," Jhon answered Jason's first question.

"You mean she was telling the truth?" Jason said in shock.

"Come on," Jhon rolled his eyes. "Help me get them out of here."

It took Jason and Jhon 10 minutes to corral 14 girls, not because the girls were misbehaving, but because of the language barrier. Neither had any idea what the girls were saying, and the girls didn't understand them either. Moreover, whatever trauma the girls had been through had left them weary. They were clearly terrified of the much larger men, and it took a lot of coaxing on Jason and Jhon's part. Jhon ended up with one giggling girl on his back and one twin in each arm, while Jason too had a small girl on his back and one girl in his arms. Jason struggled to keep up with Jhon, who was able to take the stairs two at a time.

Once they reached the main floor, Jason placed the girl in his arms on the floor and motioned for the girl on his back to get down. "Get them out of here," he ordered Jhon. "I'm going to light the fuse."

"Got it," Jhon nodded once, before taking off. The girls followed him. They had only gone a couple of feet when Xenevra sprinted to the other side of the hall and began pounding on a door. "Shh! Hey! You! Stop!" Jhon whispered loudly. "You have to stop!" Xenevra ignored him as her pounding grew louder. She then began yanking on the door handle. "Damn it!" Jhon swore loudly and rushed over to Xenevra. "I swear to all of the god," Jhon muttered, "if there are coats in here, I'm going to…oh." He stared into the small room in shock. There were at least 5 women chained to walls in various state of disarray. One looked like she was going to give birth at any second. Xenevra pushed past Jhon and ran to the farthest woman, throwing her arms around the woman's neck, crying into her. A couple of the older girls filed in and ran to the other women. Jhon looked down at girls in his arms who didn't budge, and then he looked at the four girls who were hanging onto his legs. He slowly entered the room and saw two or three of the women looking at the girls around him lovingly. They're the mothers, he realized. Returning his gaze to the girls who stared at the scene blankly, Jhon realized these girls probably didn't recognize their mother.

A loud BOOM coupled with the floor shaking snapped Jhon back into the present. Right, we're taking the castle. He rushed into the room and immediately went to work on the chains, releasing the captured women. "Thank you," the woman he assumbed was Xenevra's mother thanked him.

"Oh, good," Jhon sighed. "We can understand each other. This place is about to be flooded with Slaede's guards. We need to move. Now." Xenevra's mom nodded and herded the girls to her, speaking in their language. "Okay," Jhon put his hands together, "let's go." He turned on his heel, took one step out the door, and froze. "Ah crap," he scowled. Could this night get any worse?

"Well, well, well," a female figure emerged from the shadows with a sadistic smile on her face, a dagger twirling in her hand. "I knew something was up," she scoffed. "All the focus is on the explosion and stable fire. I assume Hippolyta and her whores are about to pounce on Slaede's stupid, idiotic, pathetic soldiers."

"Mara," Jhon greeted.

"Jhon, you've grown handsome," she licked her lips and growled, "I may just keep you…after I kill Damyan, of course."

"Let the women and children go," Jhon said. "They've been through enough."

"I couldn't care less about Slaede's whores and bastards. I want Damyan," she said, pointing her sword at Jhon. "Where is he?"

"He isn't here," Jhon brandished his own weapon.

Mara smirked. "You really think you can go toe-to-toe with me?"

"He isn't alone." Jhon turned and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Jason," Mara scowled at him as he walked to Jhon's side, his own weapon drawn.

"You know where the kitchen is?" Jason asked the women. One of them nodded. "There's a secret passage behind the pantry. It'll lead you to the street, away from the fighting." The woman nodded, spoke softly to the girls, and ushered them away.

"Well," Mara drew a second blade, "this still doesn't seem fair."

"What's the matter?" Jhon asked. "Two of us too much for you to handle?"

"Trust me," Mara smirked as they began to circle each other, "I'm more than capable."

"You willing to back your words with gold?" Jason asked, shifting his stance.

"Just walk away, Mara," Jhon said, "this isn't your fight. No need for you to get hurt."

"You're cute," she smirked, "I'm going to enjoy killing you."

#robrae #demonbirds #damirae #damian x raven #robin x raven #damian al ghul x raven roth #damian wayne x rachel roth

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arosspeaksnonsense · 1 year

Text

So... I had a like, one shot fic type story idea

I probs won't be able to write it since I require full focus/dedication/attention to something when i want it to come into fruition (which is already difficult as is) and also since I have too much going on in my head and I want to do all of it, but instead I find myself doing nothing all day please god help me idk what this is called (my guess is laziness)

BUT anyways, onto the story idea

You know how ink's vials and I guess livelihood depends entirely on the creators/fandom? (Ok I guess not ENTIRE but his vials do depend on it, which is the things that essentially makes him alive.)

Well, since the fandom is not very active as it was when it was like, 2016-2017 (not saying its dead)

What if the fandom, just, dies? I mean duh its inevitable and Ink is silently pleading that the last creators hopefully won't leave but he knows its inevitable, no matter how hard he tries to make them stay, some of them already starting to give up.

The others notice ink's change in behavior and ink tells them the entire the thing and how he has only a few more time left to be alive I guess.

The others obviously distraught about this, but ink reassures them its fine, but the others weren't convinced

And then they find ink maybe sobbing or terrified as he tells them that the creators all left and are all gone and that he's probably going to go soon too.

This makes the others panic and desperately asks ink if there is another way for his vials to work, in which he sadly answers no.

they then dedicate the next few days into making sure ink is enjoying every second of the very little time he has left.

As they slowly looses all his colors one by one, eventually he looses all of them completely, which leaves them being the same emotionless, soulless skeleton he started as before.

Everyone is left in distraught and sadness

All his friends all sobbed and cried, some silently and/or internally crying, as their once lively, creative and cheerful friend, now nothing more than an empty shell of what he once were.

A hollow husk, with an emotionless and empty expression.

A painful reminder hit all of them, that they will never get that face to smile ever again. the same face that used to grin and laugh all the time.

The cheerful smile that he let out as he pranks and greets others, the lively motivations he loved giving to everyone.

The Laughs and snorts he gave out whenever he got someone in a prank, or from a joke not many understand, if any one did at all. And how when he becomes too flustered, or when too much euphoria and happiness comes flooding his feelings, he will starting to float in the air and continuously go up until the euphoria ends and they eventually go back down.

His Lips(?) Now closed and sealed shut

No sign of a tone or a voice to speak

The hands that used to paint with such freedom and care, the hands that used to make such magnificent and beautiful paintings, that gorgeously and perfectly replicate reality as if though it was reality itself. The fingers that used to dance around the flute as it made music, the hands that sew not only fabrics of clothing but also the fabrics of reality.

Gone is the passion in his hands that once were, the hands that moved freely, stuck in place.

His feet that loved to dance and move wherever it goes, exposed out to the world, lacking of any visible footwear, lacking any care where it stepped and what it was on, representing freedom and free of chains.

Both now rigid and unmoving.

His eyes, oh dear his eyes. The eyes that used to express themselves so much. So expressive that it almost made you forget he lacked the very base of every being, a soul. The eyes that so greatly showed its differing and unique shapes and colors that expressed whatever emotion they were feeling.

Now reduced into an empty and pitiful circles of white, indicating emotionless and lifelessness, no more is the eyes that burst with colors and shape, only a blank stare is what remains.

He was so empty.

It terrified and saddened everyone.

The Multiverse Was filled with sobs and cries, Silence in some

The Multiverse was crying and mourning its guardian.

Dream, Distraught, knew what he had to do.

He had only known about ink's dads when Dream had been frantically looking for Ink as he had seemingly Disappeared, only to find said skeleton in the garden with a Gaster, this one had wings.

He has watched and approached carefully, but was stopped by a loud yelled by the short skeleton

He didn't know how to respond but he only walked closer, the expression on the gaster seemed..pleasantly surprised.

Not long after, dream had found out about how he isn't the only gaster in the house but two were sharing it, and how said two are married and fathers to his short friend

It was a pleasant surprise to dream

But...this surprise..

Will not be so pleasant.

As Dream was about to grab and carry Ink, The hands that intertwined on eachother, that hands being of Inks and Errors

Speaking of the glitch, Hes...probably not going to be well after this, after all besides blue, Ink was the only one that really took the time and Effort to Understand and Befriend Error, they had a very close relationship.

Error had not let go of Ink's Hand ever since the news of his depleting life. His haphephobia suddenly gone during doing so, (or is it?? I can't tell.) But now, he doesn't seem to react, only tightening his grip and continuing to look and stare into nothingness, finally Dream spoke

"Error..?, can you..let go?? Of Ink, I feel like his father's need to see this."

"...why can't they just..come here..."

" I'm afraid Aster cannot step outside of their AU"

"...fine. But I'll with you."

"Of course."

Dream opened a portal, he slowly walks through with error, who's carrying ink bridal style.

Aster and Top has not spoken over the past few days, worry littered their mind, as the news of their little star burning itself out soon had reached their non existant ears.

They spent Time with their little star, they made sure he enjoyed and had fun every second of the time they had left with him.

Eye bags shows prominent under their eyes, they hear a knock at the door, their eyes grows surprised, wishfully hoping their little hat had come to visit them again

Aster stands up and walked towards the door, a smile on his face, as he opens the door, his smile drops,

He sees the three Skeletons, and he sees especially the star that had burnt out.

Aster simply stares and does not respond, his eyes widened.

His hands slowly reaches for Ink

And Error though hesitant, give Ink to Aster.

Aster, felt like he couldn't breathe, the little star that always shined bright, so much so it didn't seem like they were ever going to die down, and yet here he is, no longer shining, his smile and laughs and snorts gone forever.

As he holds ink, he holds his hands, tears starts to flow down his face, he remembers when he held those small hands, guide them through the dirt, when Aster was teaching ink about gardening, when Aster saw the glimmer in his eyes (oh god, he will never get to see that ever again will he?) When he was watching Aster show him around the Garden, offering to show him how to grow beautiful flowers. He so excitedly followed every step so cautiously, contradicting Aster's Expectation of many mess up.

As he held into ink's tiny hands, the hands that he teached to learn many things, that he teached to not used his power so much.

He cried, he cried for ink, he cried for his child, his baby, his star.

And behind Aster, walks Top.

Eyes widened, eyes filled with tears.

There he saw his son, the little outcode that slithered their way into his life and affection, on the arms of his beloved, dead and empty,

Memories flashed as Top slowly made his way to his family. The tiny sans that laughed, smiled and cheered everyone around him, The tiny sans that was so tiny, Top's hat almost covered over half of their face, the tiny face that loved to tell stories and show paintings to their parents. His son, Ink, Dead and Empty in the Arms of his Husband.

It hit them, Ink is an outcode, he never belonged to a Universe, not in any AU, they can't just reset and reverse this like with aster or with any other sans, he truly and utterly gone.

The screams and cries of the Two Fathers, The Guardian of the Positivity, and the God of Destruction could be heard and felt throughout the entire Multiverse.

The Multiverse will never be the same.

But, at least Ink died happily with family, friends that cared for him, that stayed with him no matter his ways, his condition.

That will never forget him.

And to him it is enough.

The Multiverse Felt Empty.

#NOOOOOOO I BET ON LOSING DOGS BY MITSKI WAS PLAYING AS I WAS WRITING INK'S DADS PART #THE TIMING #ahem #anyways angst #ink angst #specifically #ink sans #utmv #undertale #ink!sans #inktale #utau #undertaleau #error sans #undertale multiverse #errorink #i might expand it on ao3 but have this for now

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idolatrybarbie · 3 months

Text

lbs!marcus masterlist

pairing: marcus pike x fem!reader

word count & rating: 1.9k | explicit - minor free zone!

summary: marcus loves you. you love him.

warnings: smut - oral sex (f receiving), sweetness, it's pretty straightforward. thee final installment of you and marcus in fairfax county, va.

You unstrap yourself from your shoes before you even get out of the car. Heels in hand, you pad across the still-frozen ground to the front door. It’s already unlocked, letting you twist the knob and open the door easily. The low buzz of a power drill whines from the shadowy living room, lamps casting a white-yellow glow down the hall to make up for the lack of an overhead fixture.

You left Marcus this morning with a couple pieces of unbuilt Ikea furniture. He decided that a Wednesday in mid-January was the perfect time to use a vacation day and build it all for you. Clearly, he’s still at it. You leave the skyscraper stilettos on the floor beside the coat rack, walking down the hall as a smile paints itself across your face. He is still in his Houston Astros shirt, grey sweatpants shifting as Marcus moves from sitting to kneeling over the small shelf he’s working on.

The floor creaks beneath you, alerting him to your presence.

“Hey babe,” he says, turning to look at you.

“Hey. How’s it going?”

“Almost done with this. I’ve got a few more screws, and she’ll be all done.”

You love that Marcus refers to things as if they were some grand sea ship, calling everything from the air fryer to this cheap hunk of plywood ‘she.’

“How was work?” Marcus asks.

“Fine. Same old.” Taking another step towards him, you wince. Marcus’ face morphs into a look of concern. “Those heels did a number on me, though.”

You haven’t worn much other than athletic footwear for the last nine months. Comfortable sneakers, supportive running shoes. High heels are the exact opposite of both those things. Not to mention, that specific pair is on the brink of falling apart. But they look so cute, you couldn’t help yourself.

Marcus stands, taking you into his arms. He presses a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Let me make you feel better,” he says.

“Marcus, you’ve been working all day,” you say.

“I sat on my ass for two hours watching that political fixer show of yours, which is why I’m not done yet,” Marcus tells you, shaking his head. “I’m fine. You’re not.”

“I’m fine, too.” Yet when you step back, a hiss slithers past your lips.

“You’re not,” he says again. “It’s no trouble. I want to.”

He’s already in your head, reading all the thoughts that pass through. You don’t want to hassle him. It’s no big deal. So on and so forth. He gives you a heart-melting stare, eyes round with softness.

You say, “Okay, yeah,” and he’s practically scooping you into his arms.

Marcus leads you up the stairs to your room with instructions to get on the bed. Laying flat on the mattress takes the pressure off your spine, your body flooding with relief. Marcus gets on his knees, kneeling at the end. He takes one of your feet into his hands, resting it in his lap before he starts to rub at the skin.

He gently works his fingers over your foot, thumb digging into your arch. You sigh at his touch, relaxing further into the pillows. Marcus soothes the ache in your first metatarsal with easy pressure. Standing at an incline for almost ten hours has done a number on your joints, the pain melting away as he continues his massage. You roll your ankle when he moves onto the next foot.

Opening your eyes, you’re quick to notice how Marcus stares at you. Your legs, specifically, thighs wrapped in sheer brown nylon. He looks like a kid on Christmas morning, enraptured, ready to tear you open.

“Like what you see, handsome?” you ask.

“Hmm?” Marcus hums, eyes back on your face in an instant.

“You’re staring at my thigh highs.”

“A man can’t appreciate his girl’s excellent taste in fashion?” he asks.

You remove your foot from his grasp, pressing your toes into the center of his chest. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Marcus Pike has a bit of a stocking fetish.”

At your words, Marcus’ ears grow pink. His whole face is flushed, eyes crinkling as he smiles awkwardly. Realization dawns on you as he reaches to scratch the back of his neck, the conversation effectively dying. He does. You’ve caught him in a net of terrible awkwardness, laying here at an impasse.

“Marcus…”

“I know it’s weird,” he says.

“What? No,” you say. Sitting up, you shake your head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“You’re alright.”

“I don’t think it’s weird,” you assure him.

“Seriously?” Marcus asks.

“Of course not. I wouldn’t lie to you about that.”

Both kneeling before each other, you take his hand and drag it to the side of your leg. The synthetic fabric slips under his fingers. Feeling the texture of the nylon and your soft skin just beneath it stirs something in him. Pressing closer, you feel him hard against your hip.

You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him deep and slow. His hands take their place at either side of you, sliding from the stockings up beneath your skirt. Marcus squeezes your ass, palming at you for a moment. Then he slips a finger beneath your underwear, pulling the elastic away from your body only to have it snap in place again.

“What do you want?” you ask, lips right by his ear.

“You,” he whispers. Hands at your waist now, he hugs you impossibly closer. Marcus ruts his hips into yours, breathing heavy. “Fuck…please.”

“If you want me, you have me,” you say.

Marcus pushes you back onto the bed with a little force, following you down. He meets you at the mouth, kissing you before trailing off to your cheek. He presses his lips against your jaw, down to your neck and collarbone. Through the material of your top, he kisses at your chest. Marcus bypasses your torso to mouth at the place where the bottom hem of your shirt and the cotton waistline of your skirt meet. He pulls your shirt up where it’s tucked against your stomach, kissing your belly. You giggle when he licks at the skin, tongue warm.

“Have I ever told you how much I love your new job?” he mumbles into your stomach.

“Hmmm. A little bit,” you say. Marcus nips at the skin over your ribs, making his way up your chest. You gasp quietly, continuing, “Said something about…you like seeing me happy at work.”

“Only part of it,” he says. Marcus has your shirt pushed up to your throat, bra on display for him. He slides a hand beneath you to unclasp the back. It releases from your body easily, letting him push it up and away from your breasts. You’re sure you look ridiculous swamped with clothes at the neck, but Marcus doesn’t seem to notice or care. He’s mesmerized with the pattern of your skin.

“What’s the other part, then?” you ask, trying to keep a straight face as he gently pinches at one of your nipples.

“You wear all these cute little outfits…the skirts, the stockings, the heels.” Leaning over, Marcus takes that nipple into his mouth, sucking harshly.

“You like the clothes?”

“You look so good. I can’t help myself. Just wanna—” He interrupts himself, resting his face in the valley between your breasts. Marcus takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of you. “Just wanna bend you over the kitchen counter when I see you get home, take you right then and there.”

“Yeah?” you ask. Rubbing your thighs together does little to relieve the growing ache between them. Picturing your cheek laying against the cool countertop as Marcus hikes up your skirt at a moment’s notice is dangerous. “We should try it out sometime.”

Marcus pauses for a split second, brain registering what you’ve said.

“You’re going to kill me,” he says.

His fingers work to find the clasp of your skirt, unlatching it. Marcus pulls down the zipper at the side of your hip, bringing your underwear down with the other fabric. He follows the line of your leg with his nose as the bottoms slide off your body, getting all the way off the bed and onto the floor with your discarded clothes.

You sit up, both to watch him and to rid yourself of your shirt and bra. Fully undressed now, you note the contrast between his clothed body and yours, starkly nude. Heat creeps through your tummy, wetness reaching the inside of your thighs. You feel like a gift freshly unwrapped; a gourmet cake too good to eat as he regards you with that look. Marcus stares up almost reverently. This man would worship at your altar. You wouldn’t even have to ask.

He leaves your stockings on, nosing against your tibia. Light licks against the skin of your ankle make you shiver. Marcus kisses his way up your left leg, nuzzling the crook of your knee. He rests his chin against your kneecap, eyes focused as he watches you watch him.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

“Today, or in general?”

“Every day,” he says, pressing a kiss to your thigh. “All day, all of the time.”

His hands inch closer to the middle of your body, fingers feather-light across the swell of skin. Marcus rejoins you on the bed, kisses getting firmer as he reaches level with your cunt. He leaves another kiss to your pelvis, readjusting to drag his tongue against your cunt.

You rub at his shoulders absently, one hand moving sidelong up his neck before fingers twine in his hair. You gasp when he nips at you, catching you off guard with a hint of teeth. You pull at his dark brown strands; Marcus groans against at the feeling. He pushes you further with the slip of a finger inside, gentle but insistent alongside his laps at your clit.

It doesn’t take long for him to have you twisting in bed, gasps stuttering as you tighten your thighs around the sides of his head. He brings you to the very edge before pulling back. Marcus noses at the crease of your thigh, finger smearing against the outer part of your hip as he holds you.

“I thought you were supposed to be making me feel better,” you sigh.

“What if I just like to take my time?” Marcus asks.

“Then I’d have to tell you to hurry it up.”

It’s all in fun. Any sense of pain from earlier has disappeared, Marcus’ soft touch drawing it from you easily. Still, your words spur him on. His finger slips back inside you, middle finger joining Marcus’ index. That little bit more, the faster pace he sets along with the slide of his tongue has you at the edge again in minutes.

He stops when you push him away, thighs twitching, breath ragged. In the time you’ve been with Marcus, you have learned that this is his favourite part. Still hard in his sweatpants, sure, but sated and satisfied. He mouths gently at the slope of your stomach, your hand at the nape of his neck.

Marcus sticks his tongue in your belly button, making you groan.

“You’re so weird,” you say.

“You weren’t complaining like, three minutes ago.”

“Different. You know it’s different.”

“Hmmm,” Marcus hums. He keeps his head halfway between your gut and your lap, breathing slow. “I love you.”

“I know.” He flicks you, hip smarting with the scratch. “I love you too.”

“That’s good.”

He’s right. It is.

#marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist #the mentalist fanfiction #marcus pike x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #fic: lover be sweet

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rinbowaman · 11 months

Text

HHP SMAU Drabble "Going Viral" Part 3 SMUT/MDNI18+ *Requested*

.....whoa...

Warnings: Like literally everything. Rough and somewhat non-con vibes, dub-con, foodie smut, dirty talk....yeah. EDIT: THIS CONTENT CONTAINS AN ACT OR SCENE WHERE Y'N IS INSERTED WITH A FOREIGN SUBSTANCE (NOT OBJECT) SO PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

not proofread so pls ignore the mistakes. and again.....whoa.....that's all i'm going to say.

Perking up a brow, you felt his arm tighten around your waist. Tucking in his lips, he lowly chuckles while he reaches up with his other hand to caress your cheek.

"Undress me...NOW."

You nod your head and obeyed, you knew by the tone of his voice and the way he emphasized every other word that he was not in a mood to play around, nor was he feeling lenient in forgiving you so easily. Most of the time when you do frustrate him, he somewhat found it adorable and wouldn't be too awful mad....but this time, you crossed the line.

Even though it was an accident, there was one thing that you always knew, which was the reason why you strongly forced the issue when telling the girls to not upload the video with you in it, it was all because of Heeseung (and Ethan's) possessiveness towards you. You were their territory, therefore, only he can appreciate and gaze up on parts of you and certain acts. No one else.

Beginning with his long sleeve, which had already been left unbuttoned to reveal the form fitting t-shirt, which had exposed the silhouette of his defined muscles on his chest. Trying to ease his anger with you, you roamed your hands over his pecks in a tender manner. Leaning in, your hands migrate to pull the long sleeve over his shoulders, dragging it down to his elbows and through his hands as you peel it off completely.

"Hmph." he scoffs a smirk. "Go ahead...I appreciate the effort but that doesn't negate the fact that you fucked up." his tone was stern and lacked any compassion as you watched the smirk disappear, only an irritated expression is reflected through what you could see beneath the bill of his hat.

Gulping, you continued, even though he made it clear that, despite you being sweet in your manner towards undressing him, he wasn't going to let you off that easily.

He assisted in taking off his t-shirt but lifting it over his head and cap. Next were his jeans, which you had unbuttoned and started to unzip, slowly. Pulling it down, he places his hand atop of your head and gives a slight push...emphasizing for you to get on your knees as his jeans travel further down.

"Shoes too." he simply remarks. There you kneel in the nude, practically groveling on the floor as you untie his Vans and take them off for him. Grabbing on to his ankle, you indicate for him to lift his foot by admitting a slight tug. He chuckles as he lifts one right after the other, watching you take off the footwear along with his socks. RIght after, you removed his jeans completely. Standing up, you reach up for his cap when his hand suddenly snags your wrist, pulling you into him, lips touching but no kiss was presented.

"Nope!" he snaps out with that smirk re-appearing. "Hat stays on, babydoll."

Raising your eyebrows in a peculiar state, you nodded slightly as switches his grip on your wrist, swapping his hands.

Now that his strong hand was free, he reaches over to his side and grabs onto the chocolate syrup, popping open the cap with his mouth, spitting out the plastic wrapping off to the side, with heavy lids he drizzles his chest, his groin, and his dick with the confectionary ingredient.

Placing the bottle down after administering it all over his front side, he looks at you as he tightens his grip on your wrist.

"Now lick it all off."

You hesitated at first, yet the moment he tugged on your wrist and tightened his grip even further, causing you to wince in pain, you quickly lost all forms of hesitation and fortitude to stand your ground.

So...you did what he told you to do.

Starting with his chest, you licked the contours of every muscle his perfect frame outlined. There were even some that got on his neck, his Adams Apple specifically. You lean in and licked it tenderly, watching as he tilted his head far back exposing his thick neck and slowly gaping his mouth open.

"Yep...keep going." he deeply lets out as his mouth faced the ceiling.

You couldn't deny it, watching him moan in pleasure due to your act made encouraged you to do more, you did after all, love the man. It wasn't his fault that you pissed him off.

Little did you know....this was just the beginning. You still had Hell to pay, and your delighted state came too soon.

Reaching down to his shaft, your tongue coated with the syrup as his chest and groin was left with traces of the content, swirled over his skin, you lick his length from tip to base, causing him to moan out.

Despite licking it clean, you took it upon yourself to start sucking on him, since you were finding yourself extremely aroused by his reaction. Again, your delight came way too soon.

The moment you felt his hand behind your head, pushing you inward towards him, pressing your nose against his skin while taking in not just a mouthful, but stuffing your entire throat with his full nine inches of skin, muscle, and girth. The corners of your mouth felt as if they were ripping apart as you tried to adjust taking in his circumference, which only gotten thicker at the base.

Choking and gagging as he rests inside your mouth, of course it wasn't by your choice as you plaster your palms against his thigh and pelvis, trying to push yourself away yet his hand behind your head expelled too much strength that overpowered you.

Finally, not a moment too soon, you feel his hand releasing, allowing you to retract immediately. Coughing, gagging, and trying to regain your breathing, built up loads of saliva and chocolate syrup escape your wide open mouth, drooling down your chin, chest, and breasts.

Your eyes were burning with the tears that were caused by the great discomfort you just experienced. Normally when you did perform oral sex, no matter if it was Heeseung or his Ethan side, the most roughness he displayed was all after acknowledging your pace and comfort levels, maybe pushing it a little, but not to this extent. God only knows that the man has fucked your face countless times, some were slow and passionate, others were fast and animalistic, yet this was the first time that on a whim, he filled you and dipped into your throat so harshly.

"Okay...my turn." He glares down as he states his words.

Taking the bottle of chocolate syrup, he doesn't even wait for you to stand up from your knees before drizzling it all over your breasts.

"Stick your fucking tongue out..." he smoothly commands you. With teary and red eyes, you did just as he told you to.

The taste of the sweet syrup making contact with your tongue somewhat soothed and distracted you from the slight bit of soreness you were feeling in your throat. Placing the bottle aside, he grabs the can of whipped cream.

"Stand up."

Extending your posture, you stood up. His hand reaches over and grabs your neck, applying just a slight bit of pressure as he simultaneously pulls you in at viper speed, having you just an inch away from his face.

"Keep your mouth open." Taking the can, he sprays the whip cream in your mouth, before you could even process the sweetness of the cream, he immediately throws the can off to the side and places his other hand on your cheek as he envelops you in a devouring kiss, smearing the cream over the corners of your mouth as the exchanging of saliva, cream, and tongue massage renders you to a shaking status.

While still keeping you locked within his mouth, he pushes you back as he takes a few steps forward, causing you to fall back on the bed with him toppling over you, still with his lips on you. Reaching over to the side table, he grabs on the syrup once more, and glares at you.

"As much as i LOVE that beautiful face of yours, i'm not in the mood for any sentimentality. Turn over." the subtle hint of shine in his matte black eyes within the shadow casted over by his cap glares down at you...he looked somewhat demonic with the way he lacked any playfulness or passion. Just irritation and anger. Yet, he still looked devilishly handsome, as much as you feared to admit it.

Your eyes begin to build up more fluid as you slowly shift around, laying on your stomach as you remained in between his legs under him.

Drizzle the syrup all over your back, your rear, and on his cock once more, you felt the sticky substance on your skin. The moment you thought he was going to lick you clean as you did him, you found that you were wrong.

HIs hands swoop under your pelvis, lifting you, primarily your rear, as he shoves his chocolate coated shaft inside you.

"Ethan!!" you gasped out.

"Uh-huh....scream out my name." He spoke as gasped out, taking a full view of your rear as he shoves himself deep into your core, watching the syrup collect off to the sides of your folds upon his entry.

Finally being inside all the way through, there was no pause as he begins pelting into you at a violently fast and rough pace.

Grabbing onto your hair, pulling your head back for you to face the ceiling, he tells you in between grunts as he fucks into you relentlessly.

"Open your mouth."

Drizzling the syrup all over your mouth, albeit getting some on your chin and the sides of your mouth as he was shifting your body with his powerful thrusts, you watch as he finishes drizzling you, before he takes the bottle and drinks out of it as if it were a water bottle, taking in a gulp of syrup. His thrusts never stopping or slowing.

Casting the bottle aside, he leans on top of you, his chest smearing the syrup on your back and on your ass as he thrusts deeply. Reaching around the side of your face, his nose drags along your cheek as he turns your face towards him, and kisses you. All you could taste was the chocolate that coated his tongue and lingered within his mouth.

Getting back up to his knees to add the strength of his momentum within his thrusts once more, he jack hammers into you, watching as the fluid mixture of your essence and his thrusts, combined with the chocolate syrup oozing out of your entry, coats and rings around his shaft.

Leaning back on top of you, this time with his phone in hand, he places the camera view in selfie mode and on video recording. Kissing you and placing his hand over your chin, he records for his own pleasure, the act that he submitted you too.

"Look at the camera babe. See how badly i'm ruining you? See it? Fuck....keeping screaming my name." he kisses your cheek, his thrusts have become faster and deeper. His tone was taunting and demeaning.

With his phone in hand, he props his chest up as he continues to record your face as the view in the background displayed bits of his penetration from behind. His free hand props his face away from the camera angle, it was just you.

"Fuck i'm going to cum...you ready?" he shakily breathes out as he starts to gasp and grunt.

Releasing inside of you, he thrusts a few more times before plunging in deeply and finishing you off for good. Taking his cap off, he tosses it to the side and ends the recording.

He places his phone down as he rests his body fully on top of you, his face nuzzled into your neck. Both you and him were a mess, covered in chocolate syrup and the wetness that excreted from your walls.

The smell of the sweet chocolate along with the essence of your body's natural production of lube, all you could think about was the image of what it must have looked from his stance, fucking into you, mixing all of the ingredients together as he thrusts the syrup inside you.

Without removing his face from the nook in your neck, his arm extends to the side, over the edge of the bed. Grabbing onto the strabwerries and cherries, he brings them over, reaching around with his other hand, he opens each container as his arms surround you and caves you in.

Taking a single strawberry, he gently presents it to your lips, his free hand collecting all of your hair and moving it over to your shoulder as he gently nudges with the tip of his nose to bite the fruit.

You take a bite, slowly, still trying to get yourself composed. Once you bit into it and began chewing, he props himself on his elbows, still leaned on top of you from behind, and gives you a smirky side eye as he bites into the same berry.

"Dont worrry...that video is just for my eyes only." he remarks as he gives a small chuckle while taking a cherry and feeding it to you.

With the weight of his frame on top of you, you turn your face to the side and look over to him, watching as he continues to give you a devilish side eye, eating the fruit. Seeing traces of both, Heeseung and Ethan, you stuttered out your words as you were still recovering.

"....it really was...an accident...i didn't mean to-"

"I know." he nods his head as he looks down at the bedding, reaching over to grab another piece of fruit, while his other hand strokes your neck.

Presenting the fruit to you yet again, you bite down while he passionately kisses against the strands that cover your ear, taking a deep inhale of the scent of your hair.

"I know it was an accident....but you still did the recording." he softly answers against your ear.

He was right...you still did the recording.

"....I'm sorry."

"Its okay baby, the sundae was worth it."

Authors note: The duality of this man i swear. one minute he's brutal...the next he's feeding you fruit.

#heeseung x reader #heeseung scenarios #heeseung smut #heeseung hard hours #enha x reader #heeseung hard thoughts #heeseung fanfic #enhypen smut #enha heeseung #enhypen hard hours

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thinkpink212 · 3 months

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As much as I love my job, I wish people would listen to me when I tell them to move more, stretch, change their footwear, get more massages or alternatives (massage machines, sticks, rollers etc) and k really just take care of themselves.

I came into the field to help people, and I can only do so much. The rest is up to everybody but it does make me sad when they in, tell me they have been in pain for months or even years for something that is preventable :/ like damn, you’re not suppose to be in pain 24/7, especially not at young ages like 18-35. I had a client who was just 17 and she has neck problems because of her phone (looking down for prolonged time), that’s too young to start having neck problems!

So yeah, please take care of yourselves. There are many free ways to do so that won’t take more then a few minutes of your time. And the reward is a less painfull body / better quality of life 🫶🏾

#massage therapist #lifestyle #thinkpink thoughts #thinkpink personal

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vexdris · 2 years

Note

Could I request Tanjiro x Reader where they just finished fighting a demon, reader is tired and kinda out of it and starts staring at Tanjiro with a smile and when he asks if they are okay, reader says “you’re pretty”

Hey! Thank you for the request, granola. I absolutely loved writing this. It's a tad short, so apologies in advance.</3

Warning/s: Fem!Reader, She/Her pronouns used

Pretty

Word count: 565

She trudged through the unexpectedly lively village, Tanjiro's calloused and rough hands in her softer ones, sensing the growing exhaustion of his friend. With each step, her body ached, knowing she'd be bedridden with sore limbs the very next morning.

The demons they were sent to face were beyond their mizunoto-level skill. It was of no doubt her and Tanjiro strived to be the best regardless of their different motives, but how were they expected to exceed other slayers of their rank, let alone becoming hashira, when they struggled to face simple demons with the help of one another? The pain shooting through her core drew her out of the self degradation, which she could only be thankful for.

"[Y/n], look!" The redhead called. God, she loved his hair color. It was gorgeous. The girl was snapped out of her thoughts once he continued, "There's an inn up ahead! I'll pay for us to spend the night so you can relax a while."

She desperately wanted to protest and be the one to give up her earnings. For her beloved friend to focus on feeding himself. But she remained silent nonetheless, knowing full well he'd ignore it, only nodding as he quickened his pace.

"Please sir, let me pay you for you troubles!" He argued, filling the man's empty hands with whatever money he had to offer at the time, all for a worn down basket and bamboo that was given to him just for the mere sake of getting rid of it.

He led her into the cozy building, holding the door open like the gentleman he was, calm ruby eyes following her tired form. Tanjiro spoke to the elderly woman upfront patiently, paying double the amount with a smile. Fully aware of his friend staring in admiration.

She was beyond grateful. Her footwear and uniform barely made it off before collapsing onto the futon below, earning a chuckle from the boy who'd already been folding his haori. [Y/n's] attention was immediately brought to him once again, rolling on her side with her head propped up against her palm.

The way he carefully set down the folded fabric and pulled himself under the covers beside his friend, catching her half-lidded gaze. She felt her stomach doing flips.

"Are you okay?" The words were at the tip of her tongue. Tanjiro rested himself in a similar manner, blinking almost comically, though in genuine concern.

The warm light of the lantern lit his features so beautifully. She wanted nothing more than to cup his face and trace every scar, every mark, every imperfection. And the thought brought the deepest shade of red to her cheeks. A goofy smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "[Y/n]?..."

"You're really pretty, Tanji."

Her words spilled so smoothly, so confidently that he was taken aback. The boy's eyes widened for a split second. And just as quickly, he too shared her growing blush, along with his own, sweet grin.

Tanjiro subconsciously reached for her free hand, intertwining their fingers and squeezing so lovingly.

"Thank you! You're extremely pretty too!"

He felt the way his heart pounded in his chest, allowing himself to rest knowing they'd come to find themselves time and time again in moments like these, listening to his friend doze off with the content expression never once leaving his face.

"And I'll make sure you never forget it."

#tanjiro x reader #demon slayer tanjiro #kny #demon slayer kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #x reader #x y/n

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mavshack1205 · 5 months

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Comfort First: Unveiling the Best Cushioned Men's Running Sneakers for Long-Distance Runs

In the world of long-distance running, one principle stands tall above the rest - comfort. The right pair of running sneakers can make or break your experience on the pavement, and nothing is more crucial than a well-cushioned sole that absorbs the impact of each stride. In this guide, we delve into the realm of comfort, unveiling the best-cushioned men’s sneakers online in India for those who dare to conquer the miles.

The Importance of Comfort in Long-Distance Running

Long-distance running is not just a physical challenge; it's a mental and emotional journey that requires dedication and resilience. However, without the right equipment, this journey can quickly become a painful ordeal. Your feet bear the brunt of every step, absorbing shock and maintaining balance. Without proper cushioning, the repetitive impact can lead to discomfort, fatigue, and even injury.

Investing in the right pair of running sneakers is an investment in your well-being as a runner. Comfortable shoes not only provide a more enjoyable running experience but also contribute to your overall performance and longevity in the sport.

The Top Contenders for Cushioned Bliss

1. Nike Air Zoom Pegasus 38

Nike has long been a powerhouse in the athletic footwear industry, and the Air Zoom Pegasus 38 is no exception. Renowned for its exceptional cushioning technology, this shoe boasts a responsive Nike React foam midsole. The Air Zoom units in the forefoot and heel add an extra layer of cushioning, ensuring a smooth and comfortable ride even during the longest runs.

2. Brooks Ghost 14

Brooks has carved a niche for itself as a brand dedicated to the science of running. The Ghost 14 continues this legacy with its BioMoGo DNA and DNA LOFT cushioning, providing a perfect balance of softness and responsiveness. The segmented crash pad adds to the plush feel, making it an ideal choice for runners seeking lasting comfort.

3. Adidas Ultraboost 21

Adidas has redefined comfort with its Ultraboost series, and the Ultraboost 21 takes it to the next level. The Boost midsole technology delivers an energy-returning cushioning that adapts to your stride, providing a personalized and comfortable fit. The Primeknit upper enhances breathability, making it a top pick for long-distance enthusiasts.

4. Hoka One One Bondi 7

Known for its maximalist approach to cushioning, Hoka One One has gained a dedicated following among distance runners. The Bondi 7 features an EVA midsole with a plush feel, offering maximum cushioning without sacrificing stability. The Meta-Rocker technology ensures a smooth and efficient roll through the gait cycle, making it an excellent choice for those seeking a comfortable, fatigue-free run.

5. New Balance Fresh Foam 1080v11

New Balance has consistently delivered reliable and comfortable running shoes, and the Fresh Foam 1080v11 is no exception. The Fresh Foam midsole provides a soft and cushioned feel, while the Hypoknit upper offers a secure fit. Whether you're a seasoned marathoner or a weekend warrior, these shoes will keep your feet comfortable mile after mile.

Choosing the Right Fit for You

While the shoes listed above are among the best-cushioned options on the market, it's crucial to remember that the perfect pair depends on individual preferences and running styles. Before making a purchase, consider the following factors:

Foot Type:

Determine your foot arch and pronation type to find a shoe that offers the right support.

Terrain:

Consider the surfaces you'll be running on. Some shoes are designed specifically for road running, while others excel on trails.

Fit:

Ensure the shoes fit snugly but not too tight. Your toes should have room to move, and there should be no excessive pressure points.

Personal Comfort:

Ultimately, the best-cushioned running shoe is the one that feels most comfortable for you. Take the time to try on different options and go for a short run or walk to assess how they feel in action.

Run without Pain, Run with Style!

In the realm of long-distance running, prioritizing comfort is not a luxury; it's a necessity. The best-cushioned men's running sneakers discussed here – the Nike Air Zoom Pegasus 38, Adidas Ultraboost 21, Brooks Ghost 14, and Hoka One One Bondi 7 – represent the pinnacle of footwear engineering, offering a harmonious blend of cushioning, support, and durability.

Remember, the right running shoe is a personal choice, and what works for one may not work for another. Take the time to try on different options, consider your running style and preferences, and invest in a pair that not only supports your feet but also motivates you to conquer those long-distance runs with confidence. After all, when it comes to running, comfort should always come first. If you are looking for affordable online shopping sites in India to buy men’s sneakers shoes online in India you can check out Mavshack live.

Embarking on a long-distance run is a feat that requires dedication, training, and the right equipment. When it comes to footwear, prioritizing comfort is non-negotiable. The best-cushioned men's running sneakers mentioned above are not just shoes; they are companions in your journey, ensuring that every step is a step toward your goals, not a painful setback. Invest in your comfort, and let the miles unfold beneath your feet with ease.

Author Profile

The author of this blog is a content writer with Mavshack Live India. Mavshack Live India is a renowned e-commerce platform selling and delivering various products all over India. Mavshack Live India offers products like Fashion, Footwear, Home Décor, and more. We have a wide product range of amazing quality at the most affordable prices. One of their most selling products is shoes in the men’s section in which they have the best running sneakers. You can also buy from Mavshack and get the best out of your money because we are the lowest-priced online shopping site in India.

#affordable online shopping sites in india #mens sneakers shoes online india #lowest price online shopping sites in india

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