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#i'm standing on my own but now i'm not alone
uriekukistan · 2 days
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JJK 261 ANALYSIS: What happened, how, why Yuuta made the choice he did, and a discussion of tragedy & major themes of JJK
MAJOR spoilers below the cut so please read at your risk.
i wanted to dissect what happened a bit, and address a few points i saw floating around since the leaks dropped. of course, these are all my interpretations, so feel free to disagree, i just had a lot of thoughts floating around that i wanted to put out for discussion.
I. Gojo was never coming back
first of all, i don't know how you guys expected him to survive bisection. i said this earlier in the day as my justification for why i didn't think gojo was coming back, prior to leaks, and i don't think i can say it any better now.
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and this is just my interpretation of reverse curse technique, but if anything, yuuta in this chapter supports my theory. in the scene where he's on shoko's table and arata nitta says that he's used rct to keep the wounds from getting worse, but it might be too late for yuuta to recover. in that case, gojo wasn't coming back from being sliced in half. it's just not possible.
additionally, and this is another thing that i've said for a long time. he says right in episode 6 (i forgot the chapter) that his dream is to reset the jujutsu world raise up a generation of strong students that work together. that is why he became a teacher. this very clearly comes from his relationship with suguru, and it's one of gojo's clearest motivations from the beginning.
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the problem is, in order to achieve this, he has to die. so long as satoru gojo is alive, he will have to carry the burden of being the strongest alone. his students won't have to work together, because gojo will just take care of everything. this is already in the works, with how many people have come together to stand against sukuna. if gojo lived and defeated sukuna on his own, this wouldn't have happened, and bringing him back would, again, reduce the need for his students work together.
unfortunately, gojo has been doomed by the narrative from the start, and his primary goal as a character basically requires his death to be realized in its entirety.
II. They're not heroes, they're jujutsu sorcerers.
yeah, i'm stealing megumi's line because it's true. he literally said it twice for a reason, and then yuuta said a repackaged version of it in this chapter ("we're about to fight history's strongest jujutsu sorcerer. if we can win by throwing away our humanity, we shouldn't even be arguing about this").
trust, all the characters are well aware of the ethical issues with taking gojo's body after he's dead, both with what it means for gojo, and with what it means for yuuta. but this isn't a story about heroism, this isn't a story about the power of friendship. if it was, yuuji would have saved junpei all the way back at the beginning of the series. it was pretty clear from the start that this wasn't going to be the typical shounen manga like that.
in fact, expecting it to be is unrealistic. it's unrealistic in real life too, if i'm being so honest. everyone wants to think they'd take the moral high road in this type of situation, but the reality is, when you're fighting tooth and nail against an opponent that is fighting dirty, you have to fight dirty too if you want to win, and i think that's what yuuta is trying to point out in this chapter.
this happens in real life wars which im not gonna get into examples because i dont want to start that kind of discourse, but like...it's so great to be idealistic and hope that virtue will triumph simply because it is virtuous, but i think if you take a look around, you'll realize it's true that good people do not get what they deserve simply because they're good (that's so megumi of me to say...). or if you think of it like a board game, if a player is cheating, it is infinitely harder to win without cheating yourself.
maybe this is a bit pessimistic of me to say, but you will not win a dirty fight without getting dirty yourself, and i think it's pretty clear that sukuna fights dirty.
additionally, it's shitty to see gojo be weaponized, and i understand that, but it plays into the themes about strength in jjk, which i will get into.
III. This was not an "ass pull."
i don't really have much to say to this. did you think yuuta wouldn't take kenjaku's technique? plus, kenjaku being eaten by rika is probably the only surefire way to ensure that they're dead and won't just hop to another body. i've already said why gojo wouldn't come back, but it makes sense that if yuuta were to copy kenjaku's technique, who else would he body hop into, if not gojo? there's already narrative evidence to support this action, from the guidelines of yuuta's technique, kenjaku's technique, and gojo's technique, to the character of yuuta okkotsu, which i want to do an analysis in a separate post for him, so i won't get into that right now.
idk...to me, all the threads connect, plus i felt like yuuta's return was foreshadowed pretty heavily in 259 & 260, with the mention of yuuta's plan that yuuji couldn't know, and then on the last page of 260, the comparison of sukuna and yuuta, so for me, i always thought that it was not actually gojo, but yuuta at the end of 260.
IV. Themes of JJK: The burden of being "the strongest," or even just strong
even many jjk fans see gojo as "the strongest," and nothing more, doing exactly what the narrative sets up as one of the chief problems of jjk. a lot of gojo's actions are spurred on by the burden he feels from being the strongest modern sorcerer. his entire character is built around this problem of the responsibility and burden that falls on someone who's considered to be "the best" at anything.
in fact, this is also a driving point for geto too, and the conflicts geto and gojo come into with each other, as well as geto's inevitable fall from grace. it all comes from this issue that's at the core of jujutsu society. gojo recognizes that, and, as i mentioned, that is why he became a teacher. so that no young sorcerers will feel the burden of being the strongest alone.
the problem is this is easier said than done. after gojo dies, this burden gets passed down to yuuta, and he feels that immense pressure, which is why he decides to do what he does. he says "haven’t we been pushing the burden of being a monster onto gojo-sensei alone? if gojo-sensei is gone, then who else will be the monster? If no one intends to become one, then I will!" and i think this really powerful evidence of the pressure and burden of being the strongest, and i think the word monster is really important here. the burden pushes people to be something they're not, a shadow of their true self.
it distorts morality, like with geto. it isolates people, like with gojo. it forces people to go to unspeakable lengths to uphold their burden, like with yuuta. it leads people with immense power to doubt themselves, like with megumi. it leads people to feel like a cog in the machine, not a human, like with yuuji.
this is sooo so important and a key theme of jjk, and this chapter in particular, and the driving force behind yuuta's actions.
V. Themes in JJK: Loneliness and Isolation
this one has, in my opinion, a bigger role in the story overall than just in this chapter.
as i mentioned before, gojo is lonely. the only person who could understand him was geto, and he turned away from him, and then died. he seems like a silly guy or whatever, but it's just a mask.
but geto also felt alone and isolated, and that's why he turned away. between gojo and geto, neither of them were able to put share the burden of carrying their strength alone, and it's what kept them apart and made their relationship so tragic.
arguably, and though he would never admit it, sukuna is also lonely, though it's buried deep within him and something he will likely never acknowledge, despite it, and his lack of understanding of love (arguably a symptom of his loneliness), are major reasons for the way he acts.
yuuta, though supported by maki, inumaki, and panda in a way that the previously mentioned characters are not, is still isolated. he alone carries the burden of his strength. he was also alone his whole life after rika died, and then again when he was shipped off to africa, away from his friends (yeah he had miguel, maybe i'm missing something, but i dont see them having that type of relationship.
not only that, but yuuta recognizes gojo's loneliness, and reaches out to tell him not to try to stand by himself once again, and gojo admits that's something he can't do, the reason being his relationship with geto.
even further, yuuji and megumi, the parallel to satosugu, are both deeply lonely, except for when they have each other. i mentioned in this analysis that the reason megumi can't just get up and keep going is because he's alone and has been for over a month. i want to get into this more in my next point.
VI. Where I think (hope) this leads for JJK
a satisfying ending for jjk, in my opinion, would be the resolution to this loneliness and burden of strength issue that has been present throughout the narrative. something like yuuji being able to save megumi and them being able to correct what went wrong with satosugu in their own relationship.
personally would like to see satosugu reach the ending they should have had through the itafushi parallels - let them save each other! but i do know gege said only one of them (the trio + gojo) will die, or only one will live....that was years ago maybe he changed his mind :D
we all want to see yuuji take down sukuna himself, but i think it would be a great resolution to see everyone take down sukuna as a team. no one person is alone, no one person has the burden of the strongest. i know i said this wasn't a "power of friendship" manga, and i stand by that, but i think this would be the perfect ending. yuuta throws his humanity away to do what he did in 261 because he felt like it was the only choice and it was something he alone could do, but yuuji represents unwavering humanity (literally his name), and i think to preserve that, they all need to share that burden. let them realize they need each other.
this is what gojo died for, and this is what he lived for. this is why he became a teacher in the first place- to raise a generation that can be strong together, that can support one another.
VII. "It's poorly written torture porn!" "There's no point if there's no happy ending!" etc
i said this in a separate post but tragedies have existed in literature since the 6th century BCE, 2600 years ago. many of the most popular stories throughout history have been tragedies, for example, orpheus & eurydice, romeo & juliet, even things like the fault in our stars and the titanic movie. here's a quick explanation of what it means for a story to be a tragedy (yeah it's from wikipedia but they want me to pay to access the original source and im not doing that for a jjk analysis)
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one of things i like most about this definition is the use of the word "catharsis," which is to say that the expression of strong emotions is a way of bringing about renewal and relief. in literature, it's used to say that with the arousal and following release of negative emotions relieves suppressed emotions for the viewer. im not gonna get too personal with it, but i know i've experienced this with jjk.
additionally all of the aforementioned tragedies, they have a message, no matter how sad they are. orpheus & eurydice inspires perseverance and faith in the gods. even something like titanic has messages about everlasting love that overcomes all boundaries. jjk has its message too, and it's long underway. we just have to wait for it to reach its conclusion.
it's easy to lose sight of the bigger picture when we only get one chapter a week, and the fact that the pain is so dragged out is a bit tiring, i'll admit. but that doesn't mean it's bad. having negative emotions stirred by a story doesn't mean bad writing. i mean, i would hope you feel sad. i would hope you feel angry. i would be concerned if you didn't. but given that jjk is a tragedy, that just indicates good writing. especially these last two chapters, i've felt moved in a way nothing else has done for me in a long time.
as always, these are just my thoughts!!! im happy to hear from anyone what they think :D
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corroded-hellfire · 3 days
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AYW request where Reader graduates from college so Ryan, Luke, and Eddie come to her graduation. And then Eddie gives her a little graduation gift of his own...
+ Eddie eating Reader out under her gown right after her graduation ceremony. Like, the moment she walks across the stage, he’s dragging her to the bathroom and diving in.
I am dedicating this to Dr. Bug! I'm so proud of you @munson-blurbs 💚
Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral f receiving, age gap
Words: 5k
[As You Wish masterlist]
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The polyester robe that hangs on your shoulders sways in the breeze as you fetch your cap out of the back seat. The cerulean regalia is a beautiful shade, but it was a pain in the ass to find something to wear beneath it that didn’t clash. The white floral summer dress peeking out now from your unzipped gown was a lucky find that caught your eye while out having lunch with Max one day. 
Cap with a golden tassel securely in your hand, you shut the back door to your sister’s car and walk around the backside to stand next to her. 
“I can’t wait to meet your boyfriend,” your sister teases, as if you’re twelve and not twenty-two. 
You roll your eyes as you lift a hand to shade your face from the blazing sun above. It’s not even officially summer yet but Indiana is coming in hot with those high temperatures this year. 
“Don’t be weird,” you say.
An exaggerated gasp leaves your older sister’s lips, and she presses a hand to her heart, fresh yellow nail polish glinting in the sunlight. 
“Me? I’m never weird.”
“When I was fourteen you told Connor Donald–”
“But you were going to the bathroom!”
“You don’t tell that to a boy when he calls!” Somehow you feel like that teenage girl all over again.
“I just had this feeling about him,” she says with a shrug. Your sister crosses her arms over her chest. “And I was right.”
“Yeah, he was a creep,” you admit. 
The smug smile on her pretty face is annoying enough to have you turning away from her. At the other end of the parking lot, you see a familiar group of men headed your way, and the littlest one breaks away from the herd and races your way, yelling your name. As he gets closer, you spy the hat perched atop his chocolate curls and the cuteness devastates you.
With a gleeful chuckle, you catch Luke as he flings himself into your arms. Using the momentum, you swoop the almost-seven-year-old up and hold him against your hip. Your back and arm muscles protest the effort, but you do your best to ignore them. Truthfully, Luke’s getting heavier and too big for this now, but you can’t bear to stop picking him up—he’s still that baby boy to you. 
“Hey, you,” you greet him.
“You look so pretty!” he tells you as you begrudgingly set him down.  
“Thank you!” you say. “You look pretty handsome yourself in that snazzy fedora.”
Luke giggles and adjusts the brim of the hat so he can see you better. 
By now, the rest of the gang has made their way to you and Ryan is the next one to launch himself towards you for a hug. Wayne goes next and you can tell your boyfriend is purposefully waiting to be the last one. Indeed he was as he brings you into his arms and presses a soft, sweet kiss to your lips. His hands slip below the graduation robe and rest on the soft cotton of the dress that hugs your lower back. 
“Hi,” he whispers against your lips.
“Hi,” you reply just as softly. 
If it weren’t for your sister clearing her throat, you very well might have forgotten that you were at your graduation, let alone there were other people standing around you right now. Such is the power of Eddie and his touch.
“Oh,” you say, face heating up as you take a step back from your boyfriend. “Right. Um, everyone, this is my big sister, Gin. Gin, this is Eddie, Wayne, and the little monsters Luke and Ryan.”
Both boys make silly faces at you in retaliation for their introduction, which you have no problem doing right back to them. 
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Eddie says, extending his hand.
“Likewise,” Gin replies as she shakes it. 
“Nice to meet you, sweetheart,” Wayne greets your sister. They shake hands as Eddie comes closer to you again, standing behind you and resting his hands on your hips.
“Heard that if it weren’t for you, these two wouldn’t even know each other,” Wayne says, nodding to you and Eddie. 
Ryan’s nose scrunches up in confusion. “Huh?”
“It’s true,” Gin tells the boy with a smile. “My old roommate is friends with your mom. One day I overheard something about someone needing a babysitter and I knew my little sister was available.”
Luke walks over and wraps his arms around your sister’s hips, giving her a big squeeze.
“Thank you for hearing that!”
The adults chuckle and you lean back into Eddie as he rests his chin on your shoulder.
“I don’t wanna go in,” you say with a sigh.
“Where are you going?” Ryan asks.
“I have to go inside with everyone else who’s graduating,” you explain as Eddie’s arms wind their way around your waist. He isn’t making this any easier. “That way you guys get to watch me when I walk across the stage.”
“Ed, would you let the poor girl go?” Wayne says with a sigh, making Gin let out a tittering laugh.
“Don’t wanna,” he says like a petulant child. He presses a kiss to your shoulder before whispering in your ear. “I like your dress.”
“Thank you,” you hum softly.
Silently, Eddie presses his body flush up against yours and you feel his half-hard cock pressing up against the top of your ass. A strangled gasp leaves your lips and Eddie has to bury his face in your neck to hide his smirk.
“I really like it,” he mumbles against your skin.
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Sitting in the small arena, in dark green retractable seats that are usually reserved for someone watching a school basketball or hockey game, Ryan and Luke start to grow restless as they wait for the graduation ceremony to begin. Eddie knows they won’t exactly be captivated once it starts either, but he’ll cross that bridge when he comes to it. 
“Luke, can you please sit down? I don’t want to ask you again.”
“When is she coming out?” Luke asks, craning his neck to look around at the stage as he does as his father asked.
“When everybody else does,” Ryan says, also bored, but annoyed by his little brother as well.
“But when’s that?” the six-year-old whines.
“You know,” Gin says with a smile that looks suspiciously like one of Luke’s or Ryan’s when they’re up to something, “I have some pretty funny stories I could tell you about her.”
Eddie is also clearly intrigued by this, a spark of mischief gleaming in his own eyes. 
“Ooh, like what?” Luke asks, already engrossed even though your sister hasn’t begun yet.
“Well, one time,” Gin starts, “she thought she could be like Mary Poppins and fly. She grabbed an umbrella and wanted to climb up to the roof. Our dad followed her into the garage and asked what she was looking for. When she said a ladder so she could go up to the roof, he put an end to her plan. She cried the whole day because she wasn’t allowed to try and fly like Mary Poppins could.”
Luke laughs, tilting sideways until he’s leaning against his big brother. Ryan’s chuckling as well, picturing you being mad because you can’t fly. 
“Are you the big sister?” Ryan asks.
“I am,” Gin says.
“How many years?” Luke asks. “Ryan’s two years older than me. I’m the baby.”
“I’m six years older than her.”
“I’m six years old!” Luke shares excitedly.
“Do you have any more stories?” Ryan asks. 
Eddie and Wayne share a smile between the two of them. Ryan is usually never so open with people he’s just met—he’s always been the shyest in the family. But there’s something about Gin being your sister that has Ryan feeling comfortable enough to be himself. The two of you aren’t identical, though it’s easy to tell that you are sisters. Gin is slightly shorter, and her face holds more roundness than yours does, but there’s a clear resemblance. Especially around the eyes, Eddie notices. They aren’t the exact same shade, but the shape of your eyes and arch of your eyebrows are very much alike. 
“Hmm,” Gin hums as she thinks of another story to entertain the boys with. Eddie can’t help but notice she purses her lips when she’s thinking the same way that you do as well. 
“Oh, okay. She used to make us watch her sing and dance all the time! Especially to New Kids on the Block.”
“Who?” Ryan asks.
Before the stab of feeling old has time to sink in for Eddie, Gin, or Wayne, the lights dim and a blanket of quiet falls over the crowd.
The faculty takes their places on stage and Pomp and Circumstance begins to play over the loudspeaker. Soon, a rolling wave enters the floor of the arena as all graduates file in towards the rows of chairs laid out for them.
Both Ryan and Luke stand, the younger Munson on his tippy toes as he tries to look as far and wide as he can to spot you in the crowd. 
“Where is she?” Luke groans. “Everyone is so blue!”
“Ugh! I can’t find her!” Ryan follows up. 
It takes Eddie a few moments to find you as well. Everyone is matching so he can’t go by what you’re wearing beneath your gown, and it’s even hard to see your beautiful hair with the cap restricting his view. But it doesn’t take your boyfriend very long to spot you, as he’d be able to find you anywhere—even if he was blindfolded. 
“Look, look,” Eddie says, gesturing for his sons to step closer to him. “She’s right there. Next to Aunt Jess.”
Ryan and Luke do their best to follow the direction that their father is pointing in, but it’s hard–even when the graduates all stop walking once they reach their seats. But as Ryan wrinkles up his brow and really tries to examine his dad’s line of vision, his eyes catch on you.
“I see her!” A grin lights up Ryan’s face and it fills Eddie with a warmth that the outside sun could never hope to aspire to. 
After a few more minutes, and once the speeches begin, Luke spies you as well and becomes just as excited as his big brother. Their joy quickly wears off as speaker after speaker comes up to the podium to give some of the most boring speeches Eddie has ever heard in his entire life. He can’t blame his boys for practically falling asleep slumped against one another. 
Finally, the names of the graduates begin to get called and the boys muster up their energy reserves to wait for you. There’s a good chunk of graduates who have their moment before a name is called that the boys recognize.
“Jess Arnold.”
The boys excitedly cheer but become even giddier when they see you’re next up. 
Nothing could have prepared you for the emotion of walking across the stage to receive your diploma. Hearing your name called over the loudspeaker was cool, being up on the jumbo screen for a moment was pretty surreal, but the sounds coming from one particular section of the audience have you choking up as you accept the rolled up piece of parchment from the Dean.
The claps of two small pairs of hands and cheers from those same boys send goosebumps shooting up and down your arms. Luke hadn’t even shouted that loud in excitement when he saw the real-life Hot Wheels cars. Wayne’s whistle joins the noise, that piercing sound making you chuckle as you try to swallow your emotions. Gin’s voice is unmistakable in her cheering—you heard that yelling every day growing up, you’d know it anywhere. But the sound in the cacophony that makes a few tears spill over your lash line is Eddie’s proud and happy “Woo!” that he repeats as you make your way across the platform. You just wish he was waiting for you as soon as you stepped off the stage so you could run into his arms. But as you step down and are about to head back to your seat, you look up and see where your family is up in the stands.
When they realize you’re looking at them, the boys wave excitedly, both hands flapping over their heads. Wayne and Gin both give you waves as well. Your eyes are glued to Eddie though, as he presses his hand to his mouth and then extends it towards you, blowing a kiss your way. A girlish giggle bubbles out of you at the gesture and you blow one right back to him. 
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It feels like ants scurrying out of an ant hill as you exit the arena and try to find familiar faces amongst the thousands of family members and friends who are here to support their loved ones today. 
Jess comes up beside you and loops her arm through yours. You flash her a quick smile and the two of you fight your way through the crowd, searching for your people. 
Your name catches your attention and your head whips to the left to see Luke’s small hands cupped around his mouth. It’s a swim upstream as you tug Jess in that direction, but you finally make it to find Eddie waiting with a bouquet of carnations in his hand. 
More tears threaten to spill over as he hands them to you with a smile so full of admiration and pride on his face.
“Congratulations, sweetheart.”
The wrapper around the flowers crinkles in your hand and you make sure it’s held tight in your fist as you throw your arms around your boyfriend’s neck and hug him as close as you can manage. Eddie doesn’t hesitate for a moment, his arms encircling your waist and holding your body up against his.
“Thank you,” you say loud enough for him to hear over the crowd. “I love you so much.”
“They’re from us, too!” you hear Luke say.
With a soft chuckle, you pull away from Eddie who is raising an eyebrow at his boys.
“Are they, now? I must’ve missed the part where you chipped in,” he says.
“You must’ve,” Luke agrees with a shrug.
You laugh and hand the flowers to Eddie so you can pull both boys in for a big hug. Each of them gets squeezed in an arm but they cling to you just as tightly. 
“You were on stage!” Ryan says when you let go.
“And I heard you cheering for me!” you tell him. 
“Can I wear your hat?” Luke asks.
“Oh, I need a picture of that,” you say while nodding your head. 
That leads to dozens of pictures being taken. You with everyone at once, you with everyone individually, you and Jess goofing off before she went off to find her family. Luke takes a handful while wearing your cap but Eddie plops it back on your head so he can take a few more with you. 
Both boys make gagging noises as Gin snaps a picture of Eddie giving you a kiss. Their groans only grow as you wrap your arms around Eddie’s neck and sink further into the kiss, another snapshot being taken.
“Please tell me that one isn’t going to get hung up anywhere,” Luke gripes. 
For the next picture, Eddie wraps his arm tightly around your waist and dips you, causing you to let out a mixture of a squeal and laughter as your hands cling to him for stability. You’re aware of the flash of the camera going off but it’s nothing compared to the brightness of Eddie’s grin as he looks down at you. It makes your heart pound faster than the adrenaline from the feeling of almost falling could ever do.
Once multiple roles of film have been used, the camera gets tucked away and it’s time to get going. Eddie offers to drive you back, just the two of you, since Gin drove you here and she’s headed straight back home. Wayne can take the boys back to give you and Eddie some time alone.
“Thank you for coming,” you say to your sister as you pull her in for a hug.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” she tells you. “I’m so proud of you.” “Thank you.”
It makes you smile to see how the Munsons all hug her goodbye as well–even shy little Ryan. With one last wave, your sister heads towards the parking lot and Wayne ruffles the hair of the two boys.
“Ready, knuckleheads?” he asks.
“Can I wear your cap home?” Luke asks.
“Sure.” You hand the blue piece of regalia to him and instead of switching it out with his fedora like he did for the pictures, he just stacks it on top of his own hat.
“That’s a great look,” Eddie tells him, to which Luke winks in response. 
“Will you take these for me, Ry?” you ask, offering the eight-year-old your bouquet of pastel-colored flowers.
“Of course!” The wrapper crinkles as the boy situates the long stems against his shorter frame.
You press a kiss to both boys’ cheeks before they head towards the parking lot with Wayne. Eddie laces his fingers with yours and you go to follow in the same direction the others just went, when Eddie tugs you back and smacks a kiss to the back of your hand.
“How about a little campus tour before we go?” he asks.
“Oh?” you ask, raising your eyebrows. “Anywhere in particular you want to see?”
Eddie shrugs. “Your favorite spots. Somewhere there’s no one else, maybe.”
“Right,” you say, a smirk tugging the corners of your lips. “Let’s see what we come across.”
Hand in hand, the two of you take a leisurely stroll through the quad of campus. Where there are usually people studying or picnicking during the semester, now there are graduates and families taking pictures and celebrating. The warm day outside leads you to the cool shelter of the student center at the far end of the yard, where you spent a lot of your college days having lunch. It’s mostly empty now, no one having any real need to be in here other than to escape the brutal sun. 
An empty hallway catches Eddie’s eye, and he leads you by the hand to follow him in that direction. His boots squeak against the white linoleum tiles and your heels clack as you step behind in his wake. There isn’t much down this way except for a few offices that are now empty, a room full of vending machines, and some bathrooms. 
Your boyfriend takes advantage of the latter, the empty hallway leading him to believe there will be no one in the men’s room. His gamble is correct as he pulls you in behind him. He moves quick as lightning to turn the lock on the bathroom door, assuring that no one will interrupt the two of you. 
Eddie’s lips are on yours a heartbeat later, both his and your hands going to the zipper of your graduation gown. Neither of you can get it down blindly, but Eddie’s too impatient to make another go at it. Instead, he grips your hips and helps you sit on the peach granite counter behind you. The gown gets rucked up your body, the dress he’s so fond of joining it until they’re both up around your waist.
“Eddie,” you whimper.
“Shhh, shhh, baby,” Eddie croons as he sinks down to his knees. Soft, plush lips trail hot kisses from the inside of your left knee all the way up to the apex of your thighs. Large, strong hands massage up and down your legs as his lips never leave your skin, touching and teasing everywhere except where you need him the most. 
Eddie lets his eyes slip closed not only to let himself enjoy the feeling of having his hands and lips worship your soft skin, but also because if he gets one more look at the wet patch on your purple lace panties, he’s going to rip them off of you and the fun will end far too soon. 
“Eddie, please,” you beg.
“I’ve got you, princess,” he says softly. 
Torturously slow, Eddie’s mouth comes closer to your center, the heat of his breath making you curl your toes before he even comes in contact with you. Brown doe eyes open to look at you, darkened by lust as he finally presses his mouth against your core, kissing against the wet patch of your panties that’s driving him so wild. Pleasure flutters in your pussy, your hole clenching around nothing as Eddie opens his mouth and grips the material of your panties with his teeth. As quick as he grabbed them, he lets them go, letting the wet lace smack back against your clit. 
“God, I need you,” Eddie growls. 
Calloused fingers work themselves up the outside of your thighs and grip the purple material at your hips. You arch your back, head resting against the bathroom mirror, to assist your boyfriend in ridding you of your underwear, which he shoves into the back pocket of his pants. 
Now with nothing between him and your soaked pussy, Eddie eyes it greedily and the way he stares at your bare sex turns you on even more. You choke on a breath as he dives in, tongue instantly running from your hole up to your clit. He decides to keep his attention there, flicking the sensitive nub with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth. 
“Fuck,” you moan. Eddie’s responding moan reverberates up your core, adding another layer of pleasure to his mouth on you. 
He hitches your left leg over his shoulder to open you up even more for him, going in to devour you like his life depends on it. His hot, long tongue glides through your folds as he licks at you, not stopping even for a moment to catch his breath–not giving you a moment of reprieve as his mouth works against your pussy like it was made for this.  
You never want this–him–to stop but Eddie’s too God damn good with his mouth for you to last long. 
“E-Eddie, please.” You’re not sure what you’re pleading for as you reach down and grip the curls on the top of the older man’s head in your hand. It takes all of your control not to rut your hips against his sinful mouth. 
Even though you’re not sure what you’re asking for, Eddie somehow knows what you need—he always does. He slips a finger inside of you, quickly followed by a second, as he keeps his mouth working on your clit. His eyes are trained on yours, not breaking contact for a second as his tongue laps at your clit and his fingers pump in and out of your greedy pussy.
If the feeling alone wasn’t about to bring you over the edge, the sight before you was.
“Oh, I’m gonna, I-I’m gonna–”
You don’t have time to finish your thought as your orgasm rushes over you, pleasure sparking throughout your body and leaving a tingle in your veins that only Eddie can give you. Thick fingers continue to work you through it, his tongue not giving up its assault on your clit until he’s wrung every ounce of ecstasy he can from you.
Once your muscles relax and you’re panting above him, Eddie slips his fingers from inside of you and stands up. He wastes no time slipping them into his mouth, moaning as he savors the taste of you. You’d come again just from that if you had the energy. 
“Eddie,” you whisper between labored breaths.
“I love how much you say my name,” your boyfriend says as he leans over your body and presses his lips against yours. 
The sound of Eddie’s zipper being pulled down shoots a thrill of excitement through you as the two of you exchange easy, lazy kisses. His hard cock nudging at your hole has you breaking your mouth away from his, a whimper tumbling from your lips. 
“Yes,” you whine, the only word in your otherwise blank mind.
His initial push into you has you gripping at his shoulders, throwing your head back, which Eddie takes full advantage of and attaches his lips to your throat. The deeper he sinks into you, the harder your nails dig into the back of the button up shirt Eddie wore just for the occasion today. 
“Shit,” Eddie huffs with a small laugh. “I’m not gonna last long, baby. Fuck, been hard since I saw you this afternoon. Couldn’t stop thinking about how bad I wanna fuck you since then. How bad I needed to taste you. Feel that tight, perfect pussy of yours squeezing me so fuckin’ good.”
You lift your head up to look at him through heavy-lidded eyes. 
“Even though m’not your college girl anymore?” you ask through your shallow breathing.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie growls, gripping your hips tighter and adjusting the angle that he pushes into you. “You’re my college graduate. My smart girl. My smart girl who gets so dumb on my cock, doesn’t she?”
“Uh huh.” You nod, your head heavy as the familiar pressure builds up in your lower tummy.
“That’s my girl.”
“So close,” you whine.
“Me too, baby. Come on. Be my good girl and come with me.”
One of Eddie’s hands leaves your hips and his thumb presses against your clit, making tight circles just the way he knows drives you crazy. 
“Fuck,” you groan.
“Let go, princess.”
“Shit, I-I’m coming!”
Eddie spilling into you, coating your walls with his warm seed elevates this orgasm as you hold onto your boyfriend for dear life. Lightning sparks everywhere his body touches yours and pure bliss washes over you like a wave on the surf. 
It takes a few minutes for the two of you to catch your breath. Eddie’s body hovers over yours and, if you’re honest, you’d be fine if he never moved. Eventually, he has to though, which also means pulling out of you. Though you whine at the loss, Eddie is right there to help clean you up and press sweet kisses to your mouth.
“I love you,” he whispers against your lips.
“Mmm, I would hope so,” you tease, throwing your arms around his neck.
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Eddie has one arm draped around your shoulders as you walk down the hallway to his apartment door. He keeps pressing kisses to your temple and running the material of your graduation gown between his fingers. 
“What’re the odds the boys will be asleep?” Eddie asks when you’re one door away.
“Slim to none,” you answer with a bark of laughter. “It’s still light out.”
“Details, details.” Eddie grabs the doorknob and tosses the front door open, allowing you to step inside first.
But you don’t even get one foot over the threshold before your eyes take in the sight before you. A large banner reading “Congratulations!” hangs in the archway that leads to the bedrooms and the apartment is crowded with people. Your jaw drops and it takes your brain a few moments to recalibrate. Once it does, you spin around to face Eddie and swat at his arm.
“I told you I didn’t want a party!”
Eddie shakes his head, a shit-eating grin on his face, as he leads you into the apartment and closes the door behind him. All six Harringtons are here, Max, Lucas, and their daughter Tiffany, and Wayne with both boys, who look more mischievous than ever.
“Oh no, this isn’t a graduation party,” Eddie says. 
Nancy steps forward, a sly smile on her face, when you narrow your eyes at Eddie.
“Nope,” she echoes. “It’s an employee performance review.”
You stare at her for a moment, not comprehending her words.
“What?”
She can’t help but let out a small chuckle so Steve steps up to her side to help her out.
“You’re our employee, right? Watch the kids? So, we reviewed your performance and determined it was excellent.”
“Which of course calls for a party,” Nancy explains, gesturing to the living room full of people around her.
“And the fact that it happens to be on the day I graduated college?” you ask, tilting your head to look at Eddie.
“Complete coincidence,” he says with an innocent shrug. 
“Look, look, look!” Luke bounds over and grabs your hand, leading you over to the counter that separates the kitchen and the living room. 
A large sheet cake with vanilla icing and blue piping rests there, bearing the words “Congrats Grad!” in gold lettering.
It brings a smile to your face, but you smile even wider as you look down at Luke and then over at Ryan.
“Did you two know about this?” you ask.
“Maaaaybe,” Ryan drawls.
“I can’t believe you kept a secret from me!”
You pull Luke in against your chest and start to tickle his sides. He squirms, trying to get away from you as he howls in laughter. 
“Ahh! Ryan! Help me!”
Ryan rushes over and tries to tug his little brother out of your grasp, but you’re quicker. You pull the older Munson brother into your clutches as well and he becomes another victim of your tickling. They both shriek and try to run, but you cease your tickling to wrap your arm around each boy and press a kiss to the top of their heads. 
“You little sneaks,” you say.
“Can we have cake now?” is Luke’s only reply. He doesn’t wait for a response before posing another question. “Do you make a wish on graduation cakes?”
“What would you wish for, babe?” Eddie says as he walks over to you. He looks like he’s trying not to laugh, and you furrow your brow. “Would it be to fly like Mary Poppins?”
Your eyes widen as all the heat in your body rushes to your face.
“I’m going to kill my sister.”
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338 notes · View notes
selfloverrrrrr · 3 days
Note
Spoilers warning:
Can i request yandere sukuna in megumi’s body where he noncon reader? And megumi lowkey likes it lol and you can include your own ending where sukuna got exorcised and megumi getting back his own body, turns out y/n got preggo now megumi’s forcing reader get married with him?
Thank youu
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I'll accept you...
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Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, Kidnapping, physically and emotional abuse, biting, torture, size difference, Yandere, protective, jealous, obsessive, manipulative....
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( All characters are aged up/18+)
Masterlist
Minors Do Not Interact
Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report
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I'm a student of jujutsu high Tokyo. I'm a first year.... in grade four. Gojo satoru is the one who took the responsibility to make me understand my cursed energy and how to use it. Cause I can't use it properly. We're best friends... Me, Yuji, Megumi and Nobara.
Gojo Satoru just got sealed. Every sorcerer went to shibhuiya to get Gojo back. Everyone was Panicking all the time.
They were collecting the wounded sorcerers in a room. They were searching for them all over Shibuya City. I was in the room alone. Waiting for someone to come. It was too long time no one came. But I didn't have any other choice. I have to wait for them.
Being tired I kinda fall asleep on the bed of that room. Suddenly hard a chuckle of a male voice. My eyes wide open. I looked at the door saw itadori standing there. "M-Megumi?" I asked.
" Tsk.... guess again" he said walking towards me. Then I saw tattoos on his face. " Sukuna" I gasped. " Ahhh.... Now better" he replied. I got up from the bed. I was so confused and shocked. Sukuna??? In Megumi's body???? How? "They leave you alone here?... Pathetic!" Sukuna laughed. "H-how are you in Megumi's body???" I asked. "I switched with his body....you don't need explanation brat" he said and stepped closer and I stepped backwards.
I could feel the situation isn't okey right now....I was about to run but he immediately came infront of me. He was too fast. "Where do you think you are going,huh?" he asked and grabbed my hair and dragged me towards the bed. I groaned in pain. He threw me on his bed and locked the door. Took off his shirt and threw it on the floor then started crawling towards me on the bed."please stop" I said and tried to push myself backwards but he grabbed my leg and pulled me towards him. I gasped. He was still smirking."stop?... Where's the fun then? The fun part is about to began ~" he whispered and crashed his lips on mine.
I tried to push him away but his grip was too strong. I can't even move myself. He was kissing me too roughly. I couldn't breathe. He grabbed the hem of my top and pulled it over my head. My boobs bounced out. He looked at those with lust in his eyes. He didn't waste any time, crashed his mouth on my breast licking, sucking and teasing the nipple and squeezing the other one with his hand. I moaned in the sensetion. I grabbed his hair and tried to stop him by pulling it but it didn't even effect on him. "S-stop ...... Oh god please stopppp" I scremed but he didn't stop.
Then he took off my pant and then took off my pantie."spread those legs wider, slut " he whispered and then looked at my pussy. He rubbed his finger on my clit and whispered " filthy whore is fucking wet". Then he licked my pussy. I couldn't help but moan loudly. He smirked at my reaction and undo his pant.
His dick sprang out. It was big and thick. Fear grabbed me by my neck. " P-please no... s-stop" I begged but didn't even listen to me and slammed his whole dick inside me in one slide. I scremed. " You whores will never learn how to behave " He said and slapped me. He didn't even give me time to adjust his size and started thursting in and out roughly. I was throughig my legs with pain and begging him to stop. And he was licking it so much. His thurst became harder and harder. "M-Megumi ..... Oh f-fuck.... Megumi please stop him!!!" I cried out. " Megumi is watching these right now.... and do you wanna know what's he doing??.... He's stroking himself right now" Sukuna whispered and laughed evilly. I clenched around him tightly and he moaned loudly "fucking tight " he started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I bite his shoulder scratched his back to control myself. With a few more thurst I came. He was still thursting roughly. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. I tried to push him away with all of my strength. I moaned. He grabbed my throat and chocked me down to the bed. " Stop struggling slut...!!!" He screamed. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out. My vision blurred out.
It's been months now from that night. He used me every day like a toy for him. Today morning was something good. A great day. I heard a good news that Sukuna got exorcist. The people of jujutsu high took me to the jujutsu high's room again.
Someone knocked on the door. "W-who?" I asked. "It's... it's me... M-Megumi" the voice replied from the door way. "C-come in" I replied. Megumi opened the door and came in. He sit beside me. "Y/n..... look... Look we both know what happened" he said. I hide my face because tears coming from my eyes. "Y/n look I wanna say something... I could never confess to you because I thought you won't say yes to me but I'm saying it now... And I heard you're pregnant.... And we both know that it's my child... Can I be the proper father if you want....? I love you y/n I love you so fucking much.... I want to take care of you.... And I talked with Gojo too... He said he's gonna help us too if you agreed to be mine... please...? Can I be yours?" Megumi asked holding my hand. Tears still falling. "Yes" I sobbed with a smile. I felt happy. Megumi smiled back and kissed me. I kissed him back..... maybe this is the new way to start our life...
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Give me your requests guys....
I love when you give me your requests 💕
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132 notes · View notes
morallyinept · 1 day
Text
Devoutness - Mature!Marcus Moreno x Mature 60+ F!Reader
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Written as part of my B O D I E S Series 🤎
BODIES MASTERLIST
This story is part of my Heyday Hero universe. <- You might want to read that story first for context. But you can read this as a stand alone if you wish.
Summary: Marcus and you embrace the challenges of growing old together and enjoying intimacy.
Pairing: Mature!Marcus Moreno x Mature 60+ F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader in terms of ethnicity, Reader does have hair, however. Reader and Marcus are both in their mid-sixties, I've made Marcus 64 in this, and have real bodies with aging and Reader is on the curvier side.)
Word Count: 7.5k
Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I'm doing well, and then, you try to kill me."
Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.
Triggers & warnings: Reader & Marcus are much older and have real bodies reflective of their age/use of Viagra & sex aids/erectile dysfunction/unprotected PIV (wrap up folks!)/oral M receiving/mild dirty talk/Marcus has superpower hands ⚡️/lots of kissing/schmaltzy romance/Marcus doesn't fuck, he makes love.
NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.
I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.
Author’s Note: It's important to me that all types of readers are represented in my work, therefore this collection of stories is written for readers with REAL bodies. However, anyone can enjoy them. Whilst this story may not specifically represent your own personal journey, it is my hope that it resonates and offers comfort and enjoyment. This story is specifically about aging and growing old. If it upsets you to read about mature lovemaking, then I don't what to say - you'll be this age yourself one day... Everyone's journey is personal and unique, and I have undertaken as much research as I can to write accurately and respectfully. 🤎
MAIN MASTERLIST | MARCUS MORENO MASTERLIST
Enjoy! 🖤
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“Are you ready, kiddo?” Marcus asks.
“No,” Missy gulps. 
“You’re not nervous, are you?” 
“Were you nervous?”
“Yes.”
“Both times?”
“Yes.” Marcus nods. 
“Jeez.”
“Just breathe-”
“I am breathing. I-I think I’m breathing too much!” She squeaks.
He watches as Missy wrings at her hands that are visibly shaking. He’s never seen her so amped up and antsy before, and he decides instantly that he doesn’t like it. 
“Hey, hey. Look at me.” Marcus places his own hands deftly on her shoulders and rubs his thumbs into the bones gently. “You’ve got this.” 
"Dad, I'm so fucking nervous. What if I trip walking down the aisle?"
Marcus frowns with a soft smile. “I won’t let you and your potty mouth trip.”
“What if I forget my vows? Oh God, shit! I can’t remember them!”
"Hey now. Remember the time when you faced the Void Fiend head-on?”
“What does that have to do with-”
“You were brave, strong, and fearless. This? Walking down the aisle to marry the man you love? It's a breeze compared to that."
The Void Fiend was a creature of pure darkness, with tendrils of shadow that twisted and writhed like living smoke. Its eyes glowed with an otherworldly intensity, casting an eerie light that seemed to pierce through the very fabric of reality. And it had temporarily cast Missy into another dimension, until she battled her way out and ended the Void Fiend’s existence with her tenacity and strength. Something she’d inherited from her now retired, ex-Heroic father. 
“I’m missing the Void Fiend right about now…”
“Tranquila, estás exagerando. Tú puedes hacerlo." (Calm down, you’re exaggerating. You’ve got this.)
“I don’t know how you did this twice.” She sighs as she paces, placing her hand over the boned satin corset covering her stomach. “God, I feel sick.”
“Well, I didn’t really have a choice.” Marcus says, timidly. He takes off his glasses, rubbing at his temple.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean-”
“I know.” He reassures, and it stops them both in their tracks like a blow to the gut. 
A moment of silence passes between them, filled with unspoken thoughts. Missy’s eyes soften as she looks at her father.
“Look at this, you’ve always been useless at ties,” Missy smirks, fussing with the silk slate knot at her father’s throat. 
“Fingers are too big for something so slippery,” he snorts, casually. 
“That’s what she said.” Missy grins.
“Behave.” Marcus sighs, rolling his eyes. 
“There,” she says, as she tweaks and neatens the tie into place. She pats down the soft lapels of his dark navy suit and steps back to look at him. “I love seeing you so happy.”
Marcus smiles. “I love being so happy. For a while I didn’t think I ever would be again...”
His thoughts immediately drift to you and it makes the blood in his veins sing. Each thought of you ignites a warmth within him, spreading from his chest and radiating outward, as if you're the very sun that has lit his internal world.
“Do you think Mom would be proud of me?”
His expression becomes tender, a deep sadness mingling with his love. “She would be more than proud. She’d be over the moon. You’ve become everything she ever hoped for and more.”
Tears well up in her eyes, and she takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “I wish she could be here today. And abuela…” (Grandma) 
He nods, his own eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “They both are. They’re right in there.” He points to his daughter’s heart.
“Dad! I can’t cry, my mascara will run. Shit!” She fans her face quickly. “You promise you won’t let me fall on my face in these ridiculous heels?”
“They are pretty ridiculous.” Marcus smirks, clocking the sky high heels that his daughter totters around uncomfortably in. “But I take my job very seriously. You’ll remain fully upright. Until you say I do, then you’re Sam’s problem.” He chuckles. 
Missy takes a deep breath after giggling, and gathers her bouquet. It’s a stunning arrangement of flowers, each one grown and hand picked from Marcus's cherished garden, adding a deeply personal touch to her special day. Full of sweet smelling blush peonies, white roses and anemones, wrapped with eucalyptus leaves.
“Okay. I can do this.” Missy says aloud. 
He nods, his eyes filled with pride. "Of course you can. You've faced far greater challenges than this, and you've always come out on top. You’re a Moreno. Just remember to take it one step at a time so you don’t break your ankles-”
“Dad.”
“-and focus on the love in your heart. Everything else will fall into place." He simply shrugs. 
“It really will, won’t it?” Missy concludes, looking at him and how intensely happy he is. It just radiates off of him like a solar flare bursting from the sun.
“Sam’s a lucky man.” Marcus says proudly. 
She steps closer to her father, and they embrace, holding each other tightly. The bond between them, forged in love and shared loss, feels stronger than ever.
“Thank you for always being there for me. For being both a father and a mother when I needed it most. I don't know what I'd do without you."
Marcus wraps her in a warm embrace, his arms a safe haven amidst the whirlwind of emotions that try to rattle her.
"You'll always have me, muñeca. Now go out there and show that fiancé of yours just how beautiful you look." (Doll)
“You scrub up pretty well yourself, you silver fox.”
“Stop it.” Marcus blushes unabashedly whilst he straightens his cuffs as Missy wolf-whistles at him. 
His suit jacket is impeccably cut, with sharp, clean lines that accentuate his frame. A neatly folded pocket square, matching the silvery tone of his tie, adorns his breast pocket, its presence a small but significant nod to tradition and style. His cufflinks, sleek and elegant, catch the light with a gentle gleam, completing the sophisticated look.
His suit, complete with waistcoat and a white rose boutonniere, compliments the mercury that’s over taken his once dark, cocoa hair and facial scruff, both now trimmed neatly and styled for the wedding.
His eyes, a deep, soulful brown, still hold a spark of the formidable spirit that once defined him, shrouded often behind his thick, black-rimmed spectacles, that are a trademark feature. They reflect both wisdom and a hint of the mischief that lingers from his younger days. The crow's feet at the corners of his eyes deepen as he smiles, adding to his rugged charm. His body, though no longer in its prime, remains strong and capable, despite his advancing years.
The suit he wears fits him perfectly, tailored to accommodate the changes that time has wrought. His shoulders, still broad and solid, hint at the strength that lies beneath the fine fabric. His waist, though a bit softer around the middle, speaks of a man who has remained active and engaged with the world around him, despite slowing down in his retirement.
His hands, once steady and unyielding in the face of danger, now show the signs of age with slightly knobbled knuckles and veins that stand out against his papery skin.
Sixty-four has never looked so good on Marcus Moreno.
But at this age he feels the weight of time in his bones and muscles, a constant reminder of the years that have passed. Mornings are sometimes the hardest. As he rises from bed with you, his joints protest with a familiar stiffness. His knees, especially, ache with a dull persistence, a result of decades of wear and tear from heroic escapades.
He moves more slowly now, careful with each step, aware that a wrong move could lead to a fall. Yet, despite these physical reminders of aging, he carries himself with a quiet dignity. Marcus has grown accustomed to the small rituals of maintenances that aging requires: daily medications, regular doctors visits, the strength of exercise and stretches to keep his body as agile as possible.
And he's aging gracefully with you right by his side, watching the season's change and embracing them with a smile and contentment. There's a certain peace in accepting the changes brought by age. Appreciating a slower pace.
Life has a different rhythm now, one that allows for gratitude and reflection. He cherishes the stillness of the early morning, sipping coffee with his arm around you and taking in the scents of his garden. More moments to stop and smell the flowers.
He has more time to appreciate the small things. He's not merely growing older; he's becoming more himself with each passing day.
“I mean it, your lovely wife will need to watch her back. Those bridesmaids of mine are feral.”
“Cripes.” Marcus shudders, already feeling himself sweat at the horrid thought. “Let’s make a deal. I’ll keep you upright if you keep those hormonal women away from me.”
Missy giggles. “I can’t promise anything, Dad. One of them has the power of influence. You might be cast under her spell.”
“Please tell me you’re joking.” He groans.
Missy simply taps her nose and grins. With a newfound sense of confidence, she takes a deep breath and grips onto her father’s arm as he offers it out to her.
Marcus smiles down at her from behind his polished spectacles and slicked back hair, and beams brightly. 
“Come on, let’s get you married. You’re such a pain in my ass. Can’t wait to be rid of you.” He says.
“Nope. You’re stuck with me forever. That's the deal. You made me.”
“I should have worn a condom.” Marcus grins. 
“You’re such an ass.” Missy snorts ungracefully, choking on her giggles. 
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Sitting in the front row of the aisle lined with garlands of fresh flowers, you stand and watch as Marcus emerges with Missy on his arm, in a modest ivory dress, to a solo violinist’s rendition of All Of Me. 
You clock Marcus’s face and he seems completely entranced and proud as he walks Missy down the aisle to her future husband Sam, who’s waiting and wiping discreetly at his eyes. 
You smile fondly at his reaction, remembering Marcus looking at you just like that on your wedding day to him. It was an intimate and heartfelt affair, celebrated in the same garden where he lovingly tended to the flowers, now featured in his daughter’s wedding bouquet. A place that you had grown to love just as much as him.
The setting was a testament to his life's quieter, nurturing side, a stark contrast to his years of heroic exploits, and you were only too inclined to agree at the lowkey subtlety. It was a place that was special to you both and you both spent a lot of time together basking in the Texan sun, as well as your love.
The retired superhero had stood at the heart-shaped trellis threaded with lilac roses and violet ranunculi - a nod to the purple heart emoji from your early days of flirting and getting to know one another on the dating app - his heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and excitement, and looking at you like you were the only thing that kept his word spinning on its axis. 
Marcus has spent years, decades, alone after losing his first wife shortly after Missy was born. A woman who had been his partner in every sense of the word. Her passing had left a void that seemed impossible to fill, a grief that lingered in the corners of his heart and a guilt that overpowered him when he thought about moving on.
Throwing himself into work and saving the world on the regular, between bringing up a headstrong and smart younger version of him, consumed him. and it was only when retirement beckoned did he realise he didn't want to spend the remainder of his life alone.
So then there was you. You were different and brought a familiarity that felt like home. You'd connected over shared experiences, laughter, your mutual love of flowers and home cooked food, and a heightened passion that sizzled between you both.
Your laughter was like a soothing balm to his weary soul and your kindness, understanding, and your acceptance of his late wife and the love he would always have for her, slowly began to heal the wounds that time had only partially mended.
Your relationship had grown slowly, rooted in deep conversations, mutual respect and compassion. You'd walked Marcus's garden many times, traversing the flower beds, conversing about the different species and plant types. Cuddled up by the pool at golden sunsets, kissing deeply in the loungers, and sharing twilight dinners and wine.
It was in his garden, that you both realised you could love again. And it was where he had proposed to you too. He'd had your ring custom made, a floral stone shape, cut with stunning teal diamonds.
You’d walked towards him on that special day wearing blue - a colour that you both loved on you - radiant and beautiful, every step bringing you closer to your new life shared together. You remember the way Marcus had looked at you as you exchanged vows, his eyes filled with unwavering trust and devotion. Tears making them glisten under his spectacles.
The ceremony had been simple yet profound, promises made in front of a handful of those closest to you, both not seeking an extravagant affair or party into the wild hours. Instead a small gathering and a lovely home cooked meal, which you and Marcus had lovingly prepared together for your family, after you both promised to stand by each other through all of life's challenges.
And as Missy and Sam prepare to exchange similar vows now, Marcus joins you by your side on the pew, his hand slipping into yours where it belongs, and you hand him a tissue.
“Thanks,” he whispers, smiling crookedly and blushing as he dabs at his eyes under his specs once more. “I'm a mess.” He sniffs.
He feels a tear slip down his weathered cheek, not from sadness but from the deep, abiding joy of witnessing his daughter's happiness. 
“She looks so beautiful.” You compliment, filled with adoration for her as if Missy were your own flesh and blood.
She’s become the closest thing to a daughter to you, your relationship with her deepened and special. Sharing girl-dates together on the regular, shopping and having lunch when she’s not saving the world. Teaming up and teasing Marcus to no end until you’re all in a fit of giggles.
You’re so proud of the young woman Marcus has raised.
“She does.” Marcus whispers. 
He turns his head and your eyes find his, big and watery and filled deep with sincerity. “You look absolutely beautiful, mi dulzura.” (My sweetness)
You gently squeeze his hand, feeling warm and more loved than you ever thought possible, as he places a gentle and lingering kiss on top of your head. 
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The grand garden is alight with fairy lights underneath a gloaming sky.
The hazy orange glow that emits from the twinkles hovering delicately above this enchanted place leaves you with a sense of warm contentment, despite the gentle nip of the cool breeze as the evening wears on.
It’s an idyllic wonderland, draped in satin and ivy. Over the course of three days it had been transformed into an empyrean view fit for a king himself, and Marcus spared no expense in giving Missy everything she wanted for her big day. 
A vast lawn covered with bunting and a large white gazebo in the grounds of the Edwardian Manor House. Tables lined with crystal glasses, enormous plumes of roses that matched her bouquet.
Marcus was never an extravagant man, always mindful of living a modest life, but he wanted to make this a day Missy and Sam would never forget. His generosity, and smart investment skills over the years, is another trait of his that you love so much. 
The tinkling sounds of music flows through the crowd, like an invisible ribbon wrapping itself around all the guests that litter this decadent soiree. The threads of Heroic connections between them are visible, retired and current heroes in attendance; their radiance, euphoria and harmonies hum through your ears as Marcus twirls you around on the dancefloor.
The atmosphere is a blend of celebration and reverence. There's a sense of continuity, of old and new merging seamlessly. Marcus’s past as a Heroic adds an undercurrent of awe and admiration among the guests, but tonight, he’s celebrated for his role as a loving father and husband. 
The world around you seems to fade, leaving just the two of you bathed in the soft, golden glow of the twinkling lights. The band is in the middle of a slow, melodic tune, the kind that speaks of timeless romance and unspoken promises.
Marcus takes your hand with a gentle, yet confident grip, his fingers intertwining with yours as if they were always meant to fit together. You feel the familiar, crackly buzzing from his fingertips, reverberating deep into your skin and down your arm, igniting you, and he winks at you knowingly. 
He leads with a grace that hints at his once superhuman agility, his steps sure and deliberate. As you waltz across the floor, your eyes lock, a silent exchange that speaks volumes. Your eyes sparkle with a mixture of joy and affection, while his reflects a depth of gratitude and love that words can never fully capture.
You both share a secret smile, the kind that only two people deeply in love can understand, and it feels as if you’re the only ones in the world.
A palpable chemistry fizzes between you, helped by the static in his fingers that he teases you with, a testament to the deep bond and joy you bring each other. The music swells, a building crescendo, his hand gently guiding yours. At one point, he twirls you gently, your dress fanning out fully, and as you return to his embrace, you both chuckle, your foreheads touching for a brief, tender moment.
There's a playfulness in your dance, a sense of rediscovered youth, as if the years between you have melted away, leaving only the pure essence of your connection.
“Have you always been this smooth a dancer?” You query as he sways with you.
“I might know how to cut a rug.” Marcus smirks. 
“I’m still discovering all these wonderful secret talents about you, Mr Moreno.”
“Well, I like to keep you on your toes, Mrs Moreno.” He smirks with rosy cheeks.
As the song progresses, you pull each other closer, moving as one entity, lost in each other’s eyes. His hand rests on the small of your back, guiding you effortlessly, while your hand caresses his broad shoulder.
"You make me feel young again," he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper.
"You make me feel safe," you reply with a smile. He loves the way your eyes crinkle when you do. “And so loved.”
“That’s because you are, mi dulzura.” He presses a kiss to your temple. (My sweetness)
"Look at her," you say softly, glancing toward Missy, who is radiant in her wedding dress, and laughing with others at a table. "She's so happy."
His eyes follow yours, and he nods, a proud smile spreading across his face.
"She deserves all the happiness in the world. She's incredible, just like her mother was..." He trails off and his eyes become a little deeper.
"She's incredible, just like her father is," you add gently, squeezing his shoulder.
He chuckles, shaking his head. "I don't know about that. I always tried my best. But I'm so proud of her. She's taken on so much, and she handles it all with such grace."
"She has a great role model," your voice is filled with warmth and admiration."You should dance with her," you suggest with soft encouragement.
Marcus hesitates for a moment, glancing at his daughter, who is laughing joyously with her new husband and their friends.
"Do you think she'd want that? It's her big day."
"Of course she would," you reply, your fingers brushing his cheek tenderly. "She loves you so much. This is a special moment for both of you."
He looks into your eyes, seeing the sincerity and love reflected there. "You're right," he says, his voice a little shaky with emotion. "I just... I don't want to intrude."
"You could never intrude. Go to her," you urge with a warm smile. "I'll be right here, cheering you both on."
Marcus takes a deep breath, then leans in to kiss you gently. "Thank you. For everything. You’re incredible."
"You're pretty incredible yourself." You smile back, your eyes shining. "Go on. Make this moment unforgettable."
He releases your hand reluctantly and makes his way across the dancefloor, each step filled with a mix of pride and nervous anticipation.
As Marcus approaches his daughter, she looks up, her eyes lighting up when she sees him.
"Dad," Missy says, her voice filling with delight. "Come dance with me!"
He nods, his heart swelling. "I'd be honoured."
The band begins to play another soft, melodic tune that echoes through the sumptuous garden.
“You took your shoes off,” Marcus chuckles, noticing her bare toes peeking out under the satin hem of her dress.
“I did. Let us never speak of those evil things again.”
“You know, I used to dance with you when you were little.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. You’d stand on my feet and let me move you about. You said you were no good at dancing and would pout. It was so cute.”
“And I stand by that fact.” Missy announces. 
“Nonsense.” He smiles. 
“And I’m always cute, for the record.” She grins. “Can I stand on your feet now?”
“Go for it.” He smiles.
She steps onto his polished shoes and he holds her close in his arms as he moves, his chin resting on her head and smiles. 
"You look so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm so proud of you."
"Thanks, Dad," she replies, her eyes misting. "I'm so glad you're here with me. I know Mom would be," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the music.
"I am too," he replies, his grip on her tightening slightly. "I see so much of her in you. She would be so proud of the woman you've become."
She nods, a tear slipping down her cheek. "I hope so."
“I know so, muñeca.” (Doll)
“But you’ve got a wonderful woman who loves you just as much. Maybe even more.” Missy says to him. 
“I do,” he smiles over at you and you beam. You’re recording them dancing together on your phone, something for him to keep forever. 
“I’m still pissed that you found your one on a dating app you didn’t want to join for so long…” Missy snorts. 
“And after only one date too. What is it the kids say now, I’m winning at life?” He chuckles. 
“Yeah. You are. You smug bastard.”
“Easy now,” Marcus remarks with a thick smirk.
As the song draws to a close, Marcus pulls her into a warm embrace, holding her tightly. "I love you. Always."
"I love you too, Dad," she whispers back, her voice full of emotion.
They part with a final smile, and he steps back to let her return to her husband. As he makes his way back to you, you’re waiting for him with open arms.
"How was it?" You ask, pulling him into a hug.
“Perfect. Thank you for encouraging me.” Marcus beams.
"Anytime," you say, kissing him softly.
“Come on, dance with me some more, Mrs Moreno.” He says, pulling you gently towards the dancefloor again. 
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Later that evening, after calling it quits on the late night as it shows no sign of dying down, you and Marcus ascend the grand staircase in the Manor House, a structure with an old-world charm blended with modern comforts.
The lobby is adorned with elegant chandeliers and plush seating, exuding a sense of timeless sophistication. Still glowing from the day's festivities, you make your way to your suite, hand in hand and talking softly with smiles and giggly laughter.
As you open the door to your room, you’re greeted by an inviting, romantic ambiance. The room is spacious yet cosy, with a large queen four poster, draped in crisp white linens and silky drapes. A pair of plush armchairs sit by the window, offering a breathtaking view of the city lights twinkling in the night.
A bottle of champagne chills in a silver bucket, accompanied by two flutes and a tray of gourmet chocolates.
You look around in awe, taking in the thoughtful details. "This is perfect," you murmur, your voice filled with contentment.
“Should be, we’ve paid for it,” Marcus chuckles, loosening his tie. 
You smile, stepping further into the room and slipping off your heels. "It's beautiful. Just like tonight."
You move to the window, admiring the view over Austin in the distance for a moment, before you feel him wrapping his arms around you from behind, pulling you in close. You lean into his embrace, feeling the warmth and strength that has always been so comforting.
Despite the buzz of the day, your bodies remind you both of the years you've lived. His back aches slightly from standing and dancing for so long, a dull reminder of his age and the years of unrelenting vigour from his past Heroic life. Your feet are sore, throbbing from your heels, and you feel a familiar stiffness in your joints.
“This night couldn’t be any more perfect,” you sigh dreamily, enjoying the way Marcus is planting delicate kisses against your neck and murmuring in agreement.  
“I may have had a thought on topping it.”
“Oh really? Do tell, Mr Moreno…” You prompt, smiling.
He turns you to face him and kisses you deeply, humming in satisfaction as his tongue massages against yours. Gentle and explorative, and leaves you utterly wanting.
“Thought that I would make love to my beautiful wife.” Marcus kisses over your knuckles one by one, planting a longer kiss over your wedding band. 
“I’ve been thinking about that all night.”
“You have?” He smiles.
“Mm-hm, it’s the suit.” You smile, running your hands down his lapels. “You look so handsome and sexy.”
He blushes and it’s still the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, watching his prominent tan nose and the tips of his ears turn a little pink. 
“You want to?” He asks and you nod. “Good, I came prepared.”
“I would expect no less from Mr Organised.” 
Grinning, he then steps away from you and rummages in the overnight bag that has already been brought up to the room by the concierge. 
You watch as he pulls out a small box and pops a little blue pill into his palm. He winks at you from behind his specs as he swallows it, and you reach for him. Your lips reconnect as you kiss him deep. 
The warmth of his lips running against yours, the familiar scent of him, and the deep, unwavering love in his eyes, combine to create a sensation that’s almost overwhelming and makes you dizzy with desire.
Your knees feel slightly weak, and you cling to him a little tighter, grounding yourself in his steady embrace. The giddy sensation is both disorienting and beautiful, a physical manifestation of the profound connection you share and the intensity of the moment.
When you finally part, he leads you to the small table where the champagne awaits. He pops the cork with a practised ease, pouring you each a glass.
"To how incredibly beautiful you look," Marcus toasts, raising his flute.
You smile, feeling your own face heat, clinking your glass against his.
You sip the champagne, savouring the bubbles and the moment. But he can’t resist much longer, waiting for the pill to work its magic, and neither can you as he pulls you into his arms once more.
The skin of his hands is marked by age spots and the veins more prominent, but his touch is as tender as ever. You feel the pleasant buzz from them sinking into your skin and travelling through your nerves. It makes you shudder, your nipples rousing awake as he glides his fingers down your arms.
"I can't believe how lucky I am," Marcus whispers, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back where your dress reveals a slink of skin. It's softer there now, a bit looser, but still so familiar and comforting.
"We both are." You agree. 
You both murmur and hum into more shared kisses, each one lasting a little longer and conveying your longing for one another. 
“Mmm, that’s nice,” you say as he nibbles gently on your lip and then licks over it.
“Really nice.” Marcus says, pulling you in closer. 
You giggle after a few moments. “My lipstick is all over you,” you smile, wiping his lips with your fingers. 
“I don’t care,” he smirks. “You can cover me in it, as long as I get more kisses.”
You giggle more as he rubs his lips against yours deliberately.
“Does it suit me, is it my colour?” He asks, grinning. 
“Yes, velvet pink is your colour, Marcus.” You titter.
“Well, blue is certainly yours, this dress is just so… stunning. I like how it just-” He loses the words as his eyes roam all over you. “I like how it just kind of shows all of you.”
“Yeah?” The dress is flattering, hugging your curves in all the right places and just revealing the subtlest amount of flesh, mostly down your back.
“Yeah… God, I want to peel you out of it so slowly. I want to enjoy the view.”
He kisses across your collarbone as you unbutton his waistcoat.
“I’m just gonna take my jacket off, set it over there…” he tosses it across the room and it misses the chair as he locks onto your lips. “You look so good in blue.” Marcus compliments. “Almost don’t want to take it off.”
“Then you won’t see what I’ve got on underneath it,” you tease. 
He makes a noise similar to a hungry bear, and you giggle as you reach for the zip under your arm and pull it down. 
“Fuck…” he sighs as you slip the dress off to reveal a matching lace set in midnight blue. “So gorgeous,” he smiles, pulling you in for another deep kiss. 
“You like it?”
“I love it…” He says, as his fingers trace the strap down from your shoulder, over the delicate cup, and he squeezes gently around your breast. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
You both chuckle as he walks you backwards towards the bed as you push his waistcoat off. You pull on his tie, bringing him closer so you can taste his lips again. 
Sinking into its plush comfort, Marcus climbs over you. The soft lighting casts a warm glow, creating an intimate, serene atmosphere. He kicks off his shoes as you loop his tie out from under the collar and toss it to the floor.
“See what kissing you does to me,” you whisper, guiding his hand down between your legs, and he groans when feels how warm and damp it is there. 
“Quiero que te sientas muy bien…” (I want to make you feel really good) He whispers back.
“You always make me feel so good, Marcus.” You assure.
He smiles crookedly as you reach for his crotch.
“How you doing, big guy?” You say, stroking over the soft bulge in his slacks, and he sighs into your mouth. 
“Almost,” he pants. “Keep doing that… feels really good.” His cock although still a little flaccid, is swelling. But the Viagra needs a little helping hand to get him there.
“Do you want my mouth?”
“Oh God, yeah.” He groans and you’ve never seen a man unzip his pants so fast. 
He watches you pull out a small bottle of lube from the overnight bag. You squirt a little of it into your hands, rub them together and then slide them around his cock. He immediately groans out as you do so. 
“That feel good?” You whisper, nipping on his lobe. 
“Mmm… so good.”
A swollen, pale pink tip, and grey, wiry hairs that are trimmed almost to sparsity around his thick, heavy balls, greet you as you stroke and pump. Marcus has always harboured a generous sized manhood between his thighs, and aging certainly hasn't denied him of that as the throbbing length of him feels so good in your hands.
You grip a little tighter, making him work as he pushes his hips into your fist, almost like he’s fucking it.
“Oh wow!” He grunts. 
You kiss over his belly, down into his thighs and then take him in your mouth, cock swollen and hardening fully around your tongue as you suck on him. He tastes good, he’s always tasted so damn good. 
He repeatedly gathers your hair up, stylishly streaked with it's own grey, but it falls out of his grip, continually obscuring his view. He swipes it into a ragged, messy pony between his fingers in time to see you let your saliva dangle from your mouth and drip onto his head. 
“Fuck…” he whines, as you sink his cock back into your mouth. It’s rock solid now, throbbing against your tongue. “God, I fucking want you…” He grunts with those delicious expletives tumbling out of him in that way when he gets all worked up.
“Want you inside me, Marcus.” You moan into his mouth. 
He pulls down the cup of your bra and sucks your nipple into his mouth, and you both groan out in delight. 
“How do you want me?” He asks, removing his shirt fully.
“Lay with me, beside me so I can kiss you.” You pant, unclipping your bra and removing your panties.
Once you’re both fully naked, he shuffles up behind you, taking your leg and folding it over his arm. He kisses you, tongue slipping into your mouth as you reach down and guide his thickness against your folds.
"Wait, do you-"
“I don’t need any lube, you’ve got me so wet, Marcus…” You pant as you swipe him against you, up and down, covering him in your slick. 
You hear him growl in your ear as he pushes in, slipping through into you with ease.
“Just slides right in.” He agrees. “Fuck! You feel so good. So wet for me.”
The lewd sounds of his cock coated in your slick provides the background noise to your mutual pants and whines as he pushes in and out.
“Damn, this is such a beautiful pussy. Oh God.”
“Yours.”
“Mine.” He pants.
He kisses your knee, your cheek, your breast, your mouth - all within easy reach as his hips push back and forth, his cock sinking deeper into you with each gentle thrust. 
“Oh, you feel so good,” he whines. 
“Mmm, Marcus.” 
“You can feel me, hmm? Right here?” He places his large palm flat on your lower abdomen and presses down a little and you groan. 
“Right there!” You sigh, smiling. 
You gasp as his fingers slip down onto your clit, circling around and around as he kisses you again. You feel that delicious buzzing on it from his fingers and you shudder and grin into him. 
“I love that so much.”
“I know you do,” he smirks. You whine when he does it again. Little flares of electricity pulsing through you.  
He’s pressed flush against you, balls deep into your cunt, and rubbing your clit. Gentle, rhythmic strokes and you kiss around his lips and neatly trimmed beard. He nuzzles his nose across yours, smiling deeply into you. 
“Marcus… feels so good. Don’t stop…” You pant. He can feel you squeezing already; your breath more ragged as it pelts him in the face.
“Come for me,” he coos, as you grip onto his wrist; your thighs shaking as your clit pulls tighter under his buzzy ministrations. “Look at you, so beautiful. Come for me.”
He delves deeper, pushing that thick cock as far as it’ll go in this position - his crackly fingers gliding across your clit faster as you mewl and whine. You buck and push back, your body shaking and tensing. Your gasps reach higher pitches as you feel it rising within you. 
“So beautiful when you come for me. Tan hermoso... Quiero sentirlo. Quiero sentirte venir para mí. Ven toda sobre mí…” (So beautiful... I want to feel it. I want to feel you come for me. Come completely over me.) 
And that does it; the hushed whispers of the Spanish dirty talk flooding warm in your ear ignites the spark that crackles down your spine and floods in your core. 
“Así es, joder, te sientes tan bien alrededor de mi verga.” (That's right, shit, you feel so good around my cock)
“Oh fuck, Marcus, the way you speak like that-”
“I know, why do you think I do it?” He grins into your cheek, his tongue licking against it. “Porque sé que te gusta y te pone tan húmeda para mí. No puedes evitarlo, ¿verdad?, cuando hablo tan sucio así, ¿hmm?” (Because I know you like it and it makes you so wet for me. You can't help it, right, when I talk dirty like that, hmm?)
You nod, smiling and heated. “Sí, sí, sí…” (Yes, yes, yes)
He continues to slide in and out of your pussy, making you groan with each measured thrust.
“Let me ride you,” you say, sucking on his bottom lip.
“You won’t get no protest from me,” he grins. 
You straddle him, feeling him fill you full of him again as you sink down, all the way down on him. 
“Oh God,” he whines. “Thats it, that’s it… fuck. Fuck yes!”
“Marcus!”
“Feel good like that? Taking my cock so deep, mi dulzura… Oh shit!” He pants as you ride him harder. “That’s it, take it, take it, take it… It’s all yours. I’m all yours.” (My sweetness)
He likes watching you as you ride him, moving that bit faster, winding your hips more intensely as you draw closer to your peak. He likes to kiss you and suck your nipples as you work.
You watch him lick his thumb and press it against your clit, nodding and smiling at you to come for him, almost begging he wants it so bad - wants you so bad. You cry out as those crackles flood your core, making you clench and writhe.
He’s floored, watching as you glow riding on his cock like this. Unable to form words, you’re so beautiful. The fact he can still make you feel like this, even when his body can’t or won’t cooperate, stuns him. 
“F-Fuck…” Marcus can only stammer on a barely there whisper as you lean in to kiss him some more, feeling your pussy contract and rib around him as you come undone. 
You collapse gently on top of him, and he wraps his hands around your waist.
More often than not, he can't finish, especially with the Viagra. Just keeping him stiff and for your pleasure, which he’s more than happy with and to indulge in. “Just want to feel you come, mi dulzura.” (My sweetness)
Every time you come around him, he feels it, sees the joy and bliss in your eyes, hears the mewls and pants into the pillow, dusted over his lips. He’ll give you this, all of him as long as he can. As long as he’s able.
The mind is willing, but sometimes… sometimes the body can’t quite keep up anymore.
You’d both talked about it the first time it happened. The first time he lost his erection and couldn’t finish. He was so embarrassed, on the verge of tears and feeling like he'd let you down. But your reassurances and love, peppered with longing kisses, convinced him it was nothing to worry about. So he didn’t.
And he did the same for you, when you struggled to get wet sometimes. It wasn’t that he didn’t turn you on, because he sure as hell did. He still does every time you look at him - he takes your breath away.
But sometimes your body doesn’t want to play ball too, and you’ve both discovered ways to still enjoy sex together with some helpful aids such as toys, lubricant, some blue pills, but most of all, patience.
Switching up positions when you both tire easily and your joints won’t meld you into adventurous positions anymore. Spending time kissing and fawning over one another. Just being in his arms is more than enough.
You both enjoy pulling pleasure out of one another with no hurried pace or shame about how your bodies have changed, and continue to change. Your breasts have stretch marks and hang lower now, the skin under your arms flaps about a bit more - your own tummy is crinkled with wrinkly skin. And yet he always makes you feel beautiful when you’re naked in his arms.
His cock struggles to get hard without assistance now, his balls hang lower and the skin around his own waist and back is looser too. But you still desire him, you still love every single inch of him. 
You’re growing old together; something that both of you are lucky to experience and embrace wholly, together.  
Marcus whimpers, ragged little cries escaping his throat as you come around him. Your pussy is tightening and feeling so good that he can barely contain himself. And he’s so beautiful to you now just as he was when you first met him in that restaurant on your first date together. 
He still has that golden tanned skin from tending to his garden lovingly in the hot sun. Painted with some paler lines across his stomach and pubic bone where the sun doesn’t reach. The little sag of his belly from gaining a bit of weight now that he's not working out every day. A head of silver hair, almost snowy white entirely, replaces his dark curls. Liver spots and wrinkles appear in places they weren’t before.
Now in his mid-sixties, Marcus carries the weight of his years with a distinguished grace that speaks of a life well-lived and battles hard-fought.
Despite his enduring strength, age has brought with it a touch of forgetfulness too. He might occasionally misplace his glasses, only to find them perched atop his head after a thorough search. His keys sometimes elude him, turning up in the most unexpected places, like the refrigerator shelf or the bathroom sink.
These small lapses are met with laughter and gentle teasing from you, and you always help him find his missing items with a patient smile. One morning recently at breakfast, he hesitated, trying to remember if he’d taken his morning vitamins. But you, ever attentive, nudged the pill bottle toward him with a knowing smile.
"You didn't take them yet," you said, your voice filled with affection.
"Thanks," he replied, a bit sheepishly. "What would I do without you?"
"You'd manage," you’d teased, "but it wouldn't be nearly as much fun."
These moments, far from diminishing him, add to his character, painting a picture of a man who has lived fully and continues to do so with grace and humility. His forgetfulness becomes a part of your shared experiences, something that brings you closer and provides moments of light-hearted humour and tender connection.
“Oh fuck, you look good on top like this, so good on top… like that, that’s it. Oh God, use me. Keep doing that…” He’s drawn back to you, to this moment where you garner some more strength to keep going.
“Marcus!” You cry as you grind a little harder. 
“I just wanna hold you right here…” He pulls your forward and keeps you in place, crushed against his chest as he thrusts up into you. “God, you’re so hot, I can’t get enough of you!” He pants.
“Oh fuck, Marcus! I’m gonna come again!” 
“Yes, come, come, come, come…” He chants in your ear. 
You wriggle and squirm in the throes of your pleasure. He grips onto you tighter and pushes himself deeper into you. 
“Marcus!” You call out, your eyes rolling back. 
Gripping onto his shoulders, he almost roars as you come again, body tensing and sweat pouring off of him. You can hear him wheezing in the back of his throat as you shake and tense above him.
Then, a small whimper rolls off his tongue as he strokes your back, hearts thudding against one another. 
He taps over his heart. “Oh shit, it’s beating like crazy.”
“You okay?”
“Oh yeah, I’m fine.” He chuckles breathlessly.
“Don’t wanna give you a heart attack.” You smirk.
“No, no, no. I’m good, really good. Although, it'd be a good way to go.”
“I don’t know CPR.” You muse. 
“I know the hymen-lick manoeuvre.” He waits for a second, before you burst out laughing. 
“That was terrible!” You cackle at his stupid joke. 
“You laughed, it counts.”
You hear him giggle, and then you giggle too as he looks at you with deep, brown eyes. 
“Not bad for an old guy, hmm?” Marcus smiles, nuzzling into you. 
“Not bad at all.” You agree, planting your lips on his. 
“I love you. Te quiero.” (I love you)
“Te quiero mucho.” You reply, kissing the tip of his nose. (I love you so much)
You lay there together for a while, cuddled up to him and savouring the tender, peacefulness between you.
“You wanna go again? I’m still hard. Will stay like that for a few hours…” Marcus grins. 
You snort, laughing into his lips. “Are you trying to finish me off?” 
He nods. “I’m banking on the life insurance policy. This wedding has cost me a fortune. I need to top up.”
“You’ll be lucky. Christ, I can only imagine what it would say on my death certificate.”
“Fucked to death.” He chuckles, pulling you against his chest, and you can’t help but laugh with him. 
"You silly man." You smirk, planting a kiss into his neck.
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The following morning, you both spend time together in the elegant bathtub, washing and caressing one another in the fragrant soapy bubbles.
You lay in his lap as he strokes you gently to a soft orgasm with wet fingers, and tells you how much he loves you. You take your time with him, stroking his cock in your foamy hand until he eventually bursts, spilling warm and pearly over your grip, shaking and panting into your mouth.
You smile, watching Marcus pull on a soft sweater, and then you both laugh as he realises, whilst putting his suit in the suit bag, that he’s put it on backwards. 
Once dressed and packed, you both head down for breakfast in the Manor House’s elegant dining room. The room is bathed in warm morning light, with large windows offering a stunning view of the lush gardens outside.
The table is set with fine china and an array of delicious breakfast options, from fresh fruit and pastries, to a variety of hot dishes on offer and cooked to order.
Marcus pours out fresh coffee and you pick Marcus a fruit bowl whilst you wait for Missy and Sam to join you both as previously arranged.
You feed pieces of melon into Marcus’s mouth. He eyes you suggestively as he sucks your fingers free of the syrup. 
“Mmm,” he murmurs with a wink behind his dark-rimmed specs as he leans in to plant a sugary-sweet smooch on your lips.
"You two are worse than teenagers," Missy teases, a playful glint in her eyes. "How do you still act like this in your sixties?"
Marcus grins and squeezes your hand. "Love only gets better with age, muñeca." (Doll)
You smile softly, leaning into his shoulder. "We've had plenty of practice," you add, your eyes twinkling. "Besides, we're just setting a good example for you two."
Sam raises his coffee cup in a toast. "Well, if we end up half as in love as you two when we're your age, we'll consider ourselves very lucky."
Missy smiles warmly, looking at you both with a mixture of admiration and amusement. "Alright, alright, I get it. Love doesn’t have an expiration date. But still, maybe keep the lewd PDA to a minimum while we eat?"
Marcus laughs, his eyes glimmering with joy and pats your thigh affectionately. "No promises, but we'll try to behave.” He looks at you, with a cheeky glint in his eye. “For now..."
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I really hope you enjoyed reading this story with Marcus, and welcome your comments/thoughts. I'd appreciate a re-blog if you liked it so others can find it on their dash to read and enjoy too - thank you very much! 🖤
BODIES MASTERLIST
MAIN MASTERLIST
MARCUS MORENO MASTERLIST
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monster-disaster · 1 day
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i’ve been really insecure abt my appearance which is just making my depression even worse. would you please be able to write something with a ghost or shadow monster bf comforting the reader in both a fluffy and smutty way?? no rush for this btw😊😊
ghost!boyfriend x human!Reader Good to know: angsty with comforting boyfriend, smut
A/N: I hope my story gives you a moment of peace and comfort. :)
By the time you arrive home, take a shower, and settle in front of the TV, you are exhausted and ready to do nothing for the rest of the night. You are utterly spent, both physically and mentally. You are at your limits and unsure how to take back your control of your own self. The reins slip out of your fingers no matter how tight you try to hold them.
There are days when you feel content and happy in your own skin, savoring the world and its offerings. These days, though cherished, are often very fleeting. Sometimes, sometimes more often than you would like, you have to face the difficult days when everything seems to go awry. The world around you feels too tight, pressing in from all sides to the point you can barely stand underneath it with your own overwhelming thoughts. These days demand more from you than you feel capable of giving. On these days, you need more strength and understanding, but it's not always so simple. It barely ever is.
You are nestled on the couch, wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and comfort. The soothing scent of your favorite lotions lingers, and your freshly laundered pajamas are soft against your skin. The blue glow of the TV illuminates your small living room, casting a gentle hue over the furniture. The aroma of your favorite takeout on the coffee table drifts through the air. Though your stomach rumbles, you remain still. There is not a single fiber in your body that you can make to move; instead, you melt even further into the pillows behind you.
Sometimes, it's easier to take care of yourself physically than mentally, although definitely not always.
There are days, or even weeks when you can go above and beyond to break free from the shadows of your mind, but it's still not enough. Your brain remains trapped in this gloomy, exhausting place where nothing is enough and everything is too much. You don't do enough, and you are not good enough, while the world is too much, and sometimes you are too much, and even though you know deep down that it's not true, it's hard to remind yourself every now and again and again. These fights with your own mind leave you drained and spent.
Fortunately, you don't have to face these days alone.
You never have to be alone when you are at home.
You sense his presence long before you feel his touch or see the gentle shift of your blanket as he slips beside you. His presence wraps around you like a second layer, clinging to your skin with a warmth that sends tingles through your body. A relieved sigh leaves your lips, and you snuggle closer to the comforting feeling seeping into your bones.
"I'm fine," you break the silence. The memory of your exhale lingers in your words. His disapproval is clear and heavy in the air. You curl into yourself even more. "I will be fine," you correct yourself after a few seconds. You don't have to hear or see your ghost to know what he wants. You just know it.
The plastic container on the coffee table moves closer, but you shake your head, pulling the cover tighter around yourself. "I will eat it later." Another wave of disapproval washes over you, but he leaves the topic for now. Instead, his presence envelopes you even more, curling around your body and settling over your shoulders. Your eyelids fall shut at the caressing motion through your hair, massaging your scalp and drawing small circles on the nape of your neck.
Pulling your legs closer to your chest, you rest your head on the back of the couch. "Thank you," you hum.
"I don't know what went wrong today."
The moment you opened your eyes this morning, you knew you would have to face one of those days when your mind acts like your enemy while you try to drag yourself through your chores with heavy limbs and an even heavier chest. The clouds were dark and thick above your head all day, and nothing you did chased them away.
"I'm just tired," you tell him while the TV goes on in the background.
You tried to make your day better, to make yourself feel better, but it was a lost cause from the moment you looked at yourself in the mirror. Nothing felt right as you stared at your own reflection, finding every flaw with merciless criticism and unforgiveness. Your skin felt too tight, and your features looked too wrong. You changed your clothes again and again and again, but nothing was good enough. It seemed like every one of your dresses and blouses and trousers highlighted all the wrong things in all the wrong ways.
"I know they are not true," you continue, motioning to your head. "My thoughts, I mean. But it's so hard to make myself believe in the opposite."
The invisible hands go down from your hair to your neck and to the soft curve that leads to your shoulders. Fingers dig into your skin through your shirt, rubbing against your muscles. You lean forward automatically, letting your head dip to your chest with a soft sigh. The hands slip to your shoulder blades, following the straight line of your spine and spreading out to find every soreness and knot.
"Thank you," you break the silence after a while, keeping your eyes closed. You can feel yourself gradually relax under your ghost's ministrations. You know your problems won't solve themselves because of a massage, but right now, they move back to the back of your mind, letting you breathe again after a whole day.
You are ready to fall asleep just like that, sitting with your legs crossed when his hands slip under your shirt like a light summer breeze. Your back straightens immediately, and you reach out to grab and stop nothing. Your fingers curl into your palm. Your nails dig into the soft flesh there.
The air freezes for a second. "Wait!" You gasp.
For a long moment, nothing happens. "I-" You want to say something to break the tension, but your words get stuck in your throat when the warm sensation from your side glides to your hand. You can feel his fingers slipping through yours as he lifts your arm into the air, and soon, you can feel his lips brushing over your knuckles.
You still don't know how a ghost can make you feel so much, but you welcome it gratefully.
He plants soft kisses on your hand until you calm down, and he can continue his way under your clothes. The soft fabric falls to the couch beside you silently after a few minutes. He moves slowly and carefully, letting you melt against the pillows behind you once again while the warmth of his touch creeps over your sides to find rest on your bare breasts. He cups the soft globes, stroking his thumbs back and forth over your nipples.
You know he is behind you, kissing up and down on your neck while groping your tits and caressing your heated skin. Your back arches, pushing yourself into his palms even more, and your mind is blank and hazy with pleasure. Shivers run through your spine with every circling motion and gentle tug on your nipples. By the time he decides to wander lower on your body, they are swollen and sensitive, and every small stroke and brush feels like a strike through your body.
Your breathing is heavy and ragged. Your legs open on their own when his hand slips under your pants and panties. Your head falls back on the couch, and an impatient moan escapes your lips. His fingertips brush over your slit teasingly, smearing your wetness all over your pussy before finding your clit. He draws small circles on your aching bud, making your hips grind against his invisible touch as you chase your rapidly approaching pleasure. You can feel your climax building. The familiar knot is hot and burning in your stomach.
"Please." Your plea is soft on your tongue in the quiet room.
Your ghost rubs and flicks your clit faster and faster. Your muscles tense, and your whole body jolts when he pushes you over the edge without any warning. Your world spins as you reach your climax with another mewl. It surges through your veins, urging your heart to flutter against your ribcage. 
His lips are warm on your forehead as he kisses you while you are still panting and trying to recover.
And not even a second later, your food on the coffee table is pushed closer to you again.
Your laugh is weak and amused. "Okay, okay. I will eat."
You know your problems don't magically disappear because of an orgasm. The battles and demons that haunt you are still with you somewhere deep in your mind, demanding your attention and energy time and time again even when you feel too tired and weak to face them, but right now, the darkness of the night falls easier on your shoulders, and you know tomorrow will be another day. Maybe a better day, maybe not, but either way, you won't be alone.
So, you let yourself rest tonight, embracing the peace of the world and your mind.
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dragon-kazansky · 2 days
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Heart of the Dreaming
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Morpheus x Female Reader
Soulmate AU
You are the daughter of Rodrick Burgess. You find out about the "demon" in the basement and decide you want to see it. Things take an unexpected turn when your soulmate connection is made with the man you find down there. You are the one he has been waiting for, and you're being taken away from. Not for long. Dream will protect his soulmate.
{Masterlist}
{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}
Chapter Thirteen - Make it count
☆☆☆
When you next awoke, you felt well rested. Without Dream, you were certain you would have seen the Corianthian again. You were worried about what he wanted, and what he was capable of doing.
You rose from your bed and got changed into some comfortable clothes. As you opened your door to leave, Dream was standing there with his hand raised to knock. You both looked as startled as the other.
"How did you sleep?" He asked instantly, lowering his hand.
"Good. Thank you."
His lips break out into a small smile. "You're welcome. Always."
"I, uh, I was coming to see you."
"As was I coming to see you," he chuckles softly. The sound sends a tingle down your spine. He has a very pleasant chuckle.
"Well, I was thinking..."
"Yes?"
You sigh and try to find the words you want to use. Would he be upset with you? "Well, I was thinking, maybe, I could be used as bait for the Corianthian. See, it's this power he's after, and even though it's not your full power, he clearly thinks it's enough to use against you, and, well, if I go and pretend I'm on his side or whatever, we can lure him out and capture him."
Dream was taken back by your idea.
"No."
"What?"
"No. I cannot risk anything happening to you." He is absolute with his words. He won't risk losing you.
"You have to let me help."
"No. I was coming here and to tell you I'm going after him alone. You will be safe here. Should anything happen to me, I've taken precautions to keep you safe."
"I didn't ask you to do that." You frown at him.
"No. You didn't. I did it anyway."
You want to tell at him for being foolish, but you can't bring yourself to do it. He's trying to keep you safe.
"You need me," you say softly.
"I'll manage."
You hate that. You hate that he's going to out there without you. If you're there, he isn't at full strength. He can't possibly expect to do anything.
"Please," you beg.
"I can't let you."
There was something about the tone of his voice that hit you. He wasn't doing this to displease you. He was asking in his own way for you to stay safe.
"Okay..."
You back down. For now.
Dream hesitates to reach out and touch you. You can see his fingers twitch at his side. You do the only thing you can think to do and reach out, taking his hand. You bring it to your face and let him touch you softly.
Dream looks at you in awe. His thumb brushes along your cheek in a light touch. You feel warm.
"If I return, may we discuss our future?" He asks hopefully.
"When you return. Yes."
He smiles softly. Perhaps he can win you over after all. He caresses your cheek for a little while before dropping his hand. He looks at you, committing you to memory. He wants your face to be the only thing he thinks about.
He then leaves.
You watch him disappear down the hall and round the corner. You sigh softly. You then wait several minutes. Then you go. Down the hall, round the corner, and into the library.
Lucienne looks up when you enter and seems surprised to see you. She stands up and bows her head slightly. You feel strange being bowed to. You're not Dream. You're not a ruler.
"My lady."
You feel strange hearing that, too.
"Tell me how to get to where Dream has gone."
Lucienne hesitates. She swore to watch over you while he was gone. "I don't think that a good idea."
"Please."
The librarian can see the desperation in your eyes and hear the plead in your tone. You're worried about him. She's worried about him. If dealing with the Corianthian wasn't so dangerous, she would possibly find this endeavor almost romantic.
"There's a gateway you could use..."
"Show me."
Lucienne adjusts her glasses and then looks up at the bookshelf where Matthew is perched. He understands immediately and flies down to the table in front of you.
"Follow me." He caws.
You look at Lucienne. "Thank you."
"Stay safe," she replies.
You follow Matthew out the library and down a couple of halls. He brings you to a lone door in the middle of one hall, and you go inside. There's a tall mirror standing on its own in this room. Matthew lands on top of it.
"You can pass through here, but it's kind of a one-way thing. You'll need Dream in order to come back here," Matthew explains.
"Thank you, Matthew. I intend to return with him. He needs me."
Matthew caws. "Yeah, we know."
You chuckle softly and look at the mirror. It looks unsuspecting. Just a mirror. Your reflection looks quite ordinary, but when you reach out and touch the glass, your hand passes through. Your reflection begins to ripple. You walk slowly through the mirror.
☆☆☆
Dream walks with his hands in his coat pockets. His eyes are focused straight ahead. His mind is full of thoughts of you.
The Corianthian will not get away a third time. Dream will end this today, even if it destroys him.
He knew he needed to catch the Corianthian at some point, but him appearing in your dreams was the final straw. Dream can't let him roam any further.
He walks towar this destination. A hotel. Many mortals are gathering here. Dream looks around as he stands in the parking lot. Something felt very wrong about this place.
He enters the building.
In the trees opposite the hotel, Matthew lands on a branch and looks down, seeing Dream enter the building. Lucienne had asked him to come and keep an eye on things and to return to her if things turned sour. Matthew turns his head toward the entrance of the parking lot and waits for you to appear.
Dream walks through the lobby of the hotel and sees people queuing at the desk. He walks right past them. There's an outside area and then hall down to the left. It seems people need a pass to get down there.
He waits. Two people approach the table and sign in. Dream stands behind them a few steps, and as they turn to go down the hall, he simply slips past beside them. The man at the table is too occupied with other guests to notice him.
He walks down the long hall and passes several conference rooms. Each room is labelled differently. Dream comes to stand in the doorway of one. The people at the table have strange nicknames and they're saying strange things.
It clicks in his mind.
These people are some of the worst of the worst. These people kill others. The murdering. The slaughtering. The disgusting "art" they think they're providing.
The Corianthian was definitely here.
At the end of the hallway is a large assembly room. Much bigger than the others. A podium is set up at the front of the room, and many chairs have been set up to face it.
Voice and footsteps flood the hall outside the room, and Dream tucks himself up against the wall as people start to flood in. He watches as they walk past him, talking and laughing. Each of them finds a seat in this vast hall.
Dream watches from the back.
The first ten minutes of whatever this is just talking from the organisers of the event. Dream doesn't care for specifics. He knows who these people are, what they do, what they Dream about.
It's when they mention a special guest that Dream perks back up. From a side door enters the Corianthian, and Dream watches him closely. The Corianthian walks up on stage, shakes hands, and then takes the podium.
He talks about dreams. Their dreams. Their potential. It makes Morpheus sick to think about his gift being abused by one of his own creations. At least you're safe and away from here.
The Corianthian spots Dream lingering in the back and grins.
"Tell you what, all of you close your eyes. Think of what makes you happiest. Focus on that, and soon, you will find it feels so real."
Dream walks down the aisle of chairs and slowly joins the Corianthian up on the stage.
"It's not you I wanted," the Nightmare states.
"She's safe."
"Is she?" He chuckles. "You're here to stop me?"
"Yes."
There's something about the Corianthian's smile that doesn't feel right. Dream should know you're stubborn.
And just like that, Morpheus is afraid.
☆☆☆
You reach the hotel and look up at the tall building. This is where they are? It didn't matter, you supposed. You walk inside. The lobby seems really quiet apart from a few guests and the staff. You walk past the reception desk and wander further into the hotel, going down the hall at the end.
It was quiet. Well, almost. The room at the end seemed to have something going on. You could hear what sounded like a voice. Perhaps some kind of presentation.
You didn't know where else to look and decided to take a peek. You walk over to the door and push it open.
Inside is not what you were expecting, and there was no one insight. You swore you heard a voice earlier, but there was no one here.
This room appeared to be some kind of... basement, perhaps? A bare room with a table in the middle of it. The kind of table you might find in a hospital.
"Well, what do we have here?"
You turn and find yourself facing the Corianthian. Yet there was no sign of Dream. What was going on?
"I knew you would come. Especially if he came after me. You wouldn't let him come alone." He chuckles.
"You hoped this would happen..."
"That's right." He grins.
"Where are we?" You ask, looking around again. Now, there is someone else in the room. A person you don't recognise. She is standing over a body on the table. In her hand is a scalpel.
"Oh, we're in the Dreaming again. These people are dreaming. You're bringing them all here." He chuckles. "All their dreams cam come true."
"I don't understand..."
"You alone were not enough to bring them all here into one dream. I knew I'd need Dream. I knew he would protect you if I was a threat. Now, don't worry. You don't have anything to worry about. We're currently feeding from his power. Soon, you'll be the master of the dream realm."
"What...?"
"I'm using this place to feed his power into you. You can do as you please with the Dreaming once we're rid of him."
"No! Stop it!" You yell.
A couple more people have appeared in the room. They're also doing horrific things with bodies. You're afraid. He's using you to destroy Dream and make these people stronger in their dreams.
"Please stop!"
"No can do, sweetheart." He clicks his tongue casually.
You feel your heart sinking and your breathing becoming rapid. You need to stop him somehow. You need Dream.
You need him here.
"Don't listen to him."
You gasp and turn around quickly. Dream is standing in the doorway nearby, but he looks a little fuzzy. He's not here, but he's projecting an image of himself here. It's probably all he can manage right now.
"Dream?"
"Don't listen to him."
"What do I do?" You ask softly.
The Corianthian stands in front of you both. "Enough of that." Just like that, Dream fades from view. It takes everything in you not to call out for him, but it would be no use.
"Let's get started, shall we?"
☆☆☆
Dream watched the Corianthian enter the Dreaming where he knew you were. You must have followed him to the hote, and the Corianthian had known. He was using what little power you possessed to cypher his own power, weakening him.
You weren't even doing it on purpose. From the waking world, Morpheus could feel your heart breaking. He needed to get through to you. He focused and tried to project himself into the Dreaming.
"Don't listen to him."
He can almost see you. You look afraid. He wants to reach out to comfort you, but he can't. The Corianthian severs his connection to the Dreaming, and you're gone.
His scar begins to throb. Hus rubs it.
He has an idea.
☆☆☆
The Corianthian is manipulating the room around you. He's using your power. He's controlling it. No longer are you in that horrible little room with those horrible people, but now you're outside. The grass is green, and the trees are tall.
It's beautiful.
"This is Fiddler's Green. It's considered the most beautiful spot in all the Dreaming. We're going to draw all that power here." The Corianthian smiles. "Let me show you what we can do."
He takes your hand and waves it gently through the air. A woman appears in front of you. She looks around, confused, startled. She's tall, has dark hair, and is wearing comfortable clothes. She must have been at home.
"What is this? Who are you?" She asks.
"This is lady here is Lyta Hall." The Corianthian chuckles. "Her husband died some time ago. Why don't we bring him back?"
Another wave of your hand, and there's a man standing beside her. You're confused. What is this? What is this power he's using?
The man and woman look at each other.
"Hector?"
"Lyta..."
Lyta reaches out as if to check if he's real. Her palm makes contact with his cheek, and she begins to sob. They wrap their arms around each other and hold each other.
"Lyta's dream was to have a family." The Corianthian tells you. "So let's make that dream come true."
He waves your hands again, and Lyta puls away from Hector to look down. Suddenly, she has a baby bump. You yank your hand away from the Corianthian and put some distance between you both.
"Stop it! Stop all of it!"
Your scar starts to throb. You rub it gently. You're not sure if it's because of him or not that it's doing that. You take a few deep breaths.
"I've had enough. I don't want this. I don't want Dream's power. I just want him here. I want him here with me..." You speak softly. You miss him.
You close your eyes and think about him. Everything he's done for you so far. Everything he's been through. Sure, you didn't want this bond at first. Everything was too much for you to cope with, but now... now you wanted him. You wanted to see his face again. You wanted to hear his voice again.
You wanted him.
A hand reaches out and places itself on your arm. You almost scream as you scurry away. You turn to find the Corianthian hadn't moved from his previous spot. No. You find yourself looking up into familiar blue eyes.
With shake breath, you lunge at Dream and wrap your arms around him. He lets you, wrapping his arms around you. However, he trains his eyes on the Corianthian, watching him carefully.
You cling to his coat. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry!"
Dream tilts his head down and brings lifts you lr face up with his hand gently. "You don't have anything to be sorry for."
You look up at him. You're trying not to cry. His thumb brushes your chin gently as he looks at you. You're safe. You're here in his arms.
"This isn't over." The Corianthian says. Once again, he's holding a knife.
"It is." Dream states. He turns to Lyta and Hector, who are holding onto each other and watching everything with confusion and fear. Dream waves his hand in their direction. Hector fades into dust in Lyta's arms. "The dead belong with the dead.'
"You bastard..." Lyta glares at him, tears threatening to fall. Dream does not care. He waves his hand again and Lyta wakes up.
Now it's just the three of you.
"I need to undo him," Dream says. "But I'll need your help to do it."
You look up at him softly. There's only one thing you can think to do. You grab him by the coat and pull him down, kissing him suddenly.
Dream is startled by your actions, but does not attempt to push you away.
You pull away and look up at him.
"Make it count."
Dream realises what you've done. You've given him your portion of the power back through a kiss. He can feel it in his veins. He stares at you in awe.
He raises his gaze to the Corianthian and gestures for you to get behind him. However, you don't let go of his hand. You watch the two.
"You can't stop me this time." Dream tells him. He lifts his hand up toward the Nightmare.
The Corianthian seems emotional. "I am what you made me."
"I didn't make you for this."
"No?"
Dream doesn't respond. He focuses his power on undoing the Corianthian. He had thought the Corianthian had been made perfectly, but it seemed he was full of flaws. Dream would not make that mistake again.
You watch the Corianthian become nothing more than sand and a skull. Dream walks over to the sand pile and picks up the tiny skull, looking at it.
"Next time, I shall do better. I shall not make something so petty." He tucks the skull into his pocket and turns to you again. "Come here."
You look at him and walk over to him slowly. He does not falter his gaze from you. You come to a stop in front of him. Dream slowly reaches out and takes your hand. With a gentle tug he pulls you into his chest.
"You kissed me."
"I did..."
"Do it again."
You state at him in surprise. Was he serious? When you continue to just stare at him, he chuckles and makes the move himself. He brings his lips to yours and kisses you softly.
You feel like you're walking on air.
It's over relatively quickly, but he gently presses his forehead against yours and smiles.
"Let go home."
You smile. "Yeah."
☆☆☆
@deniixlovezelda - @missdreamofendless - @kpopgirlbtssvt - @meganlpie - @thoughtsfromlayla - @ladyjbrekker
@mwaaaaaugh - @bluespecs14 - @intothesoul - @lady-violet - @navs-bhat - @krahk - @oldsoulmagic
@rubyrose2014 - @lorkai - @roxytheimmortal - @star-maker-rain-dancer - @intothesoul - @gemini-mama - @whotperlinda
@dreamingblueberries - @the-shadow-of-aurora - @novavida - @blackgirlmagicforever
@permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 - @hopshusushi - @sloppyzengarden - @thecraziestcrayon -
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Writeblr Intro
Hello! I'm Leo and I am returning to the writeblr community after a good long break. This specific tumblr is new, I figured I'd have a new start! My pronouns are she/her and I am currently 29 years old. I'm always down for chatting. I promise I don't bite.
Some genres I'm especially fond of:
Fantasy (All, especially Urban)
Scifi
Historical fiction
Trope subversions
Fairy Tale Rewrites
Horror
My Current W.I.P.'s:
Anomalous
Vladmire had founded Haven's Nook under the idea of creating a place for other Supernatural folks to build a community. A home of their own, even. It was a place to raise their own families without fear of being chased or lynched.
And, centuries later, that's exactly what it has become. Between the local werewolf pack and witch coven, there is no safer place for the supernatural. There was little capable of threatening their peace.
That is until Vlad's family finally finds him. His parents and siblings have decided to visit Haven's Nook. Their excuse? His long term lover, Aerin, has finally proposed.
Now Vlad must ensure his family does not destroy his home and life's work while planning his own nuptials.
Main Characters:
Vladmire Skoll (Vampire; Founder of Haven's Nook)
Prince Aerin (Fae Prince)
Side Characters:
Arthur and Damien McClellan (The Vampire twins)
Craig Ethan (Alpha Werewolf)
Aaron Stevens (Craig's 2nd in Command)
Tabitha and Sean Schmidt (Werewolf Couple)
Russell Kwiatkowski (Tabitha's Human Nephew)
Meredith Lusk (Spiritual Leader; Coven Leader)
Telly Migdal and Charmaigne Bolvick (Witch Cousins)
Details:
Stand Alone Novel
Urban Fantasy; Romance; LGBT+
Currently being Written
The Dragon's Suitors
Weylan, the current Settlement Dragon of Sylian, has five suitors. Becoming a Settlement Dragon's Spouse is a great honor after all. And now it is time for Weylan to choose her own.
Main Characters:
Weylan Drake
The 5 Suitors:
Catherine- Local Baron's Daughter
Iris- Son of the advisor for the Local Duke
Vesper- Renowned Blacksmith
Astor- Heir Apparent
Tildy- The King's Bastard
Details:
Stand Alone Novel
Fantasy; Romance; LGBT+
Currently being Written
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skania · 3 days
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OnK Chapter 150
Honestly, the naive part of me wants to believe Aka is doing this in purpose, because this chapter alone highlighted like half the reasons why I find romantic!Aqua and Kana so poorly written lmao
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Compare that to this:
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The writing in Aqua's and Akane's is so much better it's unreal 😂
I'm so glad to have confirmation that Goro's regrets were appeased by knowing that Sarina is living her best life as Ruby. Goro acting like an over-protective dad and Aqua reaffirming that Ruby is his precious little sister were the highlights of the chapter for me. Figures that once Aka finally gives us some Aqua insight, he immediately makes it clear where Aqua stands in regards to Ruby lmao
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Goro is often personified as the guilt and regrets Aqua carried into this new life, but he is much more than that.
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He is an entire framework of thoughts, complexes and experiences right there at the center of the individual we have come to know as Aqua. He is the entire base Aqua is built on, because when he reincarnated, he was just Goro - albeit a Goro thrown into a completely different situation, and a completely different life.
Of course, the longer Goro lives as Aqua, the more Aqua he becomes. He has been developing a new framework of thoughts, complexes and experiences that are more befitting of his situation and based on his current life. This all results in the Aqua we've come to known.
Up to now, Aqua has been simultaneously existing as the man he once was and the young boy he has become. But the man he once was is now feeling at peace knowing that Sarina-chan has gotten a new chance at life, which leaves the young boy he has become with one less reason to cling to a painful past.
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But things aren't that easy, as evidenced by the fact that even after being "freed" by his past guilt, Aqua still has his black stars. As Aqua, he has regrets, guilt and issues of his own to overcome.
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But it isn't just the revenge and the guilt, really. This, for example, is a confusion that has followed Aqua into his new life:
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Which takes me to...
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It's so incredibly ironic that it's "Goro" of all people who brings up Kana 😭 I've mentioned before that Kana has a lot of parallels with Ai and Sarina, and I theorized this may be one of the reasons why Aqua seemed so drawn to her from the get-go. And now we have Goro himself, the one who originally admired all of those traits, saying that Aqua likes Kana. It's like clockwork, except the clock may be broken.
The reasons Goro cites are so shallow and superficial, too. Perfectly fitting for an Oshi or a teenage crush, but hard to think of as anything deeper than that (for me, at least).
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Which is even more ironic, because we end the chapter with Kana declaring herself as "seriously in love" with Aqua, when she herself does nothing but describe him superficially 😭
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Kana has been basically living a shoujo manga in her head and Aqua is her chosen Male Lead 😂 It's like that time she thought Aqua was "straight and sincere", or when she thought Akane was a "goody-two-shoes".
Meanwhile, Aqua and Akane:
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Poor Kana is out of her depth in this manga, but maybe that's the point. Kana is perfectly normal and that's just what Aqua needs am I right?
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Seriously though, that's why I've always said that to me it doesn't really matter if Aqua and Kana end up together, because their writing is just... not it 😭 It's always just one giant trope without any depth of substance. It's no coincidence that these last three chapters are filled with tropes and forced writing. That's the way this ship has always been written in my eyes, and that's why it does nothing for me regardless of whether it's intended to be canon or not 😭
Even this, for example:
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Aqua confirming (yet again) that he has been aware of Kana's romantic feelings all along could back-up what I said here and here. But at the same time, this could just be part of something as simple and unsubtle as this:
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It's like there are two wolves within Aka. One is great at subtlety and organic development, and the other completely sucks at it 😂
But enough about that, I'm sure Aka will give me plenty to complain about next chapter so I'll save it until then lmao
Hmmm where have I seen this before?
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Oh, right!
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Funny how Akane is magically not brought up this chapter. If we assume Aka is just writing obvious stuff without deeper meaning, then Akane isn't brought up because Aka considers Chapters 97 & 98 as their romantic closure. Or maybe all the theories about Aqua being a scumbag that only dated Akane because Kana wasn't available were right. But considering that would make Aqua trash not worth discussing, I can only hope Aka won't stoop that low lmao
If we give Aka the benefit of the doubt (does he even deserve it at this point tho), then Goro not bringing up Akane can be pretty fitting. Because if Aqua likes Akane, it wouldn't be because she fits the ideals and tastes of the man he once was. It would be because of everything they have been through together as Aqua and Akane.
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Case in point, when Aqua thought of Kana and Akane back when he first thought he was free, he did so as fully himself. But I digress! 🤡
Another thing that caught my eye is that Aka deliberately changed the number of chapters in the previous volume just so these Aqua-Kana focused chapters can be in the same volume as the Aqua-Ruby focused ones. Ruby, who mainly loves Aqua because he once was Goro and Kana, who just loves Aqua. Maybe he's doing it to contrast them (in favor of Kana, duh), or maybe he wants to show they're two sides of the same infatuation coin. One can dream, at least!
Speaking about not nice though, what the fuck is this 😭 I know Akane is trying to push Kana's buttons, but baby girl is switching from I-only-see-him-as-a-son!! I swear!!! to Haha actually! so swiftly that she's going to give herself whiplash. Plus, can't Aka let Akane push Kana's buttons while saying less OOC stuff? Granted, it's not like Kana knows Akane well, so of course she doesn't think it's weird for Akane to say that she wants to be with a boy on Christmas lmao
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Poor Akane has gotten her eyes shut so tightly close that it's a wonder she doesn't walk into walls. She's really acting like a robot on auto-pilot 😂 When in the world will you be allowed to have a chapter of your own, Akane? When will we be able to look into your heart?
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Hello!!
I'm back to crack posting about my favourite shows and/or characters! =D
We Are ep 8 was gold. It had comedy, friendship, silliness and romance in the absolute perfect amounts.
Warning: long post 😊😅
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This scene with Peem and Matt is peak comedy. I rewatched it so many times hehe
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Phum: I'm gonna ignore every inch of space to stand right beside you. <3
Peem: *bombastic side eye*
Also Peem: *leans into him*
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Khaofang woke up today and chose violence 😭👍🏼
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Let's be honest though, that was not the sibling we'd expected to throw fists.
Meanwhile, Toey: that's my hia Fang 😊
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Isn't that the million dollar question Mick 😭
If they got together already, how would the series run for 16 eps 😭
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Toey with his hias ^ (also Matt edging him on like he's in a competition I'm dying 😭)
Toey with his P'Q:
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However savage Q may be, he still shares the same braincell with his friends 😭👍🏼
IT WAS SO MEAN OF THEM TO MAKE MATT PAY WHEN THEY'VE HARDLY EVEN TAKEN A SIP! T-T
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Peem before, when Phum even touched him: LET GO YOU ASSHOLE
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Peem now: *fond, indulging smile* what do you want to do?
*shakes head with a sigh* boys in love ay
The motorcycle 'hold me tightly' trope being reused with a bicycle aka how to make them sit even closer
Peem saying so-so when Phum asks if he looks handsome: Peem, babe, you were the one who called him handsome first remember? 😭
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What secretly. Phum was about as subtle as football directly hitting your painting (yes I think I'm very funny).
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With all due respect, please get the f out and let my boys be. Please and thank you. :)
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^This is the answer to any question about Pun. 😭👍🏼
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This scene is so, so beautiful. I am absolutely loving how they’re giving friendship/platonic love as much importance as romantic love because yes. I've been waiting for a bl like this forever (or at least since I got into bls hehe-). Bad Buddy and MSP came close, but We Are took the trophy. They love each other so much. Kill for each other? Nah, they'd go together and make that person's life living hell, and that would make my day.
I really really love that they're still so silly with each other in college, and are close to and comfortable enough with each other to be able to be childish and play in the middle of the day, to be each other's safe space.
This friendship is so precious and close to my heart. Even more than the romantic parts of the story, this is what makes me want to watch this series every week to see what new shenanigans they've got up to.
I love them. So much.
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Beer is me, I am Beer.
Smiling at them so softly. Oh, he knows. And he ships. 👍🏼
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This scene was also so beautiful.
They've finally started acknowledging that there's something between them.
I think more than Phum being unable to express himself, he's taking small steps to guage how Peem reacts. He wants them to be on the same page before he takes the next step.
Like with the kiss, he didn't hesitate to talk about it, to tell how much it means to him and then kiss Peem again. But he waited until Peem kissed him first, and till he was sure that Peem wanted to talk about it.
I really like this about him. He's not taking a step back per se, just making sure that when he takes a step forward, he's not leaving Peem one step behind.
Phum explains again and again how Peem is his safe space (his dialogues this time reminding us of Peem's little speech to his own friends and Fang talking about why he likes Tan with Phum), to make sure Peem knows.
It's already been told to us how alone he's been most of his life, so Peem and his ragtag group of friends is very new for him, but it's fun, and it not only brings him closer to Peem but also a friend group - a support system he didn't really have before. Sure, he has Fang, Beer and Mick, and Tan, but it's nothing like this silly little group that puts paint on each other then plays with water and gets almost black out drunk on a regular basis.
Also, did anyone else notice the two matching rainbow coloured jars behind Peem here? No? 👀
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Simp. (affectionate)
I always love these call scenes where one of them somehow travels through his cell phone to land in the other's bed hehe
Peem is so done with Phum and his branded fashion outfits 😭😭
"You were born in Thailand."
Pond and the "I'm Thai" meme 😭
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wait.
A bl lead realising he likes someone (his romantic interest) all on his lonesome??
Colour me surprised!
I actually didn't think I'd get to see this happen ever in a Thai bl, but good for him lol
So that's that for this week! If you've gotten this far, thank you so much for reading! 😊
Here, have a bubble tea 🧋
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tagged by @imogenkol and @thesingularityseries thank you both <3
Got a few things i'm working on right now, I am all over the place with my WIPs lately. But first some art:
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On vacation this week and with the little in preschool I can delve into some major line art with this piece because I have the time and the patience. (saved the weapons for very last because I hate the intricacy of them and the body armour took enough time) Thinking this one will likely stay grey scale rather than color.
And some writing, a little snippet from the end of chapter 1 of "Penumbra" aka the Ladyhawke AU:
Dusk begins to settle, the sun fading through the shivering oak leaves that rustle in the wind. Striations of coral and tangerine blend like watercolours in the sky, dripping into one another as the trees darken into silhouette in the foreground. The last calls of the birds are a witness to the coming night and Price’s hackles begin to rise. He’s on edge, a common occurrence the closer the moon comes to rising. He needs a place to settle, to rest, travel can wait once more for the harsh light of the sun.
“We’ll make camp,” he says offhandedly, over his shoulder to his newest companion, the first one who can actually answer back in years. 
Pulling on the reins he slows Nikolai’s gallop to a saunter as they look for a clearing, and through a thicket of trees, an old serfdom farm comes into view. In the falling darkness it’s hard to tell whether the farm is in a worthwhile state or whether it's worn to nothing but rotted wood, there’s little else around for shelter and the prickle of his nerves down his spine and his clenching knuckles tell Price there’s no point in looking further, time won’t wait any longer for him. The closer they get it's easy to see that the roofs of every structure have caved inwards from the deluge of rain received in the winter, shingles crumbling, walls splintered and bowing under the pressure of standing stable without any upkeep. They’ll make do for one night, carrying on in the morning. Tying Nikolai to the nearest sturdy oak tree, Price unloads the pan and pot for cooking, ordering Garrick to go collect the firewood. 
Alone at camp, he unloads the final saddle bag, pulling the tiny lamb from inside it and cradling it in his strong arms. A calloused finger caresses the underside of the animal’s chin as large eyes stare up at him. Heart squeezing in his chest, his brow furrows as he looks down at the little being in his arms, so totally reliant on him. He wishes he was deserving of the trust she gives him – he knows he’s not. 
Carrying his most prized possession over to the barn, Price places the woolly creature down on the cloak he has draped on the hay for her. A large hand that covers nearly the entire head of the lamb strokes softly, his thumb drifting upwards along the snout against the soft wool between dark mirror-like eyes. “Rest well, my girl,” he whispers in a husk. His armour sits tight on him as muscles begin to expand and shift with the coming night, as the first stars begin to twinkle his chest swells and his back wants to hunch. He hates this in-between stage, where he can feel himself slipping away, losing himself to an instinct that isn’t even his own – everything that makes the man falls by the wayside as the silver light of moonglow threatens to overwhelm the dying sun. Stripping himself of his last vestiges of clothing, folding them neatly, handling them with the pride and respect they deserved, he packs them away. Left bare, the chill of the night settling into the scars on his skin and the patches of hair that start to sprout from him, he looks over at the little lamb resting curled up. He sighs, knowing the time will come where once more he’ll have only a fleeting moment with her. A sight for sore eyes that lasts for a fraction of a second before they are once more separated. It never gets any easier, a constant burden that follows him – Always together, forever apart. 
The sun finally dips down, darkness blanketing the world and crickets begin to chirp as the quiet of night takes the helm, and before him as he reaches out his hand, watching it transform into a massive paw with black sickled claws, stands the woman he’s been aching for every day for the last five years. Unable to touch her, his heart pounds in his chest and he could nearly weep at the sight of her beauty. It’s his fault they’re trapped like this, he’s done this to her, and he could scream at the curse that hangs over their head like the executioner’s axe. She’s his whole reason for living and this is what they’ve been reduced to: a yearning that can never be ended, a lifetime of heartbreak, a loss worse than death.
But the pain relieves itself, because in the blink of an eye he is no longer a man.
tagging: @carlosoliveiraa @strangefable @cassietrn @finding-comfort-in-rain
@cloudofbutterflies92 @theelderhazelnut @josephseedismyfather @la-grosse-patate @g0dspeeed
@simplegenius042 @voidika @kyberinfinitygems @direwombat @statichvm @clicheantagonist
@tommyarashikage @aceghosts @inafieldofdaisies @raresvtm @justasmolbard
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calliesmemes · 2 days
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EPIC: THE MUSICAL — ACT ONE
ASSORTED SENTENCE STARTERS featuring lyrics and dialogue pulled from EPIC: THE MUSICAL by Jorge Rivera-Herrans, a new concept album adapting the story of Homer’s Odyssey into a musical.
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CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.
SPECIFY muse for multimuses.
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❛ I know that I’m ready. ❜
❛ I don’t think that you’re ready. ❜
❛ Know that he will grow from a boy to an avenger. ❜
❛ I could raise him as my own. ❜
❛ Please don’t make me do this. ❜
❛ The blood on your hands is something you can’t lose — all you can choose is whose. ❜
❛ This is the will of the gods. ❜
❛ You’re as old as he was when I left for war. ❜
❛ Will these actions haunt my days? ❜
❛ Every man I’ve slain is the price I pay. ❜
❛ I would trade the world to see my son and wife. ❜
❛ When does a man become a monster? ❜
❛ When does a reason become the blame? ❜
❛ Six hundred men under my command. ❜
❛ The problem’s not the distance; it’s what lies in between. ❜
❛ My kingdom is waiting. ❜
❛ So Captain, what’s the plan? ❜
❛ Look! There, in the distance. I see an island. ❜
❛ I see a light that faintly glows. ❜
❛ Something feels off here. ❜
❛ I say we strike first; we don’t have time to waste. ❜
❛ We should try to find a way no one ends up dead. ❜
❛ You can relax, my friend. ❜
❛ I can tell that you’re getting nervous. ❜
❛ Is this how we are supposed to live? ❜
❛ Here we have a chance for some adjustment. ❜
❛ Give it a try, it's not that hard. ❜
❛ This life is amazing when you greet it with open arms. ❜
❛ Whatever we face, we'll be fine if we're leading from the heart. ❜
❛ Stay back, I'm warning you. ❜
❛ Kindness is brave. ❜
❛ Have you forgotten the lessons I taught you? ❜
❛ I see you changing from how I've designed you. ❜
❛ Have you forgotten your purpose? ❜
❛ My life has one mission. ❜
❛ We'll make a greater tomorrow. ❜
❛ Enlighten me, what's your name? ❜
❛ If you're looking for a mentor, I'll make sure your time's well spent. ❜
❛ If there's a problem, we'll have the answer. ❜
❛ I still intend to make sure you don't fall behind. ❜
❛ Don't forget that you're a warrior of a very special kind. ❜
❛ It’s almost too perfect, too good to be true. ❜
❛ Who are you? ❜
❛ We’re just travelers. We come in peace. ❜
❛ What gives you the right to deal a pain so deep? ❜
❛ Your life now is in my hands. ❜
❛ I’ll take from you like you took from me. ❜
❛ There’s been a misunderstanding. ❜
❛ Maybe you and I could make a deal. ❜
❛ I’m so glad we see eye to eye. ❜
❛ If we're defeated, they're good as dead. ❜
❛ No backup, no chance for support. ❜
❛ Our foe must be thwarted right here and now. ❜
❛ Show me how great is your will to survive. ❜
❛ Stand up and fight for your lives. ❜
❛ Defeat is not allowed. ❜
❛ We must live through this day, so fight! ❜
❛ You’ve hurt me enough. ❜
❛ You won’t live through this day. ❜
❛ We must move quickly, we don't have much time. ❜
❛ But captain, what'll we do with our fallen friends? ❜
❛ We are not to let them die in vain. ❜
❛ Our comrades will not die in vain. ❜
❛ Mercy is a skill more of this world could learn to use. ❜
❛ The blood we shed, it never dries. ❜
❛ I am neither man nor mythical. ❜
❛ You're a warrior meant to lead the rest. ❜
❛ That's just like you, why should I be surprised? Selfish and prideful and vain. ❜
❛ Every time someone dies I'm the one who is left to deal with the strain. ❜
❛ This way, you won't plague my life. ❜
❛ What a waste of effort spent. ❜
❛ At least I know what I'm fighting for. ❜
❛ Since you claim you're so much wiser, why’s your life spent all alone? ❜
❛ This day, you lost it all. ❜
❛ Is it nature or divine or a blessing in disguise? ❜
❛ Our home's in sight. ❜
❛ Brace for a storm, the likes of which we’ve never seen before. ❜
❛ I'll ensure that we prevail. ❜
❛ We're taking too much damage to survive. ❜
❛ At this rate, we won't make it out alive. ❜
❛ Please don't tell me you're about to do what I think you'll do. ❜
❛ You've heard the legends; this proves they're true. ❜
❛ Don't forget how dangerous the gods are. ❜
❛ How much longer til your luck runs out? ❜
❛ I still believe in goodness. ❜
❛ I just don't wanna see another life end. ❜
❛ You're like the brother I could never do without. ❜
❛ Don’t forget how much we’ve already faced. ❜
❛ I need to talk to you in private. ❜
❛ I can't have you planting seeds of doubt. ❜
❛ I ask for your assistance so we at last can go the distance. ❜
❛ Sounds too easy, what's the catch? ❜
❛ Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. ❜
❛ The end always justifies the means. ❜
❛ Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. ❜
❛ Time for me to be the father I never was. ❜
❛ Why are my eyes and my heart and my soul so heavy? ❜
❛ It isn't very often that I get pissed off. ❜
❛ I'm left without a choice. ❜
❛ I’ve gotta make you bleed. ❜
❛ I need to see you drown. ❜
❛ Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves. ❜
❛ You are far too nice. ❜
❛ I've got no mercy left to give. ❜
❛ The line between naïveté and hopefulness is almost invisible. ❜
❛ I am your darkest moment. ❜
❛ What have you done? ❜
❛ Any last words? ❜
❛ There's only so much left we can endure. ❜
❛ I'm not a player, I'm a puppeteer. ❜
❛ I can’t sleep now knowing everything we've done. ❜
❛ I must say what a brilliant speech you gave. ❜
❛ I don't know who you are nor why you're here. ❜
❛ One wrong move, then you're done for. ❜
❛ All I hear are screams, every time I dare to close my eyes. ❜
❛ I no longer dream, only nightmares of those who've died. ❜
❛ I am the prophet with the answers you seek. ❜
❛ I see a man who gets to make it home alive, but it's no longer you. ❜
❛ How has everything been turned against us? ❜
❛ How did suffering become so endless? ❜
❛ Do I need to change? ❜
❛ What if I'm the problem that's been hiding all along? ❜
❛ If I became the monster, and threw that guilt away — would that make us stronger? ❜
❛ I must become the monster. ❜
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nogenderbee · 2 days
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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝕀𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕕 𝕞𝕖... ₊˚ˑ༄
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ anon request: HAII can i req the pjsk boys having an argument with their sensitive gf saying smth like "if u loved me u would understand" and reader be like feeling rlly guilty, maybe some comfort at the end? srry this a little long, take ur time and thank uu 🫶🏼
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Hello!! I see you picked angst~ 😈 oh boy I love angst!!!
But I did small comfort as well at the end, a bit shorter but still some comfort! So hope it makes up for it!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ angst, fluff
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✧ Akito was always bad with handling his anger... bursting out at you for smallest mistake after hard day...
✧ in short, fights weren't a rare thing in your relationship, but all that mattered that you two got your comfort at the end and forgived each other
✧ but right about his singing career were rare... but how could you just let him be do careless and push himself when it's clear he's gonna ruin his voice?
"You can take one break! RAD WEEKEND won't run from you!"
"You don't understand, I already slacked off with practice yesterday! I can't do that AGAIN!"
"Yes, you can. It's for your own good!"
"No! You still don't know what I'm talking about, do you?! If only you loved me, you'd understand what I mean..."
✧ his words hurt and he knew it, because you suddenly stopped answering and instead looked at him with hurt eyes... and he did nothing but walk away
✧ he just didn't felt like continuing this argument when it was clearly over, so he left you alone, standing in your place
✧ this time, he knows he messed up but his apology doesn't come as fast... so if you won't be the first one to apologize, it might take some time...
✧ but once he does, he has heart-to-heart conversation with you, surpassing RAD WEEKEND is important to him but so are you... and he doesn't want to loose ant of those things
"I'm sorry, I know you love me. I just... I said the things I didn't mean that day. It's just.. really important to me."
✧ for once, he has no harshness or irony in his voice, he's soft and not his "good boy persona" softness but honest one~
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
@bleachtheidiot @akitosheart @yulikesminori @toyaswif3y @miya-akane @hayillaaaaaaa @stellas-starry-stove13 @nenes-numberonefan - come get your pancakes lover!
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✧ Toya is rather more of a sweet boyfriend... you never have heated fights with him
✧ if there even is a problem between you two, you usually solve it by calmly talking together
✧ so why did that changed? He just got a bit mad for you standing on his father's side... he didn't wanted to leave you for stupid piano lessons after all!!
"That's not what I wanna do."
"I know but... if he'd stop complaining maybe it's worth a shot?"
"*sigh* If you loved me you'd understand. I'm not changing my opinion."
✧ he said it so calmly and with confidence... it was hard to believe he didn't mean all he said
✧ he didn't flee immidietly after saying it, he stayed in case you'd want to talk about anything more, but when he's met with silence, he just says farewell for now and leaves your place
✧ but he always was the first one to apologize... so after one day, he's already at your doorstep with flowers, no matter if the weather is sunny or rainy
✧ he's feeling so bad when he remembers how he treated you and that he let the argument happen in the first place
"I'm sorry, I didn't meant my words. Believe me when I say I love you and... I simply don't want to leave you for something I care way less."
✧ if you'll be still on him going with his father's will, he will do that but with big reluctance. Though as long as you forgive him, he doesn't mind
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
@bleachtheidiot @akitosheart @yulikesminori @toyaswif3y @miya-akane @toyaslove @bl4cktourmaline @r4wrclwz @stellas-starry-stove13 - come get your cookie lover!
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✧ maybe fights with Tsukasa happen but luckily, they're not that often... and you quickly get back together after them!
✧ it's honestly either you or him apologizing first, but if you're slow with apologies, it's more likely that he'll be the one who usually apologizes
✧ your fights aren't usually serious either! If anything it's smaller topics and you usually don't yell but more like speak louder... you usually discussed serious topics
✧ so what changes now? Simple, he was tired and he wanted to rest, yet you presented him 1000 ideas of what you wanna do together... yes, he is a socialable person but that much can even tire him
"I just wanted to have a little date with you! Why fant we go..??"
"I told you, I'm tired!! We can do that tomorrow!"
"Tomorrow's not gonna be a good weather for all of that... we need to go today or the ocassion's gonna run from us!"
"Why can't you understand I want to rest?! I feel like if you loved me in first place, you'd definitely understand!!!"
✧ he was a bit grumpy at that time so he quickly waved his hand at your stunned expression and went to his room, shutting the door after himself
✧ if your fight happened at his place, there's high chance Saki will take the initiative of comforting you and talking to him for you
✧ even then, he can't stay mad at you for long when it's so clear to him it's his fault for messing up
✧ he comes to you not only apologizing... but ready to get down on his knees if it meant you forgiving him
✧ he's sorry for his sudden outburst and he's not afraid of showing you exactly that
"Y/N, I'm really REALLY sorry for what I said and did... I know being tired is not an excuse but please forgive me... I promise I'll never treat you this cruelly ever again."
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
@bleachtheidiot @akitosheart @bad-the-an-enjoyer @yulikesminori @alicewinterway18 @nenes-numberonefan - come get your future star!!
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✧ Rui may be a bit sensitive due to his past relationships and friendships...
✧ maybe fights with him were extremely rare, and if they happened they were more of a heated discussion, but you also could see that he was often worried...
✧ so you could say jealousy got into him and one day, he began to he a bit more ignorant towards you
✧ so of course you asked him about it! But what you didn't expect is to hear his voice full of hatred and worry
"Why are you so mean today? I just wanted to talk!"
"Oh? Well I don't think there's anything both of us can talk about."
"You know there is... just tell me what's wrong."
"I believe if you truly loved me, you'd already know answer on that question."
✧ his answers were blunt, on top of that, he just looked at you with his eyes, not his head as he crossed his arms
✧ it was obvious he was mad but didn't wanted to talk about it, and you soon didn't saw meaning in continuing this conversation so you just stopped
✧ it definitely takes a while for him to realize it's him who messed up, but once he does realize that, he feels so bad with himself...
✧ he probably has to get small kick from his group to finally confront you and apologize properly
✧ also probably brought you flowers, chocolates or anything else that you may like and he might even go on one knee to show he's truly sorry
"I'm so sorry... I let my feeling carry me and I known now I should've never assumed the worst of you... Could you ever forgive me? Please?"
✧ and when he apologizes, you may finally get explanation on why he acted that way! So when you know that, please give that bot some reassurance!
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
@bleachtheidiot @akitosheart @yulikesminori @toyaswif3y @bl4cktourmaline @r4wrclwz @superstar-ethereal @stellas-starry-stove13 @alicewinterway18 @nenes-numberonefan - come get your crazy inventor~
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fushiglow · 3 days
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a short fic for the prompt: satosugu camellia garden date in the afterlife
hope you enjoy this bittersweet gift, @s4turn-ly 🌺 listen to 'us against the world' by coldplay for extra pain!
for this one, i took extra inspiration from all of the camellia garden art after the release of the volume 26 cover. i'm proud of this piece so it's another i'll probably upload to my ao3 eventually, but i was keen to post it before 261...
i think gojo hasn't returned... yet 😎 but he's getting ripped from the arms of his one and only and thrust back to the land of the living before the end. trust.
Camellias. It was the first thing Satoru registered. Hundreds and hundreds of pink camellias in full bloom. Strange, because it was snowing. It had started snowing when he… When he what? It tugged at the edges of his memory, like an item he’d missed off his shopping list. He supposed that probably meant it wasn’t important, whatever it was he’d forgotten. Strange for flowers to survive in this much snow though. Satoru had always liked camellias. They were a February flower and February was the month that had given him Suguru. A short month — fleeting like the flowers that blossomed around him now, fragrant and bright and beautiful. He’d always thought that February was gone too soon. Still, Satoru supposed that was what made them precious. February. Camellias. Suguru. That’s right. It had started snowing when Suguru… When Suguru… No matter. He brushed the lost thought away like the snowflake he brushed from his cheek, moving through the garden as though in a dream. Maybe Satoru was in a dream. Or maybe it was simply the heavy winter garb weighing him down. He wasn’t used to walking in geta; couldn’t remember the last time he’d worn them. Couldn’t remember much of anything before a few moments ago actually. Still, he moved forward, peering around the shrubs in search of what had brought him here. He had never been to this place before, but somehow he knew it was home. Rather, his home was here, hiding somewhere out of sight. Satoru would find him though. He’d promised, after all. He didn’t know how long he walked, trudging through untouched snow. It felt like a lifetime and no time at all, and still Satoru braved the winter in search of summer. Until all at once, there he was. His summer and his spring. His Suguru. Sitting on a stone bench, framed by pink petals and glossy green leaves, Suguru looked up as though he was surprised to see Satoru standing there. Silly. His silly Suguru. After all, Satoru had promised he’d find him and Suguru knew that, too. What other reason did he have to sit out in the snow all alone? Who else would he be waiting for if not Satoru?
When he stepped forward, the wetness on Satoru’s cheeks was hot rather than cold, but Suguru’s hand in his was like ice. Satoru brought his favourite fingers to his lips, cradling them in the warmth there. ‘You’re cold.’ How long had Satoru waited to see those blushing cheeks again? Those eyes like the sky at dawn? That smile like summer sunshine? The dusting of snow atop Suguru’s shoulders was stark white against the satin darkness of his hair. ‘Satoru?’ There was a sorrow to his voice that made no sense. ‘Why are you here?’ His skin was pale with winter, save for the flush of pink across his cheekbones. It matched the bud of his lips, as well as the bloom that Satoru picked to tuck behind his ear. Now a vision in pink, Suguru was perfect. At last, Satoru leaned down, hand trembling against Suguru’s cheek as he finally pressed their lips together. He didn’t know if the tears running down his fingers were Suguru’s or his own. He didn’t care. Satoru was home. ‘I told you I’d find you, didn’t I?’ he whispered, muffling Suguru’s sobs with his lips, kissing away his tears over and over again for as long as it took. ‘I kept you waiting and I’m sorry.’ Satoru pulled back to look at him, holding his face like the most precious thing in the world. Even with shining cheeks and swollen lips, he was beautiful. ‘But I’m here now, Suguru.’ Jerking his head from side to side, Suguru brought his hands to where Satoru’s were resting over his cheeks, squeezing his eyes shut. ‘But you’re not supposed to—’ Satoru stole the rest of the sentence from his lips, swallowing it so Suguru might never utter it again. ‘I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be,’ he insisted, giving Suguru’s face a little shake for emphasis. ‘I’m with you.’ Warm amber met icy blue and Satoru felt it, too. Some forgotten thing tapping against the sides of his skull with increasing urgency. There was something Satoru was missing — but why would he want to think about anything except Suguru? Why would he ever want to be anywhere else but here? With his happiness? His home? Whatever it was that Satoru couldn’t remember bubbled up his throat and escaped as a sentiment that shivered down the length of his spine. ‘I’ll always find you, Suguru. No matter what, I’ll find you.’ Why did the words weigh so heavy on his tongue? ‘Over and over, for as long as it takes. Alright?’ The peace that overtook Suguru’s expression was entirely at odds with the unexpected turmoil in Satoru’s heart. Kissing him so he wouldn’t have to look at it any longer, Satoru pressed a promise into Suguru’s lips. ‘I’ll find you. Always.’ Finally, he wiped the tears from those pretty pink cheeks and brushed the strands of snow-soaked hair from Suguru’s face. Drinking in his loveliness, Satoru suddenly felt afraid to close his eyes. He didn’t ask permission before settling onto the bench next to Suguru, laying his head in a soft lap. He didn’t ask permission before taking those cold fingers and winding them into his own hair either. He knew Suguru would let him. Always. Gazing up at summer framed by winter, Satoru decided he was wrong. How could the thing shining in Suguru’s eyes ever be called a curse? ‘Now, let’s just stay here a while.’ Suguru’s smile was warm enough to chase the chill from his heart. ‘Alright, Satoru.’ He didn’t dare close his eyes. ‘Let me stay a while.’
if you wanna submit a prompt or request, head over to my retrospring — make sure to read the guidelines first!
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tinytinyblogs · 1 day
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Your trusty sidekick!
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Stray kids as your brother!
hyung line, maknae line(coming soon)
💬Finally back with a new story! This post idea is thanks to this lovely person @kayleefriedchicken I'm so happy to receive requests and new ideas. Please don't hesitate to reach out, but I apologize if it takes time as I have many things to handle in real life.
Stray kids masterlist
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Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨
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Chan
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Brother Chan loves to annoy you, but he does it in the most endearing and adorable way. It’s just part of his nature to be playful and affectionate. Chan has a unique way of expressing his love, pouring it generously on all his family members, including you. His antics are always lighthearted and never cross the line; they’re meant to keep the interaction lively and engaging. He has a habit of pinching your cheeks and treating you like a little kid, even though you’ve grown up. It’s his way of showing affection, a playful reminder that he’ll always see you as his beloved sibling. Chan’s tendency to text you random things throughout the day is another one of his quirks. Though the messages might seem designed to annoy you, they’re actually his way of checking in and making sure you’re alright. Chan’s actions, whether it’s teasing you or sending you unexpected texts, are rooted in his deep care for you. He understands the importance of staying connected, and his playful behavior is his way of maintaining a close bond. His efforts to annoy you are always coupled with a genuine concern for your well-being, a balance that makes his love both unique and heartwarming.
He possessed an innate ability to discern when your spirits were low, attuned to the subtle shifts in your demeanor even when you endeavored to conceal your emotions. There was no need for you to articulate your feelings; he understood the weight of the world, having borne its burdens himself countless times. Despite his own hectic schedule, he unfailingly set aside time for you, a steadfast pillar of support in your life. On those particularly trying days when tears flowed freely, he would return home after a strenuous day, arms laden with an array of your most cherished comfort foods. His hands, laden with care packages, would forego the formality of knocking, instead, they'd assertively push open your door. Placing the assortment of treats within your reach, he'd tenderly stroke your hair, a gentle smile gracing his lips. "You seem rather like a baby now, don't you think?" he'd jest softly, his voice a soothing melody amidst the storm of emotions. "But it's alright, my dear. Let the tears fall, and indulge in your favorite comforts. Trust me when I say, everything will be alright. Remember, I'm here for you—your unwavering ally and the best brother you could ever ask for."
Minho
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Brother Minho isn’t the type to take over your responsibilities; he believes in letting you handle them because he knows it's what you should do. Despite often seeming indifferent, Minho, in his own way, truly cares deeply, even if he isn’t great at showing it. His demeanor might suggest a lack of concern, but that’s far from the truth. Minho understands the importance of personal growth and responsibility, which is why he stands back, allowing you to fulfill your duties. However, he is always silently watching over you, ensuring that you are not alone. Minho is not one for sweet words or overt displays of affection. He has a quiet strength and a subtle way of showing his support. There have been countless times when you needed someone by your side, and even though he might not have said much, his presence was always felt. He understands that sometimes words aren’t necessary; sometimes, just being there is enough. His support often comes in the form of silent solidarity, a quiet assurance that he’s there for you, even if he doesn’t vocalize it. There was a day when you were at your absolute lowest, struggling to find the energy to face the world. Walking out of the house, every step felt like a monumental effort, and deep down, you wished you could escape the day altogether. You felt utterly drained, as if life had sapped all the strength from your body.
What you didn’t know was that Minho was there, following you from a distance. He didn’t announce his presence or try to comfort you with words, but he was there, quietly making sure you were safe. His silent support provided a safety net, a quiet reassurance that someone cared, even if it wasn’t immediately obvious. Minho’s way of showing care might be unconventional, but it is deeply meaningful. He respects your autonomy and your need to face your own challenges, but he never truly leaves you to face them alone. His quiet presence is a constant reminder that you are supported, and his silent strength gives you the courage to keep going, even on your hardest days. Though he might not always express it openly, Minho’s actions speak volumes about his deep care and commitment to you. When the rain starts to fall and you realize you forgot your umbrella, you look up at the sky, which is covered in grey clouds. As the raindrops begin to hit your skin, an umbrella suddenly covers you. Turning to the side, you see Minho standing there with his usual expressionless face. “Do you think the weather forecast airs for nothing? If you can watch it, then bring this with you too. I’m not going to take care of you if you get sick,” he says. Despite his words, his face softens slightly.
Changbin
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Brother Changbin loves spending time with you, whether you're in the mood for it or not. His love for his family is unwavering, and he consistently makes time to engage with you, no matter how busy his schedule might be. Changbin is the epitome of a supportive brother. He takes joy in all your accomplishments, no matter how small they may seem. To him, every little victory, like winning a doll from a claw machine, is worth celebrating. He treats these moments as if you’ve achieved something monumental, always cheering you on with genuine happiness and pride. His constant presence and encouragement make you feel valued and loved, reinforcing the strong bond you share. He lowkey spoils you whenever he goes somewhere, always bringing back something he knows you'll love. It's not just about the gifts for him; he genuinely delights in seeing your happiness and the joy you get from the things he buys. One night, just as you were about to fall asleep, he burst into your room with a wide grin on his face.
"No sleeping yet, lazy ass. We're going out," he announced. You groaned and pulled the blanket over your head, trying to ignore him, but Changbin wasn’t taking no for an answer. With his usual determination, he managed to pull you out of bed for a spontaneous night walk. As you trudged sleepily beside him, he laughed, "You look like a zombie." He then squatted down in front of you, offering a piggyback ride. You reluctantly climbed on, and he carried you through the quiet night streets, the world hushed around you. The two of you talked about anything and everything, enjoying the rare tranquility of the night. Throughout the walk, Changbin shared stories about his day, his thoughts, and his dreams. He listened intently as you told him about your day, making sure you felt heard and valued. His concern for your well-being was evident in every word and gesture, ensuring that you knew he was always there for you, no matter how busy his life got. This impromptu adventure, like many others before it, became a cherished memory, a testament to the bond you shared and his unwavering support.
Hyunjin
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Brother Hyunjin loves to share everything with you. He reveals his entire life and true self without any filters because he trusts you completely. To him, sharing is caring, and he lives by this motto. He's always eager to learn about your likes and interests, paying close attention to what excites you and makes you happy. He wants to know you as deeply and intimately as you know him, believing that this mutual understanding strengthens your bond. Hyunjin never really gets mad at you, no matter what mistakes you make. He sees these mistakes as a natural part of life and growth, and his patience with you is boundless. Although he might tease you playfully, it's always done with a loving heart and a gentle spirit. His light-hearted teasing is his way of showing affection, making sure you know that even your imperfections are loved and accepted. Hyunjin is always there to listen and to share his experiences with you, whether it's a triumph or a struggle. He believes that sharing his life openly helps build a deeper connection, and he cherishes the moments when you do the same. His supportive nature makes him a comforting presence, always ready to lend an ear or offer advice.
His goal is to ensure that you feel understood, valued, and loved, just as much as he does. He would take you anywhere he found interesting. "Let's go to this art gallery I've been dying to see," he'd say, pulling you out of bed with a gleam in his eye. With his impeccable fashion sense, he'd help you get dressed, rummaging through your wardrobe until he found the perfect outfit. "Wear this" he'd suggest, handing you his hat. "Perfect! We look like a cool sibling duo. Make sure to take a good picture of me there," he'd add with a wink, dragging you out of the house. As you walked, he'd excitedly share his carefully crafted plan for the day. Every detail was thought out, from the art gallery visit to a cozy café he wanted to try afterward. "This is going to be fun. You should be proud to have a brother like me," he'd say with a playful grin. Throughout the day, his enthusiasm was contagious. At the art gallery, he’d eagerly point out his favorite pieces, discussing their intricacies and why they captivated him. His passion for the art made the experience richer, and he made sure to include you in every moment, asking for your thoughts and reactions.
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gaywarcriminals · 3 days
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Who is the best and worst scum villain character to cuck/ntr?
Oh no, are the cuck asks spreading… have I caught the plague from Danny's ask box...... Always, as usual I thought way too much about this!
Best: Since you mentioned both, I'm separating cucking kink and NTR here: As a rule, I think it’s always funniest and therefore best to NTR the ML. He had his shot in canon, now in fic it’s time to bully him! For Binghe specially, I think it’s exceptionally funny to cuck Bunhe. It’s not even really NTR because bunhe has no claim on his shizunmommywife, but he’s SO sure they’re destined and he’s thawed SQQ’s heart and that they’ll have a summer wedding. I just think it’s fun to shatter that 🥰. In canon, LBH’s hopes and dreams are destroyed when shizun pushes him into the abyss, but similar turmoil can be achieved by having one or more peaklords fuck SQQ.  My top pick for the cucking fetish is LQG, because he’s fun to bully and he’s look sooo cute sitting there horny gripping, forbidden from attending to his own desire. LQG is more obedient than Binghe, which makes him more suited to sit quietly in the corner, relegated to furiously blushing piece of furniture ❤️
Worst: YQY for both. This is partially because he’s a popular NTR victim in fics about both SY/SQQ and SJ, but it’s also because of I don’t think he would react in particularly fun or interesting ways. He’d just quietly accept it and draw away from his ex lover who clearly doesn’t want him anymore and have a YQY-brand depressive episode where he just sits and works without eating or sleeping because if he stops he’ll have to Think and he can’t stand to be alone with his thoughts anymore.  For the fetish side, I do have a few scenarios in my head or YQY not being allowed to join his established partners in bed because he broke a 24/7 D/s rule (overworked himself or something, neglecting himself and his partners), and he’s forced to just yearn and admire how beautiful his partners are together and bow back he wants to touch and reflect on his mistakes, and then he gets aftercare and cuddles. However, that is, shall we say, not typically how YQY cucking kink goes in fic, and since I only want to read people making fun of YQY’s sexual prowess when they (correctly) think it’s cute for him to be bad at sex or impotent, I’ve also come to dislike cucking fetish for YQY.
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irregularcollapse · 16 hours
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i tried to make this post and then i got cockblocked and tumblr crashed, so i took a minute to cool off and now i'm back to try again lmfao
what's fun for me about my current MOTA fic is that it's canon-insert (which i don't really do? never really have??)
part 2 of if that isn't love has a little time jump, because the scenes are meant to slot into canon and just provide extra context for things which happen in the show (eg. Gale telling Bucky to go to London alone), so it'll start when they reunite at staglag luft which means we're starting with a Gale and John who have not only been separated, but who hooked up in a moment of actual honesty, and then Gale pretty unceremoniously was again like "None of that, pal."
which means we now have a Gale who maybe has been thinking he'll never see John again, and is remembering that the last thing he did was tell John he didn't want him. and we have a Bucky who thought Gale was dead, but he can't envisage a world without Gale in it, but also Gale as much as said he didn't want Bucky's love in that way (as Bucky sees it). so when they reunite, Gale doesn't know what he's feeling, and Bucky doesn't know how to act and has a face full of bruises.
and it's all setting up for the things which break between them during the time at the camp, and most importantly, for a postwar exploration in part 3 which really digs into the cognitive dissonance of Gale's brand of internalised homophobia, but also the crushing pressure and control of the heteropatriarchy and heteronormativity. Gale can't kill those voices inside him, because he's been putting words in Marge's mouth to justify what he's doing. It's time for her to Speak™
anywayyyyy i want to talk about this all do much lmao have a preview for part 2. two men who Don't Know What They're Doing
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“Still seein’ clear?” He meets John’s eyes for the question, and two equal pupils look back at him, whites white and blues all blue.
“Clear as day, Buck.”
“They get you anywhere else?” Seems unlikely that krauts would hit this hard and only hit John’s face, but there’s no tell in the way John is holding himself as he sits, loose and casual, knees parted to give Gale room to stand close enough to look over his injuries. Gale pats at him a little, neck and shoulders, top of his chest, but there’s still no wincing. He moves away to drop the soiled rag on the table. When he turns around to John again, folding his arms as he leans against it, he finds that John’s smile has made a return.
“I’m fightin’ fit, Nurse Cleven. How could I not be, with personal care from the prettiest first-aider I ever saw?”
Gale ignores him. “They get your ribs? You breathin’ alright?”
“Still a windbag, I promise. My singin’ days aren’t over yet.” He’s talking through that smile, quiet and clear and rounded with warm, none of the tired he should be feeling after god-knows-what on the way here. “Let me look at you a second, huh.”
“What about your feet?” Gale presses on, asking past the burn rising in his own chest, past the strange tremble he feels wobbling his insides. “You were limpin’—Your ankle? A sprain, anything serious?”
“Never mind it, Buck; just walking too long is all—Come here, won’t you? Just let me look at you a second.”
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