#it means in between though!! which is perfect

[arlertwhore]

pairing: paige bueckers x fem! reader

synopsis: you try to breakup with paige, but she apologizes the right way.

warning (s): smut, strap, nasty makeout sesh, desperate p (on my knees for her yo), body licking, nipple sucking, ab riding, strap riding, overstim, hairpulling. think it’s all.

word count: like 4k or sum?

author note: GUYSSS SEND ME REQQ im runnin outta ideas but they’re helping fr — omgosh i was kinda lazy w this one but 🤷‍♀️ we’re done soo enjoy!! Unedited again, based off req again, and written very late (again)

For a while now, Paige had sensed things were starting to change between you guys, but she never realized the full extent of it until you were laid out before her, prepared for her to claim what she'd rightfully believed belonged to her and just her.

In that moment and the moments that followed, she'd become immensely startled at how susceptible she'd become to the clear break from casuality your actions unintentionally endorsed. You most likely hadn't seen it that way -- you'd always harbored a tiny figurative crush on Paige from the beginning which you had confided in her friends about.

Paige was also well aware, notioned by your behavior during sex. You consistently praised her for being 'so fucking hot' and would go on fuck-drunk-tangets about how attractive you found her, or you'd occasionally steal a kiss from her whenever her lips were momentarily unoccupied during your hookups. She found your excitement endearing and trusted your ability to turn it off outside of the bedroom, which you always did. But for the first time ever, truly ever since you guys had fucked, which was countless times now, you had let your emotions overcome you, and you had kissed Paige in a way that was incredibly intimate, meant for real lovers.

Due to her occasional tiredness that sometimes prohibited the girl from leaving, she had spent the night, and the morning after, when you had both woke up interwined, naked with your bodies against each-other, you gave her a telling gaze before foolishly pressing your perfect lips against hers in a way that didn't require a genius in strictly physical relationships to realize that wasn't the moment for a kiss.

One thing about Paige, though, was that she couldn't ever resist you. She hated knowing so and wanted to fix it. In the same way you had a silly crush on her, she always held a small amount of an irrestible infatuation with you. If she didn't want to do something, Paige always managed to stop herself, but with you, she could never regain control or resist certain instances at particular times.

As most casual partners did, you two never kissed without it leading somewhere, and you were both aware of the limited time you guys had.

Yet, you spent a significant portion of that dwindling time passionately making out in bed like lovers, not pausing for a single moment to even catch your breath. It was undeniably intimate, passionate, and emotional, yet to Paige, it felt like another mistake, this time on your end. She knew you were very smart but chose to give you the benefit of the doubt. Due to her budding feelings, she chose to believe it could've just been her misreading the signs of the kiss and it could've been normal, just you being overly excited on accident, which happened to the best of us.

It could've even been you savoring your last moments with her before life resumed again.

You had been busy working and going to group study dates with your friends while Paige and her team traveled a city over to train at a renowned studio before their big game on the weekend, meaning she'd be gone until the next Tuesday, a week from your morning together.

It had been Thursday, a good ways through the week until Paige returned and until you had your off day booked, but you guys had not texted or called despite both thinking of each-other lots. All your friends, who previously didn't care about Paige, believing her to be nothing but a douchey-player-skeeze, finally cared enough to listen to your loss of virginity story. Every detail, from the precise strokes she gave you to her entranced demeanor at the state she'd left you in and the morning after story made them recognize the intensity and intimacy in the situation.

Some of them believed that Paige was breaking from her usual behavior, what they called her many 'laws', because she was starting to seriously like you, but the others thought it had been the opposite way around. They said she had gotten what she wanted from you and was done, seeing no point in caring about her rules at the end of the road. From the beginning of your involvement with her, they warned you that it was a trap designed to make you develop feelings before she eventually lived up to her player reputation and broke the heart of an innocent, never-before-loved girl. This topic sparked a heated debate among your friends, who relished the opportunity for debate. As they argued about whether Paige had fallen in or out of love, a grave realization hit you like a ton of bricks.

Before Paige settled down with you only, a choice she made on the basis of you being the only girl she was seeing who wasn't stress, drama, or complications, she was always transparent about her weekends after big games. If she had chosen to stay where the game was hosted for the weekend instead of coming back home to relax after a busy week, it meant she was getting with other girls. ou weren't by any means dumb. Paige was going to leave you; not for any of the debated reasons, but because she had likely realized the intimacy long before you had and was now prepared to escape. The kiss you initiated was spontaneous, and Paige likely knew this, choosing to begin a subtle breakaway. She'd start by making it clear she would be with other girls, not calling or texting, thus ghosting you, hoping your smart self would catch the hint.

And boy, you had. You broke down. On the kitchen floor, all your moments with Paige, starting from the beginning, replayed in your head in a loop. You remembered when you first met at the party, the way she looked at you, and how it felt when she kissed you. Then, there was the first time you two had sex. You recalled how nervous you were, and how she reassured you, alike the presumed, figurative and literal last time you had. You reflected on the first time you ever cried in front of her, upset at your grades and the first time she opened up to you about her struggles with wanting a normal life while also being committed to her career. It was a rare glimpse into her world, and it brought you closer together.

As these memories flooded your mind, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of longing and sadness for what was now lost.

Life had become unbearably stressful, and you found solace in Paige's company, perhaps subconsciously evading your stress by seeking her out. She was more than just a girl you were fucking ; she was a friend, someone you could turn to when you had no one else. But now, the prospect of experiencing her comfort again seemed uncertain, and you couldn't shake the feeling that it was all your fault for initiating this foolish ordeal in the first place. You were upset, feeling betrayed by Paige's sudden detachment. How could she just let you go like that? You felt dumb for ever believing she wasn't capable of it, despite her warnings. The exhaustion from juggling school, work, and studies had reached its tipping point, and you were overwhelmed by it all. Your thoughts swirled endlessly in a sea of self-doubt and despair. "My friends were right," you lamented. "How could I agree to getting used by her?" you cried out. Thoughts of your own perceived foolishness echoed in your mind. "I'm so dumb," you whispered to yourself, feeling like you had single-handedly ruined everything.

And in a fit of utter madness, you decided to text her, asking: ur stayin over the wknd? lmao i just realized that wtf? When an hour passed, her typical response span, you lashed out and texted: who are u fucking paige? All boldly. You never questioned it -- that was a rule. But who cared about breaking her rules at this point? You following them for this long had got you nothing but dumped and ignored like a piece of trash.

To your expentancy, Paige never replied and you texted her a long paragraph detailing your frustration with her. As you reached the end of your message, a sense of clarity washed over you. In a futile last attempt to take control of the situation, regardless of who said it first, with a heavy heart, you made the difficult decision to end things, recognizing that prolonging the pain was no longer an option.

Then, you got up, got dressed, and went to the gym. There, you released all your pent-up energy and had a chance to focus on yourself. Needless to say, you slept soundly after letting your emotions out, feeling a weight lifted off your shoulders at chosing to prioritize your own well-being.

Paige's morning (and night) was a stark contrast to yours. While you wept, she was getting with a UCONN cheerleader after hours and drunk out of her fucking mind. She woke up at the side of a random girl while expriencing the worst hangover she had ever had, unable to recall the events of the previous night.

She stumbled from an Uber to her dorm house, feeling disoriented and sick. Upon returning home, Azzi noticed her state and confiscated her phone to retrace her night, only to discover a barrage of texts from you. Paige spent the next two days sleeping off her hangover, feeling utterly drained. On Sunday, when the rest of the team returned home, they staged an intervention for Paige.

They expressed concern about her drinking habits and advised her to focus on her career rather than letting a girl consume her thoughts. They warned her against reconciling with you, citing your recent breakup and her drinking as red flags. Paige felt confused and defensive as her team confronted her about the relationship. She argued that there was nothing wrong with it and denied being as invested as they claimed. However, when they pointed out evidence of her attachment to you, including her lock-screen, her taking your virginity, and the videos of you she frequently watched without caring for being caught, she felt defeated. It was at that moment, when her world seemed to be pushing you two apart, that Paige discovered you had initiated the push yourself. She felt the same heartache and confusion you had felt the day before. Despite trying to maintain a facade of indifference, she couldn't deny the impact the situation was having on her. Despite her efforts to focus on training, playing, and studying, thoughts of you consumed her late at night, leaving her feeling torn and emotionally drained.

She knew it was probably wrong to do so, but once again, she gave you the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps you were going through stuff or maybe it was just a momentary lapse in judgmental. There was no way you truly meant to end things and this rebellion was very uncharacteristic of you. Paige felt the need to see you face-to-face, to observe your behavior and gauge if you were truly done with her, and if she was truly done with you as her friends suggested she should be. Plus, she had always emphasized the importance of speaking in person, so you should have known to expect her at your door on Tuesday night.

Coincidentally, you had just ordered dinner, so when you heard the knock, you pulled open the door without hesitation and froze dead in your tracks at the sight of her.

"Hey," she half-smiled, awkwardly. This was bad. What the hell was she doing here? Deep down, you knew you were still tangled up inthe aftermath of your decision, but that didn't stop the instinctual yearning that surged within you at the sight of her. You hadn't even expected her to show up, stirring a potent mix of confusion and desire that pulsed through your veins and heart like a wildfire. As you stood there between your door-frame, silent, your body betraying you with insistent tingles and heated pulses to your clit, she continued. "I know I should've called or texted you back before showing up, but I've been in some shit," Paige confessed, her voice tinged with regret. "I just wanna talk." "You're right, Paige. You should've texted me back or called me. Your entire week away, why didn't you?" you pressed, voice sharp with frustration. A silence hung heavy in the air briefly before the girl scratched the nape of her neck, her demeanor embarrased. "I

was hungover," she admitted sheepishly. You nodded, your tongue poking at your cheek as you mulled over her response. "Alright, well, it's not my fault then, Paige. Goodnight," you stated firmly, intending to close the door. However, with her strength, she held it open as she insisted, "Don't be a bitch, y/n. You aren't this kinda girl." Against your will, the door was opened fully. "No, Paige, you don't get to ignore me and then show up to fix things when you realize I'm not just some toy at your convience and that I can make choices in our situation too. Up until now, I've respected everything you've ever told me, so just this once, respect what I said to you," you asserted firmly.

Paige could have engaged in a heated debate with you, confident in her ability to outmaneuver your frustrations, but that wasn't her intention being there. She wasn't ready to lose you yet. "You're that mad at me? You wanna end everything?" she asked softly, her voice laced with a hint of vulnerability as she searched your eyes for an answer. You remained silent, averting your gaze from hers, which alone had spoken volumes. She sighed out, remorseful. "I'm sorry." This was a far cry from the Paige you'd begun with. At the start of it all, when she held all the power and you were simply the girl, she would have never uttered a straightforward apology. If she flaked on you and showed up later, she didn't apologize outright. Instead, she tended to offer explanations for her actions. Presently, she had not even attempted her typical evasive manuvers. "I'm an asshole." she conceded self-deprecatively. And oddly enough, with her hands clasped behind her back, chewing out her bottom lip, and a look of remorse on her face, she just looked so sexy to you.

Your face had lit up after she'd insulted herself, like it had pleased you, and when Paige saw your change in demeanor, she instantly recognized a positive response from you to anything she'd said, so she spoke again, her tone now more fervent and eager for your acknowledgment. "I am, right?" she implored, her voice tinged with desperation, as if searching for validation from you. When you tried to look up, avoiding her eyes, it was her touch next. You craved it. You'd missed it. You wanted it. Yeah, you wanted to be strong too—but with her hand interlocking with yours, you really wanted it. She did too. You could feel her eyes tracing down your body, and in that moment, you knew Paige missed you too, even if she was acting a fool in absence. She could have any girl in the world, but here she was, becoming undone, unraveled, so desperate just for you. You nodded your head carefully, confirming your agreement with that sentiment. She was an asshole. "Yeah," she murmmured, her desire for your approval palpable. You couldn't even bring yourself to look at her as her head buried itself delicately in the crook of your neck—it would make it all too real. At first, she's still, engulfing your scent with deep inhales like a curious dog. As she inhales, the air sends shivers down your spine, making your skin tingle with anticipation. Every nerve in your body feels alive, sensitive to her every touch. That's what causes you to let out a soft moan when with a desperate hunger, Paige's tongue glides over your skin, tracing every curve of your crook with an urgency that betrays her need for you and leaves you breathless. She keeps going, entirely undeterred by your half-hearted whisper of, "Paige, stop." as your hand rests on her waist, holding her close. It's as if something has come over her. She acts like she's starved and can't get enough of you. Like she's trying to imprint every inch of you into her memory before you slip away. "Don't leave me," Paige's voice trembles with longing as her hand snakes down to grip your ass tightly. "Please."

You're losing yourself too, succumbing to the intoxicating heat of the moment. Other building occupants could stumble upon the scene unfolding, but in that moment, you don't care about nothing other than her. As the intensity of the moment washes over you, your head, previously tilted backward, comes down instinctively.

You shut your eyes tightly, feeling the warmth of Paige's lips against yours as you press into the kiss. Her tongue darts against yours and with an insatiable hunger, she begins to prod at your tongue, licking that too. You can taste the faint trace of yourself on her tongue, heightening the intensity of the moment as you both vie for control in the kiss. You begin to grind against each other, your bodies moving in a frantic rhythm that mirrors the urgency of your kisses, and your lips struggle to keep pace with the fevered tempo as you move against each-other, Paige groaning loudly, unable to contain the surge of arousal exiting her pussy. With each further movement, spit begins to fall on your chest, a tangible sign of the passion consuming you both.

In the blink of an eye, Paige has slipped into your apartment. She places you against the front door and her lips trail across your chest as she swiftly undresses you. You find yourself yielding to her advances. She exudes a strength that renders resistance futile.

As your clothes fall away, Paige doesn't linger to admire the sight before her. She mentally accounts how she couldn't ever take the sight of your body, in real life and not over a phone, for granted, but she's too worked up to say anything to you at this point.

As she lays you down on the bed, she wastes no time in shedding her shirt, revealing the contours of her body clad in a sleek sports bra. The definition of her abs catches your eye, a testament to her week of rigorous training. A small moan escapes your lips at the sight, fueling the desire that courses through your veins. Instead of passively accepting her advances, you decide to take control. Rising up on your knees, you grasp the strings of her sweatpants and pull her towards you, eyes locked with her blueys. "I wanna ride 'em, P," you declare, seizing her by the waist and guiding her onto the bed. She's momentarily lost for words, her eyes widening in bewilderment. "W-what?" with a soft chuckle, you help her prop herself up against the bedpost before straddling her waist. Leaning forward, you dangle your breasts enticingly in front of her face.

"You're so strong," you murmur, releasing a loud moan as you rock your hips forward. She flexed in response, mirroring your movements, whether intentional or not, and you felt a rush of heat flood your body. Her solid, sturdy body was perfect for the grind of your clit. "I just wish you were as smart as you are powerful."

Paige held onto your hips as you ground forward, the slickness between your bodies creating a smooth, frictionless glide. With a husky tone, she murmured, "All wet for me, huh, ma?"

"Who wouldn't be?" you whimpered in response, your hips bucking eagerly against her. As you increased your pace, Paige delivered a sharp slap to your ass, exactly how she knew you liked it, eliciting a sharp cry from your lips. "You still like me," she stated the obvious truth as you shuddered uncontrollably beneath her touch. Her mouth latched onto your nipple as you continued grinding, the feel of her lips and tongue making your hips stutter. "Mmph, fuck, P, wait... I'll cum if you..." you paused, halting your movements to catch your breath as she continued to suckle at your chest. With a loud 'pop', she unlatched, her own chest heaving with desire. "Can I fuck you with it again?" she asked, her voice thick with need and longing, her eyes searching yours for consent to do what began all this in the first place. "In the drawer," you replied mundanely, trying to hide your excitement though your desire for her was raging. You reasoned that the more unamused you behaved, the more she would try to make it up to you, all calculated to draw her closer while maintaining a semblance of control.

As she dug through your drawer and began to fit it on upon the bed, you stood up, positioning your vanity mirror to face the bed.

You needed to see yourself for what you were about to do. Climbing onto the bed, you slithered up Paige's body slyly, pointing your finger toward the mirror, your reflections capturing the desire and anticipation in both of your eyes. "Kay," you huffed, elevating your hips and watching as you slowly sunk down on her. She held your hips to help you, but you pushed them off, frowning fauxly.

"What, Paige? Don't think I got it in me to fuck you?" you teased, elevating slowly before coming back down again. With her hands behind her head, arms involuntarily flexing, she shook her head. "Never. Not how I fuck you." You ticked your head. "Let's see then. Shut up and let me focus." As you picked up the pace, you closed

your eyes, lost in the sensations coursing through your body. It was a familiar feeling, one you had forgotten but now remembered all too well. Paige's heavy breaths, entertained, echoed in the room, a testament to the intesity of the moment. You struggled to find a steady rhythm, letting instinct guide your movements. "Baby, slow it d--" Her voice, calling you "baby," sent a jolt of pleasure through you. "Mmh," you squeaked listlessly, "Fuck, Paige, keep talking to me," you moaned, bouncing on the thick member, your head thrown back in abandon. "What's the magic word?" she teased, her words sending shivers down your spine. "Pl-please," you stammered, your body on fire. "Good girl, baby. You know I love when you use your manners," she cooed, her words driving you over the edge. Unable to resist any longer, you surrendered to Paige's devotion, allowing her to guide you toward the peak of ecstasy, despite the initial intention of taking control.

She remembered how much you enjoyed it on your stomach. With precision, she slammed her hips against yours, pounding you relentlessly for around ten seconds before deciding to switch your position, sensing that you were close. With you now on your stomach, she placed a hand on your hip and pressed you down against the bed as she continued to pound into you with fervor. Gripping your hair, she pulled you up so you could see yourself in the mirror, intoxicated by the sight. You looked utterly wrecked. Drool escaped your parted lips, your hair matted with sweat, and tears streaked down your flushed cheeks. She had fucked you so relentlessly that it bordered on painful, yet the pleasure was incomparable. The sight of her biting her bottom lip as she worked you over, plunging deep inside you without breaking a sweat, was mesmerizing. "I'm sorry, baby," she whispered, leaning forward and pressing her body against yours as she continued to piston her hips, driving deep into you. "I'm so, so sorry. I hope you forgive me. I won't stop until you do."

Paige's powerful strokes sent loads of pleasure coursing through your bones, each thrust causing you to shake. You gripped the sheets tightly for stability, your nails digging into the fabric as she plunged into you with a hunger that matched your own. With your legs wrapped around her, you met her gaze, drowning in the intensity of her eyes as she devoured you with hers.

The sight of her arm muscles flexing as she held you steady, abs too, and her body working against yours fueled the fire burning within you, and it was only a matter of time until you exploded entirely. The reflection in the mirror only added to the raw eroticism of the moment, capturing the sheer intensity of your connection, the passion that consumed you both. She had you completely at her mercy, using you for her own pleasure, and yet, you couldn't help but revel in the sheer ecstasy of it all. "I wanna cum, Paige," you whimpered, your voice thick with need. "Please, just keep fucking me like that." The sound of skin meeting skin echoed in the room, a song of want mingling with the rhythm of your moans. You surrendered to the pleasure, letting it wash over you in wave after wave of bliss, each one pushing you closer to the edge of oblivion. "Do you forgive me yet?" she breathed, her voice dripping with cockiness. You shook your head, the ache of desire mingling with the sting of resentment. "Why not, baby?" she teased, her lips curling into a wicked grin. The truth spilled from your lips, a confession. "Because you're so fuckin' mean to me," you gasped, the words punctuated by a moan as she drove into you with renewed fervor. She shook her head, a smirk playing at her lips as she reveled in the power she held over you. "If I was mean to you, would I be fucking you to tears?" she taunted, each word pushing you closer to the brink of surrender. Please, Paige, faster, m'gonna cum so hard," you gasped, your nails digging into her wrists as you begged for more. "Yeah, baby?" she purred, disregarding the marks on her skin as she complied with your request, increasing the tempo with each thrust. "Fuck, P, yeah," you moaned, "shit mommy, I'm gonna cum." But she slowed herself slightly, denying you release. "No, you're not," she asserted, her thumb wiping away your tears as she held your gaze. "Not until you ask mommy to."

"Ughhh, P, so mean," you whined, complying, "please, mommy, please let me cum on your cock."

She smiled, proud. "C'mon baby, give it to me, mama," she urged, her movements becoming more frantic with each word. "Give it to me," she repeated, "give it to me," and when you finally did, your entire body convulsed, pleasure washing over you as you released, your essence squirting out and staining the sheets. You moaned loudly, the sound echoing in the room, uncaring if your neighbors could hear, lost in the throes of ecstasy. But she didn't stop, continuing to fuck you even after you'd climaxed. And when you finally begged her to stop, overwhelmed and spent, she paid you no mind, only focused on one thing and one thing only. "You forgive me, baby?" she asked, her thrusts sloppy. "Yes, yes, yes, Paige. I forgive you," you murmured, unable to raise your voice any longer."Huh?" she teased, forcing you to speak louder. "Yes, Paige. I FORGIVE YOU!" you declared, the words ringing out as she abruptly withdrew from you. You knew what she wanted next as she removed the strap, her intentions clear. "Let's put your mouth to use," she commanded, and the night was far from over.

an: y/n delulu era? Idk how I rly feel ab this one lmk guys I love reading your comments and my inbox it’s like the best 🤞

also y’all this is part 4

#smut #18+ only #paige x reader #paige buckets #paige bueckers fic #paige x fem reader #Paige x oc #Paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #bueckersxfemreader #smutwccb #smut bueckers #uconn huskies #march madness #uconn vs iowa #paigesmut #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #ncaa wbb #ncaa tournament #ncaa march madness #strapsmut #wlw smut #wlw post #pb #Paige bueckerswlw #Paige #wlw #woman’s basketball

[hairmetal666]

Everyone in the league knows about Eddie Munson. He has the makings of a great pitcher, except for the fact that his slider has a 75% chance of sliding too high and his fastballs mostly end up in the dirt. His technique is wild, flailing, unrestrained. Which is why Steve is beside himself when he learns about the trade.

The owners, they think that Steve being the best catcher in the league means he can work with Eddie, settle him, make him a real prospect. Steve's input isn't needed with the decision already made, but Munson--with all his tattoos piercings and leather--looks like he'd rather hock a loogie at Steve than take directions from him.

And Steve is the best in the league, the glue that keeps the team together. They're a well-oiled machine, and Eddie is--Eddie is a squeaky wheel.

They meet for the first time, briefly, in the locker room. He's seen the guy before, of course, but now, like this, he can't help but be intrigued by his pale skin and long curls and brown doe-eyes, his lightly muscled frame. And they're in the locker room, Eddie with just a towel around his waist, exposing his toned chest and stomach and the black swirl of his tattoos.

"Steve Harrington!" Eddie reaches out a hand. "Great to meet you, man."

"You too. Excited to have you with us." The handshake is quick and firm and Steve is trying not to be surprised about how excited and genuine the guy sounds, keep his mind away from thinking of how Eddie is naked aside from the towel.

With only a few weeks until the start of the regular season, Eddie starts pitching to Steve. And Steve, he so expects Eddie to fight and grumble and refuse, that his head sort of spins when, on the first day, Eddie claps him on the back with his glove, says, "where do you want me, cap?" and that's that.

He wants to say that they dislike each other, that they're a bad fit, that Eddie is full himself and refuses constructive criticism.

Instead.

Instead it's easy.

Eddie doesn't complain, doesn't argue, just watches Steve, learns him, takes his advice and notes and implements them as much as he can. They like each other, have an easy rapport, get each other. He's tight with all the pitchers, but Eddie is different. They settle each other.

They're best friends. They hangout constantly. And he doesn't have a crush; he doesn't. It would be unprofessional. They're best friends.

But sometimes, sometimes he thinks he catches Eddie looking at him. It's impossible. Of course it's impossible. Eddie couldn't be into the guy Sports Illustrated called "baseball's Ralph Lauren model" in the intro to Steve's Body Issue photo spread. And it doesn't matter one way or the other because Steve won't make a move. He won't jeopardize the team like that.

They don't touch. He touches everyone on the team, often, and Eddie particularly is a physical guy, but aside from that first handshake, he keeps his distance. Steve's afraid--even though it's silly, he's afraid--that once they start touching, he won't be able to stop, and he can't let that happen.

The team is good, competing for first place in the National League. Eddie's success has made everyone else better.

It's late July, they're in first place in the league, and Eddie's pitching a perfect game. There's only been 24 perfect games thrown in the history of Major League Baseball, but it's the eighth inning and Eddie's doing it.

A pitch goes wild, veers high over the umpire's head. Eddie's shaken, Steve can tell with how his fist tightens compulsively around the ball. The next pitch swings wide, towards the batter's knees.

The count is at 2 balls, no strikes, and he can see, even from behind home plate Steve can see, that Eddie's losing it. He heads for the mound, refuses to let it end like this. He closes the distance between them, has a quick internal debate before he puts his hand on Eddie's lower back. They've never touched, this is it, this is--warmth bleeds from Eddie's skin, through the fabric of his jersey, goes straight to Steve's head.

Eddie frowns. "I don't think I--"

"You're going to do it, Ed. I know. I can feel it." He pats his chest, over his heart. "It's gonna happen."

Eddie's breathing settles and it's only then that Steve realizes he's rubbing circles into Eddie's back with his thumb. He's not sure when he started, doesn't want to stop, loves being able to feel.

"Okay," Eddie says.

"Okay."

Steve removes his hand, heads back to home, still tingling with the warmth of Eddie's body even as he crouches behind the plate.

He closes out the inning with three definitive strike outs. The crowd goes wild.

They take the field for the top of the 9th, the crowd is screaming, ready for this, the energy zipping through every player on the field.

It goes by in a blur. Nine pitches. Eddie's perfect game is wrapped up in nine phenomenal pitches.

As the ump calls the last out, there's a moment of complete and utter quiet in the stadium, Steve's heart a pounding hum in his ears, before pandemonium breaks loose. There's screaming, fireworks, someone is crying--

All he can see is Eddie. Eddie's who's thrown his glove to the dirt, is barreling towards him with a triumphant smile bright on his face. Steve stands, runs to close the distance. He sees the moment that Eddie decides to jump into his arms, catches him easily--will always catch him--but his legs are tired and the momentum gets him, sends them tumbling back into the grass.

They're both yelling, laughing, smiling hard enough to hurt. Eddie's hair has fallen out if its tie, tumbling around his shoulders, and Steve gazes at him, can't help it, in this moment can admit that he's so, so astronomically in love.

It's only then Steve realizes that the laughter's stopped, that Eddie's gazing back. Brown eyes shining bright with happiness, cheeks flushed pink, lips parted. Thoughtless, he reaches up to caress Eddie's cheek.

The team reaches them, streaming around them, yanking Eddie and Steve to their feet. The celebration stretches around them, the moment slipping away. He wants to finish what they started but there are interviews, champagne showers, congratulations, that keep them apart. Sometimes, from across the room, their eyes meet, and there's heat there that's new, that sparks something low in Steve's gut.

Hours pass, and finally he finds himself alone in the locker room. He's just pulled on his t-shirt when the door shuts behind him. He spins, finds Eddie, waiting, watching.

He crosses the room without a word, can't not, not now, not after everything. They grapple for a second, the wanting so strong that it takes a second to settle, to find each other. They kiss hard, desperate, seething with desire.

Steve hopes it never ends and it doesn't, just tapers into soft kisses, gentle nips. He can't bring himself to step away.

"Is this for real ?" Eddie whispers.

"I've been insane about you since the trade."

Eddie's smile is blinding. "I used to have those pictures of you--the ones with the little red shorts?--in my locker in the minors. Feel like I'm living in a dream right now."

It lights him up inside, knowing that Eddie wants him, has wanted him. "Let me take you home and show you just how real it is?"

He snorts, but his dimples deepen, eyes shining. "What a line, sweetheart."

"Yeah well, the baseball field isn't the only place where I hit home runs."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #baseball au #teammates to lovers #ficlet #fluff #first kiss #feelings confession #steve thinks he'll hate eddie but he just falls in love with him instead #pitcher eddie munson #catcher steve harrington #i had this idea a month ago and forgot about it #dom/sub undertones in the way that what if steve gently doms eddie into pitching better #what if steve modeled for SI's body issue and what if eddie is obsessed with him the whole time #really playing fast and loose with how major league baseball works

[yizmiu]

SITUATIONSHIP 〻ᯇ # lee heeseung

013. jittleyang | smau + written (1007 wrds)

IN WHICH ✶ y/n loved the idea of love, simply because she hadn’t experienced it yet. She hoped and prayed that love would come to her at the perfect time of her life where she’s mentally stable and ready for it. So when she suddenly gets attention from Lee Heeseung—she can’t tell if she likes this or not? This sudden attention, he was extremely sweet to her, way too sweet that it was suspicious. Given his reputation, Heeseung wasn’t the type to settle. So why was he all up on Y/n? and just why was Y/n enjoying it? She was confused with herself and her new situationship, maybe she’s just overstimulated by everything and scared to commit.

Heeseung was so desperately hoping that Y/n would show up anytime soon because currently he has Kim Nali all up in his business. He doesn’t mind the girl, but what he expected was a simple ‘Hi, how are you?’ not her to hang around him all night. She even left her friend, which apparently was her first time at Kappa Chi.

“Where’s your friend? Sanghee, was it?” Heeseung asked, interrupting the girl. “Oh—Sanghee, she doesn’t mess around, I wouldn't go for her!” Nali nervously giggles. Heeseung looked at the girl weirdly, What the fuck is she on about…He thought.

“I don’t want to sleep with your friend, you left her alone, you should go be a good friend and find her.” Heeseung scoffed. “Oh—sorry! She’s okay though, she is very outgoing and likes to meet new people—see! she’s talking to someone!” Nali pointed in a direction, Heeseung turning his head to look. Sanghee and Hyunjae were talking to each other.

Heeseung looked down at his phone, constantly checking the time and constantly checking for a text. It was already 11 and Y/n wasn’t there, neither were her friends so they were probably still getting ready.

“Yo, do you know when Soobin is getting here?” Heeseung asked Beomgyu who was walking by. “He texted me saying they’ll be late, you waiting on Y/n?” He asked, taking a sip from his cup.

“Yeah, figured she would’ve texted me about being late.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Soob said the girls were napping together so they’re just waiting on them.” Beomgyu informed Heeseung, turning his attention to Nali and nodding at her.

“Hi, Nali.” Beomgyu said, the girl waved back. It was awkward. “Your friend and Hyunjae are really hitting it off.” Beomgyu laughs. “Save her.” He jokes before running off.

“How’s medical school?” Heeseung decides to ask, the awkward tension between the two was killing him. “It’s okay, the stress is getting to me so it could be better…” She sighed. “That’s the cost of wanting to be a doctor.” Heeseung jokes. “You’re smart, you’ll overcome the stress.” He assures the girl.

Nali’s eyes twinkle when she’s speaking to Heeseung, literally they do. She was so focused on the boy's eyes that she completely missed what he was saying.

“Nali? Are you listening?” Heeseung asked, waving his hand in front of the girl's face to get her attention. “Y/n and I are gonna go and get more ice. It was nice catching up with you.” Nali didn’t even notice the girl that stood beside Heeseung, Y/n who was in her eyes awfully close to the boy.

They were even matching.

“Hi, Nali.” Y/n stuck her hand out to the girl. “Hi.” Nali shook her hand. “You’re so pretty, I’ve seen you on twitter.” Y/n complimented the girl. “Thank you.” Nali sheepishly giggles.

“Of course.” Y/n nods her head.

—

“She seemed a little awkward…” Y/n points out as she got into the passenger seat of Heeseungs car. “That’s just Nali, she’s nice but recently she’s been crossing the line.” Heeseung complained. “What do you mean by that?” Y/n buckled her seatbelt.

“She's jealous about me and you, she asked about what we were and told me I could be ‘real with her’.” Heeseung did air quotes. “I told her that if we were anything it wouldn’t be her business. And the way she responds to the primrose tweets—she doesn’t even go to primrose?!” Heeseung scoffed.

“Oh, yeah I noticed that. She was in my replies. I thought it was kind of odd because I’ve never seen her before. It was like she was in denial.” Y/n sighs.

“She’s been trying to get back into my life, which I wouldn’t really mind, I would love to become actual friends with her but she seems to want something more.”

“She is a girl with real feelings, Heeseung. Remember that.” Y/n defends the girl. “I’d feel the same way, if I got that type of attention just to keep things casual I’d probably go batshit crazy and become obsessed too.”

“Yeah, but I told her that I’m only messing around and she understood, she was fine with it at first so I don’t know why she’s acting like this.”

“Because she’s human.” Y/n laughs, “She definitely caught feelings later on while spending time with you. I don’t blame her.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re a charming guy, it’s hard to not want you.”

Is this girl drunk?

“Y/n, are you tipsy or something?” Heeseung quickly glances away from the road to look at the girl, “Do you hear what you are saying right now?”

“No, I’m not tipsy, are you crazy? I don’t even like to drink like that.”

“Are you saying you want me?” Heeseung gets straight to the point. “I’m saying you’re charming, you have this type of personality that makes someone want to be around you all the time.”

“Oh.” Heeseung falls silent. “Do you want me to want you?” Y/n teases him.

“No, but I wouldn’t hate a cool girl like you wanting me.” Heeseung says confidently. “Ah, okay. I see how it is.” Y/n laughs.

“For real though, would you get with me if we weren’t friends?” Heeseung asked out of curiosity. “Real question is, would you?” Y/n looks at the boy in disbelief, “You’re the one who doesn’t like to settle down.” She laughs.

“Okay, but you didn’t answer my question.” Heeseung was trying to get something out of Y/n, but he doesn’t know what.

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind. You kind of already act like my boyfriend. You do everything for me, you ask to match with me, and all your friends tell me you blow them off to hangout with me.” Y/n laughs, “But I just figured it’s because you like to be around me, if I wasn’t your friend but instead a fling you would treat me differently.”

“I guess so…” Heeseung fell silent once again.

m.list — previous — next

ᯇ ೀ taglist ( open ) ; @flwrstqr @haechology @heegyuwrld @wonyoungsvirus @enhaz1 @sparklingsjy @skzeyeu @euncsace @hotsforikeu @simjyunnie @yenqa @eleanorheartschishiya @ahnneyong @teddywonss @parkwonbinluvr @k1ttylvr @doulcie @wonifullove @woninluv @ilyjxdz @dimplewonie @grah127 @missychief1404 4 @eclipse-777 @heelee-01 @aerivrs @amesification n @txtbrainrot @haechansbbg @jaem4eva @rikizm @oldjws @aishigrey @jiawji @kgneptun @rikibun @arunabrak @riksaes @river-demon-slayer @soobs-things @saranghaohoshi @heelariously @blooqz @nxzz-skz @icepshrince

#enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smau #enhypen x reader #enhypen #heeseung x reader #heeseung fanfic #heeseung fluff #heeseung scenarios #heeseung smau #heeseung x you #heeseung enhypen #lee heesung x reader #heeseung imagines #enhypen imagines

[dragonnarrative-writes]

GhostGaz Week - sweet talk // missed connection

I'm so so so excited to have participated in @ghostgazweek this year! It's the first time I've done an event like this and it's brought me so much joy. To everyone who has read and commented on my work this week, thank you! I'm so excited to play with some of these concepts some more.

CW: Relationships between coworkers, mutual pining, front of house/back of house relations, Phillip Graves (derogatory), kissing, a taste of dirty talk

“Takin’ my ten,” Kyle tells his manager, pulling his phone from his pocket. Price nods, waving him off and assigning Kyle’s tables to Alex and Nova. He swings into the kitchen with an absent wave as he checks his messages and steps out back.

“’M no’ sayin’ ye have’ t’ declare yer love in front o’ the whole bloody team.”

Kyle perks up at the sound of Soap’s voice, but back-of-house gossip is going to have to wait while he tries to figure out what his off-again situationship is complaining about now. Or not - the meltdown in his messages is not worth dealing with. Just as he’s about the round the corner though, the growl of Simon’s voice freezes him.

“That’ll do, Soap.”

Kyle has to bite his lip to keep from gasping. Simon isn’t the head chef - that’s Farah - but he might as well be her right hand. He’s the glue of the weekend dinner rush. Level headed no matter what, rarely raises his voice above a raspy muttering, huge hands that Kyle has seen split an apple in half without a hint of visible effort. Whoever he dates is going to be envied by the entire front of house. Partially because he’s bloody gorgeous. But partly because he’s just the perfect man.

“Nae, yer gonna listen t’me,” Soap insists. “I promise, ‘e’s interested.”

“’E’s not,” Simon says. “Already tried flirtin’ wit’ ‘im. No dice.”

“Leavin’ a note wit’ yer phone number - in a pile of other notes with phone numbers - is no’ flirtin,” Soap says, and Kyle can imagine the despair on his face just from the tone of his voice. “Do you ken ‘ow many o’ those damn notes ‘e gets in a night?”

“Exactly. And he’s got a bird.”

“They broke up last week,” Soap hisses. “She’s shacking up with her ex.”

Kyle would snicker at how close he sounds to pulling his hair out but…

Kyle’s situationship ended last week. Because she moved in with her ex and Kyle doesn’t want to go through that roller coaster, again. And Kyle’s the flirt on shift, so he gets the most notes and phone numbers on receipts…

“’E’s got better prospects,” Simon says. Kyle hears the flick of a lighter. “Gorgeous, competent, charismatic? Kyle could have anyone.”

“And ‘e wants you, ye daft fucker,” Soap groans. “Steamin’ Jesus the two of ye. Just fuckin’ tell ‘im.”

“Tell you what,” Simon grumbles, muffled by his cigarette. “If he comes out here before my break’s done, I’ll tell ‘im.”

“Then ah’ll go in an- Oh you mother fucker! 30 seconds?”

Simon sounds amused when he says, “Tick tock.”

Kyle probably couldn’t ask for a better dramatic entrance, so he rounds the corner with a, “What’d I miss?”

Soap yelps and clutches at his chest like an old woman. Leaning against the wall, Simon looks about as surprised as he ever does, which means there’s a hunted look around his eyes, but he mostly looks tired and resigned. He settles into his thousand yard stare and takes a long drag.

“Gaz-bear!” Soap exclaims. He circles behind Kyle and shoves him forward. “Simon has something to tell you that is of a very personal nature. Do not let him distract you with talk about the kitchen! I love both of ye and ah’m tellin’ Price to fire both of ye if ye don’t talk!”

And then he’s slamming back into the kitchen, leaving Simon and Kyle alone in the alley.

He could play coy, but Kyle’s a bit giddy. “You like me, Simon?”

Simon grunts, contemplates his cigarette as he says, “Wondered ‘ow much of that you ‘eard. But don’t worry, I’ll keep professional.”

“God no.” Kyle can’t imagine anything wants less. “Tell me when you wrote me that note.”

“Dunno," Simon shrugs. "6 weeks after that shit with Graves?”

Two years ago, before Price took over, Phillip Graves had been the manager. He’d been a nightmare, harassing hostesses and firing anyone who dared to point out he was bad at his job. After the tenth straight day of a front of house person running into the kitchen to cry, pursued by Graves himself, Simon had had enough.

“I c’n make this a much more hostile working environment if tha’s what we’re aimin’ for.” The big beautiful bastard had shoved his knife a good quarter inch through a cutting board. The reverberation of the blade had rung through the painfully silent kitchen. All of the back of house looked to Farah for direction. She'd looked at Simon. Kyle, Nova, Alex, and the girl they’d been consoling by the fridges had all held their breath.

“I could fire you,” Phil spat.

“You won’t. You fuck with this kitchen, you’re losing your job,” Simon had answered. The fact that he had looked and sounded bored had scared and aroused Kyle in equal measure. “So ‘ere’s what’s going to happen - Keller and Garick are supervisors now. Pay them like it. You got a problem with front o’ house, you talk to them. Another girl comes runnin’ in here, then I‘m coming out there an’ you and I are ‘avin’ words.”

Graves had sputtered, looked around at everyone gathered, then spun on his heel and left.

Three months later, he’d gone missing. Two weeks after that, Price had arrived, greeting Farah and Simon like old friends and preparing to make the restaurant the best Kyle had ever worked at.

What did it say about Kyle that rumors that Simon had gotten rid of Graves for good only made him more attractive?

“That was more than a year ago,” Kyle says, sidling his way under Simon’s arm and leaning into him. Kyle’s not a short man, but Simon is tall and broad and warm under his work tee. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Simon takes another drag, and looks down at Kyle out of the corner of his eye. “I’m not exactly dating material. And you had a bird.”

“I would have dumped her in a heartbeat,” Kyle admits, startled when Simon barks a surprised laugh. “I would have! Fuck, I could have been sneaking out here with you for seven months? I’ll break up with her again right now.”

“Fuckin’ ‘ell,” Simon laughs, smashing his cigarette into the wall and dropping the butt into flower pot turned butt bin. He doesn’t move his arm from around Kyle’s shoulders.

“We’re dating now,” Kyle declares. “We’re boyfriends.”

“Movin’ kinda fast,” Simon points out.

“I’ve been in love with you for more than a year. Catch up,” Kyle dismisses. “My lease is up in four months, and I’m movin’ in with you. Now kiss me.”

Simon doesn’t hesitate. His lips are just the slightest bit rough. He smells like cigarettes and spices, and he turns to bracket Kyle against the wall. One large hand finds it’s way to the small of Kyle’s back to pull him in and press their hips together.

“Fuck,” Simon growls when Kyle moans against his mouth. “Pretty, pushy thing. Gonna be this demanding all the time, Gorgeous?”

“I have a lot of time to make up for,” Kyle groans, nibbling kisses along his jaw. “You should let me blow you.”

“Oh, should I?” Simon’s rumbling laugh sends shivers down his spine. “Should let Farah and Price catch you choking on my cock?”

Well, if Kyle was half-hard before, he’s rock hard now. “God, yeah, let me.”

“Not yet,” Simon growls, and that yet sends sparks flying through Kyle’s veins. His next kisses are just this side of too rough, tongue and teeth making Kyle’s lips so sensitive. Finally, he pulls himself away to pant into Kyle’s ear, “Let me take you on a date, huh, Gorgeous? Let me take you out, wine and dine you. Wanna know all about you, wanna talk about something other than work for more than five minutes. Then I’ll take you home and lay you out. Kiss you all over, suck that gorgeous cock of yours, yeah?"

“Jesus,” Kyle hisses. He tries to rock his hips into Simon’s, but strong hands hold him back. “Yeah, okay, yeah. Kiss me again.”

Simon laughs, dips down to give Kyle another closed-mouthed kiss. “Gotta head back in.”

“No,” Kyle pants. “Kiss me again.”

Simon growls into the next kiss and shifts to press his whole front into Kyle. When he pulls back, he presses a thumb against Kyle’s lips. “Be patient, Gorgeous. Gotta get through work tonight.”

He knows he’s pushing it, but, “…kiss me again.”

Simon’s lips are achingly gentle for a moment and then they’re gone as he takes a step back. “’M goin’ inside, now.”

“Thai food after work?” Kyle pants.

Simon chuckles and adjusts himself. “Yeah.” He swoops in for another brief peck. “It’s a date.”

#GhostGazWeek #dragonnarrativewrites fanfiction #gaz appreciation nation #manic pixie dream ghost #ghostgaz #Gastropub 141 #that's this AU's name until I think of something better #because I have a lot of thoughts about this one #simon is a romantic and he has been PiningTM but he's also ready to get nasty #kyle has an itemized list of ways to get nasty with simon (soap has seen it. it keeps him up at night) #he's gonna love being loved by simon

[acourtofthought]

Would you still consider it a celebration if Gwynriel’s book is next, bc it at least confirms endgame couples?

I will be very happy for Gwynriels and very relieved that it will help lessen the ship wars though I think I'll still feel disappointed.

I want Elucien to happen but I also adore Elain and Lucien as individuals so an Elucien confirmation isn't the entirety of what I want for them.

Az and Gwyn absolutely deserve a HEA and their own healing arcs but there is something to be said for the fact that right now, they are surrounded by love even without a relationship. Yes, they have their own internal struggles but they have a really strong support system, people that have their backs, that encourage them, that believe in them. Az and Gwyn both have their found families but neither Elain or Lucien do.

Elain and Lucien are regularly pushed to the side in favor of the other characters. I understand why that is, SJM has to stay on course with the narrative that they still need to find the court where they'll thrive, but in the meantime that has resulted in them being misunderstood by the others. It results in others speaking for them, the others not encouraging them or helping them find their powers. Hell, Feyre has known about Lucien's real father since ACOWAR and it's almost two years later yet she's still letting him wander around aimlessly thinking he has no place to go.

A Gwynriel book being next means we're going to have yet another book of Elain floating around the River House with no real purpose. Lucien drifting between Spring and the Human Lands while Tamlin remains depressed which means Lucien will feel the effects of that. Elain again not having the chance to have a POV on how she's feeling about the loss of her father, being made, Graysen's rejection, Az's rejection, how Nesta and Az believe she shouldn't be allowed to do anything dangerous. If a Gwynriel book takes 6-9 months, that means nearly three years will have passed from when Elain will have been forced into the Cauldron, given powers from the Cauldron that she still hasn't fully explored and hasn't been given help on training, a confirmed mating bond that remains unaccepted and unrejected, and we will have never had a single person actually ask her how she feels about any of that outside of Feyre's "you couldn't say a single word to him?"

I will be happy for Gwynriels but how can I personally be super excited when that means my two favorite characters will once again suffer for another 6-9 months without having the same support system in place that Az and Gwyn already do?

Gwyn and Az might not have romance yet but they are respected and loved by their friends and we've witnessed that on page. Meaningful moments, moments where their found family have gotten personal with them and asked them to get personal in response (though Az is kind of terrible in that area, we've seen Cassian and Rhys at least try).

Lucien has "friends" in Vassa and Jurian but we've never actually seen that connection, we're just told it's there so we have to assume it is.

And when he tried to open up to Feyre, she made fun of him.

Elain has "friends" with the wraiths but again, we're just told about it rather than witnessing moments that make us actually feel it. And yes, her sisters love her but they don't try to connect with her (Feyre only thinks of her as a pleasant companion).

And the IC, while friendly enough with Lucien, don't necessarily embrace him with any kind of true respect. There's always this underlying current of "can we trust him?", "what can he do for us?" And of course we know Az has issues with him.

The need to prove that both Elain and Lucien belong somewhere other than where they currently is starting to feel a tiny bit overdone to the point that it's a bit cruel, and while that to me would be a perfect time to end their suffering, I can only imagine what another book of that would look like.

#pro elucien #elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra

[astarionfixation]

Chapter 11: +I am not a glass doll+

Part of "Am I Fu**ing Insane !?!" A multi chapter adventure in Astarion’s mind

Rating: EXPLICIT ROUGH SEX (intercourse PIV)

CW: Blood, Sex

Word count count: 1.9k

Pairings: Astarion X OFC Tav

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54356776/chapters/140917522

I have a quite serious praise kink. Which also means compliments in the forms of tags and/or comments might very well spur me to write and post more

** Thoughts "" Dialogue - - Remarks ++ Quotes / Memories

SUMMARY: In this chapter we simply finish the sex marathon we started 3 chapters ago -to jog your memory, she's on top, for the first time ever- Cause I imagine Pacing is of the essence for someone who's been around over two centuries like Astarion. If we had caring cuddly Astarion in the previous two chapters let's just say things get a fair bit rougher here... consider this your content warning for serious Rough stuff.

He has to close his eyes because, if along with the sensations her swaying hips are eliciting from his cock -strangled within her velvety warmth-, he also lets the vision of her soft, perfect body reach him, as it makes languid, serpentine circuits with her back arched and breast exposed as she impales herself repeatedly over him, that alone might make him come undone.

Her movements are excruciatingly slow, as if every inch of him has to be felt and pressed upon, as if her centre is gauging every sensitive spot on his cock and after a moment of attentive reactions she keeps learning and repeating exactly those that are driving him the most insane with pleasure.

His hands still gripping on her hips, though without any pressure or conviction, only to have his fingers full with the grasp of her softness.

*there’s absolutely nothing I can teach her…*

His head rolls back and he doesn’t even realise he must have arched his back enough so that now he hits a new, deeper spot inside of her and a louder gasp breaks through her throat as her movements halt with his cock completely buried inside of her. His eyes shoot open to find her biting her lip.

“Are you alright? Just… let me stay still for a moment… get used to me… we don’t need to ru–”

The words die in his throat with a groan ending his sentence as her hips have resumed their undulation, slow yet hitting harder and deeper every time she presses herself flush against his crotch.

“Do you want me to stop?”

She breathes every word as her rhythm remains unaffected. She suddenly lets him pull out almost completely and his instincts have his fingers dig deeper in her hips to keep her close

“No… please.. I was… just worried… about you”

“Stop worrying about me Astarion, I’m not a glass doll”

There is something incredibly enticing about the way she chose her words, though before he can spend any longer on them, her entire body is overhanging above him. Her hands reach to the headboard of the bed as she’s got him completely trapped between herself and the mattress beneath him. Her soft, perfumed locks caressing his shoulders are the last thing he registers as suddenly this new angle makes a scream of pleasure escape his lips. Though her own lips capture his immediately and now both their moans are just filling each other’s mouths.

This is a new kind of kiss, ravenous, she’s not just kissing him she is…

*biting!*

Her teeth are pulling at his bottom lip and yet in a flash her tongue is pressing harder against his own. Teeth clashing against his and for a moment he still tries to focus on covering his own fangs with his lips for fear of hurting her. But that’s when her words resonate and unlock something in his body

+I am not a glass doll+

A hand quickly moves across her back to press at the nape of her neck, pulling her closer still, the other one reaching for the small of her back as his own hips arch against hers, his cock buried deep inside of her, reaching surely an impossible depth for a human. He might think about how sore this will make her feel later but those thoughts have all but left his mind, finally beautifully empty for once, and all he knows is what his body feels.

Her incredibly tight cunt throttling every inch, every spot, of his insanely hard cock, every beat of her pulse reverberating around it and rippling across his crotch and dispersing around his body. 

Her thighs locking his hips in place, pressing harder and harder against his bones and a fleeting thought carrying the desire to hear himself crunch, crushed by her grip, almost tips him over the edge.

Her teeth biting down on his lips without restrain as her kiss gets rougher against his mouth and her hips movements are beginning to match that raw need until she angles herself just right and another moan makes him almost roll his head back. When he does, her teeth don't relent and that's when her bite on his lip finally draws blood.

As the metallic flavour hits his senses everything turns to a blur. The pressure around his cock drives him mad and in a split second he’s grabbed her arms and reversed their positions, flipping her on her back as his hips now pound into her impossibly wet and engorged sex. Her measured slow movements are forgotten, replaced by sudden, hard thrusts that make him want to go deeper, and deeper until there’s nothing left of her to discover, to feel, to taste.

One hand grabs at her wrists and pins them above her head, holding them in place in a rock hard grip, as the other reaches to her thigh, pulling her leg up to curl around his own waist

*Deeper… deeper… deeper*

Her sighs and moans have left room to screams and heaving, and he can tell her own hips are trying to meet his thrusts best as she can in this position. He arches his back so that his mouth can devour hers again and this time there’s nothing resembling concern about his fangs, as they go directly to graze at her lip, nipping just enough to draw her own blood now wetting his lips

*We’re even now, you minx!*

His mouth latches onto her lower lip, sucking on it to draw more of her ambrosia as his hips keep pounding into her relentlessly. Even as little of her blood as this scratch allows him to take in is sending his entire body into a frenzy. His movements scattered and impossibly fast, thrusting in and out of her swollen cunt and he only realises how far he’s taken things when suddenly he feels her clenching around him, the feeling almost as if his own cock is to be strangled and torn apart from his body. The leg draped around his hips pressing into his backside as to pulling him closer *deeper* inside of her whilst her entire body convulses in spasm. Their lips separate only because, in a jolt of pleasure, her head rolls back letting out his name in a scream. 

With his mouth now on her neck, he can’t even remember that’s exactly the spot he fed from just hours before, but the freshness of the wound must be what pokes at his instinct when in a moment his fangs tear at it as his mouth captures her pierced skin and finally he can swallow mouthfuls of the heavenly liquid she carries in her veins.

The flavour of her coating his tongue, just as the spasms of her climax still choke his cock, are the last thing he can grasp onto with any lucidity as his eyes roll in the back of his skull. He’s senselessly thrusting harder and harder into her that if any semblance of reason had been left in his brain he’d know he’s bruising her, but no notion other than chasing that absolutely idyllic promise of untainted pleasure is driving his rough motions now. 

He can feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge as the random clenching from her last climactic twitches are tantalising his cock. His fangs instinctively pressing harder onto her flesh as to getting still *deeper* into her is the only vagrancy he can still follow, in every direction, be it flesh or sex.

His focus is such that it’s not until the tip of her tongue barely caresses the outer shell of his pointy ear that he realises she’s back in control of her movements after her climax. The feeling of her soft bite on his earlobe a moment later, on such a sensitive part of his body, is the gate to perdition and with a final thrust he pushes everything he has into her. A white light explodes in his mind as his own orgasm takes control of every jolt and involuntary reaction of his pale, tensed body.

Sparks are inundating his vision and his physical brain, some ecstatic and some as if pure radiant damage is dispersing across his every thought. Any flash and image that ever existed in his mind is simply flooded with the bright, gleaming pleasure that began in his cock and is now dispersing across his skin through the entirety of his body. His hips pressing flush against hers buried as deep as her fragile form allows, an animal marking his territory with his own seed filling her insides.

His skin still tingles from the aftermath of his pleasure when his brain slowly sinks back into his body and feels hers pressed against his as his mouth is still full of her blood springing from her neck

His lips keep latched onto her still, though his blood drawing has stopped, his tongue freely caressing her skin and gently soothing the wound in an attempt to close it again.

Every shallow exhale that leaves her lips still carries a soft moan. As he leaves a kiss on the closed punctures and moves to his elbows to leave her space to breathe he realises his hand is still holding her wrists down in a rock hard grip so tense he almost can't feel his own fingers. 

He drops his grasp and his fingertips go to caress her forehead, her cheeks, swiping her hair aside. 

“You were definitely worth the wait, my sweet… you are perfect… are you alright? Was that… too much?”

With her hands free he feels her fingers run through his own hair now, a soft hum resonating through her chest as her swollen lips, still crimson tinted, pull into a smile, her head shakes slightly before she gently speaks

“Definitely not… I don't think I could ever have enough of you… but now I know my dreams never did you any justice…”

At that he can feel the corner of his own lips pulling, the delicious stinging of his lower lip a delightful reminder of how savage her desire for him was, and that settles his mind upon the only sensation her lovely expression brings to him: bliss.

After placing a soft kiss on her lips he slowly pulls his softening cock out and a unique kind of satisfaction fills him as her body still twitches, a soft sigh exhaled with what sounds like quiet laughter, and as he rolls on his back he pulls her to his chest and he can feel immediately her arm circling to reach his shoulder, her naked leg draping possessively over his.

“You’ll have to tell me more about those dreams my darling… after all… there's nothing you desire that I'm not willing to give…”

His voice leaves the question hanging suggestively and he feels her face pressing, hiding against his chest so that the arm circling her pulls her closer as a soft laugh resonates from his lips. Her soft murmurs let him know he's not going to get that answer now as the tip of her cold nose is now pressed against his own unusually warmer skin. Her breathing is regular and slowing enough that the rhythm lulls his own senses into actual, restful, sleep.

For the first time in his entire existence.

#astarion #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion fanfic #astarion x oc #astarion x reader #ao3 fanfic #astarion x tav #bg 3 #astarion ancunin #astarion angst #bg 3 fanfic #astarion bg3 #baldur's gate astarion #astarion smut #bg3 #baldur's gate smut #tav x astarion #astarion fic #astarion fanfiction #astarion fluff #bg3 smut #astarion romance #astarion pov #soft dom #soft dom astarion #dom astarion

[olivsie]

Wait so do you guys think the "i see your wife with a man who in haunting" is a double meaning

I've seen many fans on here already make the connection that the man in question is Odysseus, which makes perfect sense considering the whole palace coverd in red thing

But, obviously Odysseus does not know this which is a part of what propells him to throw away all morals to get home.

But i wonder if the lyric was some kind of double meaning/maybe alluding to Odysseus killing antinous. Now, having read the odyssey, I'm aware antinous was the first suitor killed, but from what we get of the snippets of the song king. I sounds they might be alluding at some final battle between him and Odysseus (and probably Telemachus too considering he says "get away from him"). And it would still make sense with the lyric in no longer you. Antinous is a haunting man and from the lyrics of "hold them down" he was getting DANGEROUSLY close to Penelope.

EDIT: I messed up apparently that thing with Telemachus was from royal wisdom burst which was apparently a cut song, But I think the overall idea Still remains intact With the whole weapons room thing Even though they only guy that we know SO FAR is in the group here is amphinomus

#epic the musical #odysseus #tagamemnon #the oddyssey #greek mythology #epic the underworld saga #the underworld saga #the Underworld #Penelope #jay herrans

[statementlou]

hi it's just me being nosy and asking a follow up to your vinyl anon--what are some of your non-1DCU favorites? collection tour please 😇

hiiii gosh and look you even put the link on for me to make it easy! The question itself is NOT EASY though I was like BUT WHAT IF I FORGET ONE?? Like what CATEGORY of favorite?! But the timing couldn't be better, I am currently as previously mentioned in the process of moving all of my stuff around, a huge project that 1) is perfect for listening to records while I do things like move books from one shelf to another and 2) means I just today moved my record player to a far better place where I am actually using it again for the first time in ages (for one thing onto an actual properly non wobbly surface) so I listened to records today and picked a few that will do sorry to all the others I forgot and love even more I'm sure

I picked first up Daydream Nation by Sonic Youth not just because it's so good (IT IS THOUGH) but also because it's an album that having it on vinyl feels SO right and it makes me happy just to handle; the pretty Gerhard Richter painting cover, a little crackle and pop with the music, the aesthetic of it all! I mean Sonic Youth probably literally birthed the indie hipster luddite aesthetic, it seems Right™ Second is The Bonny by Gerry Cinnamon, because being able to listen to the songs The Bonny and Ghost specifically on vinyl feeds my soul in deep and important ways. Also the 4th side is blank and etched with lyrics, like the JHO single, very cool. And last the record/album I've almost certainly played the most times in my life, even though the copy I have has skips now (to be loved is to changed and all that yk) and I haven't to date been able to bring myself to buy a reissue or pay $$$ for another original: 24 Hour Revenge Therapy by Jawbreaker. It's just important in like 15 different ways okay? Tip, if anyone is like huh! I will go listen to this album I've never heard it (DO!! also then tweet it at Louis a lot, he would REALLY LIKE IT) I think the best way to do this is to skip the first song the first time, it's a whole different vibe than the rest. Also right now my fave is LTLIVE on vinyl 😭 playing records makes me want to put it on SO BAD :((( also bonus content, one of my favorite things about records for some reason is seeing who goes next to who idk I just find it fun and if I were naming a band it would totally be a big consideration... so for extra tour of the shelf, Gerry Cinnamon is between the Germs and The Gits (listen the Cs are crowded, it's my shelf I can do what I want), Sonic Youth was between The Snuts and Social Distortion- which the astute may notice is not correct, she will be going back other side of Social D- and Jawbreaker nestle cozily between Japandroids and Jerk With A Bomb. Louis, for the record, lives between very twee girl band Tiger Trap and very fast hardcore band Tragatello, lol. A weird bill, that, but they do have one thing in common- all feature queer musicians

#gosh all three of these are so MELLOW🤔 #I think even though I also like a lot of very not chill music there's something about the vibe+vinyl for me #I am listenign to the tragatello record now though which is anything but and that's also a great time so hey okay #this is outrageously self indulgent forgive me innocent dash denizens who just want to talk about louis in peace #it's cam's fault for being an enabler!

[nebuladreamerrr]

The art of colours| Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

Summary: After four hard years of study, you are finally graduating which means you must hand in your final thesis which Kylian is very proud of until he finds out who you have dedicated this thesis to.

Warnings: English is not my first language, and I am not studying anything related to psychology so there may be mistakes in this field.

As you gazed into the mirror, a smile of pride spread across your face, admiring how the satin suit hugged your frame flawlessly. This moment marked more than just the end of your studies and training. It signified your official entry into the realm of psychology, liberating you from the confines of your office.

The past four years have been undeniably challenging, particularly within the realm of psychology, a field so crucial to our daily lives. In an ever-evolving landscape of knowledge, students were required to continuously engage in various training courses to stay abreast of the latest therapies and discoveries. Yet, the most demanding aspect lay in the field placements. Let me tell you, those placements were the epitome of your career's purity, where the true essence of your calling came to light. However, they also exacted an emotional toll. Witnessing the anguish of young children, whose concerns should have revolved around playtime rather than dinner schedules, was profoundly draining. It was in those moments that the weight of the responsibility you carried truly settled upon you.

Finding the perfect balance between personal life and studies proved challenging on a personal level. Kylian's schedule was packed with games, advertising campaigns, conferences, and interviews ever since he announced his departure from the French club, not to mention the upcoming Olympics that summer. Nevertheless, both of you managed to find a way to organize yourselves. Despite the chaos, two days belonged entirely to you: Mondays and Sundays. On these days, you caught up on the little everyday occurrences, from Dembélé's new car to contemplating a vase for your living room. You cherished these conversations, reveling in their innocence and spontaneity. To you, they were a tangible expression of the love you shared, something you made a conscious effort to prioritize. Even though you lived together, daily life often kept you apart more than you'd like.

On the flip side, amidst the stressful situations and disparaging comments your partner endured throughout the year, you made a concerted effort to establish one-on-one sessions on Sundays. In these sessions, you provided a safe space for him to open up and confront the negative thoughts tormenting him, aiming to help him channel these emotions and find solutions to his overwhelming feelings. This task was far from easy. Kylian, being naturally closed off, often attempted to postpone these sessions, fearing vulnerability. Over time, however, they became more manageable. Occasionally, they concluded with Kylian seeking solace in your embrace, tears flowing freely as he grappled with feelings of failure in his endeavors to satisfy French fans, whether due to online criticisms or harsh comparisons with other players.

Kylian marveled at your knack for reframing his thoughts and showing him the silver linings in every situation. He tended to dwell on lost games, mentally berating himself for missed opportunities and what-ifs. However, since meeting you, you consistently helped him find something positive in each of those moments. It was easy for him to forget that his career was a journey of constant growth and learning. Even when a loss felt like the end of the world, you reminded him that it could have been worse—like being sidelined with an injury for the rest of the season. Your perspective not only shifted his mindset but also helped him appreciate the invaluable lessons hidden within every setback.

He was in awe of your ability to infuse brightness into even the darkest moments, whether they were everyday occurrences or major events. Despite his busy schedule, he made every effort to support you in any way he could. Whether it was giving you a massage during long hours at the computer or preparing your favorite breakfast of coffee with almond milk and avocado toast topped with a grated egg, he sought to motivate you on days when you barely had time to eat.

So, when you shared the news that you had finally completed that assignment, he couldn't contain his joy. He enveloped you in a tight hug, overflowing with pride. Without hesitation, he swiftly arranged an elegant dinner by the beach to celebrate the culmination of all the time you spent locked away in your office. Excitedly, he accompanied you as you opened the package containing your five printed papers—four of which would be submitted for your final year dissertation examination, while one would remain in your home as a cherished keepsake.

This morning, he made a concerted effort to motivate you, ensuring to planted a gentle kiss before you departed for your lecture. However, he also wanted you to come home to a space where you could unwind and relax. He mentioned that he would subtly start tidying up his house—perhaps clearing away the breakfast dishes that still lingered or straightening up the living room, which had become a bit disheveled from the movie you only managed to get halfway through before drifting off into sleep.

As he tidied up the living room, his gaze inevitably fell upon your photocopied final-year project, eliciting a smile. His eyes traced the meticulous attention to detail evident in the neatness of the photograph, which sought to visually summarize your thesis. The title, "The Art of Infant Psychology," was adorned with vibrant shades, each color imbuing significance. The accompanying picture, with its play of reverse colors, mirrored the essence of your thesis—exploring how colors could influence children's cognition and how educators, parents, or legal guardians could discern potential concerns through the colors or drawings their children presented.

Subtly, he lifted the book, intending to leaf through its pages at a leisurely pace. While he didn't expect to grasp the technicalities you had employed as he didn't think he could understand the technicalities you had used as you often tried to share them with him and, not understanding them, he would simply kiss you back as he admired you saying, "My girl is the smartest". However, his intention was diverted when a particular page quickly seized his attention: "Acknowledgements."

"Firstly, I would like to express my sincere thanks to my tutor, Chloe, for her guidance, support, and dedication throughout the process of writing this dissertation. Her comments and suggestions have been fundamental to improving my work and carrying it out in her rigorous way.

I would also like to thank the teaching staff of the Psychology degree for providing me with quality training and encouraging my interest in research and innovation in this field.

Furthermore, I am grateful to my friends and family, especially my parents, for their emotional support and understanding throughout the process. Their words of encouragement and motivation have been a great boost to keep going and overcome the obstacles.

Lastly, I would like to express my deepest gratitude to my partner, Kylian, who has been my unwavering support through the darkest days. He has been my greatest inspiration for pursuing this end-of-degree project, as he embodies the essence of the art of colors. To me, Kylian is more than just a footballer; when I look at him, I see the vibrant hues of the rainbow, and for all these reasons, I consider him my source of vitality.

While it's said that no one color is superior to another, I believe that a blend of colors is far more captivating than a single shade. We witness this in a painting, where the variety of colors chosen by the artist leaves us in awe.

Well, that's what Kylian means to me. He embodies the color red, symbolizing vitality and passion, as he tirelessly pursues his dreams and supports those of his loved ones, including mine, even when we feel exhausted.

Moreover, Kylian is like the color orange, representing healing. He has been a source of profound healing for me, especially mentally, arriving at a time when I felt I could barely stand, yet he fearlessly stood by my side, offering unwavering support and reminding me that we're in this together.

Similarly, he radiates the warmth and brightness of the color yellow, bringing joy and optimism into my life. His presence is infectious, spreading happiness like sunlight, simply hearing his voice lifts my spirits.

Indeed, we cannot overlook the significance of the color green, representing nature's enduring presence. Just as Kylian embodies this natural beauty, he also mirrors its essence in his unwavering support and understanding. Much like the everyday rhythms of nature that we often take for granted, Kylian's steadfast encouragement has been a constant in my life. His support has never hindered my academic pursuits or demanded more time than I could give, flowing as naturally as the gentle swaying of tree branches in the wind. For this, I am deeply grateful to him.

Kylian also embodies the tranquility and calmness of the color blue. Despite the pressures he faces, he maintains a serene demeanor, navigating through challenges with grace and composure, much like the gentle sway of tree branches in the wind.

And then there's the color purple, symbolizing magic and spirituality. Kylian's spirit is truly enchanting, inspiring not only me but also those around him. He's deeply influenced by the motivations of his loved ones, infusing his actions with purpose and meaning.

In essence, Kylian has profoundly changed my life since the day we met, and for that, I am eternally grateful.

In summary, I would like to express my deepest gratitude to all the people who have contributed in any way to the realization of this work. Your contributions have been essential to achieving the objectives set and bringing this project to a successful conclusion.

Kylian couldn't help but feel confused and surprised, but above all very happy. From that moment on, his face lit up, as now more than ever he allowed himself to make that night unique to show you how proud and grateful he was that you were part of his life.

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian x reader #mbappe imagine #mbappe psg #mbappe x reader

[dysabria]

neither a shaniac or a boogara but instead a secret third thing (a liminal)

#steven lim #ryan bergara #shane madej #watcher #watcher entertainment #mystery files #boogara #shaniac #no #liminal #working title perhaps #it means in between though!! which is perfect #good ol’ big apple steve

[chidoroki]

August 1, 2023 - TPN’s 7th year anniversary - ft: Emma & Ray at the Seven Walls

#the promised neverland #tpn manga #tpn emma #tpn ray #emma #ray #rayemma #my edits #i mean..of course it had to be seven wall themed?? it was the perfect opportunity for it! i wish i got two more ideas though so i couldve #had 7 images as well but whatever. i like these very much. even reusing some elements from other edits again was kinda fun. so kudos #if you remember which. but yeah i really love this arc. i switch back n forth between this and GP being my number1 quite frequently. #but ANYWAYS! i cant believe it's been another year. this series is my absolute favorite & will always have a special place in my heart.

[devilsskettle]

i've watched a lot of good films lately in an attempt to catch up with a bunch of movies that have come out recently, but talk to me was the best movie i've seen in a LONG time

#i put off watching it for so long because i was sure it was overrated + i'm generally not a fan of possession movies #(because so many of them try to be the exorcist and they will never be the exorcist. you know how it is) #but holy shit. genuinely a brilliant movie in every aspect of filmmaking + completely aligned with my personal taste #+ exactly what i look for thematically in possession and/or ghost movies #+ the absolute perfect balance between psychological and gory #and like i said SUCH a good cold opening #tbh i think it's a useful trick to know how to get your audience to buy into a supernatural premise from the very first scene #i think that takes some VERY effective + skillful writing and directing #and as someone who again typically does NOT like possession movies i usually end the movie NEVER buying into the story #not because i'm a 'skeptic' or whatever just because the writing doesn't do the work #but SCENE ONE of this movie i was so in it #anyway. movee of all time to me #also from the trailers etc i had thought that that fluffy yellow sweatshirt mia wears at the beginning of the movie was a bathrobe lmao #my first impression of what this movie was gonna be like was NOT correct #anyway 'recently' means in the past 2 years i guess? #actually maybe this post was a lie because i LOVED nope which was also just an absolute cinematic masterpiece #anytime i watch a jordan peele movie it's just like. this man is so far beyond any other filmmaker out there right now #it's almost unfair to watch lol like an olympic gold medalist running laps around a middle school track team #anyway ummm. yeah talk to me was good though

[sskk-manifesto]

Osamu Dazai and the Depressing Era

#I have so many thoughts through my mind these days I was barely able to focus on the episode. I kept zoning out #I made barely any post #Okay some thoughts. The thing that really hit me since the first time watching b/sd... Is the– #“I don't kill people because I want to write about lives” “I start doing good because my friend asked me to” #Like I get grey morals and everything but also. Sorry for being so simplistic but I think everyone should do good / not kill people– #because killing people is bad lol. No because of other personal reasons #I really *really* feel b/sd ultimately has a very nihilistic approach to life. #And that when Oda said “You won't find a reason to live whether side you're on. Both sides are the same.” it's not Oda-character talking– #but it's really the author expressing their own worldview through the one character that's the most distinguished #They really think there's no difference between good and bad in their little nihilistic world. #Which is something I personally don't agree with. #“It is a given that everything that is worth wanting will be lost the moment I obtain it” #......... No it's not you just need to go to the shore and listen to the waves crush and the seagulls squeal dude. It's going to be okay. #That's why it's so easy to portray Dazai as perfect and flawless for the author btw. #Because nothing he ever did in the pm was wrong if “good” and “bad” don't mean anything to begin with. #And this is coming from a deeply relativist person. But I believe even grey morals have a limit. #Thus my general disagreement with most b/sd themes #I don't know why I went off this tangent btw I didn't intend to. #I suppose it bears repeating once in a while where I stand compared to the b/sd themes and my personal interpretation of them #(Even though I acknowledge most people don't agree with such interpretation... ) #There were other things regarding the episode I needed to say but I forgot... #One of them was that season 2 Dark Era proves that even amv openings can actually be good if you put enough budget in them #Which makes me even more pissed at the season 3 / season 5 ops #random rambles

[fourswords]

in my free time i'm typing out a little post-adventure of link story from loz 1 zelda's perspective on link bringing this OTHER princess zelda who was apparently asleep for centuries (and thank you SO much for the WARNING that he was going to be DOING this, IMPA [<-entirely sarcastic]) back to the castle and the acclimatization of everyone to the whole situation and it's genuinely so fun. loz 1 zelda's standing there like alright how do i gently break it to my relative from the distant peaceful past that she has to learn how to fight in this time period or she's going to get ripped to shreds by monsters. and then she says exactly that and when aol zelda predictably looks mildly freaked out about the subject and is just standing there internally screaming like yep! okay! sure! death and destruction is rampant in this world and it kind of makes me wish i'd never woken up at all! when do fighting lessons start! loz 1 zelda is just standing there like. hm. was that not gentle enough. i feel like that wasn't gentle enough.

#it's about the severe disparity between their times. #when you grow up in a golden era of peace and you are a literal princess and your father is. iirc the correct wording used in the manual. #a child of a man. you are not going to learn how to fight. ESPECIALLY when you have an older brother who'll be the successor to the throne #when you are the princess in a time of peace then everything is going to be about image. about perfection. about being everything #the people expect from a daughter of royalty. a status symbol of ultimate proportions. so it goes #but when you are a princess in a time of complete and utter destruction. when you are a princess in a time where it is a miracle to even #survive the day sometimes. what good is image? what good are expectations? #the people of your land are survivors. they survived for a reason. lord yourself above them and there is every chance they could #destroy the last drop of royalty they have left. there is no manpower in the form of an army of knights. #and you are a survivor too. you shattered your birthright and fought your way across the land and through dungeons #to hide the pieces and you were captured and held within a cage of flames for god knows how long #and still you survived. so even though your people bite and rage you love them because you did the same. #there is never anmention of her parents. as far as we know they're dead and she was simply waiting until she was of age to be crowned queen #(<-a mention*) #so she is no status symbol. there is no perfection with her. the people begrudgingly look to her to lead them out of the hell #that has become their world and by god is she going to do it. and there is nothing left she can offer these people but brutal honesty #which is the only honesty this world has to offer anyway. it's only honesty everyone knows. #no pussyfooting around like rich people do with their speech where they say one thing and mean another. a habit i'm sure #would only flourish in peacetime. none of that. if you are not clear with your words and intentions in a land where everything wants you #dead then that's a one-way ticket to getting yourself or someone else fucking killed. #so it's like. the two main aspects of how they were raised kind of clashing full force with each other #you can only be so gentle when you grew up in a land devoid of it. you can only shape yourself into a fighter so much #when you grew up with the concept of it being foreign to you. yknow #gestures incoherently at them. blorbos truly....... #txt

[lannisterdaddyissues]

I love reading your replies and brainrot tags! It motivates me a lot and I will keep drawing for this! Thank you so much 😭 baby!Bradley will be such a cutie! He likes baby!Jake but doesn't want to admit it gshags, I keep wondering who can be Bond then my friend said Hondo and omg inagine a big doggo, so huggable 🌷 icemav chemistry remains the same hahaha with Mav and his horrible cooking and Ice being a perfect husbando 🌷 both love their little family! (Also imagine Cyclone in a tennis battle with Mav and witnesses him cut a tennis ball into pieces lol)

NGHNSFHJGFAHJf oh my GODDD hondo as bond is so cute wtf 🥺i am LIVING for this, he does have such huggable energy and he and mav would still have that friendship that transcends human and dog communication…

NOT CYCLONE AS FIONA THOUGH you are such an evil genius for that, i can’t get the mental image of cyclone in an ugly wig and tennis dress out of my head now 💀 god help me

#also i just realized when i was ranting in your tags that i mixed up who is on the westalian side and who would be on the ostanian side LOL #anyway i cant possibly imagine who would be yuri in this case 💀 nobody likes mav enough to be that insane over him except ice LMFAO #maybe goose could be like. a non-incest version of yuri. maybe you could combine the blackbells with yuri to make the bradshaws #goose could be mav’s extremely overbearing best friend/older brother who is constantly checking in on the family #to make sure that ice is measuring up as the perfect husband for mav bc he has extremely high standards for mav’s partners #and carole is his equally effusive wife who is constantly up in ice’s business because they’re family which means no secrets between them #and she’s a funky gossip who wants to know every intimate disgusting detail of their private lives as a married couple #only the best for mav ofc 💅 #and bradley oh my god BRADLEY WOULD BE THE REAL YURI THOUGH #HE’S SIX YEARS OLD BUT SEES ICE AS COMPETITION FOR HIS FAVORITE UNCLE MAV’S ATTENTION #AND WILL NOT GIVE UP UNTIL ICE IS GONE #SO ICE HAS TO WIN HIM OVER BUT HE CAN’T #and then bradley and jake could go to school together #so now on top of operation strix and befriending the enemy for world peace jake has to befriend bradley to keep him off ice’s back 💀 #and bradley doesnt like jake at first either LMAOO #thats all the brainworms i have right now but honestly switching it up and putting the bradshaws in yuri’s place would be so hilarious #hope you enjoy my thoughts 💐 #ask #reply #miichiyochin #miichiyochin-sideblog

[perenlop]

very funny out of context fun fact about my ocs is that dr footstep caused castor’s parents’ divorce

#so explanation. dr footsteps level 5 dialogue implies that there's a social gap between wild and caught pokemon #wild pokemon tend to seek out trainers to join their teams so that they can get stronger and certain types (tough iirc) brag about it #while other types tend to wonder if their friends from the wild would even recognize them if they were to meet again #meanwhile wild pokemon who dont want a trainer are implied to be either prideful of not having a human or resentful that theyre weaker #so. that dialogue inspired me to create the story between castor's parents which i can say bc it has no bearing on the real story lmao #basically dusk was specifically bred to have perfect IVs and a hidden ability and bought by a trainer who didnt exactly neglect her #but didnt give her much of an emotional connection and only cared abt what she brought to the table with battling #so she didnt exactly have a choice in being caught at all nor did she have any choice in her specific trainer. #regardless though. shes in a place where it's supported that wild pokemon are missing out and shes in the best possible position #so she boasts about it and kinda looks down on wild pokemon #bruno meanwhile was an alpha pokemon who was practically pushed and trained into a leadership role since he hatched #he was born in a group of skorupis and its been an unspoken expectation that they are his responsibility #being an alpha also means that he didnt actually need a trainer to become as powerful as he became (reaching around level 75 just being wild #so he also looks down on trained pokemon because he did not have that experience and finds solace in his community #yet at the same time he resents his position bc he never chose to be a leader and he has to pretend to be vicious #when in actuality hes extremely tame for a drapion and wants nothing more than to settle down #so dusk deep down secretly kinda yearns for the wild bc she wants to know what its like and bruno secretly wants a chill trainer #that probably just feeds him and lets him sleep in their yard #meaning that the two of them are Inherently incompatible despite what they believe #bc like no matter what. if they tried to stay together someone would have been miserable #because dusk has no experience in the wild at all and likely would have perished sooner than anticipated #and also doesnt get the rigorous training she desires #while if bruno joined her trainers team then he would be leaving the skorupi to be vulnerable in the great marsh #and joining a team where only his mate would have had an emotional connection to him when community was so important before #and so they both have to stay in their positions and theyre both kinda looking down on one another AND being very jealous of them #so like. they can talk abt how their romance was escapism all they want but it NEVERwas gonna work out. sorry castor #you were always destined to be a child of divorce #id like to think that dusk at least gets a different trainer that still uses her competitively as she loves #but also gives her the affection and friendship and connection that shes always yearned for #but like. way way later on bc when she gives up castor she is extremely deep in the fog and terrified of losing her trainer