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wallflowerimagines · 3 years

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Hi! if your not busy or backed up could you do the four lords( and possibly the dimitrescu daughters totally cool if you dont) helping a s/o who's stressed about starting college

I'm cracking my knuckles right now. CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!!

Warning: Some unhealthy behaviors? You call these dorks out on it though.

Alcina Dimitrescu

Initially, you're stoked! College is a big deal for anyone at any age, and you're thrilled to check off this box on your list of accomplishments. It's a big deal!

A...really, really big deal...

Your internal monologue becomes a mess of "Oh god, oh fuck, oh no", on loop, ad infinitum. There's a lot to consider here, and with every new thought you just get even more stressed.

The minute Alcina sees you in this state, she pulls you in for a hug, plays with your hair, and talks you through your feelings. Do you really want to go to college, or do you feel forced into it? Are you worried about the distance? The amount of work? Do you want her to hire tutors instead?

She very much takes a logical, structured approach to addressing your worries. If it's a problem with paperwork, she can have someone handle it for you. If it's general stress she very efficiently talks you through your feelings. If there's someone in particular that's making you feel this stressed, they'll just disappear. No muss, no fuss.

Alcina dissects any possible reasoning you might have to be pressured until it's such a non-issue you feel almost silly for being panicked at all.

Still, she promises to call you every day, if you need her. Honestly, she expects you to call as often as possible, because she's going to miss you like crazy. But she will always be there for you, Darling. Don't you ever worry about that.

Donna Beneviento

College? You're leaving? 🥺

Donna's not trying to guilt you, but the thought of being away from you for an extended period of time is extremely stressful. It's not quite separation anxiety, but it's close.

Something might happen to you if you're away from the Manor for too long! What if you need help and she can't get to you? What if someone tries to hurt you? Donna might be sheltered, but she's heard things about what happens at Colleges, and not all of it is good.

Considering the fact you're also stressed about this situation, it's not a great combination. Both of you are very emotional at the moment, so there's a likelihood that this might cause one or both of you to have a little breakdown.

Instead of your normal fun, relaxing nights together, the lead up to your departure gives your nights a different atmosphere. You're on the floor of the sitting room, sifting through paperwork with a devastated look on your face, while Donna is nearby and trying hard to pretend this isn't happening.

One of you is going to break first, and the confrontation is not going to be pretty or easy. It's a build up of a bunch of emotion, and both of you just sob while holding each other tightly. You vent your worries to Donna, and she explains her concerns to you, and while you guys might not solve all of those dilemmas in one night, both of you do feel better after having explained your anxieties to each other. Communication is key for this to work out, and both of you need comforting.

Donna winds up building you a brand new doll with a piece of her Cadou in it. It's a new member of the family, specifically crafted to keep an eye on you and help you two communicate over long distances. If something goes wrong, or you two miss each other so badly you can't stand it anymore, you two talk through this new friend and immediately feel connected. The distance doesn't feel so great anymore <3

Salvatore Moreau

HYPED! (Devastated)

Moreau adores you, and he is so, so happy you're going to go pursue your dreams. He can't wait to hear about all the things you've experienced, all the people you meet...

You're going to make tons of new friends, he just knows it!

(You're going to meet someone else, someone better, and you're going to leave him. He just knows it. )

Moreau will never tell you how he really feels about you leaving. You could have a full blown panic attack, and he will hold you close, comfort you, reassure you, and do his absolute best to make you feel better. Meanwhile he is absolutely trying to bury the fact that he thinks you're going to meet your perfect partner at college, abandon him, and live your own version of happily ever after.

It might sound silly to you, but it's a genuine concern for him. He's a monster, and you're about to leave to spend time with a bunch of normal people. As he holds you close and convinces you that the things you're stressed about are easily solvable and are tasks that he could help you with, internally he's absolutely convinced that once you leave, you're going to find your soulmate on campus.

The last thing he wants to do is add to your stress, so unless you can read him well, it's likely you'll never know how worried he is. He's so focused on comforting you and making sure you feel confident enough to handle your next adventure that his own worries take a backseat.

He'll be less concerned if you call him and tell him about your day. It reassures him that you love him, even from afar, and his own stress dissolves when you start to ramble about how much you miss him. 💕

Karl Heisenberg

It's cute that you think you're leaving him behind.

You two are a team, did you seriously expect that he'd be alright with you leaving? With you trying to go to a campus where he can't get to you if something goes wrong?

Heisenberg reacts like an upset pet or a clingy child when it comes to the idea of you leaving for college. He knows it's not forever, and he knows you're coming back--that's not his problem.

His problem is the fact that you're leaving at all.

You two are partners-- a perfect match. He's had this idea in his head ever since you both became a couple that the two of you would hardly ever be apart. Now that you're going to be out of his sight for longer than a week? It's preemptively triggering separation anxiety. He's not happy.

He genuinely tries to get you to take exclusively online courses if you aren't already, just so that you stay with him.

He's so consumed by the concept that you'll be away from him that it takes a while for it to click that, uh, this attitude of his? Not helpful.

You're twice as stressed as you were before, and now you're also angry at Heisenberg for pulling all of this childish nonsense. You love him, but he's being an incredibly insensitive dumbass, and you've got to call him on it.

Phones exist. Skype exists. Hell, the two of you can write letters to each other if you want. It's not like he won't ever get to talk to you! All he's doing is adding to your stress and making you feel worse about a big decision that you've already made, and that's not okay! If he's supposed to be your "perfect match", why isn't he being more supportive?

That snaps him right out of it. While Karl still sulks a bit, he puts on his big boy pants and gives you a proper apology.

Once he's got his head on straight, he's very good at helping you through your worries. Heisenberg will massage your shoulders, talk you through any paperwork you might be having trouble with, and helps you triple check your to-do list. He loves you, and always wants to help, but sometimes he gets carried away.

Just...promise to visit often, alright? He's gonna miss you. 💕

Bela Dimitrescu

Jealous. As. Hell.

She doesn't openly make it obvious, but you know her. You know Bela's little mannerisms and tells, and it's obvious to you that the eldest daughter of the Dimitrescu clan wants to go to college along with you. Unfortunately, due to the fact that she can't easily travel, she can't come along.

It's... not a great situation, considering you're so stressed. You're worried about admissions, being accepted into the classes you need, your curriculum, but Bela doesn't try to comfort you. Instead, she sulks in the background.

Eventually, this blows up between the both of you. You're upset and angry that Bela isn't being more supportive, and Bela is angry that you're the one who gets such an incredible opportunity to leave and explore the world while she's stuck in Dimitrescu Castle.

Why are you stressed? It's an amazing opportunity, it doesn't make sense that you're so worried!

...She's so harsh about it that you might start crying, at which point Bela realizes that she might have fucked up. The last thing she wants to do is hurt your feelings, so she'll pull you into a hug and immediately babble apologies until she's blue in the face.

Once you calm down, you're going to have to explain that just because it looks and sounds fun, College does have challenges of its own. The idea that you get to go learn all sorts of things isn't sunshine and roses--there's a lot of pressure to do well.

Bela is a little quiet after that, but you notice she's much more supportive. She starts to treat your worries more seriously, and even will go to Alcina to try to get some advice on how to help you.

She's still a little envious, but she hides it better now. The last thing that Bela wants to do is stress you out right before you leave. She loves you, and wants your last memories before you go to be positive and something happy that you can look back on when you're away.

Cassandra Dimitrescu

Thrilled for you!

College sounds so exciting! She honestly desperately wants to go with you, but due to the composition of her body, she can't exactly leave the Castle.

She winds up asking you all sorts of questions, following you through the hallways, wondering how you feel about leaving to a brand new place, with brand new people, all of the classes you're going to take....

...It really doesn't help with the anxiety. Cassandra won't leave you alone, and is so fixated on asking you all these questions that it actually makes you worry about things that you hadn't even considered before. What if you hate your Major? What if your professors turn out to be terrible?

Instead of your cheerful responses from before, you start to shut down at all of the questions. Cassandra quickly cues into the fact that something is wrong, and when she asks, all of your worries come pouring out.

Immediately, she pulls you into a hug and apologizes. She didn't mean to stress you out at all, she just wanted to share the experience with you!

Once the two of you clear the air, though? She cracks her knuckles and goes full bookworm.

Cassandra's...not great at staying focused, but she does have a few tips and tricks that she shares with you if it helps.

She also is really great at finding resources that might help you out. Despite her issues focusing on anything other than non-fiction, she does know her way around a library, and will pull any and all reference texts about what you might be studying while you're away.

By the time you're ready to leave Castle Dimitrescu, you've got two years worth of knowledge packed into your head, an optimally organized suitcase, and a lingering kiss from your girlfriend that makes it hard to worry about anything else 💕💕💕

Daniela Dimitrescu

...doesn't handle it well at all.

Daniela doesn't want you to leave. It doesn't matter the situation, it doesn't matter what the context is, you're her partner in crime and she refuses to let you go.

In fact, she tries to sabotage your efforts to leave.

It starts small. Your suitcases mysteriously unpack themselves in the middle of the night. Important papers keep going missing, and you have to reprint a lot of documentation. Your phone disappears for hours at a time.

When all you do is grumble and fix what she's messed with, she gets angrier and escalates. Your laptop goes missing. Your textbooks disappear. You start to question where you left your keys, because they seem to move around the room without your input.

Meanwhile, Daniela is being passive aggressive any time you bring up college. She refuses to talk about it at all with you, and acts like you're not even leaving.

It all comes to a head one day when you burst into tears from all the added stress. This is so, so important to you, and not only are you not getting any help or comfort from your partner, but all of your stuff is going missing!

Daniela immediately feels terrible. As much as she didn't want you to go, the last thing she ever wanted to do was make you cry.

She's not super emotionally mature, so while she comforts you, she has a group of flies separate from the rest and bring back all of your things. You figure it out an call her on it, but she actually looks on the verge of tears herself as she explains to you why she did it. She's so, so sorry, but she doesn't want you to go! She loves you!

You two have a long talk about why this isn't cute, funny or acceptable, no matter her feelings. You might even bring Alcina in on it, just in case. Still, the two of you do work through it, and while Daniela isn't the best with helping with general prep, puts 100% into keeping your mood high.

With time, she finds herself... well not okay with it, but she can now tolerate the idea. As long as you talk to her every day!

(And yes, she calls you multiple times a day when you're gone. Alcina eventually caves and gets her a phone, just so she isn't constantly using the line that Mother Miranda uses to check up on the Castle. The two of you talk so often you barely even have time to miss her💕)

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rainbowloliofjustice · 3 years

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I hate how so many people just... lack any kind of critical media literacy across so many different genres and how just about every genre and common tropes, issues, etc. within them just get boiled down to "Oh this is bad because ableism/racism/homophobia" even though the tropes largely have nothing to do with that. It's like they have such a surface-level understanding of something and then proceeds to read into said surface-level understanding in a contest to see who can come up with the most disingenuous, bad faith, uncharitable and just all-around god an awful interpretation of it.

"Characters having prosthetics as an allegory for losing their humanity is ablest because it is saying that if you got into an accident you are a monster." No, you absolute peanut. Robotic parts specifically are an allegory for the loss of humanity in characters that just get rid of their human body because they were being reckless, stupid, thought that it was not perfect enough, too weak, etc. Oftentimes, this is juxtaposed with a character that is a robot but is more human than the cyborg or person that just gets another piece of them replaced with a machine.

Ironwood getting increasingly mechanical parts as he is making increasingly inhumane choices in regards to himself and others is not saying he's a monster because he had an oops boo boo and had to replace his arm. ESPECIALLY when his character is juxtaposed by a character who has a robotic arm (Yang) and a character who is a created robot (Penny). The reason why Yang said that her robotic arm (and even taking pride in it at that) is "just extra" because it is just an extra asset to who she is as a person, but not her whole person. In terms of Penny, she is entirely made of machines but has what amounts to a human heart and compassion because she makes a choice to be kind to people. The allegory here (that y'all failed to understand) is that it is not whether or not someone has prosthetic or robotic parts that determine their humanity, but rather their choices and how they treat others.

It is often also the same in stories where it has characters who have robotic parts such as Alita Battle Angel or anything that genuinely comes from cyberpunk dystopia. Alita (Who is completely robot mind you) is often more kind, compassionate, etc. than characters who are fully human. Hugo and his crew regularly steal parts from cyborgs who've done nothing to him and this is juxtaposed by characters like Grewishka and Zipan who are mechanical and monstrous but not because of their parts but because of their choices. Which is a strong contrast to Alita who is fully kindhearted and has a strong sense of justice and doing what is right regardless of whether there is a price tag on it.

In more dystopian stories wherein no short words, the corrupt government controls technology and spies on its people using it, it can be a question of how much of your humanity (in this instance, privacy and agency over oneself) you're willing to sacrifice for comfort or just because you had to. But of course, rather than looking at these stories as a potential warning that we should make laws that would prevent the government from using technology against its people under the guise of safety, convenience, etc. Or even having people question wtf do they do should the government get so corrupt that it can just hijack someone's arm or even just stop someone's pacemaker because lol why not.

Yeah I get it, it's uncomfortable but unfortunately, the people who need it the most are going to be the people most at risk to a corrupt government which is like... kinda the point.

But anyways moving on

The same can go for when stories use animals as a means of telling stories revolving around discrimination. But ofc people can only see it as a surface-level "racism" and then do their damnest to force characters into being black/poc or white (and for some reason, only those two races) while failing to realize that the reason it was done is that discrimination has more than one axis. I swear this logic is what has convinced me all the talk of intersectionality in activism is just a joke they say to get other people to just shut up and let them speak over them and ignore problems/issues they don't want to focus on. It's like the only thing they can understand is racism and even that racism is only if it is hatred and black people vs white people. And somehow even that is on its most basic level.

The reason stories like Zootopia and Beastars work when it comes to discrimination because it doesn't solely focus on the narrative of race and allows it to explore the implicit and explicit biases of every character that doesn't exclusively revolve around racism. It allows characters to be on the axis of sexism, racism, class, etc. and explore various -isms that are not always "negative" in the sense that it is just hatred, racial slurs, etc. and that it can be the "positive" racism like saying "you're one of the good ones" or that "they're a token to xyz for not being as bad as everyone else."

It allows characters to fall on multiple axes without people arguing whether they have it "too good to complain" because of just one axis of discrimination that they give more weight to than others for some arbitrary reason.

Even when it comes to things like nudity being a symbol of being true to oneself or purity (such as Sailor Moon or Kill La Kill) people manage to, unironically boil it down to just the writers feeling horny and therefore ignore any other kind of lore, storytelling, etc. that revolves around it. They took one thing, scrubbed, bleached, and then nuked it of any kind of context/meta just to say lol writers horny this bad it literally means nothing else even though there are whole ass plot lines revolving around it. Like do you just pick and choose what kind of plot or storytelling is Valid (TM)?

And this extends to things beyond that and I just don't understand how people can lack such media literacy when you can literally go and read anything you want online. Is it because of people being willfully ignorant? Just lacking media literacy for some reason? Only consuming and understanding media that has to have every meaning shoved down their throat like the tentacle down an anime girl's throat in a hentai??? Like there are so many questions as to how people can come up with so many dumbass takes.

#rainbow things #as you can tell i am like mad #like mad mad #ive seen one to many bad media takes today and yall i cant #i cant fucking do this i can't handle this shit how are some of yall this DUMB #its like you have to intentionally scrub and remove it of any context to come up with some of these takes #like all of it and put it in some vaccum and say #yup the writers did this cause they were misogynistic/horny/racist/ableist #and im just like bruuuuuhhhh #context matters #context clues matter #like holy fuck how did some of you bypass 5th grade media literacy with these god awful takes #or are you just willfully dumb for social media???#like do you NEED to be spoonfed EVERY FUCKING THING??#do they have to shove it THAT far down your god damn throat???#insert rainbow and eldritch screaming cause holy fuck #like i feel like that one woman whose power ring melted and she screeched like a pterodactyle #thats me thats my fucking mood rn

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cyncerity · 3 years

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TOMMY FINALLY TALKING TO RANBOO FOR THE FIRST TIME LIKE “sup motherfucker give me my damn house back” ranboos like THIS LITTLE DUDE IS ALIVE?!? Tommy’s like that isn’t important rn give me my home

(I have a feeling these asks were sent by the same person, but if they weren’t it’s kinda funny they were sent at the same time and have the same writing style lmao)

Ranboo would freak out, definitely. He’s definitely noticed this weird doll that Tubbo always carries around, but he hasn’t ever mentioned it. He’s just kind of learned to live with its existence. Even if he thinks he’s going crazy cause the dolls expression keeps changing. So yeah, let’s have Ranboo meet Tommy >:)

“So what do you want me to do?”

“Just close your eyes and hold out your hands! It’s not that hard, bossman.”

Ranboo begrudgingly squeezed his eyes shut and held out his open palms. It’s not as if he didn’t trust Tubbo, it’s just that Tubbo could be…weird, and he was a bit nervous for his “surprise.” Ok, maybe more than a bit.

…

In all fairness, screaming might not have been the right response. But what else was Ranboo supposed to do with the talking doll in front of him? He hadn’t tried to scream, it was a natural reaction! It definitely wasn’t what Ranboo had in mind when Tubbo had said he wanted to “show him something cool”.

Tubbos hands went immediately over Ranboo’s eyes and mouth, at which point Ranboo heard the same, unfamiliar voice he had heard earlier mumble “fuckin rude” before Tubbo whispered to him. “Shhh! We don’t need to call extra attention to ourselves, do you want your brother to come in here! What the hell?”

Ranboo dropped the doll on his lap and pried Tubbos hands off his face. “What do you mean ‘what the hell’?? That-“ Ranboo pointed to the doll, which was now on his lap, crossing its arms and staring at him, and not moving, strangely enough, “just talked! I should be the one asking you ‘what the hell’! Why’s it alive?!”

“First of all, he’s not an ‘it,’ he’s a ‘he.’ And his name is Tommy. Second of all, hes my other best friend, so you’d better get used to him. And the only way to do that is to talk to him.” Ranboo grumbled at Tubbo before picking up the doll in a fist and holding it up. “Tommy” just continued to stare at Ranboo, and it clicked to Ranboo that the doll hadn’t moved at all since he dropped him. Maybe it wasn’t the doll that had been talking, maybe it was something else? Had he been wrong? Ranboo looked back at Tubbo, exasperated.

“It looks like your ‘friend’ doesn’t want to make much of an effort towards friendship either.” Tubbo rolled his eyes and sighed. “You have to close your eyes, big man. He can’t move or talk if anyone’s looking at him.” “This has to be a prank-“ “Just do it!!” Ranboo huffed in frustration and closed his eyes again.

The doll spoke out again almost immediately. “Fucking finally!” Tommy shouted before sighing as he saw Ranboo��s jaw drop and his eyebrows raise. “Ranboo, listen, the whole ‘eye contact’ thing is a long story, and why I’m alive is an even longer story, but I need to know if you still have that dollhouse that your therapist sold you.” Ranboo thought about it for a bit before putting the pieces together. “…I took your house, didn’t I?”

“Not necessarily,” Tubbo said. “I told Aunt Puffy she could sell it before I found out that the dolls that lived there were alive. So they’re kinda homeless. We didn’t even want to tell you in the first place. No offense, but you seem pretty stressed out, and memory problems and cursed dolls don’t mix well.” Ranboo only had a short amount of time to linger on the guilt in Tubbos voice before the doll piped up again. “The problem is, we don’t know how to get the house back into Tubbos basement without looking suspicious. Tubbo’s dad has turned the basement, where the house was, into his personal office, anyways. Neither of us want his family questioning why he would suddenly want the house back, since we’re not sure how they would respond to living dolls-“ “Wait, dolls? As in more than just you?” Ranboo interrupted. “Yes, more than just me, keep up, dumbass. Anyways, my family wanted to just move here since they don’t have any particular attachment to Tubbo. And it’s not like I do, Tubbos the clingy one, not me, it’s just that your brother is terrifying and our last meeting didn’t go…great. So your house is out. Any other ideas?”

Ranboo didn’t know what the doll was talking about until he recalled the last time Tubbo had brought the blonde doll to his house. At the time, Ranboo had found it odd that Dream playfully tossing the doll around had resulted in Tubbo almost breaking down in tears, but he now understood how badly that could’ve ended.

“Dream didn’t mean it like that, he couldn’t have known, I’m sorry-“ Ranboo said before being interrupted by the voice again. “I don’t need you to be sorry, I need you to think! What the hell do we do about this?”

“Actually, uuuhhhh…” “Tommy.” Ranboo nodded quickly before returning to his thoughts. “Actually, Tommy, I might have an idea…”

~~~~~~~~

“So why are we here exactly?” Wilbur said. Tommy had left everyone extremely confused after he spontaneously decided to gather everyone for a family meeting, only to direct them onto the floor and say “follow me.” They had assumed Tommy wanted to talk more about their house after he told them they couldn’t get it back nor live in Ranboo’s house, but instead they now found themselves walking down the hallway towards god knows where. It’s not exactly like they had bothered to explore the house.

“Tommy, this is risky.” Techno muttered. “What if the humans come down the hall?” “It’s 3:30 in the morning, Blade, we’ll be fine.” Tommy retorted.

“I have to agree with Techno on this one, Toms. This is really risky.” Phil said. “It’ll be worth it, I promise, just follow me!” Tommy began to walk faster towards wherever as the rest of the SBI looked at each other and sighed before catching up to Tommy.

After a few more minutes of walking, the dolls came upon a door. Tommy knocked on it a few times before it swung backwards and he ushered his family in in front of him. The three of them looked up and froze, for once not because of someone’s stare, but from shock.

Above them stood Tubbo and Ranboo, doing their best to plaster shingles and mini columns to a model doll house that sat on a table. It looked like a sort of log cabin, complete with fake snow, but was so much bigger than their previous house. It took up half the room, and the half it didn’t take up was paved with wires that seemed to spout from the bottom of the house.

“What- what is this?” Phil gaped. “We felt really bad that we couldn’t get your house back, so we wanted to make up for it!” Ranboo nodded along as Tubbo spoke, both continuing to keep their eyes off the dolls and locked on the mini mansion. “I told my aunt that me and Ranboo should do some sort of ‘therapeutic bonding activity,’ which she bought. So we looked around a bunch for doll houses that would be correct to your size, but we couldn’t find any that where exact. So I had my friend Foolish 3D print out some custom walls and stuff. And we ordered the rest of the furniture and other supplies on Amazon.”

“Well, not all of it.” Ranboo said. “We still wanted your input on what it should look like on the inside. There’s all sorts of furniture and mini wallpapers we can buy online or make ourselves.”

“The electricity was a bitch, though,” Tubbo interjects, gesturing to the mess of wires on the floor. “Just be thankful you’ve got automatic lights and a heating system. We didn’t really see the need for running water or a tiny fridge, though, since you guys don’t seem to need food or showers.” Phil, Wilbur, and Techno looked on in varying levels of excitement and awe as Tommy looked at them with a proud smirk on his face. Phil looked over to his son, tears threatening to spill from his eyes, before he pulled Tommy into a tight hug, Wilbur and surprisingly Techno shortly after.

“Well,” Wilbur said, “looks like we’ve got a few decisions to make here.”

To say Schlatt and Puffy were confused when they walked in in the morning to find Ranboo and Tubbo passed out over the mini house, dolls strewn about the room, and over a hundred online orders of different fabrics, stickers, and doll furniture would be an understatement.

#cyncerity #cynwrites #Eyes Off Me AU #tiny!tommy #tiny!sbi #giant!tubbo #giant!ranboo #mcyt g/t #mcyt gt

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incarnateirony · 4 years

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Someone dropped this in my submission box instead of ask box, “So I’m trying to genuinely understand what you’re saying is you understand corporate execs at the CW had a hand in the ending of supernatural? I’m not judging not attacking I swear I’m just trying to make sense of it because I had no idea about any of this up till now because I had stayed out of online fandom because well for years it felt big but anyways am I getting this right?”

---

The CW has a hand in everything. Here’s how this generally works.

The authors have ~relative~ freedom on a show. That is to say, the execs really don’t sit there splitting the nuances of the storytelling the fandom is receiving. They generally don’t even identify major markers that any of us would know (see: not even recognizing what the Roadhouse is.) -- we all knew the original ending had TFW at the Roadhouse as framed and spoiled by 15.04 among other details, and the whole “heaven/mental bar” theme from DSOTM, Nihilism, and Last Call all amplified this as an inevitability--but when you ask about “hey, is there a bar in heaven?” and get a “no?” that tells you they don’t even understand *ancient* plot beats like the Roadhouse, much less the ramifications of what it’s supposed to entail. Oh look at that, the roadhouse was just in fucking heaven like we said, but you identified it as a “cabin” because of filming locations and your basic notes.

Corporate has very basic compliance demands. They expect X, Y, and Z. What X Y and Z are across different shows vary depending on their markets. As long as the authors operate within X Y and Z, the corporate face essentially works off of synopsis of pitches and ideas.

This is also why I’ve talked about queer writing history and people being careful what they call queerbait: you don’t know what their X Y and Z are. The WB for example does not really CARE about representation. I’ve blogged about this often. We’re dollar signs. If they can package a new product to market it explicitly as LGBTQ fare, then they’ll turn you into a revenue machine by feeding you that particular fodder. When it comes to legacy shows--which is funny, because when the suit went off in my DM about this, they used the exact same phrasing as me--they’re going to play it safe, especially if they don’t truly understand the returns from the demographics they’re observing.

The space between X Y and Z is where the authors have liberty to push and, the longer and harder they push, the louder the content is allowed to get.

Here! I’ll even quote them directly, somewhat truncated because they ranted for fucking PARAGRAPHS.

“In reference to the media landscape, on a corporate level we do not distinguish fandoms. [...] That said, legacy shows such at Arrow, Supernatural, and even Flash are relics and we never really endeavored to reinvent the wheel on a corporate level, we are more focused on shows that are newer and still in our pipeline to premiere. [...] As for social media like all businesses and brands the engagement itself is key, but the content of the engagement is mostly irrelevant, though every show does have certain keywords that are often used in conjunction with harsher interactions blacklisted.”

The funny part is, they thought they were preaching to me like this was new information, but those of you that have been around my blog will PROBABLY RECOGNIZE this is almost VERBATIM exactly what I have told everybody over the years. Enough I half-suspect some trolls out there will think i wrote it myself and made it up and lob that accusation around. But there’s about 50 people that watched this conversation as it unfolded.

If you guys get mad? You’re still giving them PR. If you engage the content? You’re giving them PR. If you guys get bitchy ENOUGH? They completely blacklist a certain kind of engagement. I have literally been telling you all of this for years.

They don’t care who you are or what you want, just if you’re watching and what they at-best roughly estimate your demographic as desiring. So for example, Supernatural reading as a largely non-urban white demographic in its viewership, especially with a heavier lean in red states than most shows on the network, they presume to cater to what they perceive that demographic wants, rather than individualizing the understanding of the content, because they do not distinguish the shows or fandoms. “Oh, heavier republican white non-urban demographic” is where their understanding ends at, which is why they’re going to be utterly mystified why even my trump-voting republican neighbor from rural Alabama looked at the end result and went “what the fuck?” -- they weren’t expecting a big gay confession, but they were expecting a different sort of final tone.

Of course they’re never going to take that on for themselves and go “wow, we’re giant blazing dumbasses that understand nothing about the show!” -- they’ll, for example, claim they don’t leave network notes, when they’re still the ones passing material along about demographics and expectations etc etc. Their notes are *basic*. They do not leave *extensive* notes. Because extensive notes require extensive understanding of the content.

So for example: Berens spent since S9 slowly gaying up our show. Since they do not pay attention to the fine details of the story contents (lol no bar in heaven lolololol just a cabin lololol), he never got a note to *stop*. But it was not within the original structure plans and didn’t technically fit the demographic notes. The show continued to get aggressively gayed up, and Berens never really signed a note like “hey, I’m gaying it the fuck up” so even fandom reporters were going “THERE’S NO INTENT THERE!!!!!” -- berens operated in his very basic X, Y, Z landmarks to expand content within a story the suits literally do not pay the fuck attention to.

Corporate’s understanding is basic: dudes stabbing monsters and brothers against the world. Play in that box and keep these demographic notes in mind. You’re good.

They’ll NEVER mention blacklisting issues directly beyond what they admitted in the above quote but I DO remind you I have ranted ON AND ON AND ON how much Destiel fandom shot themselves in the goddamn foot with a fucking bazooka with the Chad Kennedy incident years ago. Others like Emily handled it intelligently to inform the *authors*. No, the network will never tell you if they blacklisted Destiel, but I informed you pretty heavily years ago that odds are, yeah, they probably fucking blacklisted Destiel.

Add in paying attention to the things Berens himself liked (if you don’t believe, scroll to Nov 5 on his tl)

Like, listen. berens knows exactly what he did and did the best he could do in the situations that were set up for him. And, frankly, I had been talking about this season as a writer room rebellion all year--just like corporate DID leave them a note in S11 that they couldn’t kill god. But if they couldn’t kill him or cage him, they would find another way. In 17 we said goodbye to Meredith and, in a way, to a MAJOR portion of Dean’s substantial story. In 18, we said goodbye to Bobo, and frankly all the parts that grew into queer Castiel that came with it. 19 and 20 became residual notes of hitting expected plot beats on the head on a rhythm, tying off godforces, and then just sliding into the Dabb subversion of them having learned to grieve, let go, and process emotions-- just the surrounding delivery left the feeling of more ~wanting~ on that front which is understandable.

But these are the kind of things people don’t even ~think~ about. This is WHY I’ve turned myself into a bulletshield protecting Berens’ work for YEARS while people yelled about queerbait not understanding the years of process he used in his unbabysat space to make something unable to dodge.

More posts he liked:

This isn’t a solo story. At the same SDCC he leaned over to my friend and grinned, whispering, “I hope you like what I did this year.” -- he knew. He knew and he fought his ass off but there was an end of the line.

That end of the line having an extra note or two to drop in the finale--never a big gay confirmation, just a “everyone’s there together, assume what you want” --is its own thing. As it is, Jensen even remarked how much of his dialogue got cut in final draft out of 18, and if the brazil dubbing footage leak tells me anything, they got the raw version before it was cut. And before they ADR’ed Dean’s sniffling collapsed against the wall. They had everything right, beyond the fact that there was supposed to be more dialogue from Dean along the lines of, “You can’t go”, or “you can’t leave” (difficult to determine what a ESL person seeing an english draft then yelling in portuguese then translated back to english meant, specifically, but something in that ballpark -- just like “don’t do this” came as “no it’s not” through the translation pipeline), and other similar minor bartering about this. And we’re not even gonna get into Dean’s hilariously loudly ADRed sniffling on the wall. Here, Jensen, breathe IMMEDIATELY into this microphone.

But they’re never going to tell you this. Of course they’re not.

Summarily, corporate had half a year of having to re-manage scheduling everybody’s flights and planners during covid rewrites to stare directly into the huge gay abyss and fuck things up.

It’s all about the unmonitored space vs the monitored space. Of COURSE they’re never going to fucking tell you these things.

FRANKLY I am DYING to see the Portuguese dub of the show to see what the fuck they do with it, all things considered. I’m pretty sure the suit in my inbox that’s trying to vagueblog around things sideways now never accounted for the fact that there’s copies of the raw available in some parts of the world. I’m... pretty sure they thought they were my only leak source in fact.

Either way--it’s not that corporate micromanages and passes constant notes. It’s that they gloss over vague summaries and plans, drop a few base expectations and performance boxes. It’s up to the authors how to kick up dust inside those boxes.

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whumpmatsus · 3 years

Note

Why hello there new blog. 👀 I shall watch with interest. Would it be fine to ask for Karamatsu with a bad stomachache/similar?

hehe, I hope you enjoy watching!

and YES of course! God I'm such a Karamatsu girl 😩

We've got some of everything here, I think? Oops All Matsus! XD ... but the Choukeimatsu is definitely strong in this one haha

enjoooooy! <3

It’s kind of a given that in a house with six brothers in close quarters, anything one of them catches is going to end up running its way through all of them.

It’s… less of a given that Karamatsu is going to be the one who recovers last.

Most of the time he’s the first one to push through it, seemingly via sheer power of will because he wants to take care of the others. Or, at least, he’s not usually the one still down for the count when everyone else is on the mend.

This time around, he’s been curled up on the couch since all of them woke up this morning. They’re all feeling fine, while he’s apparently still feeling like crap.

He’s set himself up with a wastebasket nearby and he’s refused everything his brothers have tried to shove down his throat ― water, food, even medicine is turned away. They all might think he’s just being stubborn if not for the fact that he’s so clearly still sick. Regardless, they’ve stopped trying to offer since they know he isn’t going to take any of it.

As far as Karamatsu himself is concerned, if whatever sickness he’s got is going to kill him, he wishes it would hurry up and do so already. He doesn’t know how much more he can take. There’s an uncomfortable, cramping heat in his belly that’s constantly threatening to flip into something much worse. He’s been vomiting for a couple days now, on and off, like the rest of his brothers. Unlike them, however, it hasn’t gotten much better for him.

He tries so hard to be cool and unbothered. This is starting to worry him, though. How come everyone else is back to normal while he continues to struggle not to puke at the mere thought of plain rice?

For as much as Totty claims to hate germs, the youngest has been camping out next to the couch most of the morning, playing on his phone. It affords Karamatsu a view of the games Totty’s playing and the videos he’s watching; distractions as he tries to keep himself from tossing what little there is left to toss in his stomach. He isn’t sure whether or not Totty planned it that way, just that he’s grateful for something else to focus on other than the unbearable nausea.

“Heyyyy, Karamatsu-nii-san,” he suddenly speaks up, holding the phone closer to his miserable older brother’s line of sight. “What do you think of this pretty girl? Is her dress the right color for winter? It’s cute, but, I don’t know… I think maybe she would have looked better in blue…”

Now, Karamatsu isn’t sure what it is about the video clip Totty is showing him. It might be the bright lights in the background, or it might be the twirling motions the woman on the screen is making. Or, quite frankly, it might be nothing at all, since he feels so horrible.

But only a few seconds after he squints at the video clip, his stomach rebels against something. Although he wants to reply to his dearest younger brother, the second he parts his lips to give a clever retort, he feels his stomach clench. Saliva pools in his mouth, and he quickly raises a hand up to his face.

He swallows once. Twice. Three times. He tries to take a breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth like Choromatsu taught him. Nothing helps, because he ends up gagging anyway.

Immediately Totty yelps and launches himself away from the sofa. All the noise, particularly Karamatsu’s heaving, catches the attention of the rest of the sextuplets. Soon enough, someone has hurried over to hold the wastebasket beneath him, and someone else is using what feels like all their strength to help prop him over it so he doesn’t miss.

A brief glance up reveals that the one holding him is Jyushimatsu ― of course, he’s the most coordinated of them all ― and Choromatsu is playing trashcan jockey. Karamatsu’s head swims again, and that small motion is all that’s needed for his stomach to protest again. He retches a few times before whatever is left, which can’t be much at this point, splatters into the can.

“Totty!” he can hear Choromatsu scolding the youngest. “W-what the hell was that for?!”

“What was what for?!” Totty retorts. “I was trying to cheer him up! It’s not my fault!”

Ichimatsu snickers from his spot in the corner. “Che, so you made Shittymastu sick by trying to help. Sounds about right for you.”

“Excuse me?! You take that back or I’ll post that video of you being a drunk asshole online so everyone can laugh at my big, dumb brother!”

“HEY!” It’s Osomatsu who quiets the entire room with one sharp word. He’s knelt next to the couch, one hand trying to keep Karamatsu’s hair out of his face. “Would you guys all shut the fuck up? For God’s sakes, let the poor bastard puke in peace! The last thing he needs is to hear you douches arguing while he’s giving the trashcan a new coat of paint!”

For his part, Karamatsu appreciates his older brother standing up for him when he’s unable to do so himself. It’s just a little hard to convey that when his body is trying to bring up everything he’s eaten ever in his life.

It hurts, too. The sensation in his stomach is tight now, painful like there’s a knife stuck in his middle. Every gag makes a stabbing, all-over pain spiderweb through his whole body. As if he’s made of porcelain and something is repeatedly making cracks.

Finally he thinks it should be over, because nothing else is coming up. He shudders and heaves and it doesn’t produce anything other than an uncomfortable ache in his throat. Honesty, his entire body is aching now.

He lets out a few ragged breaths before slumping back onto the sofa, predictably pulled into a more-careful-than-usual Jyushimatsu hug. “It’s okay, Karamatsu-nii-san! I’ve got you!!”

“Aaah.” Karamatsu lifts his hand and places it, shaking, on his little brother’s head to praise him for a job well done. “Jyushimatsu… I’ll leave it to you… to tell my Karamatsu girls… I loved them…”

He hears Ichimatsu scoff. “You should be more worried that you were puking without puking than your nonexistent fangirls, you dumbass.”

“Yeah, that was weird,” Osomatsu agrees. “You heard that too, Ichimatsu?”

“Mhm. It almost made me want to hurl again.”

“Yeah… he should be better by now. I mean, we’re all fine. And he hasn’t been eating, so it’s not like there’s anything left in there. What’s his stupid body trying to throw up? His Goddamn kidneys?”

Karamatsu hears Choromatsu groan. “Oh, my God, you guys are disgusting!” When Karamatsu looks up, the third eldest is hovering over him with a concerned expression. “Ah… they… might be right, though. Karamatsu-nii-san… you’re just as sick as we all were at the beginning of this. It doesn’t seem like you’ve improved like we have. How… do you feel now? Any better since you threw up?”

He tries to laugh. It comes out sounding more like a sob, though. “N… no…” It feels like even too deep a breath will tip the scale on his nausea and cause another avalanche. “I’m… I’m dizzy… it still hurts.”

“A-ah, gosh…” Choromatsu’s hand sets lightly against Karamatsu’s cheek, then neck, and if his face is any indicator, he doesn’t like what he feels. “You’ve… still got a fever. And you’re sweating and lightheaded and… still throwing up. Shit.”

He moves his hand to gently card through his big brother’s hair as if trying to reassure him. “Karamatsu-nii-san… d-do you think you could make it to the doctor? If we helped you?”

That’s not an idea he enjoys entertaining. Having to get up off the couch, bundle up in a coat, ride the train… it sounds so exhausting. He’s already tired. But… if Choromatsu is even bringing it up, he must think it’s a better idea than Karamatsu continuing to try and recover on the couch.

He manages a nod. “Sure… sure, if you help me.”

“Great.” Choromatsu straightens up and heads for the door. “I’ll go call the office and see if they can get you an appointment today. If they can, I’ll go with you, and…” He surveys the rest of the room. “… I’d prefer at least onemore person go with us, just in case.”

“Yeah, I’ll go, no problem.” The eldest’s voice is one Karamatsu didn’t expect to hear, though maybe he should have. Osomatsu is still lingering on the floor next to him, taking the spot where Totty was, and, now that Karamatsu thinks about it, he can feel his older brother gently rubbing his shoulder. “… Do you think maybe we should try to force him to drink something, too? You can’t survive without water, right?”

Choromatsu sighs; not necessarily because it’s one more thing to add to the list, but it sounds like he’s just worried. He probably doesn’t want to force one of his brothers to do anything ― especially one of his big brothers, and especially when said big brother is already so sick. “I mean… yeah, it’s not good that he hasn’t had anything to drink today, and not much in the last few days. Throwing up so much is probably making him dehydrated… which, stupidly enough, can make him throw up more.”

Osomatsu hums in thought and gives Karamatsu’s shoulder a small squeeze to get his attention. “Hey, Karamatsu. Do you think you could handle some tea?”

“Really weak tea,” Choromatsu hurries to clarify. “You’re not supposed to drink anything too intense after throwing up.”

Karamatsu shuts his eyes in a desperate bid to avoid the worried, pleading faces of his brothers looking back at him. Just thinking about anything going into his body and sliding down his throat right now makes his stomach swirl viciously.

He feels Jyushimatsu hug him a little tighter, which doesn’t help matters. “Aww, please, Karamatsu-nii-san! You can drink some tea for your little brother, right? Riiiiight?”

A groan is what he gets in response, though the giggling suggests he isn’t too broken up about it.

His hair is brushed back, and stroked through a few times. “Well,” Osomatsu says softly, “how about for your big brother, then?”

After a moment of thought, Karamatsu lets out a whimper, leaning his head closer that way in an obvious attempt for more affection. “I… suppose I do only have one older brother, after all…”

He hears Choromatsu chuckle by the door. “Good, good. I’ll make some, then. We’ll try not to make you drink too much… and… I’ll call the doctor while I boil water for it. Hopefully they can fit you in. In the meantime, just, um… try to rest, alright?”

At the very least, he doesn’t have to tell Karamatsu twice. The second eldest relaxes, keeping his eyes shut. He hears Osomatsu quietly urge Jyushimatsu to switch positions, and he scoots himself up onto the couch. Somehow he manages to pull Karamatsu into his lap, letting his younger brother curl up against his stomach.

“Hey, there. It’s okay. Big brother’s gotcha, Kara.” A careful touch runs up and down Karamatsu’s back, bringing the slightest sense of relief. “Get some sleep.”

Then Osomatsu pauses, and with a laugh he adds, “Just… warn me if you’re gonna puke again, okay?”

#Osomatsu san #whump #Karamatsu #vomiting #fever #Osomatsu #Choromatsu #Ichimatsu #Jyushimatsu #Totty #aaaaaaaa tHEY'RE ALL TRYING sort of #one single effort was collectively made XD

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gojoscloset · 3 years

Text

“Hello, I just read your writing d**k appointment and I like it very much. And suddenly, I saw that you open the request NSFW dialogue prompts. Would you please write prompt 60 “Looks like someone wants to be a dad/mom” with Gojo or Megumi please 🥺”

Bahaha omg I’m so sorry I’m late as hell I’ve been busy with a lot mentally cause I have the attention span of a goldfish.

Please please enjoy, thank you so much for requesting lol. I’m back on my bullshit ✨

60. “Looks like someone wants to be a mom/dad”

WARNINGS: N S F W

Reposted from previous account

Smut obvs.

Breeding kink???? (if you squint)

Cream pie

Mentions of Pregnancy

No proofread??

————-

“Looks like someone wants to be a mom.”

You didn’t dare look away from what you thought had to be one of the cutest pairs of baby shoes you have ever laid your eyes on.

“Hmm? What do you mean? I just thought they were cute!” you lifted the pair of shoes up and gave your boyfriend a grin.

But Satoru was no idiot.

You see, these past few months have been filled with nothing but waves of emotions and ideas that you would have never thought you would have contemplated this early in life, but a pregnancy scare earlier in the year shook your world and turned it on its axis.

Of course you had imagined a life with Satoru, possibly married in the later years, and a potential family way wayyy down the line. However, you were content with where you two stood. A strong and healthy relationship, 2 consenting adults in love. But you also had to remember you were 2 powerful sorcerers in love. So even with your line of work, kids at the moment seemed really out of the question. Hell, even being in a relationship with someone like Satoru was a blessing with the lives you two lived. So even the idea of bearing his child seemed like you were asking for a lot from the universe.

When your period came late, all your little fantasies and thoughts of having a family took a step closer to becoming reality, you melted at the idea of becoming a mother and all your fears and doubts were thrown out the window.

But alas, the joy left just as fast as it came you were back on your regular schedule the day before your doctor's appointment. Relieved of course, but things weren’t the same.

Day after day you caught yourself indulging more and more in the idea of what your life would be like with a child. Would your first child be a girl or a boy? Whose features would they take on the most? Oh how you prayed to the gods that they would look more like Satoru than anything.

Would you be a good mother? Would Satoru be a good father? There was no doubt in your mind that he would be.

Don’t even get started on the names.

Your gaze would linger when you would pass up children and their parents at a park. Or when you would pass up baby clothes at the shopping strip, you would stop in your tracks and imagine your future child wearing that outfit.

Secretly you would shop for clothes online just to ‘see what they look like’ Or secretly read first time mom forums on breddit just to ‘See how it feels’ but it was so much more than just a passing curiosity.

And of course, You weren’t the only one who noticed the change.

You and Satoru have been in the love game for a respectable amount of time, and have spent the seconds, hours,days,weeks,months,years, in each other's presence. He would absolutely be able to acknowledge when you’d turn your head in the kids section or when your gaze would linger on the little girls in princess dresses at the market, corners of your lips curling just a little.

Or when a toddler at the grocery store handed him a fake phone,in which he pretended to answer with such enthusiasm you would almost believe he was actually on the phone with someone,he could visibly see how your heart melted at the sight. You looked at him like you wanted to marry him on the spot for the rest of the day. A personal favorite memory of his.

Satoru was a dumbass, but he was not stupid.

You didn’t know how much he loved seeing these little things, the little changes in you. Behind his tinted shades and through his long lashes, he would carefully watch your duality go from powerful sorcerer to something maternal.Something you never did in all the time he has known you until after the scare.

It made him want to jump your bones on the spot and put a baby in you every time, but you never brought up the topic despite seeming to be interested in motherhood, and respectfully he left it alone. But you had been caught red handed almost always.

Satoru held himself back when he had various opportunities to talk about it, do you know how hard that is to do as Satoru?

He wanted to press on. He wanted to pry and ask you all kinds of questions regarding the sudden change, but he knew that there was a time and place for everything, and now was definitely not the time nor location.

“Hey, not bad!” He allowed his glasses to slip off the bridge if his nose ever so slightly to get a better view.

“I would wear these if they came in my size”

He joked, you smacked his arm playfully and laughed.

“Cmon lets g-“

You were about to place the shoes back on the rack but he stopped you before you did. He pulled out his phone and snapped a few photos of the shoes and tag.

“I was being serious” he stated plainly, earning another laugh from the both of you.

——

The rest of the day went on as normal, for the most part. The little interaction at the store replayed not only in your mind but Satoru’s as well.

‘Did I make it too obvious?’

‘Did I overdo it with the shoes?’

‘Is it time to talk about it?’

—-

‘Toru..’ you whined but that didn’t stop him from continuing to bend you like a pretzel while plowing into you.

“Don’t be shy now, you look so good like this. ...And those faces you make....” he licked his lips reaching out to grab your jaw, thumb running across your lip.

Even though you were whining about the embarrassing positions he kept putting you in, your body was on fire and didn’t want this to end.

With every position he managed to go deeper and deeper, hitting places only he knew how to hit. He utilized the curve of his dick just how you liked it, grazing your favorite spots with every thrust.

The way your walls fluttered and clenched against his made them his favorite spots too.

It was crazy to you how Satoru knew your body like nobody else did. He knew every curve, every dip, every corner. He knew what made you weak in the knees and what you disliked with a passion. He knew what made you cream, what made you wet, what made your back arch and your toes curl.

“You like that Hmm?” He bucked his hips, folding your legs up, pushing your knees as close to your chest as possible.

He gazed into your eyes, watching the way your face wrenched in pleasure. He needed that, he loved that. Being able to see your expression contour and twist because of him, god it got him off.

He looked down at you, his usually spiky hair now flattened with sweat, strands sticking to the side of his face. He bit his lip, and gripped your hips with force, bruises were guaranteed.

He brought you closer, you slowed your breathing to control the ride. You two had been fucking long enough to know the Cues, the way your body twitched and the little sounds you would make when you were close triggered the muscle memory and he moved in the way he knew would push you over the edge.

“D..Don't slow down!” You commanded, throwing your head back into the sheets, the familiar tingling sensation starting at your core, his pace picking up, hands trailing down your abdomen, fingers circling around your clit, wet with its own slick.

He couldn’t help but suck on his own bottom lip watching your body rock in rhythm with his, the way your breast bounced, he couldn’t help but grab a handful.

“That’s right baby….” he spoke softly, voice just above the lewd sounds you two we’re making. The squelching, skin slapping skin, the gasping sounds when he would thrust back into you.

He was getting carried away, letting the words just spill from his lips. “Mmmm fuck yeah baby, you feel so fucking good.” He groaned “fuck around and put a baby in you-“

You had been with this man for many many moons, had been through thick and thin, but nothing had prepared you two for that awkward moment.

All movements ceased the second he stopped talking. Both of you pulled away and just looked at each other, embarrassment demonstrated on both of your faces.

Both of you seemed to think about the Barget incident, and then every other incident which made the dirty talk hit different.

“Sorry” Quickly he spoke, in hopes of somehow saving his ass in case things went south.

“W-what for?” You continued to try and mask your feelings about the situation(s), but nothing could get past his eyes.

He was no idiot, you knew that, but you still tried him, because sometimes he lets your shit slide. But not this time.

“Please y/n, I’ve seen the change in you.”

The air was thick, momentarily, but the smile on his face gave you clarity.

“The lingering looks, the shoes at the store… I’ve noticed” his large hands cupped your face, thumb brushing calming shapes against your cheek.

“Is there something we need to talk about?”

He released you from your position and sat up straight.

“Toru…do you really wanna talk about this now?????” Sheepish under the circumstances

“Don’t give me that. We’ve been together too long for you to try and play this game with me.”

His hands found their way to you once again. Pulling you by the wrists, he sat you up and made you look at him as he continued to speak.

“Communication remember?” He was soft, yet stern.

“You haven’t been the same since the missed period incident.” Your jaw dropped, he was on it even with the timing.

There was no sense in hiding anything anymore, this man knows all, this man sees all.

“I’d be lying if I said you were wrong….you see..” you began to pour your heart out, trying your hardest to keep eye contact with him.

“The pregnancy scare heightened the want for a family with you, Satoru. I envision a lot of things, and you being in my future for a long long time is one of them...”

He held your gaze while looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world. He listened intently like you were whispering the secrets of the universe to him.

“But I never brought up the topic of family because we’re-“

“Sorcerers” He finished the sentence for you, the small smile he held earlier now turned into a flat line.

The speed in which he did was almost enough to make you flinch. Bittersweet in a way,at least this confirmed that he too thought about a family with you at one point but considered the circumstances.

A“Exactly..” you continued. “And the scare made me realize what I want in life..with you. But it’s out of reach and it’s not something I wanted to project onto- “

His large hands placed themselves in either side of your face and Satoru showered you with kisses.

“I. Love. You. So. Much.” He spoke in between kisses.

“I love you too, but- AH!!! What are you doing??!”

Satoru pulled you by your ankles, placing himself in between your legs once again.

“Putting a baby in you, that's what.” He gave you such a sweet and loving look, it didn’t match the words that spewed from his lips.

“T-that’s not funny…” Quickly, you covered your entrance before he even thought about it.

“Exactly, because it wasn’t a joke sweetheart.”

“Wait, but what about-”

“We’ll be fine, i’m the strongest, remember?” he gave you a playful wink and grabbed your wrists, playfully prying your hands away, he wasn’t going to do anything though, not without your consent, but seeing how flustered he could make you fed the already enlarged ego he owned.

“Now tell me, do you want a boy or girl? Ooh, what about their names?”

“ Satoru… wait… are you sure? Don’t you wanna think about it a little more?”

He let out a playful laugh and pointed a finger dramatically at you, “Are you sure?”

Without missing a beat you nodded, you wanted this so bad, and by the looks of it, so did he.

“That’s all you had to say, let me take care of you, my pillow princess”

-------------

The sultry night was young.How many times have you came already? It didn’t matter.

His arms were wrapped around your entire body, holding you in place as he bounced you up and down his shaft.

“My pretty girl… my sweet sweet princess.” He whispered against your skin, tongue grazing from your collar bone up to your jaw, tasting your sweat. He wanted to breathe you in, and make you his air. The words replayed in his mind as he fucked you senseless.

“and you being in my future for a long long time is one of them...”

“Toru…” Your breathing hitched,, his praise made your walls twitch around him. He got the hint and immediately went to work. In a swift movement you were beneath his form. His skin glistening with a layer of sweat.

“ How do you want it?” he groaned, draping your leg over his shoulder while grabbing the other one, spreading you wider. You were grateful for the change of position, you have been wanting to touch him for a while now but the grip he had you in earlier was not letting it happen.

Your hands hungrily made his way to his chest and arms.

“As long...as I get it…” you managed to mutter through moans. His thrusts became erratic, a sign that he was coming undone as well.

“Look at me..tell me how you want it....tell me how you need it” he licked his lips with desire. You managed to look at him through half lidded eyes, giving him exactly what he wanted, he always did the same for you.

You lifted your hips up some, grinding harder against him, letting more of him fill you up, you could swear you felt his head kiss your cervix. You did a kegel, walls giving his dick a hug.

The actions earned you a breathy moan, he almost lost his cool, it threw off his pace momentarily but when he picked back up, the speed was doubled.

“You like to play dirty, hmm? “

“The only way I like to play…”

“Very well then” he said through grit teeth, finger moving to where you were connected, rubbing your clit in circles without mercy. You were pushed over the edge quickly, mouth Ajar, and body convulsing against him, his movements did not falter.

“That’s my good girl”

He lowered his body down mouth to cage you between his arms, droplets of sweat falling onto the sheets as he tried to avoid sweat falling into your eyes.

“Are you sure?”

He asked once again, not moving an inch until you gave him the go.

You simply stared up at him, goofy grin he always carried on him plastered onto his handsome face.

You gave him the go once again and he bucked his hips.

This particular moment was sweet sweet bliss. Normally Satoru would be careless with his movements when it came to chasing his orgasm, but not this particular one. His touches would linger, fingertips burning themselves into your skin with passion, making their way from your hips to your hands, large fingers filling in the gaps between your own.

His kisses were oh so immaculate. Sweet and soft, but most importantly, abundant.

And the way he spoke your name. Only Satoru could make his words come out like they were coated in honey.

His hips snapped and he gave your hand a squeeze, face in the crook of your neck, the hot breath against your skin forced chills down your spine, with you

“I love you so much…” he groaned into your ear. With a few more bucks of his hips you felt his seed spill into you. You were running on fumes at this point, overkill with the overstim, but that’s how you liked it.

You felt your clit throb, your walls still fluttering against him from your previous climax like they were sucking every last drop of out of him.

He looked down at you silently, but the look on his face, the calm waters in his eyes said everything he needed to say. You couldn’t tear away your gaze, you were already high off the blue dream.

His eyes moved from yours to your lips, they looked needy to him. He bent his head down and planted a kiss, despite the scenario, it was chaste. Innocent. Refreshing.

“I love you.” He repeated, though he had no doubt you felt the same. “I know you do...there is not a single doubt in my mind...and I love you oh so very much, more than I could ever put in words.”

There was another comfortable silence, however, the small smile that was on your face quickly turned into a flustered look when he pulled out of you and spread your legs open, looking at the mess he made inside of you.

“W-what the fuck are you doing?!!”

You laughed nervously and tried closing your legs, but he held them open, too strong for you to try and fight against it.

“I just wanted to see the masterpiece I made. Plus-“ he positioned himself between your legs again

“I’m not done, I want to make sure I get the job done right.”

He gave you a wink, and immediately you knew you were in for a long night.

A very very long night.

#jjk headcanons #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x y/n #gojo satoru #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x reader #satoru gojō x reader #satoru gojo #Nasty Nept✨

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vaguely-concerned · 3 years

Note

Any tips for a TF POV fic? I want to write one because I too went through a time in my life when I let feelings bounce off cuz that was easier, but I feel like that's not quite on point for him 🤔

God I have SO MANY THOUGHTS about this and they’re all so wordless and frustratingly evasive to me yet (I am in the process of writing a looooooong T.F. POV fic and it gives me much more trouble than Graves POV, probably because as a person I’m quite a lot more like the T.F. Type in real life lol). But yes, here we go, let me try to express some of what I personally try to have as my hm ‘anchor points’ for his perspective. (Heavy disclaimer that these are just my personal & disorganized little musings and by no means the only or ‘correct’ way to read the character!)

- First of all I agree, the image of ‘bouncing off’ doesn’t feel quiteright -- it’s in the right neighbourhood but the wrong address sort of thing, but it’s really hard to come up with a way to explain how I feel the nuance here.

*insert three hours later spongebob meme here* Okay, so the metaphor I came up with is: T.F.’s relationship to emotions is a direct parallel to his relationship to water/the ocean: it’s scary down there, it’s dark, it’s dangerous, and if he should ever be dumb enough to try to go in too deep it’ll kill him dead because boy oh boy on so many levels this man just did not learn how to swim. As far as he’s concerned any sensible person would simply bob along on the surface in a sturdily built boat and try not to think too much about the weird shit that lives down there in the depths. (In this metaphor the layer of artifice and performance so habitual it’s basically integrated into the fabric of his soul is the boat. Y’know, the part that’s Twisted Fate and not just plain ol’ Tobias. I’ll hasten to add that I think both parts of his identity are equally ‘real’ and equally him, but the Twisted Fate part is like… protecting the Tobias part. Keeping him from drowning, as it were. I’m not sure he’d think of it like that himself for the longest time, though, I suspect he has more of a ‘that man is dead’ attitude towards the Tobias part after Graves is gone)

I think what I’m trying to get at is the idea that to him, raw emotion is as hostile and unknowable and unnavigable an ‘environment’ as the deep ocean. (And the only time we see him willingly go there, physically and otherwise, is for Graves, so you know let’s jot that down first of all lol.)

- He seems to genuinely quite like and be interested in people – how they think, what moves and motivates them, their secrets and foibles. So I tend to try to keep the uh ‘detail work’ in his POV focused in that direction. Priority going like 1) people 2) people’s valuables 3) the relative availability of people’s valuables at this moment if you have clever hands and a very charming smile haha

- One of my favourite things about T.F. is that he seems, I don’t know… quite genuinely good-natured beneath it all? If you back him into a corner some sharp and dangerous things peek out (he has survived in his line of heh ‘business’ for like thirty years, and a lot of it on his own), but for the most part and when unthreatened he has a sort of mildly amused and intrigued live-and-let-live attitude to the world even as he’s conning it that I find deeply charming. Which to me ties in with:

- T.F.’s first instinctive reaction to danger (perceived or real) the majority of the time seems to be ‘Flight’. Confrontation and violence are basically his ‘when literally everything else has failed’ options. (As seen prominently in Burning Tides, where he just keeps running and running and the only time he actually starts throwing punches is when he has to because Graves is in immediate danger and they’re backed into a corner. Which feels like it means something huh lol, I often think about what could actually make T.F. angry enough that he would openly express it and that seems to be the most likely angle for it in my eyes.)

- My take on one of the fundamental differences between Graves and T.F. is that Graves has A LOT of feelings but doesn’t quite know it (or more like can’t quite conceptualize it I should say) – he has a hard time identifying or finding vocabulary for feelings that aren’t some shade of anger. Meanwhile T.F. KNOWS he has feelings, he just doesn’t like it, ardently wishes he didn’t, and will do pretty much anything to run away and not have to engage with them haha.

Another important difference: when brought out of equilibrium Graves gets angry, and T.F. gets scared. I have the feeling that beneath it all he’s scared a lot, and it’s why his persona is so oriented towards gaining control in ways where people don’t realize it enough to even think try to take that control away from him until he’s already long gone. Misdirection as a way of life babEY

- This might be too deep in the ‘my WIP/process specific’ territory to really count as general analysis, but I think it’s there in canon too – there’s almost a feeling that he implicitly feels like he has to make up for some fundamental flaw or lack he has at the core? (Not a weird thing for him to end up feeling, considering what happened to him as a kid.) All the rest of him, all the cleverness and style and charm, is there to ‘make up’ for how at the end of the day he’s… wrong somehow. As Graves, who knows him better than anyone, focuses right in on, a coward. And that is CERTAINLY not the whole truth and even Graves in a full rage relents when he sees the effect the accusation has on him and once he gets the actual facts of what happened. But I think that sense of deep unworthiness is what’s stuck with him emotionally. His people left him because there’s something fundamentally lacking and immoral about him. He lost Graves because he’s not good enough, because he’s a coward who leaves people behind. He deserves to be alone. Mix in a ton of survivor’s guilt to taste, and I think you have the like… core emotional wound he’s constructed around.

There’s also something here about fear of profound powerlessness specifically in situations where words, generally his strongest card that’s not a literal card (har har har oh we do have fun here), simply don’t work right at the moment when he needs them to the most – he tried to beg for his people not to leave him behind, he tried to convince Graves to get the hell out with the rest of the crew… and it didn’t work. (In Burning Tides you see he’s given up even trying to explain himself, he just wants Out in whatever way leaves both him and Graves tolerably in one piece, even if he won’t be understood or heard or less alone afterwards. It takes him until like half way through the entire chase to even THINK about just telling Graves the truth. In all fairness to T.F. it probably wouldn’t have worked at that moment, but it does vaguely crack me up that he didn’t even consider it until all of Bilgewater harbor was already burning merrily behind them fhsajkfa)

- He has a little bit of a (perfectly justified considering his background honestly) chip on his shoulder, especially when it comes to powerful or arrogant people. There seems to be a special satisfaction in outsmarting and robbing specifically rich assholes (which would also be the people who have the most to steal, so y’know good times all round). From his short stories and few places in his bio you almost get the feeling that he has a funny sort of Robin Hood-esque sense of lopsided justice about it. (Robin Hood-esque only so far as to define ‘the poor’ as the eternally hard-strapped ‘T.F. & Graves Waistcoats and Cigars Fund’, of course lol)

I think T.F. both has a mind that tends more towards analyzing the big picture and also has more direct experience with like… structural/systemic powerlessness and oppression. So the cons they pull are probably partly how he channels the emotions that arise out of that (and the rest he just represses, like the relatable guy he is haha)

- Graves being back would cause some IMMENSE internal conflict in him, I feel – of course all the feelings of relief and attachment and love, but also… so much of who he is now came about specifically to find a way to deal with Graves being gone, with seemingly just shutting down the entirety of his need for real human companionship or closeness for like a decade, things that are suddenly starting to be brought online again and must be tremendously stressful to deal with when you’ve had it completely suppressed and deadened for so long. He’s put so much into trying to be fundamentally unattached to anything, anywhere, anyone (and there are some things here about perpetually being an outsider his whole life that I can’t quite put into words, but that’s a dimension too.) That sort of psychological self defense mechanism doesn’t just contentedly nod its head and go away just because something good happened one time haha. Probably a work in progress there huh (at least he’s not alone in it now <3)

PLUS some bonus Graves POV observations because man. I love writing him, he’s just a marvel of a man

- I know I call him a dumbass all the time, but in a street smart way I think he’s actually quite clever haha, he just has a bad tendency to get hung up on an idea and get tunnel sight. (I’ve based this a lot on the short stories but see also more recently his Sentinel skin voice lines for good examples: he’s incredibly straightforward in that ‘well obviously if it doesn’t affect me personally I ain’t gonna give it that much thought’ way, but you also have glimpses of surprising insight/shrewdness and… I don’t quite know how to put it, but something like an ability to get to the bottom line of something without getting caught up in the details. (I suspect T.F. does find himself lost in the details quite frequently, he’s much more attached to the decorative curlicues of the world.) Graves clearly & frequently has no idea what’s going on, but he strips things down to the essentials very quick: Lucian’s story as a direct thematic mirror to Viego’s, Is There A Sun Lady – Oh, I See, all of this is weird and creepy and needs shooting, and maybe most crucial of all: Isolde doesn’t want to be with her husband anymore so what he’s doing is just like. Extra shitty. He gets what he needs to get and then just barges ahead heedlessly with that. Icon.)

- He’s actually pretty darn eloquent in a gruff sort of way and uses some quite sophisticated vocabulary! And the way this is contrasted with the tendency to slip into blunter coarser language just as readily -- like when he takes the time to describe the monster that takes down the Prince’s ship in such poetic terms as ‘gargantuan’ and ‘the behemoth’s immense, distended jaw’ and it having ‘pallid dead eyes the size of the moon’, and meanwhile during his swim at the beginning of the story we get bastard cold and bastard dark and full of bastard jellyfish and crabs – brings me such immense and unending delight

- He’s more eloquent in his internal voice than he is when speaking (especially noticeable in Destiny and Fate; he does have a tendency to fumble his words when talking lol), and he gets quite easily lost in his own meandering reflective musings in a way I find incredibly endearing. I’d almost call it whimsical at times, honestly, hilarious as that is? Like when he’s literally so absorbed in a line of thought he forgets which way they’re rowing and T.F. has to remind him. (I think T.F. generally has more of a grip of what’s going on around them than Graves does lol)

- There’s an important distinction to be made that Graves actually does, by and large, read T.F: very closely and seemingly also pretty damn accurately. He’s good at (and clearly very interested in) reading his moods, spotting what tactics he’s using interpersonally, when he’s being genuine and when he’s being dissembling.

What Graves is actually bad at is understanding his own emotions, and to not bleed those emotions into other people’s motivations and behavior, especially when he’s upset or in heightened states of feeling, like he is all the way through Burning Tides. He can only name his own feelings in a vocabulary of anger, when it’s pretty clear from the subtext that there’s a whole bunch of other stuff going on there, and he has incredible trouble divorcing those feelings from what other people’s got going on with them right then. He feels hurt, betrayed, and undone by everything that’s happened to him, so the intention to hurt, betray and undo must live in the other person who he feels caused it. In less drastic cases you see him do this a bit when he feels like T.F. is being evasive with him – taking it as a form of rejection rather than realizing T.F. is just lost in his own thoughts, sort of thing. There’s a real improvement in this one between Burning Tides and Destiny and Fate, though, so maybe he’ll have an easier time of it with some time and practice.

Sorry it took so long to get back to you on this and that it’s a bit of a rambling mess, words have been real hard recently. Or rather I have too many words, all the time, left and right, I just can’t put them into the right orders to make any sense hahaha, I hope there’s some useful point in this somewhere for you at least!

#hopefully this makes some kind of sense my brain is in... a state but it was actually really nice to just focus on some character analysis!#tf x graves #league of legends #twisted fate

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kweebtrash · 4 years

Text

Pay Attention, Dumbass

Pairing: Demon!Jaehyun x OC

Genre: Smut/ Comedy?? Maybe?

Features: demonic fingering

Summary: two idiot roommates accidentally summon two ancient demons. Forced into a contract, they only had two choices; die or make a deal with the devil. The most logical answer was to make them their boyfriends of course (this is lowkey a bad slice of life hentai, i swear). The demons know nothing about the human world and have to deal with “lessons” from their human girlfriends.

A/N: This used to be on my Kofi which im closing down and just putting everything up on here. This isnt continuing.

Masterlist Johnny Version Here

-----

"You haven't moved in hours. Don't you do anything else?"

I dug into the chip bag that laid on my desk and grabbed a handful to shove into my mouth. "Of course i do," I said through the mush of chips. "I went to the bathroom."

Jae sighed. "Not what i meant. Do you ever leave your room?"

I shrugged and downed some of my soda. "Yeah. I go to work sometimes."

"Where do you even work at?"

"A bar." I went back to clicking through attacks and swerving around opponents. "Guys, come on, come on, come on!" I said into the headphone and mic set i had on. "Someone head towards the point! At least start trying to take it over!"

"A bar?" He asked, confused. "What is that?"

"Its uh..." I drifted off as i propelled myself forward and released my ultimate attack, sending my mecha exploding in different directions. I quickly reloaded myself into the machine and continued my rampage of gunshots. "Like uh... drinks. Liquor."

"Libations?"

I snorted at the stupid word. "Yeah, whatever. That."

"And that's the only time you leave?" He continued asking.

"What the fuck is this? Twenty questions?" I grabbed another handful of chips. "On the left! Move out the way!" I grumbled at my friends who were playing online with me.

"I'm just curious since you don't have the capability to rid yourself of the sin of sloth."

I glared over at him as he was reclined back on my bed, arms behind his head, and torso on full display as he refused to wear a shirt (not that i was complaining). "I do things! I just like playing video games more! Sometimes i go to school too!"

"And what proof do you have of this because i never see it."

"My never ending debt and crippling anxiety." One of my online friends asked who i was talking too and i sucked my teeth. "My boyfriend is being annoying." Queue the kissy noises and jokes of the very mature men i gamed with.

"Oh? Im annoying?" Jae grumbled. "Whats really annoying is seeing you rot away while im forced to stay by your side. Hours and hours of boredom and still im trapped in the confines of this ridiculous home with nothing to do."

I set my headset down as the round finished and turned my desk chair towards him. "Are you upset that im not paying attention to you?"

He sat up quickly and scoffed. "Please. What do i need the attention of a human for?"

"You certainly want it when you're horny." I giggled. "Heh...horny...you have horns also so it's...anyway. Are you being a baby because you want attention?"

"I am not an infant. You are infuriating. Of course i had to get stuck with you."

"Oohhh, thats how it is. Yep, definitely being a baby, now with a temper tantrum."

Jae's eyes glowered and his claws dug into my mattress. "There are so many things i want to do to you right now."

"Ooh daddy." I snorted and put my headset back on. "Sounds kinky."

"Which is it? Am i an infant or a father?! I dont understand!"

I sighed and stood up. "Do you want to try playing with me?" I gestured at the now vacant spot of my gaming chair.

Jae stared at me then the seat. "Play that ridiculous thing?"

"Yeah," i shrugged and looked down at my feet. "It's something i like to do and you're my boyfriend sooo...i guess...i mean..." I twiddled with my thumbs as my cheeks began to warm up. "It'd be cool if you tried to like some of the stuff i do."

"Is that what boyfriends do?"

"Y-yeah...sorta. Look do you want to or not?" I huffed in frustration.

He stood up and made his way over, glaring down at me with his humanized yet still terrifying eyes. "Fine. I will try it."

I couldn't help the dorky smile that beamed across my face. "Ok, cool. Sit down."

He placed himself in the seat and i sat on his lap then scooted the chair closer to the desk. I positioned his fingers on the designated keys for offense and defense as well as the computer mouse. "Here, why don't i just guide your fingers the first few rounds so you get the hang of it?"

"Whatever."

The smile started to fade as i covered his hands with mine that seemed to dwarf in comparison. "Put your stupid claws away. You cant game right with your pretty manicure."

He growled like an irritated dog and slid the claws back into his skin. With his back pressed to mine, he ended up resting his chin on my shoulder, watching as i joined a new round. His somewhat chubby cheek felt warm against mine and i willed myself not to kiss it. It wasn't like he was going to respond anyway. He was cold hearted in every sense of the word, even when he fucked it almost seemed like a chore. It still was amazing and i loved every second of it but the distant feelings was strong. Of course it wasn't a great idea to make a demon your damn boyfriend but there was rarely a time where i made a smart decision.

Deciding to suck it up and just concentrate i pressed Jae's fingers down as i helped launch attacks and maneuver us around the screen. "This is nothing but hectic destruction " he commented.

"Yep, pretty much."

"And you enjoy this?"

"Absolutely."

"I am pleased by this." I felt a slight nip at my neck as he purred into my ear. "Very pleased."

"Pleased that i like shooting people and destroying things?"

"Exactly. Its quite...sexy."

"Oh my god. You're a dork!" I snorted. "Its just a damn game, weirdo." I pressed his fingers down harder, not wanting to slow down and ruin my winning streak. "Keep up."

"Well when you're crushing my fingers its hard to do so."

"Just follow me. You dont even have to move them."

"I would like to move them but-"

"Shh, give me a sec. Bastards are on my fucking ass! God i hate when they just gang up on you for no FUCKING REASON!" I screamed at the monitor. "Such dicks. Fuckin' dicks."

"Your mouth is filthy."

"Yeah you said that when it was full of cum too."

"Hm...that was also enjoyable." Another nip to my neck, this time followed by small sucks and kisses. "Continue using your filthy mouth and destroying things. This at least is semi entertaining now."

"Glad you think so. Quit kissing my neck, its distracting."

"Distracting?! You enjoy that! You said it this morning. Specifically 'Jae'," He faked a slightly high pitched moan. "'Keep kissing my neck, oh god'."

I flushed with embarrassment and rammed my elbow into his chest. "I already have to deal with dicks online i dont need go deal with you too."

"I suppose you wouldn't want to deal with this then?"

I felt him press his hips against my ass. The grey sweatpants he had on left nothing to the imagination and i swallowed hard as my concentration wavered. "S-stop." I whimpered.

"I dont think i will." One hand left the mouse and pressed against my stomach to keep me in place. "Support that. I will control these buttons."

I pressed my lips together and simply nodded. How he had the grace to continue slight grinds against me i didn't know but i was responding to them eagerly. I arched my back and wiggled my ass every time he rolled forward, creating a sinful friction between us. My eyes drifted from the screen momentarily to see that his fingers were working perfectly over the keys as if he had played for years. "You're...actually winning."

"What? As if its hard?" He tsked. "Humans have simple minds and-WHY IS THIS MAN PUNCHING ME FROM THE SKY?"

I froze our sensual movements to cackle loudly. "That's just Doomfist. He's so OP and stupid."

"OP?"

"Overpowered, meaning there's no reason for him to even be here."

"Im going to destroy him completely until he can never return."

"They all respawn, Jae. That's how the game continues."

"Not if I can help it. I want that mongrel dead. Get that clicky thing ready. I'm aiming to destroy."

"You think I'm sexy when I want to kill things but I think you're cute, you know that?" I turned towards him to press a kiss to his cheek yet my lips connected with his when he moved.

"I am not cute....but you are...or whatever." I wondered if that tint on his cheeks was real or just my imagination.

I smiled to myself anyway, pleased with his compliment and his valiant effort to enjoy the same things I did. He was truly acting like a boyfriend-one that felt genuine even if he crawled up from hell. Just before, he was complaining about how never moved but we stayed like this for a couple more hours, even sharing snacks and competing with my online friends. There came a point in the night, though, when searching for a server with an open game slowed tremendously. Minutes ticked by and still nothing. Jae's drumming of his fingers against the wooden desk in impatience was starting to drive me crazy. "Doing that isn't going to make it go faster, you know."

"This is about as interesting as watching you play on that small screen."

"We've gone over this. Its a phone, a cell phone, a portable phone."

"Yes, yes. That stupid thing with all the colors. Its like this stupid thing." He pointed at the computer screen. "Only smaller."

"You seem to enjoy the big stupid thing judging by how many kill streaks you got."

His lips tweaked into a smirk. "That's because im an expert killer. None of them deserved to live."

"You did get my rank up and some loot boxes so i guess i should thank you."

"Yes, bask in my glory and show me how grateful you are." His hand that had remained around my waist for most of our play time started creeping its way to my thighs.

"Are you wanting me to show you how grateful i am or are you trying to show me how desperate you are?" I snickered.

"I am not desperate. Since the stupid game is not cooperating im just trying to inject some extra curricular activities."

"Such as?"

He set his head on my shoulder again and i felt his fangs dig in deeper into my neck, making me let out a drawn out whine. "J-jae!"

He chuckled from deep within his throat as i felt his tongue trail from the column of my neck up to my earlobe. "Such as...watching you squirm when i add the slightest of pressure," Two of his fingers slid between the junction of my thighs and pressed firmly against the center of my shorts. "Here."

The tips of his fingers began gliding against the fabric, the soft cotton adding the smallest amount of friction against my clit. My teeth sunk into my bottom lip as my leg began to bounce. I wanted to wait for a new game, my win streak was too precious to me but Jae was something else. Trying not to make it too obvious i adjusted myself on his lap, spreading my legs a little wider. His fingers garnered more room but he didnt move them under the fabric. Instead he kept torturing me with slow movements, occasionally pushing into the most sensitive areas. "Who's enjoying the attention now?" He teased.

Suddenly a little ping from my computer signaled that a game had finally been found. My attention quickly shifted and i put my headset back on and got into position. Jae reeled back in confusion. "Are you really going to continue to play?"

"Well...yeah. I mean it took forever to get into this game. I dont wanna lose it."

"Hey, can you be healer?" I heard my friend say into my ear piece.

"Fuck you! Im not going to be healer! You be healer, you twat waffle!"

Jae let out a heavy and annoyed sigh. I almost felt bad until i was lagging behind everyone else. I had to-

I felt his finger finally move beneath my shorts and press into my hole gently. I had to admit that he had already gotten me worked up enough to provide him with some lubrication and he slid in easily. "C-cut it out." I stammered.

"Oh no, dont mind me. Your game is more important. Keep going."

"I just mean-ah-ahh!" I tried to snap my mouth shut before my moan slipped out for fear of my friends hearing but it was too late. Jae had moved the seat of my shorts aside and pumped his finger faster, occasionally curling it an inch or two from my entrance. I covered the mic part of the headset and glared back at him. "If you dont s-stop-"

I snapped my thighs shut as he added another finger, the 'come here' motions growing stronger. Immediately, he landed a harsh tap to my outer thigh, a small growl floating in the tense air around us. "I said keep going."

"Well i would if you just-HEY! MOTHERFUCKER! I LIKED THESE SHORTS!" I looked down at the center of my shorts that had now been torn open because of his reappearing claws. "What's wrong with you?!"

Without a word he grabbed onto my ankles and set my legs up on the desk, keeping them spread. The clawed hand snaked its way to my throat and with the slightest pressure i could feel them digging in. It wasn't enough to hurt but certainly enough to make my entire body shudder with electricity. "I-i cant reach the keyboard." I whispered.

He scooted the chair closer to the desk, making my legs almost rest on it fully. "Wheres that tappy thing you have?"

"Tappy thing?"

"Where you move the sticks."

"You mean a controller?"

"You can plug it in right?" He questioned as his thrusting resumed which made my mind mush in a second.

"U-uh yeah-um its uh...d-draw-drawer!"

He let my throat go and allowed me to reach into my desk drawer and grab my gaming controller. I plugged it into my computer's usb port as my friends argued about me not pulling my weight and being static. I lied about my game lagging and shifted the mic up so i sounded muffled and they wouldn't be able to hear how much if a slut Jae made me. "There. Now you can play. Keep up that win streak. Have to get the gold and boxes, right? Have to play with your friends and ignore me, right?" He nipped at my ear as his fingers slipped out of me to rub circles against my clit. "Have to beg me to let you cum, right?

"P-please dont make me do that!"

"See? You're begging already. What a good girl you are."

My entire body tensed at those two words and i let my controller go for a moment to grab his hand and press his fingers back into me. "Keep going. I want you to keep going."

"I could but i dont have to. Maybe i can use the tappy thingy instead. More people I can kill." He jerked his fingers away and pushed them against my lips. "Clean these off for me. Dont want to get it dirty, do i?"

"Jaaaeeeee," i whined and leaned in for a kiss but he turned his head away.

"Clean. Them."

Reluctantly, i swallowed his fingers down, lapping between and tasting myself. He tested my gag reflex by moving them to the back of my throat but pulling away when it became to much. It was nothing but entertainment for him, a game of cat and mouse that made me feel doomed. "You know you love being inside me." I panted as my mouth was now freed. "I can ride-"

"Oh, how unfortunate. You died. Now we have to wait to return. You're too distracted, Ivy. A shame, truly."

I didn't care anymore. In the few seconds i had between my respawning i stood up and turned towards him, pulling his sweatpants down to stay around his knees. He had no qualms about his erection. I had felt it, of course, but it was like he paid it no mind, like it wasn't an inconvenience and he enjoyed teasing me instead. Was it another way to give me a taste of my own medicine? What a bastard! "Come here." I tried to sound as sultry as possible but he just laughed and took the controller from me.

"Lets see if i can figure this out now." Jae looked at the buttons and pressed at a few before moving the joy sticks to test them out. "Strange but i believe I can-"

It was my turn to cut him off. I lifted his head and focused on his eyes, angered by the smirk still on his lips. "Fuck me."

"Nope."

That wasn't the answer i wanted.

He craned his head to the side to look at the monitor. "Can you move? Im trying to play here."

"Shut up! You didn't even care about playing before!" I pouted as my cheeks flushed both in annoyance and embarrassment. I sat back on his lap anyway, chest to chest, and guided him inside me. Not a sound from him or even a look. He was focused on fighting now which made me want to punch him but i figured if i fucked myself on him long enough i could break his resolve. I gripped onto the back of the chair and started working up and down his length, adding kisses to his neck in between whimpers. "Jae...come on..."

"Ooh, double kill."

"I swear to god! If you dont-"

"No god, just demons."

"Yeah, you're acting like a demon. A demon asshole who wont even pay attention to his girlfriend! I cant believe you're doing this!"

He finally looked at me, dead in the eyes and it made me nervous. "It doesn't feel good, does it?"

Ok, ok. So i had learned my lesson. It was a two way street and maayybeee i wasn't being the best partner but i never figured he wanted anything from me. He never expressed a lot if affection or wonderment at what i did throughout my day. How was i supposed to know? I guess with his lack of knowledge about human things he truly had nothing to do unless i was guiding him. Fuck, now i really felt bad. What a buzzkill. "Im sorry...i understand how you feel now. I didn't think you cared. I know were just together because of the contract. I thought you still hated humans and didn't want to exist beside them."

"I do hate humans but you're my human now. Unfortunately, i have to rely on you and its maddening to be stuck here. In hell i did hundreds of things. I had a job. I had meetings with other demons. I planned wars, participated in real battles, created weapons. I was someone. Here, im nothing but a prisoner."

"Nonono! Please dont feel like that...i dont want to make you feel like that. Please..." I felt my eyes watering and i quickly buried my face in the crook of his neck. He sighed and tossed the controller on the table and shut my laptop. He kicked off the rest of his pants and with ease picked me up and led me to the bed.

"Dont ever speak of this. Not to Johnny, not to Xan. No one, understand?"

I nodded quickly as my back hit the mattress and he stayed above me. "You will do what i say just as much as im forced to do as you say. Love me unconditionally. Break me free from this world and show me why i shouldn't kill everyone in it."

I swallowed hard and nodded again. "I promise. I promise you everything."

"Good. Secondly...i would like to do battle against you in those games."

I couldn't help the giggle i let out. I didn't expect him to say something like that after being so serious. "Oh? You think you can beat me?"

"Im a strategist and a warrior. Of course i can."

"Oh, ok. You play a few rounds of Overwatch and suddenly you're the master. Just dont say anything when i kick your ass, bitch."

He chuckled deeply and snapped his hips without warning. He had still remained inside me and the sudden movement made me cry out loud. "Bring it on then. We'll see who's the better warrior here. Now," his eyes shifted into pure darkness and his fangs glistened with temptation. "Lets see how fast you can give in."

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crazygaysex · 3 years

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incomprehensible conjecture and rambling about sunny/rcg under the cut! idk man I got 1 hour of sleep in the past 24 or wataver and my brain is an abandoned swamp Good Nigte

i certainly am not arguing that mac Absolutely Isnt a stereotype of a predatory gay man/self-hating homophobe or whatevr. i wont argue the homophobe one at all really,not great even if they rectified it and further tried to make up for it or whatever w mac finds his pride (which i love, regardless). but honestly i dont think the predatory complaint really makes a whole lot of legitimate sense considering every charatcer on the show is Extremely predatory in their own right. if he wasnt i’d be irritated to be honest. i do agree w wat mcelhenney said something like that its cool that they decided to acknowledge he was gay without changing him fundamentally as a person; he still needs to fit into the show or watever. like idk he’s not Ideal Gay Rep ofc but he’s awesome still. To Me. I like when character’s sexuality can be an improtant acknowledged facet of them but doesnt overtake the rest of te narrative! It never occurred to me that his behavior toward dennis would be seen as predatory ina stereotypical way seeing as how their relationship dynamic is so fckign bizarre. charlie has the same level of dogged cluelessness about the obj of his affection’s true feelings, so it didnt occur to me to see mac touching dennis’ knee or stuff of that variety as being any different ig or as making fun of queers or watevr. if i am wrong/misunderstanding i apologize. i have never considered mac from that perspective before.

honestly i kinda get the complaints. i’ve never rly thought rcg all have 10000% pure intentions with the insensitive kind of humor they are into, no matter their loophole justifications for shit. sometimes i almost believe their reasoning and do basically understand but it still seems flimsy when you considers stuff like the blackface stuff which is indeed kind of funny at times mainly bc the joke is the absurdity of it all, like mac in the shower with the brown dripping off him like he’s melting; it’s not funny at the expense of black ppl but more so at the expense of how goddam stupid and unaware mac is. i havent seen the blackface/brownface ones in years sos i dont have a whole lot to say excepe they seemed to be clearly against using blackface as the moral while still using it to get laughs. so. really honestly i don’t know that it’s Liderally Ever edgy white people’s call to use something like blackface regardless of context, regardless of their obvious intent? i dunno i have tried to find Black ppls opinions online a couple times but struggled to find any tangible results. the only other thing i have to say with ym white person words is that i think it’s stupid that the streamig companies take down all insensitive episodes like theyre trying to brush them under the rug and pretend it never happened in wake of a changing political climate. i get it, but kinda just seems like corporate scrambling ie disney getting ridof all of song of the south but still profiting from splash mountain eprhaps. something seems dodgy to me about pretending it doesnt exist anymore just to cover their asses. i understand the sentiment i guess but i dont think that’s really the main goal of the BLM movement, to purge streaming services of any questionable/racially insensitive/Fully Racist material; there’s surely more important things at the top of the lists besids Good Branding . im not sure if that makes sense

also a lot of episodes the joke is the blatant but somehow woefully oblivious homoerotic overtones present between the guys, like a Lot of the time. it is very funny though is the thing and a lot of thm are my favorites. i dunno. i also thought hte pooping transgender bit was pretty funny mainly cause it was absurd. i think maybe because i have my own what i think are reaosnable and empathetic views about certain stuff like queer shit it doesnt necessarily occur to me that they are trying to make fun of queer people.. like people make fun of conservative fans for having completely missed the point of it all being satire, and wat if i am being tricked to into assuming rcg has kind intentions and isnt trying to make fun of queer people just cause the thought didnt occur to me? instead of taking all the gay subtext serious- WHICh i Do, i should probably be more aware that to rcg it is just a bit and not really that deep. but mac and dennis were totally fucjing in s5 canonically. anwyays like aside from the carmen shit which is handled So Fuckign Bad and it makes me so upset cause i actually love carmen they were just very clearly not bothered with actually representing trans people accurately. so in the bathroom one if even fuckin dee reynolds is like, saying a trans woman in a woman’s bathroom is obviously normal.. it seems like they’d rectified some of their previous Very flawed rhetoric surrounding trans women (ie the whole “u slept with me when i was still a man” line. makes me cringe a bit ebery time)u get wat i mean?? not that it atones for it obviously. i love carmen she desreved better

butreallt i dont have any like. Pure Faith in rcg to be super accountable or honest about their intentions or to have the most accurate or agreeable beliefs or whataver. theyre just fucking about really because they can without any lashback. and people i think like being able to laugh at offensive shit thru scenarios which supposedly distance you from bigots/evil people and make u feel better about yourself watching these dumbass evil people talk slime. when like. glenn yelling supposedly arabic-sounding gibberish for example: it is funny in this context not just cause it’s wildly inappropriate and absurd but also because there’s prob significant amt of people who actually dont have an issue with it who could watch it and not have that takeaway whatsoever. i dont kno wt im talking about anymore btu honestly if youre trying to watch a show that isnt rife throughout with controversial/offensive/insensitive language and story beats, i dont know why you would try to stomach it with sunny. like for gods sake they used blackface more than once! i dunno man

#x #iasip #i need to go to slepep now

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sinkix · 4 years

Text

♡ Haikyuu!!│Boys as your Roommate HC’s Pt.2│Ft. Kuroo, Bokuto, Kenma & Kageyama ♡

Since the last one did well I decided to do another 2am shit-post consisting of my bby HQ bois as your roommate so I’m v sorry if it’s messy and seems like rambling but honestly what did u expect. <(￣︶￣)> The more I write these the more I just want to summon satan and make them come to life man I love them sm.

You can find Pt. 1 here

E N J O Y ~ <3

◃:✮.❃⭒ ◃:✮.❃⭒ ◃:✮.❃⭒ ◃:✮.❃⭒

Kuroo:

So. Damn. Annoying

But in like, the best way possible??

Constantly teases and irritates you while cooking or when it’s your turn to do the chores.

“(Y/N)-kuuun I think you missed a spot”

Proceeds to show swabbed finger with the tiniest speck of dust on it with the biggest shit eating grin he can muster

You have constant competitions who can clean more thoroughly and rip into each other as a result.

I mean there’s worse things to compete over I suppose??

He likes to make it a habit of waking you up by throwing his HUGE ASS BODY ON TO THE BED IF YOU OVERSLEEP.

WHOLE BED JUST CREAKS AND DIPS UNDER HIS WEIGHT.

Wraps his arm around you and gives amazing cuddles tho so its worth it

Borderline suffocating you though just so you get up.

Also, don’t wake Kuroo when he’s had only a few hours rest

just, don’t. If you value your safety.

Last time you tried to haul him out of bed in this state he threw a pillow at you and BITCH WENT TO GRAB THE ALARM CLOCK NEXT but u dashed out the room before he could lob it.

Speaking of which, pillow fights.

so many.

Y’all are always throwing random stuff at each other just to startle one another

You both make a conscious effort NOT to aim for the head though so I guess its ok???

The aroma of coffee always greets you in the morning and it’s become hella comforting since you’ve just come to associate that smell with him.

His bed head is 1000x more extreme in the morning which you tease him relentlessly for and def has bags under his eyes but it looks cute.

sleep deprivation but make it chic.

He is much more of a night owl i’m making it canon idc - however usually has to sleep early due to club activities starting first thing in the morning.

He wakes up especially early because he knows he not only has to haul himself up at an ungodly hour but Kenma as well since he NEVER gets up on time otherwise.

Kenma lives a few blocks down from you guys and you often kick it as a three.

Sometimes he stays over just to save the extra effort of Kuroo going to his place.

It’s always v chill with the three of you as you get on really well and just play mario kart till 2am.

which again, big mistake. They end up nearly being late to practise so it’s kinda counter productive lmao

worth it though.

Kuroo is a salty loser js and will definitely wave his arms in front of you or shove his ass in your face to block the screen so he can overtake you.

Sometimes forces you to go on early morning runs with him but it’s actually really nice since you watch the sunrise together while sitting for a water break in an empty field

Almost poetic if it wasn’t for the constant teasing and bickering like an old married couple.

Kenma is VERY thankful you have become his new victim for those morning run routines.

Bokuto:

SCREAMS FROM THE ROOFTOPS EVERY DAY

MY GOD

Actually pretty quiet in the morning?? Like the lil owl is just waking up so he usually just mumbles a good-morning and rubs his eyes its so damn cute

Usually pretty good about getting up on time but some days he needs a kick up the backside to get him out of bed.

He fully made you drag him out of the covers once before he was even willing to entertain the idea of getting up.

those 30 seconds felt like a 30 minute workout since he is so HEAVY.

I feel sorry for the neighbours on that day tbh

“Bokuto-san wake up.”

“NNNgg-aaagGGHHHHH AGGAAASHIII”

“It’s (Y/N) you dumbass G E T U P”

You aren’t safe for long though because ONCE HE’S AWAKE HOMEBOY IS RARING TO GO.

Frequently makes y’all pancakes for breakfast with a frilly pink ‘best chef’ apron on and it’s fucking hysterical.

actually has several aprons and one of them has a stock image of abs printed onto the front.

Pancakes is the only thing Bokuto is competent at so don’t expect anything else without the kitchen combusting

His pancakes are SO damn good tho like bitch who taught you to flip like dat.

Does a lil shimmy with his body and throws it back each time he flips so it basically aggregates as a performance too since hes so extra

One time the pancake landed on the floor and he was in emo mode for a whole day LMAOOO

boy was spiking while mourning the fallen soldier.

Akaashi was so confused as to why he walked into practise in such a solemn mood.

had to stifle his laughter once you told him the reason.

For some reason you have this tradition to play board games on a Friday night

Obvs you have to let him win and be a cocky ass bc otherwise he will be sad until the next morning.

sis will be in a slump while brushing his teeth over losing a game of monopoly.

Doesn’t expect you to come to practise with him but is always grinning like a dork the whole way there when you accompany him.

His game is always A1 on those days so Akaashi is eternally grateful.

Often tries to make you go to the gym with him SINCE Y’ALL BEST BELIEVE BOKUTO BABY AIN’T SKIPPIN LEG DAY.

Actually a really good workout partner though, he’s so hype and encouraging.

Grocery shopping is a nightmare, y’all come back with 3x as much as what was on the list while Bokuto just looks really sheepish and guilty like a dog who shredded up the sofa.

Kageyama:

Your conversations are very minimal at first until he adjusts to living with you.

Hella private with his living space and his bedroom

You always suspected he’s got some like weird alien cult meeting from Fiji going on in there with how shady he acts sometimes.

After a while though he’s pretty chill and doesn’t mind TOO much when you invade his personal space or go through his stuff.

I’d still be careful though an angry Kags is not a pleasant one.

He’s a minimalist, so if you ever get decorating done it’s usually you that takes the reigns since as long as it’s got a roof, a stove, a bathroom and a bed he could literally not give a fuck.

Unexpectedly easy to please over the smallest things, make a meal for him after a long day of practise and it’ll be hard for him to contain an appreciative smile.

Do NOT pull him up on it though bc he will get defensive

just embrace it bro you won’t see it often.

V good at getting up on time and hella quiet in the morning when going about his routine, it’s easy to forget he’s in the house a times so at least he’s considerate.

Honestly doesn’t care whether you come to practise or not it makes no difference to him. Though the closer you both get he will sometimes wait for the moment you walk through the door and mentally slap himself for doing so.

Sometimes plays music in his room but it’s always really quiet and hard to decipher unless you press your ear up against the door.

The boi plays some BOPS though which is really surprising???

Usually takes charge of stuff like grocery shopping, cleaning etc.

Control freak™️ here to assist your household services.

He’s pretty dense though with these matters and needs some guidance at times lmao

Will not get the item on your list unless you CLEARLY SPECIFY AND INCLUDE THE WHOLE DAMN TITLE OF THE ITEM

You’re surprised he doesn’t request you illustrate the fucking bar code.

In the end you sometimes end up caving and just either going with him or going in his place.

Once he warms up to you y’all like cracking little jokes at each other and pulling one another’s leg.

if you get up even the slightest bit late he’ll just throw a lil “good afternoon” with a smirk on his face.

Sometimes he will come and chill with you on the couch to binge watch shows and it’s just a really relaxed atmosphere.

has really good taste in movies and series??

Honestly just a hella respectful roommate as long as you respect him and his privacy in return.

You once stuck his knee-pads in the washing machine on a high temp and they came out ready to fit a 6 year old.

You still suspect he holds a grudge to this day.

He also tried to give them to Hinata and never have you seen him more genuinely offended lmao.

Kenma:

The pair of you always end up oversleeping and it’s a genuine problem ur the definition of a disaster duo.

If it wasn’t for Kuroo strolling into your sleeping quarters most mornings you guys would sleep till the suns ready to set again.

Bless up Kuroo.

Constant video game marathons and y’all always compete to top each others time

It’s basically just the speed-run side of YouTube but under one roof.

Cannot and will not cook he is too LAZY for that.

Only thing he will do is stick an apple pie in the oven.

He’s courteous though he leaves you like,,, a 1/8th slice

smh.

You mostly get take-out or you’re the one that ends up cooking.

Veeryyyyy quiet, only noise in the household is the occasional snicker or lil conversation.

he has such a soothing voice hnnnnnnnnnggggg

The only time it’s remotely loud is when you play video games but even then the volume is quite low.

You usually end up crashing in his room from playing games till the crack of dawn and Kuroo frequently scolds the two of you.

you don’t listen though lmao.

For some reason you both end up in a hugging position when you wake up and neither of you have addressed it.

Except for the sus side eye look Kuroo gives the pair of you when he finds you like this.

He knows if he mentions it you’ll both infiltrate his apartment and choke him out with a console cable lololol.

You order most of your groceries online bc Kenma’s social anxiety will skyrocket and not allow him to be in a store full of more than 10 people, poor bby.

It works out for you too since why tf go there when you can have it delivered to your door.

You often binge watch anime together and he has GREAT taste mind you.

You made him watch a romance anime once and he secretly enjoyed it.

Since then he will very awkwardly request to watch them occasionally and you can’t help but smile.

The only time you clean is when you have to, like bins brimming with trash before you decide to take them out.

You accidentally broke his fav controller once and he didn’t talk to you for a week LMAO.

Still handed you one to play split-screen though so you knew he wasn’t entirely resentful.

#hq #haikyuu #hq headcanons #haikyuu headcanons #kenma kozume #kageyama tobio #kuroo tetsurō #bokuto kotaro #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #karasuno #nekoma #fukurodani

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soulwillower · 4 years

Text

if you’re too shy • richie tozier

(richie tozier x cam girl!reader smut)

[based off the song if you’re too shy (let me know) by the 1975.]

requested: i can't find it lol BUT 🤍anon (i think) requested a fic based off of the 1975′s new song, if you’re too shy let me know !!

warnings: swearing, alcohol use, switch!richie kinda, smut, unprotected sex, a tiny bit of cumplay i guess, mentions of phone sex, oral sex (female receiving), face sitting, a bit of dirty talking, UNEDITED as always

also i wrote this in a different style than usual and idk if i like it much but u can let me know what u guys think,, if its weird i can go in and change the povs since its 3rd person richie

[losers + reader are 21+ in this.]

7.4k words lol

♡

i see her online all the time i'm trying not to stare down there while she talks about her tough time

"h-hey, man, who's that?" the voice from right next to richie makes him damn near leap out of his seat. it makes beverly chuckle a bit as she takes a bite of her apple, shaking her head. "it’s nobody." richie says quickly as he tilts his phone towards his chest and shoots a toothy grin to bill. his friend raises his full eyebrows, "wh-what, so n-nobody was sending you n-nudes?"

"something like that." richie mutters, stomach fluttering as the image flashes in his mind’s eye - the curves, the dark red lace, the plush skin painting a perfect scene in richie’s vivid imagination.

richie looks back down at the photo. his his thumbs hover over the profile picture; he'd found her originally on his instagram explore page, the photos teasing and immediately he had to know more. y/n.

and then a few days later, he'd subscribed to her only fans, which he never quite thought he'd do with anyone, but he couldn't help it. she was so enticing, so perfect and so alluring. it was the playfulness that pulled him in; and he swears he's never lusted after somebody like he has with her. it was kind of starting to freak him out.

"is that o-onlyfans?" bill says and richie shoves bill's nosy face off his shoulder with a panicked grunt. "fuck off, mushmouth."

bill laughs and stan and bev perk up from across the table, staring at the two, interests suddenly piqued. "did you subscribe to a girl's onlyfans, rich?" stan says with a grin, setting his pen down on his notebook.

richie just smirks and wiggles his brows a bit, enough to confirm his question. bill chuckles from next to richie.

"let me see." bev says, wiggling her manicured nails in a "gimme" motion. richie hands his phone over with red cheeks. normally he wouldn't care about his friends discovering he's paid money just to see a hot chick's bod, but this was different. for some reason, he felt connected to her. god, that thought made him want to slam his head against a brick wall. she doesn't even know him, for all he knows she could live in the middle of.... montana, or like, ohio.

bev whistles and stan nods, "if i looked like that," bev mumbles as she tosses richie's phone back towards him, "i'd do that too. mad props."

noises of agreement fill the table but richie's just looking at the small smirk that peeks from the corner of one of the photos and he can't help but wonder what her eyes are like in real life. he wishes he could meet her.

girl of your dreams, you know what i mean there's something 'bout her stare that makes you nervous and you say things that you don't mean

it's a cold day when bill and richie find themselves stumbling in to the coffee shop for a drink. bill's muttering about some girl in his creative writing class that gave him head when richie's eyes catch a figure so familiar yet foreign that he stops dead in his tracks. bill turns to him, face confused. "r-richie, what's wrong w-with you?"

richie shakes his head, stammering in disbelief, "that-that's her, bill. the girl, from onlyfans. y/n." he whispers, gesturing with his eyes towards the girl working the register.

bill’s jaw goes slack, green eyes raking over her form and igniting richie’s stomach with boiling rage. as if bill’s doing something that only richie is allowed to do – as if they're not both being total creeps.

“h-holy sh-shit. she’s b-beautiful.” bill mumbles. richie elbows him in the ribs, shooting him a glare that prompts an eye-roll from his auburn haired friend.

richie swallows and watches, his throat feeling like sandpaper as she laughs at something the customer in front of them said. bill nudges richie, "i-i'm gonna get a s-seat. t-talk to her."

he winks and grins as he walks away, leaving richie with his reckless self. he thinks he's sweating through his sweater as he walks up, finding himself face-to-face with her. "hi, how can i help you?" she asks, giving him a smile

holyshitholyshitholyshit.

he might've just came right then and there. okay, he's gotta say something cool, something smooth. don't be a dumbass, tozier.

"howdy, sugar. i'll have my coffee like i like my women." his mouth blurts as his brain sirens go off, PUT ON THE BRAKES, RICH – "a hot shock to the lap.”

she glares at him, cheeks light pink and eyebrows pulled together in annoyance and yep, richie's probably going to get hard because of that look but he's also probably going to toss his body off a bridge because what the fuck, tozier?

he can hear bill laughing quietly from a ways away and he quickly shakes his head, muttering quietly, "jail. jail, richard."

"funny." she deadpans, clearly not amused. because of course she isn't.

"sorry, i'll have a black coffee, y/n." he mutters, eyes widening to himself when he realizes she was not wearing a goddamn name tag and he just said her name.

this is a disaster. she gives him a bewildered, slightly creeped out look and if richie wasn't panicking, he'd gape at how she still managed to be effortlessly gorgeous even now.

he sighs, shaking his head, the door of the cafe opening and blowing a gust of frigid air through the warm room. fitting - douche chill.

"look, toots, i don't want this to be weird. i- um, i recognize you." he says, cheeks aflame. she raises a brow, face straight for a few moments, unsure what he means.

it's not long after when recognition flashes over her own face - must have ruled out coffee shop, university and her local gym - and she nods with a tight, almost uncomfortable smile.

he tries not to think of the livestream he watched last night where she showed all her new gifts and modeled lingerie, and how he’d spent his time to himself with his left hand immediately after watching. his cheeks are red with shame.

"okay." is all she says, writing down a scribbled order on the coffee cup. her eyes shoot back up and give richie a once-over that really makes his fingers itch - god, why did he have to be this way?

he almost runs his fingers through his curls but decides against it, eyes opting to focus on her own gorgeous eyes as they meet him. "i'm impressed i have a fan who looks like you, i must say. even if you are a complete jack ass." she purrs and his jaw nearly smacks the floor at its velocity as it flies open.

"what's that supposed to mean?" he asks then with a small grin, flattered at the tiniest of compliments that just barely, in his mind, eclipsed the insult that he so very much deserved.

"i'm saying you're kind of a dick. it's too bad, because you're real cute." she says casually, handing him his change. his stomach flips and butterflies release in his chest, a feeling that he's not felt in almost five years.

but damn, of course he messed up - he got the chance to talk to the hottest girl on earth and he started it by saying an awful joke that wasn't funny at all. of course she though he was a dick, he is one.

he's shocked, though, as he waits for his coffee with bill, who is still snickering into his hand every few moments, to find his coffee cup with extra sharpie scribbled on the white paper. a name.

y/n. and below it is a phone number with a small heart scribbled, and richie can't tell if it's a seven or a one but he figures he'd try every phone number in the damn state if it meant he could fucking text her. holy fuck.

"maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes i'm not playing with you, baby i think that you should give it a go" she said, "maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes i wanna see, and stop thinking if you're too shy, then let me too shy, then let me know"

he didn't text her for two days and three hours. yes, he counted it. no, he won't think about why he was obsessing over the numbers - but since the time he'd finally had found the courage to text her today, things have escalated proficiently.

she'd just mentioned how hot it was in her apartment since her heater had gone haywire - even though the winter winds were cold, she'd claimed she was burning up in what she was wearing.

and the mere mention of her clothing had sent richie into somewhat of a spiral, spending at least seven minutes glued to his phone and scrolling through the saved album he had of those photos of her that she'd posted; his sweatpants getting increasingly tight and his palm suddenly aching to slip through the fabric and find some release.

but, in true trashmouth fashion, he apparently needed that sweet, sweet rejection from a hot cam girl he'd somehow weaseled into getting the number of in order to wank off properly, so he types out a text and hits send immediately.

what are you wearing?

and then he almost vomits in embarrassment – what was she going to think? did he just royally fuck up? oh god, he’s going to have to shave his head and move to canada.

his phone buzzes and he nearly passes out when he lays his eyes upon the image attached – there her body is again, curvy and full and beautiful, her skin glowing in the fading light of what he assumes is her bedroom. and with it:

this. what are you wearing, rich?

and then he pulls his gaze from his phone and stands, breathing heavily because holy shit.

he's gotten nudes before, but.... none from someone like her. holy shit.

he walks to his bathroom, splashing water on his beet-red cheeks. he swallows, staring at himself in the mirror. fuck.

he slaps his cheek once, then winking at himself in attempt to muster any sliver of confidence. and then he snaps a picture, only in his boxers.

and then he has to physically refrain from making a joke about wearing the same lingerie set as her, instead sending a flirty text that he knows any other woman would blush at. he just doesn’t know with y/n, and maybe that’s why he loves it so much. she's keeping him on his toes.

you like what you see?

he sends that one afterwards, shaking his head because oh my god, she's going to respond with "no" and then bill him $40 for the nude she sent him. not that he wouldn't pay, but...

his phone dings and he nearly breaks an ankle running to his desk.

yeah, i do. but maybe i'd like you better without any clothes on.

he almost yells out loud at this, but he has a feeling that waking up stan in the middle of the night would not be optimal after their 'roommate agreement' they'd made that explicitly states richie cannot scream between 1am - 9am. so instead he smirks to himself, face turning red.

he's getting harder by the moment, and as he stares at that picture she'd sent earlier, he lets out a breathy groan. the lace....

we could face time yk

or we don't have to.

he reads her words in live time, watching the thought bubble appear again and watching it like a hawk. he can just imagine her sitting there with a small smirk as another text comes in and he almost groans as his dick twitches.

like, if you're too shy or something ;)

he stares at the screen for two seconds at that sinful photo she'd sent just before those texts and then sighs, shaking his head and pressing the green face-time call button.

i've been wearing nothing every time i call you and i'm starting to feel weird about it sometimes it's better if you think about it this time, i think i'm gonna drink through it

three days later, richie was undeniably and unequivocally drunk. but, as he's just explained about three times to mike, he knows that it is just easier to not think right, especially about her, right now - and the best way to do that is by getting so piss drunk that even if he tried to "hit her line," as he so eloquently put it, his dick would be too whiskey'd out to make a full appearance.

it's for the best. mike had fake gagged at richie’s cadence with a laugh, but richie was dead serious because he was starting to think he had a real issue.

it was obviously just a fun thing to do between two near-strangers, but he'd found that he was starting to almost pavlov-style condition himself into getting turned on every time the name y/n came across his recent texts or face times, and it was getting to be too much.

especially when her post notification popped up and he cracked a fatty in the middle of his econ lecture. christ, the point of elasticity of markers in the u.s. was not something he pictured when he usually had to quell a pitch in his tent. so yeah, it's too much.

because yes, he loves her fucking body and wants nothing more than her, but in truth he longs for the feeling of her skin against his; to touch her, to kiss her, to make her his. all the time.

but yet, it was just a good way to get off without all the strings and ribbons and yarn and whatever the fuck her soft-looking knit bra is made from attached.

so much for not thinking about her.

but i see her online (and don't think that i should be calling) all the time (i just wanted a happy ending) and i'm pretending i don't care about her stare while she's giving me a tough time

it’s noon the next day and he's laying in (for some reason) stan's bed instead of his own with a blinding, mind-splitting headache and an insatiable craving for a cheeseburger, eyes squinting in lust and something akin to shame as he watches the livestream y/n had just started. she’s in a slip – a very thin, silk and see through slip and it makes him more frustrated than he’s willing to admit.

as he stares at her smooth skin and wonders how it'd be to touch it all, her eyes catch something in the chat and she smiles coyly. "hi, rich." she purrs and richie almost chokes - holy shit, she saw him join.

"do you like my gift i just got?" she asks coyly, snapping the straps of her bra with a small smile and he stiffens almost instantly, thinking of how many times he'd seen her skin in videos and photos that were just for him.

how she'd moaned his name two nights ago on face time, her fingers buried inside herself slightly off-camera. and oh, how he wishes he could see all of her, but they'd not crossed that line yet - anything they'd done hadn't been yet proven visually, only from facial expressions, noises, and the brutal honestly of being together through face time.

he wants her so fucking bad, he needs her like he needs water to drink and air to breathe and it's murdering him as he watches her react to the chat of her livestream, playing with the hem of her black lace panties.

god, he needs a cold shower or something if he's going to get anything done today.

and then he's calling her an a few hours after her stream ends because he just can't wait - he feels his stomach twist with shame as he realizes he should not be doing such a certainly a terrible idea. but she answers after three rings. "richie." her siren voice purrs and he literally feels himself fall deeper into the pit.

"hi there, toots. got any coffee in the pot for me?" he asks, sounding surprisingly eloquent compared to how she normally makes him feel.

she hums in fake thought, and it makes richie grin. she's fucking adorable. "come to the shop, i have my break in ten." and then she hangs up. he sighs, rubbing his face with his hand as he shakes his head. he's utterly fucked.

he's there in record time, a smirk plastered on his face as he walks in and sees her sitting at a table, lookin' all pretty. just for him.

"what made you think of calling?" she says in loo of a greeting. he sits across from her and wills his eyes to meet hers. "nothin' toots." he says with a half shrug, taking a sip of the coffee placed in front of him that has the the name 'dick' written on it in her handwriting. he rolls his eyes affectionately.

"oh, so it wasn't anything to do with my livestream this morning?" she asks with a look, eyeing him. her eyes are swimmable, they hold so many stories and secrets and maybe richie's just hungover, but he's feeling very flustered.

"we-w, uh, no. what... what are you talking about?" he rolls his eyes at himself inwardly, cursing stuttering bill and his contagious speech patterns. "-i don't know what you're talking about, sugar." he recovers fairly smoothly, if he may toot his own horn. and honestly, he can pretend not to care as long as he doesn't look into that goddamn stare of hers.

he chuckles awkwardly, cheeks aflame as she stares at him with a bored look and a small hum. she still looks perfect and he's even more nervous now, because oh god, oh fuck, he's gonna get slapped in the face by y/n.

it was pretty unspoken since they'd started doing... stuff... that richie probably still watched her content online, but she'd never fully addressed it until today during the livestream in front of a thousand others.

he's choking on his spit in shame but then a smile splits her face and richie's sure he's suffocated on his own saliva and gone to a sinner's heaven. or maybe hell.

"oh, richie, i'm just teasing you. look at your face!" she says with an airy laugh, pinching his cheeks and making him want to shrivel up as he turns even redder. what the fuck? "-so cute. alright, i've got to get back to work. i'll see you around, rich." she says with a wink, taking her coffee and tossing it into the trash bin as she stalks towards the employee back room.

he gapes as he watches her leave and then gets up and makes his way to the exit, clutching the coffee like it was trying to jump out of his grasp and make a run for it. god, she's too much.

"maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes i'm not playing with you, baby i think that you should give it a go" she said, "maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes i wanna see, and stop thinking If you're too shy, then let me too shy, then let me know"

"-babe, you'll have to try harder than that." richie says with a chuckle, watching his phone screen as the beautiful girl on face time gives him a sly, challenging look. she's in a green lace bra, one richie's not seen yet and he can feel himself stiffen as she absently trails her fingers over her chest.

they'd been much closer over the last week since he last saw her in person, enough so that in the three-is weeks of knowing her, he's positive he's head over ass for her in a way that he shouldn't be. and yet, she still comes back every time, still texts him and answers those face time calls. he's baffled, honestly.

"i know you hate me because i'm right." he adds, not even totally remembering what point he's trying to prove as y/n shifts back a bit and more of her body is revealed, her hair glowing dimly in the soft lighting of her room. his eyes run over her curves, her full thighs and stomach and hips that fill over her panties and he almost groans.

"whatever, maybe i'd like you better if you took off your clothes." she says coyly. and richie's half flattered, as usual, but the more he thinks of it the more deflated he feels. he kind of thought they were growing something more than just getting each other off over face time like horny fifteen year olds. he grins nonetheless.

"you say that a lot, you know." richie says breathlessly as he stares at her. she tilts her head ever so slightly and grins, biting her lip as her eyes move around her screen with a conflicted look. "-why?" he adds.

she hums again.

"well. okay, so there's the visual world - like, the internet, onlyfans, instagram- it tells us that everything is amazing. and we should want everything. and it makes us yearn for everything that we don’t have and everything that’s unobtainable. you know, love, a relationship beyond physical. and even physical, it's different when it's online."

her words confuse him much more than they aid him. "you think... that because of the internet, love is unattainable?" he asks with furrowed brows, unsure how somebody so perfect and, quite frankly, lovable, would think that.

"it is for me." she says it with a small sense of forlorning but mostly it's whispered. enough that richie's heart skips a beat and he's, for the first time, not having a hard time keeping his eyes on her face instead of her body.

"what?" he asks dumbly. she just laughs, shaking her head and he stares at her on his tiny phone screen in the dark.

"that’s something that, you know. in real life, person to person, it has a lot of connotations of... trust and vulnerability and connection. doing what i do- and what we're doing… on the internet - it has the opposite of those connotations. like, before you, i didn't- i didn't really do this, i just was selling stuff. because guys don't want to fuck the girl who sells her body online. and you know now, i want to..." she trails off and richie doesn't dare interrupt her because he thinks she's about to say something he's wanted to tell her for a while now.

"i don't know, i guess. exploring someone's body in physical presence isn't seen at all as voyeuristic, or anything apart from...like, an intimate exchange." she says it casually, brushing hair from her face and shit, richie's swooning. he's in fucking love, he knows it, because y/n is so smart and intelligent and he's so fucking trashed for her. as she speaks, her hands move and distract him slightly from her body, doused in blue light from the screen and splayed out for him and only him on her phone camera.

the soft lace on her hips and chest make his body stiffen and it causes him to suppress a groan as she sighs, but richie knows he can’t screenshot this heavenly sight because she’ll definitely notice and she can probably already tell he’s having a hard time not staring at her alluring figure as she talks.

"-whereas, you know. as soon as it happens on the internet, it becomes kinky and cam-girly. and, you know, that's fine. i love doing it. it's just, i'm not sure where the authentic communication even is now. or if i get to have a happy ending." she says and he finally sees her blush for the first time.

he wishes he was there with her, he wishes that he could touch the redness on her cheeks and caress her curvy body and taste her skin on his tongue. he wants to feel himself inside her, he wants to be with her and kiss her lips and yet he can't, so he sighs and shifts in his position, moving to turn up the brightness of his phone so he can see better.

"shouldn't you get to be the one to decide that, doll?" is all he adds. because he feels kind of lost and just as confused as y/n is with this.

he's starting to feel weird about it, because... is this authentic? what makes things like hookups or whatever the hell they've been doing authentic? shouldn't this be easy? it's just phone sex, phone sex with a really hot girl.

a girl who is complex and alive and full of sincerity and richie is definitely falling harder than he should.

she just sighs but makes no other comment. and then they just stare at each other, richie's face illuminated in his dark room by the phone's reflection.

well, i found a motel it looked like the bins i think there'd been a murder so we couldn't get in i need to get back i've gotta see the girl on the screen

"come over and watch a movie with me." he says into the phone, biting his lip. the silence from the other end of the line is deafening as she makes her decision, because they both know she's not about to come over just to watch the shining or psycho.

they've never done that before, and richie knows if she does come over, then whatever they have will crash down in a fiery mess. and he hates how excited that makes him as he waits in silence for her to drop the ball. so to speak.

"okay." she says, sounding shocked herself, and richie can't contain the excited grin from eclipsing his face. "yeah?" he asks breathlessly, and she's quiet for a little longer. "yeah. text me your address."

she hangs up after that, and richie's thumbs shake as he types his address and sprints out to where stan, mike, ben, and bill are playing video games in he and stan's living room, wheezing at all of them to get out because someone fucking unbelievable is about to walk through that door.

she's there about an hour later, cheeks flushed when richie opens his door, looking just as nervous and flustered. "hi, chee." she says breathlessly, staring up at him with those goddamn eyes, the eyes that pulled him in the first time. his stomach flips in affection at her nickname and he offers her a drink as she takes in his shitty apartment. he wonders briefly if stan ended up buying that rosé that he'd given him shit for considering, and then prays that stan will stay the night elsewhere.

she's already pouring out glasses of wine when he snaps back to reality, and he grins at her, mumbling in thanks as she passes him a glass that's certainly poured almost to the brim.

"what are we watching, then?" she asks coyly, lifting a brow at him. his cheeks are red, but he tugs her arm down the hall towards his room with a grin, their wine sloshing from their glasses as they move erratically.

"we're watching psycho, y/n/n." he says as he pulls her into his room, glancing back to see she's already swallowed down almost half her glass, a lipstick stain on the side of it. faintly he knows stan will be frustrated if richie doesn't clean that off, but he's more distracted by her lips.

"i like psycho." she says with a nod and a cheeky grin, "the whole 'voyeuristic gaze' thing with hitchcock." she mumbles, and richie recalls faintly learning about that in one of his film classes freshman year and he grins as he takes a hefty gulp of his rosé, figuring he's already given himself away and if she's going to do that, he can too.

he hums, setting down his glass and grabbing hers to set it besides his on the bedside table. he turns around, intending on grabbing his laptop so they could watch the film, but she's so much closer that he'd expected and her hands fall onto his shoulders and he almost shits himself.

unpleasant, but honest. just richie's style.

"can i try something?" she asks with a grin, and richie nods, knowing that she could do anything to him and he'd gladly let it happen and most likely pay out of pocket for the damages afterwards.

and then she's pulling him from her grip on his shoulders, her lips sliding against his and making him grip her hips. his mind almost explodes at with y/n-sensory-overload because he feels her everywhere - on his lips, against his hands, on his shoulders, and pressing against his front.

her lips taste like chamomile and rosé.

she thinks his lips taste like vanilla and cigarette smoke, just as she'd always imagined. he feels so real, pressed against her lips and his body against hers, and she sighs as her tongue slips into his mouth because god, she's needed him for so long. and now she has him.

his hands move, touching every inch of her as their tongues fight for dominance. she pulls back, smirking as she gently pushes him onto his mattress, sliding onto his lap smoothly afterwards, grinding her hips against his slowly.

the moan he emits is heavenly and she could cry because she finally gets to hear it in person and not through the crackling static frequency of the phone.

so she grinds down on him again, eager to feel all of him. he's hardening against her core and she whimpers into his mouth in need as his fingers slip under her top, rubbing circles on her bare skin and making her shiver. she's noticed to this gentleness; it was rare when she did get to enjoy the comfort of another body with her own, and when she did they were hardly half as loving or caring as him.

she's desperate now, she needs to feel him inside her after all these weeks of teasing and waiting, so her hand snakes down to palm him through his sweats. he lets out a small groan into her mouth, biting her lip as he pulls back slightly. their eyes meet and his are hooded with lust, lips parted as she pumps him slowly from outside his sweats. his hips buck up lightly into her palm and she smiles gently, kissing him slowly.

"let me make you feel good, y/n." he mutters, eyes pleading as he stares up at her. her stomach flutters with butterflies and she nods, shocked that he wants to pleasure her.

he gently pulls her off his lap until she's laying on his mattress and he stares down at her, biting his lip as he takes her in. he can't fucking believe she's really here. she slowly pulls off her top, leaving her in her bra and jeans as she stares up at him with a wry, seductive smile. then she unzips her jeans and slides them off, leaving her in his favorite set of hers - black, lacy, and revealing. she looks utterly stunning and he groans, his hands falling to run over the skin, tracing the lace on her breasts. her cheeks are red as she gazes up at him.

"touch me, richie." she orders and he almost groans as he drags his lips over the valley of her breasts, sucking on the soft flesh and admiring the splashes of budding purple and pink that he's created. her heartbeat is quick under his fingertips and he moves to unclip her bra, kissing her skin as the fabric falls away.

she's slightly cold in his room, and goosebumps appear over her flesh as richie leans to catch a nipple in her mouth, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud. she lets out a quiet whine that has richie rutting into the mattress next to her, his fingers trailing down to dance at the waistline of her underwear.

and then he's pulling aside her panties, his fingers running up and down her slick folds and making her jump in lust. he can't wait, just like her, and he's rubbing her clit teasingly as she pleads, "chee, please." her eyes are eyes closed in bliss as his finger slips inside her, crooking slightly as he moves it. he presses his lips to the skin of her breast, pumping his finger and then soon adding another, crooking them both in a way that makes her let out guttural moans of pleasure. he marks her breasts with littered pink and red marks, smiling to himself at her figure.

she can't help but swoon as she watches him, his hair in his face slightly until she brushes it back, his fingers curling inside her and making her gasp, pleasure coursing through her body. his thumb softly comes up to rub her neglected clit and she grabs his shoulders to steady herself, the pleasure almost too much.

she's honestly slightly shocked - knowing richie as little as she really does outside of the literal booty calls at two in the morning and the accumulative forty five minutes they'd spent in person, she'd expected him to be... well, good. just good. because there's no way someone so funny, caring, and smart could also be that good in the sheets.

but right now, he's making her see goddamn stars.

"i've been wanting to touch you for so long, sugar." he mutters, eyes raking over her figure as her breath comes in stuttering gasps. she watches him with blown-wide eyes as his demeanor changes right before her, making her fall apart at his fingertips.

"that feel good, honey?" he asks, smirking as she whimpers, clenching around his fingers. "yes, god you feel so good." she utters, making him groan in approval from where he's sat back, watching her face contort in pleasure. she lets out another moan and richie stares at her body, watching his fingers as they fuck into her. he can't take it, then.

"will you sit on my face, doll?" he blurts, and she nearly yelps out as his fingers leave her. it's abrupt, but she's started to notice that this is how he operates - impulsivity is his second nature. and she loves it.

her face burns as she nods, the thought of richie under her making her whimper with anticipation. "yes, richie, please." she moans out again and he's grinning, laying back on the mattress with a wink. "c'mere, need to taste that pretty little pussy." he mutters and she feels herself clench around nothing, desperate for him as she swings a leg around to straddle his head.

immediately, his hands wrap around her thighs, thumbs smoothing over her stretch marks as he stares up at her, eyes glinting with desire. slowly, his finger pulls the seat of her lace panties to the side and his breath hits her bare, throbbing pussy, making her breath hitch. she cards her fingers through his hair and lowers herself slightly, gasping in shock as his tongue darts out to lick a bold stripe up from her entrance to her clit.

"chee," she moans out, tightening her grip in his hair and sending a groan through his body that reverberates and makes her shiver. his lips attach to her clit and fiery pleasure snakes through her body making her legs shake, a moan escaping her lips immediately. he sucks lightly before releasing to swirl his tongue, her moans making richie impossibly harder through his sweats.

"so good, rich." she mutters and he groans, tongue spreading her wet folds and slowly prodding at her entrance, dipping in slowly before pulling out, teasing her.

she can't help but grind down slightly, making richie grip her tightly, tongue sliding into her again and making her yelp. "you taste so good, baby." he mutters lowly before slowly reattaching himself to her heat, her eyes rolling slightly at the sensation as he fucks his tongue into her. one of his hands snakes up to her ass, gripping it tightly and then slapping it, the stinging pleasure making her buck her hips against him, emitting a hiss from her.

"rich, i-" she cuts herself off with a sharp gasp, the pleasure from richie's mouth making it increasingly harder to speak. her toes curl and her head tilts back as his tongue flicks over her clit, teeth grazing it slightly and making her buck.

she's embarrassingly close already, and judging by the way richie's smirking under her, he can tell. "please, please." she mutters, hips rocking on him as his tongue swirls, nipping softly at her clit and making her cry out. "please, make me cum, 'chee." she mutters and his tongue moves quicker, hand slapping her ass again.

and then she's clenching her thighs on either side of him and grinding down as she hits her peak, moaning quietly as she shakes in pleasure on top of him. he rides through her high, lapping at her and pulling away with a grin as she moans his name dejectedly. she's worn out from the best orgasm she's ever had and he gently nudges her so he slides in between her thighs, her back now on the mattress. he kisses her cheek and she keens quietly.

"fuck me, richie." she mutters, eyes still closed. his eyes snap to hers, surprised at the dominance in her voice after how she was two seconds ago.

he moans quietly, kissing her deeply as he ruts against her and relishes in the feeling. he's pulling off his sweats and boxers in record time and then he's pumping himself as he grips her hips, turning her so she's on her stomach, ass propped up slightly. his hand runs over the smooth skin of her ass, snapping the elastic of her panties and making her moan quietly.

then he's lining up her hips with his, pulling aside the lacy seat of her underwear to press against her entrance. he waits a moment as he leans to press a soft kiss to her spine, slowly easing into her. she moans loudly as he eases in, her face pressing against the pillows. she smiles as she smells the scent she'd just recently come to know as his, his cock stretching her and filling her up fully as he buries himself to the hilt inside her.

"so tight, sugar." he mutters and she whimpers, getting antsy as she adjusts to his size. "richie, please, need it so bad." she mutters, bucking her hips back against him in need.

"say that again." he mutters, sounding strangled, and she grins into the sheets. "please fuck me, richie. need it so bad, need to feel you ruin me." she whimpers, chest fluttering in anticipation. his hands grip her hips as he pulls out of her slowly, almost as slowly as he entered, before stopping almost all the way out. she moans loudly in pleasure as he pushes back in, snapping his hips against hers and filling her completely.

she briefly thanks god that his roommate seemed to be out for the night as she moans his name loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

he sets a brutal pace, his cock thick as it fills her up and makes her toes curl. he pushes her hair away from her neck and presses kisses to it as he hits a spot inside her that makes her scream his name. his fingers move to pinch her nipples, rolling them as he fucks into her.

she's completely blissed out at the feeling of him inside her, so glad that he invited her over and that they finally get to touch each other. "rich, oh my god." she emits, eyes squinted shut in complete pleasure.

"fuck, toots, takin' me so well, aren't you?" he asks, hands kneading her ass before slapping her right ass cheek harshly, making her arch her back. at the new angle they both let out a groan and richie knows he'll fucking cum too soon if they stay like this, so without warning he pulls out completely.

y/n whines, breathing heavily as his hands come to flip her around. now on her back, they make eye contact and she bites her lip, pulling him in for a searing kiss that knocks the wind out of both of them. images of richie in his room alone, snaps and late-night face times play through her mind as he grips her and slides her hips down towards him on the mattress and lines himself to her again, pulling her legs up so they're against his chest before pushing in.

he gives no time to adjust to this angle and it makes her moan loudly as he hits a spot deep inside her that pulls her closer and closer to her second orgasm.

his name leaves her cherry lips like a mantra and he can't stop staring at her as he fucks her into the mattress - the way her tits bounce with his brutal pace, the way her face is twisted in pleasure, the way she clenches and spasms around his cock.

one hand grips her breast, rubbing her nipple with his thumb and forefinger as he kisses her again, addicted to her taste as he feels himself coming closer and closer to the edge.

"chee, fuck, right there." she moans out and he groans in pleasure, the feeling of her walls clenching around him making his hips stutter. he keeps his thrusts up, though, as her fingernails rake down his back leaving small trails of burning pleasure in their wake.

her skin is covered with a sheen line of sweat as she looks up at him, hair wild and lips kiss-bruised. "god, don't stop, 'm gonna cum." she mutters and he snaps his hips harder, eager to make her cum so hard all she can think of is his name.

he moves a hand down to rub at her clit and he moans into her neck as she clenches hard around him, her hips bucking spastically. he can tell she's about to cum, and after a hard thrust, she does for the second time, spasming around him and sending waves of pleasure up his body. she's moaning his name, pulling him closer in bliss as she becomes sensitive and god damn it, she's so fucking beautiful.

"please cum, richie." she whispers against his lips, "please." and then at her will, he's spilling into her, hips stuttering as he pushes as deep into her as he can, loving how she clenches in sensitivity around him. he stays inside her for a moment as they breathe, coming down from their highs and eyes closed as they take in what just happened.

"holy shit." he says because yeah, that's like all he can say right now because he just got to fuck y/n and she's kissing his fucking collarbones right now and its making him blush and his heart flutter.

"that was...incredible." she whispers against his skin and he can feel her smile against his skin. it makes him feel all soft inside as he pulls out of her and flops next to her, kissing her forehead.

his fingers flutter over her sensitive core, smiling as he sees how wrecked she is, some cum dripping down her leg. he then soothes over the lace panties, patting her lightly and kissing her red cheek.

"rich?" she asks, making him look up at her. he hums in question, pushing some of her hair back. "can we still watch the movie?"

his heart swells and he grins, kissing her softly. "of course, doll. you're too cute." he says with a wink, making her roll her eyes. he hands her his shirt and then pulls sweats on himself, mumbling "stay here" and padding out to the kitchen to get her water and snacks, then returning minutes later to see her holding his phone in her clutch with a smirk.

"what're you doing?" he asks with a smile, but she shakes her head, making grabby hands for him and the snacks. so he laughs, cuddling up with the girl of his dreams and watching a flick, falling sleep with tangled limbs and a lipstick-stained neck.

and after she leaves the next morning with a kiss and a wink, he checks his phone and smirks to himself as he notices the lock screen she'd apparently made last night while he was making snacks.

a photo of her in his bed, wearing his shirt, a soft smirk on her face, neck littered in budding hickeys and a hand between her thighs next to her black lace panties.

god, she's going to be the absolute death of him.

//tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @simplesammyx @dickology64 @clownsloveyou @emnotm @moon-shine-baby @toziershmozier @daughter-of-the-stars11 @lets-vibe-bro @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @beauregard-s@finnskindofwoman @kait-tozier @upamongthestarss \\

#richie tozier x reader #richie tozier smut #richie has adhd #losers x reader #losers club x reader

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ivyuns · 4 years

Text

love again ❆✰

lee minho

genre: angst / fluff

word count: 2.4k

warnings: drugs + language + a bit suggestive + a few grammar mistakes (this was written at 5 am plz i cant)

A/N: why do i keep having dreams of someone who i used to like :(

masterlist

nonidol!minho x fem!reader

taking a picture of the scenery of paris in front of you, smiling of how well it came out, a real smile this time. hearing a voice call out your name, you turn around as your smile dropped, seeing someone who you didnt ever wanted to see. lee minho was his name.

it started as you two were young and in love with each other back in high school. you two we known as the toxic couple. not because you two were bad for each other, but because you did everything together: drugs, alcohol, getting high, sex, you name it. other than those, you two had another side of being soft. the romantic dates and the funny days shared.

the time you two hung out as best friends everyday, making everyone in school thinking you two were couples. the night where minho took you star gazing late at night after having a fight with your mom and ended up kissing you and asking you to be his one and only.

til your mom found out that you did drugs and drank underage because of minho. she forced you to break up with him and you felt like shit. you called him to meet you at the park you two always went to and left the house to go see him.

arriving at the park and sitting on a bench with the winter breeze around you in your light cardigan. feeling something on your shoulders made you feel tense til you smelled where the owner of the jacket is. lifting your head up, a tear fell from your eyes. minho’s eyes soften as he took a seat next to you and wiped the tear away.

“y/n, whats wrong love?” minho asked. “m-min, we need to break up”. minhos eyes widened from your sentence. “b-baby what happen? is everything okay at home? please tell me”. sighing and standing up as you took off minhos jacket off of your shoulders and gave it back to him. “just know that i still love you forever and always and we’ll meet in the next life” and left him.

minho sat there in shock, not knowing what just happened. it felt like a big part of him just left him.

the next week at school, you werent at your seat. you were nowhere found in school. you were just laying on your bed, feeling total shit. feeling nothing to do but just cry to sleep. your mom made you do online school to stop you from seeing minho and his friends. you phone made another noise as you sighed. looking up to see your phone on your nightstand, you see 44 missed calls and 64 messages from minho. tears falling down even more, you ended up falling asleep with a worried minho waiting for you at school.

and that was the last time you ever saw him, you first and last lover. his cousin, who was your best friend had kept in touch with you and told you what minho had done during the breakup. inhaling and consuming drugs, overdosing on drugs, drinking more and going crazy while yelling your name and wanting you to come back into his life.

minho eventually got over the breakup in a year. looking at the memories you gave him, he had the urge to call you names you didnt like him saying. his cousin passed by his room and heard him saying things you hated being called. knowing it was about you since his cousin had knew you before minho so of course you told her everything.

feeling hurt and angry about what she told you, you felt yourself growing apart from him. why still love him after he called you those names? you gave yourselft sometime to heal and feel better about yourself.

now here you are now 3 years later, visiting your dream city, france. you always wanted to come here when you and minho were a bit older but things didnt work out.

turning around after hearing minho called you, he ran over to you. looking at your figure, he can tell you lost too much weight but still had the perfect brown eyes with your hair recently dyed to light brown and your fashion senses that changed. only with you in a black top and baggy tan pants with black converse. god how much did he miss you.

a few minutes after not talking, you figured he just wanted your attention after he searched you everywhere in paris when his cousin gave him updates on you. walking away from him, he quickly grabbed your wrist. “y-y/n, can we please talk?” you made him let go of your wrist and continued walking to your hotel.

minho quickly ran in front of you and stopped you. “please y/n, what did i do wrong?” you sighed and looked up at him. “maybe if you werent so psycho, you wouldve known.”

minho stood there and thought of what happened. was it when you broke up with him? no, it couldnt be your fault. when he called you more than enough? no. when he was about to propose to you and run away with each other? no way. you two broke things before he could even ask.

‘shit’ he thought. it made him realize. he was too angry at some point and called you names that you hated being called and point out your insecurities. he knew someone was outside his door at the time.

facing back reality, he sees you still in front of him. “figured out now, mr lee minho?” you crossed your arms and a little smirk formed on your face. even after years, you still cant stop loving him. minho takes your hand and drags you to a park to lay under the sunset, watching to stars as it turns dark. remembering from your high school days.

laying down with you in minhos embrace, you whispered a ‘i love you’ to minho and fell asleep after missing the warmth of minho. minho, who smiled after you fell into your slumber and pulled you closer to him. “i love you too y/n”

a few hours, you woke up to nobody in the park but you and minho in the dark. noticing you were still in minhos arms, you got up and woke up minho. minho opened his eyes and saw your panic face. “minho, where are we?!”

minho was fully awake now. looking everywhere, he couldnt remember where or how he took you to this area. “god minho if you werent such a dumbass. youre lucky that my phone works fine here” you said as you gathered your stuff and grabbed minho’s hand, forcing him to get up and follow to directions on your phone to where your hotel was.

minho just smiled and walked close to you. “you havent changed a bit y/n” he says. you stopped walking and turned around which resulted minho bumping into you. “youre really asking for a slap are you?” minho quickly shook his head a no and you turned around and began walking again.

opening your door to your hotel room, minho was full in daze. everything was decorated beautiful just for a hotel suite, or thats what minho thought it was. “you can sleep on the couch here, ill be upstairs if you need anything” you said and head upstairs where your room was after giving him an extra toothbrush and toothpaste and other necessary items.

“wait y/n!” he calls your name and you turn around to walk downstairs. stopping at he last step of the stairs, minho walks towards you. “can you actually stay down here. i-i mean like so we can catch up on stuff like you know?” you knew he just wanted you to stay down here since he couldnt be alone.

“ya, youre just trying love me again arent you minho?” you joked as you poked him. minho scoffed and went to sit on the couch. “as if”. walking towards the couch and sitting next to minho, you lift your legs onto the ottoman. “im just joking min, of course ill stay here with you” you say to him and looked at him with a happy smile. minho smiles also after hearing you call out his nickname youll call him during your relationship.

hugging you waist, minho leans towards you as you get lost in his sparkling eyes. he lays you down and kisses your lips. at first, you wanted to pull away, but after missing his kisses, how could you resist it?

a few weeks had gone by and you two had returned to korea as a couple again. another 3 weeks and you moved in with minho after getting kicked out when she found out you found minho. with no hesitation, you facetimed minho about what happened and let his loving girlfriend move in with him.

moving your belongs into his apartment, you felt nauseous. going to the toilet to release the sickness, minho puts down a box and runs over to your side after hearing disturbing noises from the bathroom. “baby, what happened? are you okay?” minho says and tries his best to comfort you while he lifts your hair into a ponytail so its not in the way. “i-i think im-”

tears started streaming down your face as thoughts ran past your brain. what if he doesnt want the baby? is it too early? were still in our early twenties. you were cut off by minho hugging you. “its okay baby. we can check and see in the morning. lets go head to bed, i already got the last box.” nodding your head, minho leads you to the bedroom with his arms wrapped around you and your head on his chest, both slowly falling asleep.

waking up first thing in the morning, you turn and see minho still asleep. going to get ready to for the store. most importantly, for the pregnancy test.

walking back into the apartment, you immediately go to the bathroom and take the test. waiting for the test to give out the answer, minho wakes up to you not next to him. grabbing his phone from the nightstand, he goes to your contact and texts you.

my baby <3

where are u ?

hearing the familiar notification bell, he sighs as he realize you didnt take your phone with you. getting up, minho goes to the bathroom and sees you with the test in the palm of your hands. he goes up behind you and hugs you and to see the test come back with positive.

with the biggest smile on his face, minho turns you around to face him. “you dont know how happy i am y/n” “but minho, how are you not mad?” you pulled away from the hug with a confusion look on your face, “shhh, just pretend i wanted this to happen in the future when we dated.” minho back hugs you, facing the bathroom mirror.

you see minhos hands rubbing your stomach. “its been our dream to have kids and get married. and ta da!” turning yourself around, you hug minho at a better position. “thank you minho for loving me back and not leaving us, i love you so much”. minho leaned in and put his forehead on yours. “i love you more than you do baby” and gave you a loving peck.

END <3

yes another minho fic bc this was sitting in my drafts and i dont know where this was heading to hehe

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arcticdementor · 3 years

Link

I was talking to Sarah yesterday and I had a revelation I think is worth sharing.

Let’s begin at the beginning. About a month ago, Instapundit posted this.

Now, I’ve been thinking of the rise and fall of civilizations lately. I can’t think why it’s been on my mind. It’s a tale as old as time—a civilization emerges, establishes a new worthwhile order, the good things brought forth by said order soften up the people maintaining it, the softening turns to decadence, and the decadence gives way to the barbarians, who clean the slate. Where would you say things are lately?

…

In short—the federal government of the United States of America has become impotent at almost all good things.

Expanded out—There is no start to its talents. It cannot maintain its borders. Since the “election” it doesn’t even try. No surprise there. It cannot maintain friendly relationships with allies—as our recent screwing of Britain on our way out of Afghanistan shows. The “leader” of the “free world” could not be bothered to pick up the phone for our closest ally. Speaking of Afghanistan, it can’t win a war. It can’t even lose gracefully. In fact it fucked up leaving so badly some people are entertaining that it intended to fuck it up, because how the fuck does somebody above the age of six not notice that pulling the military out first and the civilians out second is not even a remotely workable strategy? Resulting in leaving millions of dollars of equipment—and—excuse me, what? Millions of dollars of dollars in the desert? Fantastic.

It makes self sabotaging and idiotic choices to stymie its own domestic oil industry, while accepting a pipeline not from Canada, but one that’s a joint Russian-German venture instead. Which means the problem, contrary to any environmentalist whining, isn’t the pipeline—it’s the pipeline with a friendly country. Big surprise— its only true interest in the environment lies in international agreements that hamstring us while doing nothing to China, the world’s largest polluter. It either can’t be trusted on energy production and the environment, or is trying to get it wrong.

It can’t manage its economy. What could have been a “V” shaped recovery has been turned into an “L” shaped one. What could be contributing? Paying people to do nothing? Rampant inflation? Meanwhile all the dumbasses running the country can think of is spending several billion more dollars that don’t exist. The country has infrastructure problems for a fact, but they’ll only acknowledge that to the extent of cynically plastering the word on an “infrastructure” bill which is in fact just a far Left wishlist that largely ignores actual infrastructure, in the hopes people will be dumb enough to support it because it has the right label.

And on.

What aptitudes does it have besides taking money, trampling civil liberties, and ignoring constitutional laws at gunpoint? News flash, dummies: We don’t need peaceful protestors incarcerated without a trial. We don’t need the weight of the federal government turned to the problem of violating states rights because Texas passed a law Biden doesn’t like. We need military egresses that look like they weren’t planned by Bozo the clown and an economic plan better than something China would design for us as an attempt to permanently sink the country. Is there anyone at all in DC who can provide that? If not, is there anything useful they can do? I’ll wait.

…

This is what decadence looks like. When the government stops even attempting competence because nothing and nobody that currently exists can replace or displace them so who cares about results? When comfort and plenty have become so common, been taken for granted for so long, that the question of utility or even basic sanity isn’t even distantly considered. When it’s assumed that self-harming policies that will obviously damage the country won’t really matter because nobody has ever known a world without America and fundamentally has no idea how the present day came to be. When the country’s most educated start chasing bizarre and unimaginably stupid ideas on economics that boil down to “inflation won’t happen if you double the monetary supply by printing money, if only you just believe hard enough”. In fact, when education stops being a means to greater insight, more useful abilities, and a better life, and becomes a cult devoted to the kind of idiocy that can survive only with strenuous censorship, the tenets of the cult being treated by the indoctrinated as a collection of sacred mysteries and deeply-thought paradoxes— while to those not similarly trained it is self-obviously a collection of contradictory and self-serving lies.

Verily, decadence is here. We can infer that what comes next is the barbarians. And we have options. Mexican illegals? A heady mixture of poverty-stricken Marxists who have never known a system that wasn’t corrupt, functionally lawless, and devoted to the tenets of voting oneself rich; and outright criminals with lives like “a demon’s resumé”? Perhaps radical Muslims? By sheer numbers worldwide they’re the most likely option. The Taliban just got a huge infusion of cash and a big boost in morale. In a few short days we’ll know whether they’ve arranged a thank you gift for Zho Bi-Xen and his kleptocrat marching band to commemorate his intended pull-out date. But even if, and God I hope, they have not, we can expect an uptick in terrorism and quite shortly. Or perhaps China? The Middle Kingdom would laugh at being called barbarians, but I call genocidal communists like I see them. Mao was morally three steps below a pig and Xi has enough power to aspire to greater depths. As is I wouldn’t dream of feeding a pig Mu Shu Xi due to the great risk of poisoning the pig.

But there is a barbarian group not considered. Us.

Hang on. Before you balk, listen. Look again at what these idiots are selling as the fruits of civilization. Defenses of pedophilia and urinals as art. And more, too—sterilization and disfigurement of teenagers in the form of sex changes. Black supremacy as a panacea to made up threats of white supremacy. Books nobody reads, movies nobody watches, paintings that exist only to launder money—even the ones not made by Hunter Biden.

What good person would not be proud to be considered a barbarian by these miserable, over-decorated Faberge people? I’d be mortified if they agreed with me! So they think I’m a sexist or a racist or whatever. Fine. They do not use these words to mean the same things I mean, so it’s a pointless argument, and they are now officially beneath my explaining myself to them. When the people who are calling me names are so morally opaque that the Taliban can make devastating critiques of them just by referencing the foundational works of their own gender studies programs, I’m done caring about the names. Fine. I’m what you think is a racist. I’m what you think is a sexist. But you think a lot of very stupid things, and as the curtain continues to draw back on the carnival of madness that’s been behind the scenes the entire time it’s occurring to me that what you think and reality overlap so seldom that the only time not to ignore you is when I can ridicule you. If that is your civilization, someone hand me a pointy horned helmet.

…

Yes, this is a moment of peril, but also opportunity. See in your country what every hostile group listed above sees in it—the makings of great civilization, along other, less stupid lines. All of it guarded by weak, fat, stupid people with no will and no self-belief. Take that mindset and go forth.

Get involved in your local systems. There is an old prayer for God to make ones enemies ridiculous. Congratulations to whomever was still praying it. Your prayers have been answered. Will you tell me that you cannot defeat these people? People who lose casual debates to terrorists not on principle but on basic facts?

…

You can’t reason with them so don’t bother. Recent events have made it clear you may as well try to talk sense into a three-day-old mackerel. Just confront them with their own stupidity so that people who see the inevitable video understand what this is about, and don’t feel that you are too good to shout them out of the room. You’re the barbarian, remember? Not like the nice civilized people with their gender-queer Tik-Tokers pushing vaccine propaganda. That means you’re excused from conversations with morons. Don’t bother trying to find common ground. Look at where they’re standing! Do you want to try to find the midpoint between that and reality? Silly. Pointless. Send them back to their walled online gardens to whine to their equally stupid friends about the barbarians.

Can we take it back from the ground up? I don’t know. But hey, it’s got to be worth a shot. Join the fun! Find some friends and locate a low-hanging political event to raid. When was the last time you went to a town hall for your town? Isn’t just a part of you curious to know whether your local county commissioner starts by declaring her pronouns? Wouldn’t it be wonderful to see someone like that made very uncomfortable? You can make that happen. You can probably do it within the next month. Bring a few friends! Or a few dozen. Some of the people reading this probably were afraid to do that kind of thing for fear of losing their job. The Biden economy might have freed up some of your time. What have you got to lose now? More importantly, the way things are going, are you going to lose it anyway if things continue as they are? Think on it.

#thomas kendall #sarah a hoyt

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carnistirs · 4 years

Text

retrouvailles

↳ @taangweek 2020 Day 4: Future

This one could go for past as well, but I’m dropping this today because the setting’s technically in the future. Here’s 7k+ words of Aang and Toph being soulmates.

Read it on ao3 or under the cut

retrouvailles {French} the happiness you feel upon reuniting with someone after you've been apart for a long time

‘

“Are you alright, miss?” a voice asks, soft in the clamor of the snack aisle—

It’s violent, the way Toph’s ripped away from her little daydream, and her body’s still flinching as her eyes and ears slowly readjust to the people around her. There are no flying bisons and wingled lemurs here because they don’t exist, because she’s in a goddamn grocery store.

She tiredly lifts her gaze up – all the way up – to an angelic figure leaning over her, what with the lovely features and the bright light brimming around his shaved head. He’s all broad shoulders and lithe muscles and effulgent tattoos, and even though he looks like an incredibly kind person, something about him sets her teeth on edge. Like she should know him by now even if she’s never met this man in her life.

“Was I blocking you,” she replies, unable to help the flatness of her voice. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

Toph moves to walk around him, oddly reluctant.

“No, wait—” the guy blurts out, panicked, his nimble fingers reaching out to curl lightly around her shoulder blade—

And they say it’s like nothing else matters, that touching your soulmate for the first time is like sating a hunger you never knew you had.

She’s always thought that was a fat load of bullshit – what, you meet the stranger that’s supposed to be your other half and it’s happily ever after just like that? – but here she is, a hypocrite to her own thoughts.

Toph hones in on the warmth that’s molded around the curve of her shoulder, feeling a far too pleasant burn smear its way down her spine. She leans away from the stranger by a few inches, just to test it their limits, but fuck, it hurts. She’s met him for a total of three minutes and the sensation of not touching him already leaves her with an ache she can’t even begin to understand.

He makes a hurt noise in his throat when she leans away, jarred by the abruptness of their separation. His hands follow after her, touching the points of her elbows this time, and Toph feels the tremor in his hands, hears the quickness in his breath.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, tightening his fingers around her skin. “I know we don’t know each other, but—”

“This is so stupid,” Toph groans, but she’s slipping a palm over his wrist thoughtlessly, touching the thrum of his pulse. “Why a fucking Walmart of all places?”

Her soulmate’s mouth twitches into a smile. “Why not a Walmart?”

Because it’s the lamest place ever, she wants to say, but then she catches his smile and she stutters to a stop. She gazes at his pretty grey eyes and knows them, has seen them in multiple lifetimes.

(It’s you reverbrates in the space of her chest that used to be hollow, that used to be a void tundra.)

There’s a soulmark on her forearm now – long, golden vines with leaves that twist into the complimentary ones wrapped around his own skin, and the longer they touch, the more intertwined their vines become. It’s both thrilling and unsettling since, so far, Toph’s lived through twenty years of her life with a bare forearm.

“So,” Toph ends up mumbling, because she knows where this is going to lead and because someone has to eventually, “your place or mine?”

‘

“Do you really think friendships can last more than one lifetime?”

“I don’t see why not.”

‘

Her soulmate’s name is Aang, a vegan pacifist whose happiness seems endless, and the while he’s chirping to her about his life like an excited hummingbird, she finds it harder to fathom why the fates specifically chose him for her.

“I’m talking way too much about myself,” he chuckles in embarrassment, pink dusting over his cheeks.

Shrugs. “I asked.”

Aang’s curled up with her on his couch – his apartment had been closer - idly playing with one of her hands. Their tea sits on the coffee table, cold and forgotten, but she’s too stupidly inebriated with the feeling of his hands on her own to care. Toph doesn’t mind the constant touching, surprisingly. It feels so much better than anything else, and there’s this still moment where they watch his vines crawl from his fingers over to hers.

“What about you?” He’s close enough for his cheek to brush her shoulder. “Tell me about yourself? Pretty please?”

“I’m an art student,” she grins back, unwittingly, at his enthusiasm. “I go to BSSU.”

He positively beams at this. “I go there too! Why is it that I’ve never seen you around campus before?

“Different curriculum maybe?

Toph feels the heat of his gaze wandering everywhere, stiffening slightly only when it drops to the puckered skin on her right leg. “Is there a story behind this?” she hears him ask quietly, his fingers hovering over the scar, but not quite touching it.

“You’re going to think I’m fucking crazy.”

“Try me.” Aang’s isn’t sporting that bright smile anymore, but his face has softened completely. “If you want, that is. You don’t have to tell me.”

It’s strange and new and terrifying, but he’s a gentle breeze in their bond, surrounding her without suffocating her, smoothing over the points of her body that are maybe a little too rough, a little too jagged.

“Well, there’s this forest near the house I grew up in,” Toph starts, drumming her fingers along his soulmark. “I walked through it so many times that I practically memorized it. I really thought I could navigate myself through the forest blind, so I put on a blindfold—”

(The darkness doesn’t welcome her, not the way she wants it to.

Her bare feet press into the earth and she doesn’t feel the vibrations of the earth moving around her, doesn’t hear the songs of squirrels skittering up the old trees, of worms writhing in the dirt. She feels disconnected from everything, small and insignificant.

She carefully glides along the flat surface of the boulders, but misses her next step, falls down and keeps falling—)

“Anyway, now I have a permanent reminder of how much of a dumbass I was,” she says, half bemused, half self-depreciating.

But Aang opens his arms, his face silently pleading, and she hesitates a little. Her soulmate is a stranger wrapped in odd, familiar skin and when they’re pressed together, it’s like they’re speaking an old, sacred language only their bones know.

They should be in bed right now like most soulmate couples their age – or at least kissing, maybe - but she supposes she’ll fail at that too amongst other things.

So, Toph leans in, biting back a satisified hum when his arms coil around her shoulders. He smells like clean laundry and a hint of cinnamon, and when he sighs in content, she feels her muscles relax.

“I like to stand on the edges of high places,” Aang noses against her hair, probably unaware that’s he’s doing it too. “My friends can’t stand it when I do it, but I can’t help it. I never have the urge to actually jump,” he adds in a small laugh, “but I like to imagine that there would be a way for me to somehow catch myself if I do. Then I remember that it’s not possible and I feel this...incredible loss.”

An unexplainable loss you never had in the first place. Yeah, she gets it.

“Thanks.”

“Of course.” His eyes languidly trail after the uplifted bend of her mouth. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

There’s an anxious spike of hope blooming in the pit of Toph’s stomach and it’s not coming from her. She doesn't exactly know how she knows this either, but it's all Aang she's feeling.

It’s coming from him.

Which is ridiculous because Toph shouldn’t be able to feel him like that. Soulmates don’t work like that. There’s soulmarks and the constant need to be close, but not this invasion of other people’s emotions—

“Yeah, sure,” she says.

Everything is okay. Everything is fine.

Get a fucking grip.

‘

“Some bonds only need an hour of touching and they’re okay for the whole week,” she says at the threshold of his front door, lingering. “Maybe we’re like that? I mean, it doesn’t hurt to try, right?”

“O-Okay,” Aang stutters, brows furrowed, looking like he really wants to follow after her like an imprinted duckling.

Toph lets go of his hand then and the sharp sting she feels should have been taken as a warning. She takes a step back though, forcing herself to play dumb to his white fingers clenched around the door frame and the sudden pallor of his face.

Her fingers tingle in a particularly awful way as she waves goodbye to him and the discomfort is rudimentary, really. It’s nothing she can’t handle, considering she’s had worse done to her skin.

She makes it as far as the turn of the hallway, right when Aang’s out of her view.

Pain grips at her right arm and the numbness flares outward, careening her into the wall. She can’t fucking breathe because it feels like her lungs are being scraped out by a rusty spoon, like her ribs are being branded by hot iron—

Aang barrels into her at a frightening speed and they go teetering to the floor, but he curls his body around hers protectively, possessively, breaking her fall. He’s mouthing something frantic against the hollow of her throat, but she can’t hear it because she’s too overwhelmed by the sensation of his pain pressing down on top of hers.

Whatever she’d felt earlier is vaulting back tenfold and it’s so strange to feel her own emotions looped back to her through a feedback that’s experienced through him. She feels him desperately wanting to take away the unseen hurt throbbing in her while trying to compress his own down and, gods, this isn’t normal.

“Um,” Toph whispers, her voice trembling with her body as she clings to him. “Okay, that was a dumb idea. I’m sorry—”

“Maybe you should stay with me for a couple of days—”

She doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “We have school. How are we going to do—”

“There’s an exemption form we could fill out online. It’s for soulmates who have recently bonded. It’ll get us out of classes, just – please, please don’t leave.”

“I don’t have extra clothes on me or a toothb—”

“You can borrow my clothes. You’ll drown in them because you’re so tiny,” Aang laughs, hoarse, sliding shaking fingers into her unbound hair. “And I have an extra toothbrush you can use. We’ll figure it out, Toph, please.”

What the fuck, what the fuck—

“Alright.” She closes her eyes, surrendering herself to raw instinct by sticking her nose to the skin underneath his jaw. “I’ll stay.”

‘

“Choose well. A sky bison is a companion for life.”

He’s holding an apple in his hands and his legs are jittery – like it’s impossible for him to stay still. The baby bisons are circling their mother in the air and his breath catches because he’s never wanted anything more in his life.

There’s a small bison just a few feet away, looking like it’s waiting for him. It appears to be the runt of the litter, but that’s okay because he’s the smallest in his class too. If it accepts him, then perhaps they can grow together.

Biting his lip, he carefully approaches the small bison and offers the apple to it.

It – no, the bison is a he – sniffs the fruit along with his extended hand before opening his mouth expectantly.

He tosses the apple in and allows himself to pet the bison on the nose while the latter chews. He doesn’t expect the bison to nuzzle into his touch with a pleased rumble, but the creature does anyway, leaning too far in until he loses his balance and falls on his rear end. The bison licks at the whole of his face, pulling happy giggles from his mouth and he knows, then and there, that he’s found the one.

“I guess this means we’ll always be together,” he smiles wide, hands rubbing on either side of the creature’s muzzle—

‘

Toph blinks awake to find herself plastered to Aang’s back with both of her arms snaked around his chest. One of his hands is clasped in hers, their fingers twined, and she has a leg thrown over his hip as if she’s slept with him like this their whole lives.

His bedroom is small and simple, but there’s a slight airiness to it that reminds her of the temple in her dreams – or not dreams, apparently. She sees this temple in the sky in quick flashes while she’s awake too, and if they don’t show her in the company of monks, then it’s always with that six-legged bison.

“I can hear you thinking,” Aang mumbles sleepily.

She presses her face to his shoulder. “Shit, did I wake you up?”

“Yeah, you waking up actually yanked me out of sleep too.” Gently tightens his fingers around hers, reassures her that he’s not upset. “It’s not a big deal. What’s bothering you?”

I think I’m seeing your memories from a past life never quite leaves Toph’s mouth.

“Nah, it’s nothing.”

And maybe that’s the wrong thing to say because Aang just turns in her hold and exhales into her neck, slipping his arms around her waist. His fingers tease the hem of a shirt that’s too big on her and he asks in a hushed tone if it’s okay. Toph nods, her skin shivering in loose delight once his palm slides underneath the shirt to splay itself flat against the small of her back.

The moonlight peeking through the curtains shows her one side of his face – the argent in his eyes, the fan of his inky lashes, the indent of his cheekbone. Objectively, he’s stunning, so she could have done a whole lot worse.

“You know I can tell you’re lying, right?” The corner of Aang’s mouth lifts, amused. “I can feelthat something’s wrong.”

“Can we just—” Opens her mouth and shuts it, frustrated inside. He rubs his thumb in calming circles against Toph’s skin and she still doesn’t know if she likes how one touch can clear her muddled thoughts just like that. “Can we just pretend that we don’t have some weird telepathic-empathic thing between us? Just for tonight at least? Fuck, it’s a lot to unpack on the first day.”

His hurt is muffled, but it’s there and she feels it her chest, taking root. “You think it’s weird?” he whispers, sounding like an open wound.

“Doesn’t this freak you out?”

“Yes, of course it does.”

But underneath the blanket of her own emotions, she senses fear for this bond. Fear at the thought of Toph rejecting him so quickly. She tightens her leg over his hip instinctively, telling him no, she’s not rejecting him. She doesn’t think that’s even possible at this point.

He presses a smile into her clavicle, relieved. “Do you remember dinner? When you were groaning after taking the first few bites of the pasta?”

Toph blushes. “Don’t make fun of me! I didn’t know artichoke sauce was even thing!” Or so delicious. “I was caught off guard, okay?”

“You were happy eating what I made for you and I felt that happiness,” Aang says, so soft. “It felt beautiful. You felt beautiful, Toph.”

(And I’d give you the whole world to keep you happy forever, he sings into her veins even if he doesn’t realize it yet, even if he’s just as scared and lost as she is.)

What an optimstic fool he is. “I might drive you nuts,” Toph throws back instead.

“Oh, I know you will.”

She pinches Aang’s side, cackling at his high-pitched shriek even when the sharpness of her index finger and thumb on his skin echoes against her own.

‘

“Where the hell have you been!”

“Chill, Sparky,” is Toph’s lazy response as she waltzes into her apartment, leading Aang in by their tangled fingers. “I texted you.”

“‘Be back in a week, dude’ doesn’t give me much to go by. A fucking week? You could have been dead for all I knew!”

“Stop projecting your sibling issues onto me. I’m here, aren’t I? Besides, when you found Sokka and Suki, the three of you didn’t leave your room for more than a week, you dirty hyprocrite!”

“At least you knew where I was the whole—” Zuko abruptly closes his mouth, his gaze darting to the towering man at Toph’s heels. “Aang? Wait, how do you two know each other?”

Toph lifts both their arms, showing him the fresh knitted vines gleaming on their skin. “He’s my soulmate. How do you two know each other?”

“I know Sokka and Sukki,” Aang chimes in cheerfully. “Wow, what a small world, huh?”

“How’d you two—”

“Anyway,” she interrupts brashly, not in the mood to retell their romantic, fateful meeting at Walmart, “Aang’s gonna be staying here for a week and then I’ll go back to his place for another week, and so on and blah blah. At least until the bond settles. You get it. Let us know when dinner’s ready,” she adds, practically yanking at Aang until they’re both confined in her bedroom.

Aang taps the end of her nose. “That was mean.”

“Please,” Toph makes a point of rolling her eyes. “Zuko barely said a word to me after touching the other two. They burst into the apartment like a fucking hurricane, almost doing it right there in our living room. So fucking rude.”

‘

She’s in the shower when she suddenly feels absolute terror choking at her, nearly making her slip on the tiles.

Toph barely wraps herself up in a towel before she’s barging out of the bathroom, extremely thankful that her room’s close by. Aang’s on the floor, back leaning against the frame of her bedroom door, quivering fingers curled around one of her older sketchbooks. Aang blindly reaches for her when she approaches, pulling her down onto his lap and burying half of his face into her shoulder blade.

“Is my art that terrifying?” Toph tries to joke, but he doesn’t even smile.

The drawing had been done in charcoal, dark and blurry around the edges, and she almost doesn’t remember drawing it. There’s an enormous centipede thing crawling out of a cave, its legs reaching out to take, to steal. The only colors on the sketch are the red lips and the grey eye markings of the Noh mask it’s wearing on its face, but she’s not sure if that makes it better or worse.

Aang’s voice is a quiet, little thing when he asks, “Where did you see this creature?”

(“My old friend, the Avatar,” the monster utters in a serpentine hiss. “It’s been a long time.”

“You know me?”

“How could I forget you? One of your previous incarnations tried to slay me,” it accuses, the white mask flickering into the face of an older man with a mustache and a long beard, “maybe eight or nine hundred years ago.”

“I didn’t know that.” It’s difficult, keeping his emotions out of both his face and voice. “Why did he – or I – try to kill you?”

The thing changes again – a beautiful woman this time, with long brown hair and familiar, sad eyes.

“Oh, it was something about stealing the face of someone you loved.”)

“A nightmare, I think,” Toph answers carefully. “Actually, you know what—”

She rips the page out of the sketchbook and crumples it tightly in her first. It feels like an ugly omen against her palm, riddled with malice and sadism, and she chucks it into her trash can.

“You didn’t have to do that. That was your work,” Aang murmurs, his guilt gnawing at her.

“It was a creepy-ass drawing. I don’t know what I was thinking when I drew that.” Pause. “I have better stuff on my desktop if you want to look.”

He kisses her shoulder, smiling sweetly. “I hope the creatures on there are less frightening.”

“Don’t be such a wuss. Wanna see what a badgermole looks like?”

‘

After their soulbond settles, they’ve learned that they can get through the day by themselves relatively alright as long as there was skin-to-skin contact for at least an hour beforehand. It no longer hurts to be away from Aang, but it is uncomfortable as fuck, like an itch burning inside that’s screaming at her to scratch it until it’s bloody and raw.

Which is fine.

So ridiculously fine.

The lecture is a drone in the back of Toph’s mind as she doodles along the corner of her notebook page to take her mind off the itch. The mintiness of the gum she’s snacking on ebbs away suddenly, turning into something vastly different.

She chews again, tasting raspberries, fruit juice, bananas, and...almond milk?

Aang is waiting for her outside the door when her class ends and as soon as he sees her, his entire face lights up like the sun. His content rolls over Toph in a soothing whisper and she subconsciously mimics his smile, her body humming with want.

In spite of the protesting noise she makes, Aang scoops her up in his arms until her feet are dangling above the ground. He nuzzles his cheek to hers, his breath warm against the ridge of her ear, and he twirls them once because he can’t help himself. She hisses at him to put her down, but it doesn’t really bother her as it normally would with literally anyone else.

“Did you have a smoothie?” Toph asks.

“Yeah.” He keeps his hands pasted to her hips, his eyes bright with excitement. “I tasted the gum you were chewing earlier.”

“I want to say that I’m surprised, but am I really at this point?”

A deep chuckle as he cups her face in his palms. “Don’t be so glum. Think of all the possibilities! What if you’re really hungry, but you don’t have time to get food because you’re taking a test or something? I could eat something and you’d be able to taste it.”

“Oh, yeah, super cool. What if you’re hungry and I decide to get a hamburger?”

He blinks, his grin faltering. “I’m vegan, Toph. You know that—”

“You’re not actually eating it – you’re only getting a taste. Like you said, all the possibilities. You ever want to try a steak? Or a milkshake with actual milk?”

Toph bites back a smile, doing a poor job of concealing how much she really enjoys it when he gets all flustered.

‘

“Do you believe in reincarnation?”

“You drunk already?” Sokka passes a bemused glance at her. “I don’t remember you being that much of a lightweight.”

It’s warm in the bar – she can tell by the slight flush on Sokka’s cheeks that has nothing to do with being intoxicated – but Toph still burrows her nose deeper into the wool scarf coiled around her neck, still tightens her coat around her. Aang may be on the other side of the city, but he’s somewhere outdoors, somewhere cold, and the alcohol isn’t making her any warmer.

Aang doesn’t do well in colder weather, but he’s having fun with his friends even if he’s getting the both of them sick. She can feel him missing her, missing the press of her fingers on his skin even though they’d seen each other hours ago.

“You have two soulmates,” Toph grumbles. “The idea of past lives shouldn’t be that fucking implausible.”

His shoulder gently bumps against hers. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“I’m not upset—”

“Okay, okay, let’s start over,” Sokka smiles at her, completely genuine and not at all mocking. “Why do you suddenly believe in reincarnation?”

“I have these dreams,” she says, her brows knitting together as she curls her hands tighter around her glass. “Well, I used to think they were dreams, but then I’d see something while I’m awake. They’re always about Aang in this completely different life and it’s like I’m a passenger in his body, just going through the motions.”

“And you think these things are actually his memories from a past life.”

Toph exhales quietly, the lines of her body losing their tautness. She feels mildly less insane now that someone’s acknowledged it for her.

“They feel too real to just be my imagination. It’s always him in the same timeline.”

Sokka hums, thoughtful. “Maybe they are his memories, Toph. Who knows? Soulbonds can’t be explained, but people accept them anyway. For what it’s worth, I believe you.”

“If this is you making fun of me, I swear to—”

“No, I really mean it! Like, if I didn’t end up with Suki and Zuko – or either of them – in a previous life and reincarnation’s just a thing that’s giving me a second chance to actually be with them, then that’s pretty cool. Fate’s doing me a solid.”

“Second chances,” Toph muses, more to herself than anything.

“Yeah, why not?” He downs the rest of his glass. “On a side note, what else are you feeling from Aang since the bond started? Something tells me you guys are...not normal.”

Toph starts to respond, but then she hunches over the counter, shoulders shaking. It slams into her out of nowhere and she has to clamp both her hands over her mouth to muffle the uncontrollable laughter. She’s yanked further and further into Aang’s joy, feeling it so keenly that the corners of her eyes begin to prickle with tears.

“What is happening,” Sokka blurts, alarmed and concerned. “Are you having a stroke—”

“One of Aang’s friends did something stupid and funny,” she hiccups out in short breaths, still guffawing. “It might – it might have been Bumi.”

Sokka gawks at her, frozen in place. He then orders another round of drinks for the both of them.

‘

Monk Gyatso lies against the wall, just bones and dust, and the omniscient rage of a thousand lives sinks down on him—

‘

The weight of his grief completely buries Toph, so much that she collapses in a public restroom. Her fingers scrabble at the tiles beneath her, desperate to clutch onto something, anything, as the memory consumes her. Something vibrates in her pocket for a long, long time, but she’s too busy screaming soundlessly into her palm to notice.

Panic slips into Toph, making her blood run cold, and the longer she ignores her phone, the more frenetic her soulmate feels—

“Toph?” is his voice on the other line, wildly frantic, when she finally answers the call. “Did someone hurt you? What’s wrong, where are—”

“I—” Her breath comes out in harsh pants. “It’s o-okay. You don’t need to come.”

Rustling, like Aang’s already preparing to step out. “No, no, that’s not what it feels like,” he argues softly, and now there’s pain in his voice because she won’t let him come to her, won’t let him take care of her—

Her chest squeezes tighter, aching. “I slipped. I’m, uh, good now.”

“Toph, please.” His voice breaks and she screws her eyes shut, tasting saltwater in her mouth. “Please let me come to you. Tell me where you are.”

So she whispers back that she’s at the tea shop near their school, the one owned by Zuko’s uncle.

Aang rushes into the women’s restroom ten minutes later – a feat in itself, considering the usual commute is twice that amount – and she’s never wanted him to see her like this, hunched under one of the sinks and sobbing over a memory that isn’t even hers.

He sucks in a sharp breath like Toph’s pain cleaves him. His eyes are red-rimmed and she can’t even look at him because she’s so sorry. She’s sorry that he’s lost his people, sorry that he’s lost his home, sorry that he’s lost his entire culture.

The way he stalks over to her is noiseless, ghostlike even, and then he’s plucking up all the bird bones of Toph’s body, folding himself around her and concealing her from the rest of the world. It makes her cry harder, if anything, to the point where she’s dry-heaving against his chest, but it helps when she pushes her hands under his shirt to touch the tight skin around his hips.

She tells him everything. That he was raised by Air Nomads in another life. That he was something called the Avatar. That they lived in a world where people could manipulate the elements as they pleased.

That they lived during a long, long war.

“You controlled the element of air first,” Toph rasps out later, when it finally doesn’t feel like her lungs are going to give out on every inhale. “You and Appa got caught in this storm, and then you did something that left you frozen at the bottom of an ocean. Katara and Sokka found you, but when you came back to the Southern Air Temple, everyone was dead and it had only felt like you left days ago, but a fucking century passed—”

To his credit, Aang doesn’t once ask who Appa is or what the Southern Air Temple is supposed to be. His heart beats faster and his skin jolts at the familiarity of her words, but he holds her still.

“Breathe, T,” he says, rocking her, sweeping her dark hair away from her neck so that he can kiss the small space behind her ear.

She does. Inhales for four seconds, exhales for six—

It’s a breathing technique that Monk Gyatso had taught Aang. Had taught her.

Their soulmarks cling to each other distressingly, her aurelian leaves and vines overlapping his.

“Do you ever dream of me?” Toph asks, calmer.

“I have many daydreams about you.” And that’s mischief slanted against her nape, rounded out by his mouth. He’s soft and playful now, making her sink further into his embrace. “When your memories come to me, I don’t actually see anything.”

Tries not to be too disappointed. “Oh.”

“No,” Aang smudges a smile against the corner of her mouth, gently thumbing a tear-stained cheek. “You were blind in your last life, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t see. You didn’t need to. You felt these vibrations in the earth and it allowed you to see and hear things no one else could. You were the greatest earthbender that ever lived.”

“She sounds way cooler than me.”

He tips her face up. “You’re just as cool as she is,” Aang breathes, and there’s a brush of lips against hers, slow and sweet. “Just as beautiful.”

(I found you again, her soul thrums out, the loudest it’s ever been inside her.)

Toph twists in his arms, chasing after his mouth. It’s almost too much and not enough at the same time, tasting his honeyed delight and feeling it mingle with her own. His hands shove themselves up her sweater to frame the space of her back as he parts his mouth, allowing her to—

“Gee, it looks like you guys are fine in here,” comes a monotonous drawl that has them breaking apart, sputtering. “And here I was, worried for no apparent reason.”

“Mai!” Aang practically yells, his ears turning beet red. “When did you – why are—”

The other girl waves a dismissive hand. “Toph and I were going over work. What was supposed to be a five-minute restroom break turned into a forty-minute one,” she adds pointedly, raising a brow.

“Sorry,” Toph says sheepishly. “I had a thing. Like a panic attack or whatever. It’s gone now, so no biggie.”

Aang, severely disagreeing with her on that last statement, wraps her up tighter in his arms.

“We’ll continue tomorrow,” Mai says then, and it may just be Toph’s imagination, but she thinks she sees the former’s face soften a bit. “Get some rest.”

After Mai leaves, Aang plays with her loose hair. “We should probably leave too.”

“Yeah.”

But Toph’s leaning in, pausing only a few inches away from his lips and grinning when he automatically closes the distance. She feels that buzzing of happiness again and whether it’s his or hers, it doesn’t matter.

‘

Aang’s shoulders are still quivering as he drops shaky, open-mouthed kisses along the crease of her hip. He’s been pulled apart to pieces, beautifully and painstakingly, and the remnants of bliss still drumming within him makes it slow to put those pieces back together.

She only knows because she feels the exact same way. She feels everything.

“You’ve ruined me for anyone else.” His voice is wrecked and his lips are so kiss-swollen, but he’s still this hopelessly exotic thing sprawled between her legs. There’s an indelible glaze to his to expression that makes him look so thoroughly fucked, and when he rests his chin on her stomach and looks up at her with soft, needy eyes, something inside her chest just melts.

“Why didn’t we do this sooner?” Toph husks out with a laugh.

“Yeah, why didn’t we,” he murmurs back, still loopy, nosing the skin around her navel.

Toph strokes her fingers along the arrow inked on his head, pulling a quiet mewl from him. The arrow tattoos on his body are the same design, the same placement – just the wrong shade of blue. These lines are darker than the ones she sees in his memories.

Maybe the effervesent, illuminating blue that once marked Aang as an airbendering master doesn’t exist in this world.

“Can you skip your classes tomorrow?” he asks.

“Why?”

His answer is a trail of wet kisses up the flat stretch of her belly. “Because I want to keep doing this.”

“Really.” Toph plays off as nonchalant, even when her heart skips a beat. “You want to render us incapable of walking by the time we’re done?”

“Toph, I don’t think I’m able to walk now,” Aang chuckles, before looking up at her from beneath his lashes, coy. “But I still want you in my bed whether we’re having sex or not. I just want you.”

His want reverbrates in the apex of Toph’s thighs and she wishes she can be as open as he is. She wants him in her bed forever, but the words become stifled in her throat, never leaving her mouth. He smiles at her though, tender and adoring, like he knows what she’s trying to say.

She rolls them over, straddling his hips. Gratification seeps into her at the way his pupils dilate, at the way he takes her in breathlessly.

‘

He’s upset – so very, very upset – and she doesn’t know why.

Toph feels it two blocks away from his apartment and it spurs her to walk faster, to the point where she’s running.

After letting herself in, she finds Aang leaning over the kitchen counter, the stiff lines of his back obvious through his thin shirt. She leans her back against the counter and presses her elbow to the nimble fingers constricted around dark granite.

“What’s up, grumpy?”

Her soulmate breathes out noisily, his shoulders bunching forward like he’s trying to make himself much smaller than he is. He doesn’t turn to face her, doesn’t immediately trap her in his arms like he usually would after a long day apart. He leans against her though, heavy, part of him trying to disappear into the pale abyss of her skin.

“We weren’t married to each other,” Aang whispers, horrified. “I was married to someone else. A non-bender, I think. I don’t recognize her voice.”

And there’s really no point in getting angry with Aang or this mystery woman because the past is the past, but jealousy festers anyway, scratching at her bones. She tries to taper down it to keep him from feeling it, but he flinches, looking even more miserable than before.

She tries for apathy then: “So? It was in the past – a past we’re only barely starting to get details from.”

“But I was still seeing you. I had kids with this woman, but I was still sneaking around with you—”

“Okay, so I was a side chick. Whatever, that’s fine—”

“It’s not fine,” a muscle in his jaw jumps, “none of this was fine. I’m seeing this from your persepective, remember? You weren’t okay with this.”

“Why does it fucking matter?” Toph spits, a small part of her regretting it when Aang’s mouth pinches into a thin line. “Maybe we never got together. Maybe sex on the the side was our only option. Whatever the fuck we did in that lifetime, it’s got nothing to do with what we have in this one!”

(“She’s beautiful,” he murmurs, gazing down at the newborn. “Did you decide on a name?”

“Suyin’s kind of pretty. Has a nice ring to it.”

Tightly swallows. “Toph, is she – is she mine?”

“Don’t worry about it,” the woman in bed mumbles. “It’s not your problem.”

“But—”

“I’m not repeating myself, Twinkletoes. And she doesn’t belong to anyone but me.”)

Then Aang grazes her side with feather-light hands, silently asking for permission. She’s still bristling in her skin, but he makes the frustration and shame go away with just a brush of his palms on her body.

She wants to stay mad at him, wants to stew in silence all by herself, but she physically can’t, not when he’s already made a home for himself in the space of her ribs.

Toph pulls him in with an incoherent grumble, binding her arms around his torso to anchor him back to earth because he feels like he’s going to float away. He shivers against her, mouthing soft apologies against the column of neck as he clings onto her. Even on her tiptoes, her head barely reaches his chin, but she leans on them anyway because she doesn’t want him breaking his neck trying to bury himself in hers.

“Maybe I leave my wife when our kids are older,” he says, his teeth scraping over her shoulder. “I leave her for you.”

“You really think that happened?”

“Yes,” comes Aang’s response, but even that sounds a little unsure. Like he desperately wants it to be true. The uncertainity makes him press into her until there’s no visible space left between them. “Why wouldn’t I do that for you? We’re soulmates. I don’t believe in any lifetime where you’re not always by my side.”

Toph rolls her eyes. “You’re such an embarassing idiot sometimes.”

Aang smiles, his tongue flicking against her jawline. Heat simmers at the pit of Toph’s stomach, rising languidly, and his hands are at the back of her thighs. “I need you,” he sighs, catching her mouth with his.

“I know, you dumb airhead.”

She quickly finds herself hoisted onto the counter before she’s tipping her head back, letting him unbutton her flannel and kiss his way down—

‘

“Don’t worry,” Katara says. “We’ll find you a teacher. There are plenty of amazing earthbenders out there.”

There’s a deep wrongness in him as he stares back at Gaoling. Like he’s making a mistake by just giving up and leaving—

“Not like her.”

After he climbs onto Appa with reluctance, he doesn’t immediately lift the reins. Sometimes, there are rewards to being patient, to sitting still and letting the winds carry their answers to you. When he listens to the currents around him, he catches a flurry of hurried footsteps headed in their direction.

Delicate hope grows in his chest.

“Toph!” Happiness etches itself onto his face, wide and open, when the small girl runs out of the forest. “What are you doing here?”

“My dad changed his mind. He said I was free to travel the world.”

It’s a bold-faced lie.

But when Toph smiles, something inside his own stomach flutters wildly—

‘

“Are you alright, miss?” a voice asks, waking her, his mouth lightly tracing the curve of her ear.

“Fuck off,” Toph mumbles, still face down on the table, in spite of her fingers reaching out to rest along the nape of his neck. The taste of coffee – the strong kind – lingers on her tongue. “M’ tired. Why’d you drink coffee? And a goddamn red eye at that.”

Aang tugs at her hair teasingly. “Because I almost fell asleep while driving over here to get you.”

“Ugh, you’re going to keep me up all night.”

“I can think of a few things we could do to pass the time,” Aang smirks, nuzzling his nose along her cheekbone. “Or, well, one specific thing actually—”

Toph snorts. “Dork.”

He snatches her up, fingers digging into her side as he drags her onto his lap. Peals of laughter escape her while he tickles her relentlessly, so much that the harder she laughs, the more she feels him eventually shaking with laughter too, amplifying the sensation. One of the campus librarians shushes them sharply and she feels Aang hiding his face into her throat to escape the blame.

“What’s that?” he inquiries out of nowhere then, reaching for something on the table—

“No snooping!” Toph hisses without any real heat, swatting his hand out of the way to shove the tiny book into her backpack.

It’s a flipbook that she’s still working on, showing Aang peacefully bending all four elements. She had originally wanted to illustrate him kicking Ozai’s ass, but she doubts he would like the violence of it, so she’d gone with this instead.

Aang perks up in excitement. “Is it for me? My birthday’s in a couple of weeks, you know.”

Rolls her eyes. “Just wait and find out, Twinkletoes.”

She stands up in an attempt to gather her things, but as soon as she does, the feeling of a thousand pins pricking at her legs washes over.

“Your legs are numb,” Aang glances over with both bemusement and sympathy, on the verge of discomfort himself. “Here, I’ll carry you.”

“Nah, let’s just wait—”

But Aang pulls her arms over his shoulders, picking Toph up until she’s literally hanging onto his back, before he grabs her backpack. She hates being picked up in any manner, but it’s a losing battle with a cheerfully persistant soulmate like him. She yanks on the lobes of his ears, but he just grins, hitching her body higher.

“Yip-yip,” Toph says.

“Do I look like a flying bison to you?”

“You’re right, that was a terrible comparison,” she replies. “Appa is obviously a hundred times better than you.”

Aang makes an affronted noise, but Toph rests her head on his shoulder blade and kisses the elegant line of his neck, placating him. The brisk air hits her face once he walks out of the library and Toph tucks her face harder into his skin.

“I had a dream that you were looking for someone to teach you earthbending,” she whispers, wistful and smug. “You wouldn’t settle for anyone but me. Said I was the best out of all of them.”

“There’s no one else like you,” Aang replies easily, thumbing nonsensical patterns under her thighs.

He’d said that in his past life as well.

“Hey, Aang?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t think we ended up together.” Because the snippets of his memories where he’s an adult are a lot sadder, filled with such hurt and longing. “I think we might have crashed and burned.”

Aang breath falters in her ear and he grips her harder, refusing to lose her to their past failures, to whatever broke them.

“We’ll do better this time, T.”

‘

(And they do.)

‘ [end notes:

BSSU = Ba Sing Se University

To clarify, what's normal for soulmates in this universe - (1) soulmarks appear as soon as soulmates touch each other (2) the need to be touching - the limits of this can vary with every soulmate bond, it all just depends.

As you can see with Aang and Toph, they obviously have a lot more going on with the XD

I hope this wasn't too confusing with the way Toph was receiving Aang's memories. Anything in italics was her seeing a memory. If anything was in parenthesis, that meant that Toph experienced the memory before the present time. Let me know if the italicized text isn’t showing like it does on the ao3 link. Tumblr’s being shitty for some reason.

If this was all confusing anyway, go ahead and yell at me]

#taang #aang #toph #aang/toph #modern au #soulmate au #soulmates #reincarnation #atla #avatar #avatar the last airbender #taangweek #taang week 2020 #fanfics #teabag fics

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oikawa-tuwu · 4 years

Text

Exit, Stage Right

🎭 Chapter 16 (oikawa x reader)

“Someone’s in a good mood today,” your new understudy, Chiyo, comments when you collapse in the chair next to her. Finally, the last scene for the day was blocked, which meant that the cast would be dismissed, which meant you could go to the cafe, which meant you could finally meet Alien Boy.

Finally.

“Am I?” You say, still grinning despite your usual post-rehearsal exhaustion.

“Yeah, you haven’t glared at me once today,” Oikawa hums somewhere in your right ear, and you glance back to see that he claimed the seat behind you, and is currently leaning much too far forward for comfort, his face, a daunting mere few inches from yours. “Care to explain what has you so happy, Juliet?”

Even the slight acceleration of your heart isn’t enough to get your mood down, so you just shove his forehead back with your hand and put his stupid pretty face and stupid pretty hair and stupid pretty grin out your mind. Oikawa wails a little, but your attention has already moved on.

Alien boy.

“Good job, everyone. You’re dismissed for the day-”

Your hand is already reaching for your bag.

“Except for Y/n, Watari, and Yahaba, I want to run the scene one more time, because something in the blocking was off and I want to make sure we have it down before we move on.”

“Damn,” Yahaba mutters, apathetically, as you reach for your script again. “That sucks for you.”

“You could at least pretend like you don’t find my pain amusing,” you bite back, but you follow him back up to the rehearsal space. “Sadist.”

Yahaba shoots you a blinding smile. “Dumbass.”

“Be nice,” Watari chides, but he’s grinning too, so the scolding falls flat.

Most of the cast still wanders around the seats, talking about weekend plans or collecting their bags and scripts, but surprisingly, the third year boys have already left. It had seemed like a new tradition for Oikawa, lingering behind to bug you about going to practice lines or walking you home, but he’s nowhere to be found. Even Iwaizumi is already gone, leaving Kyoutani and his perpetually angry expression to read from the stage manager’s script.

“Alright, we’re going to go from Juliet’s line, line number…”

Fifteen grueling minutes later, the director dismisses you.

Thankfully, you’ll still get there on time if you hurry, but it doesn’t help that your friends are walking at a snail’s pace. Even Kyoutani is walking slowly, and that boy basically runs everywhere most of the time.

“Look, a flower,” Yahaba says for the eleventh time, slowing down to peer at it, and you’re about ready to sock him.

“Fuck you, I’m leaving you behind.”

“I was joking!” Yahaba laughs and you hear the other three second years pick up their pace to catch up with you. “Wait for us!”

Your last memory of Sakura Cafe was when Oikawa’s jealous ex-girlfriend poured coffee on you and stained your favorite uniform shirt, so coming here to meet Alien Boy is a strange homecoming. God knows this store has seen enough dramatics from your life for this week.

Still, you tidy your hair a little with the help of your phone’s camera and adjust your uniform skirt before you turn the corner to the coffeeshop.

For a moment, you imagine what might lie behind the walls of Sakura Cafe. You’ve seen plenty of plays at nearby schools and met quite a few of their actors afterwards, so the possibilities were endless as to who he might be. Was it someone from Karasuno? Their drama club president was handsome and incredibly nice, or maybe their vice president, with his silver hair and playful grin. Or maybe it was someone from Shiratorizawa?

You can’t help but smile a little at the thought. Oikawa would throw a hissy fit if he found out that you were friends with Ushijima Wakatoshi. (He thinks he’s aaaall that because he was in a touring production of Les Mes when he was a kid. Ugh.)

And, once again, Oikawa invades your thoughts.

That boy was like a dagger that slowly slipped between your armor and suddenly had you clutching your heart on the floor. You’d been stabbed once and the armor was a logical next step after the wound he inflicted in your first year. You had been content for the last year to hate him, to pretend like his bad pick-up lines and long eyelashes did more to infuriate than to arouse, but the lies only went so far after that night at the park. He had apologized. He had joked. He had smiled. His true smile, not the one he painted on in the morning, but one that could knock the wind out of you.

And now the bastard had you rethinking everything.

“I can’t do this,” you breathe. “I can’t, I’m in love with that dumbass and I can’t-”

Watari and Yahaba exchange an unreadable look, and then they proceed to loop their arms around yours and essentially lift you off the ground, dragging you, kicking and screaming, towards the door.

“Stop!” You screech. “Kyoutani, help!”

Kyoutani does not help.

Your friends deposit you in front of the cafe doors, Watari helpfully tucking a stray hair back into place.

“You can do this,” Yahaba says, slapping you on the back. “Go get your man.”

“Aw, that’s the most encouraging thing you’ve ever said to me!”

Yahaba grimaces. “I know, it pains me too. Now go.”

“We’ll be right behind you,” Watari grins, and turns you to the door.

“Okay,” you say, and, ignoring the nerves that settled in your belly and slowly spread to your lethargic limbs, you push open the door.

Your first thought after walking through the door is, that’s weird. The missing third years: Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki, are sitting at a table, not-so-subtly staring at you. Hanamaki winks, and then the three turn back to their drinks.

Weird.

Your second thought after walking through the door is, I am the single dumbest person on this earth.

There’s only one other space being occupied in the coffee shop, a small two-person table in the corner. Behind your usual drink order, already paid for and still piping hot, and a bouquet of the reddest roses you’ve ever seen, sits Oikawa Tooru.

You open your mouth, but the only thing that comes out is, “What the fuck.”

“You wanted this,” Yahaba says, cheerfully, slinging an arm over your shoulders. “You’re welcome.”

“What the FUCK?” You repeat, turning towards your friends, then back to Oikawa, then to the third years, then back to Oikawa. “I… you’re alien fucker?!”

Oikawa winces as you hear the other occupants of the cafe die from laughter. “For the last time, I’m not an alien fucker, I just think that the actor who played the Squip in Be More Chill is kind of attractive!”

“O. T.,” you mutter, remembering the initials on your online friend’s profile. “Oikawa Tooru. Our shows opens the same weekend, I’m such a dumbass.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I only realized a couple days ago.”

“It doesn’t.” You turn to the rest of them. “And how long have you assholes known this?”

Hanamaki wipes a tear from his eye, pausing in his laughter long enough to get out, “A blissful week.”

Your face heats up as you realize how blatant some of your tweets had been, thinking that Alien Boy would never see them.

“Is it too late to run away?” You ask Watari.

He just grins and pushes you towards Oikawa. “Yes. Now go.”

You take a deep breath, count to three, and turn back to Alien Boy. To Oikawa.

“So,” he says with a confident grin, as soon you’ve taken a few steps in his direction. “Did I make it obvious?”

You scan the display. You noticed the drink and the roses earlier, but somehow you hadn’t seen the sign, a teal piece of cardstock propped against the wall, that read, Be the Scully to my Mulder?

“I think that is the cheesiest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

Oikawa smirks, taking a single step forward. “I know for a fact that you like cheesy stuff, considering how many times you’ve cried at ‘I’ll Cover You’ from Rent.”

The blush on your cheeks is answer enough for him, but you still try a weak protest. “Shut up.”

Oikawa tilts his head, looking at you the same way he looked at his script before going on stage for a scene he didn’t quite have memorized yet, frantically trying to capture the lines in the last few seconds before his cue. In that moment, you realize how close you’d gotten during the exchange, with a mere few inches between his face and yours. He grins, infuriatingly. “You know, you’ve been telling me that a lot lately, why don’t you make me shut up?”

In a single, fluid motion, you grab his uniform tie and yank him to your height, meeting his lips in a kiss.

Behind you, you hear a few scattered cheers, probably from Hanamaki and Matsukawa, but you don’t care. No, your attention is focused more on feeling of Oikawa’s lips on yours, the weight his hands on your waist, the way he teeth caught your lip a little as you pulled away.

When you finally part, you’re breathless. Oikawa grins at you, that stupid happy smile that killed you the other night in the park, and has the audacity to ask, “So is that a yes?”

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(A/N: And its over!! Thanks for reading, I had a lot of fun writing this one!! The rivals to lovers trope will kill me one of these days. Also I may or may not have casted Shiratorizawa in Little Shop of Horrors. Please send an ask if interested in hearing my niche and probably controversial hot takes, I have a lot of them. Anyways, thank you all for reading/supporting Exit, Stage Right and have a great day!!!)

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#haikyuu #haikyuu smau #haikyu #haikyuu oikawa #hq #hq oikawa #oikawa smau #oikawa x y/n #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #exit stage right smau #hq!! x you #hq!! x reader #hq!! smau

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