theres too many pokemon games where you play as a kid whos full of life and full of potential. there needs to be a pokemon game where you play as a college dropout who lives in a shitty apartment
your starter pokemon are trubbish, rattata and glameow. which symbolise the trash you keep forgetting to take out, the rats living in your walls and the stray cat you keep trying to befriend but it keeps hissing at you.
you guys dont get it its not supposed to be dark and edgy its supposed to be living in a mundane setting and slowly rediscovering the wonder in the world by going on a journey with a magical trash bag that is your friend, its about love and recovery and coping with the stress of your adult life with your friend who is made of sentient garbage
What they don't tell you about writing is that as you write, you discover scenes and entire plots that you hadn't accounted for that need to be written. So you can spend two hours writing and editing only to realise you're further away from the finish line than you thought you were when you started
when the fic has 10k+ words, fluff, angst, smut right at the end, friends to lovers, character who’s down bad for reader, AND Y/N DOESNT ACT LIKE A CHILD
I’ve seen a edit where Jacaerys is frozen in time on Dragonstone still dead and Dany is the one to bring him back to life…
so like imagine.. being Dany’s younger sister, and arriving to Dragonstone and find a coffin with a boy in it..
and maybe Dany’s sister is having memories of a life she never lived..or maybe her previous life. The boy looks so familiar. And a f strange magical force is beckoning her to kiss him.
synopsis: years later, you find yourself fucking the karasuno men... and you cannot help but ask one question: when did they get so hot?!
pairing: afab! reader x aged! up hinata shoyo, kageyama tobio, tuskishima kei, tadashi yamaguchi, daichi sawamura, sugawara koushi, ryunosuke tanaka.
cw: MDNI. CONTAINS MAJOR SMUT. NOT PROOFREAD!
nsfw includes: penetration. cunnilingus. blowjob. dry-humping. fingering. brother's bsf trope. cheating. office sex. power imbalance. dubcon. on-duty fucking?? fwb. "teaching" sex. prostitution. male and female orgasms. rough smex(???).
old m.list. | new m.list.
✮⋆˙ hinata shoyo!
i'm back. ten thirty, hotel lovebomb. you blink at the text. you immediately rub your thighs together at the thought of him, the thought of going to fuck your brother's best friend.
"my god, shoyo." you groan, raking your nails down the pro-athlete's sculpted back. his tanned skin, courtesy of brazil, smacks against your ass with lecherous plaps! the fat of your ass and thighs jiggle, prompting the athlete to grasp handfuls of your body and knead it under his firm grip.
shoyo groans, holding onto your body as he fucks into your pliant cunt from behind. his breath is short, punctuated with ragged moans that remind you of what you two are doing - fucking in a nameless motel somewhere before the japanese citizens even know he's back.
you meet his thrusts backwards, rolling your hips to match his frenzied, enthusiastic rhythm. his chest presses to your back and he snakes a strong hand around your waist to hold you firmly.
you gasp, feeling the pressure of his hold on your tummy. his weighted grasp, along with his unyielding thrusts make your knees go weak. you feel your cunt spasm against his length, contracting out pulses that only serve to lure him into fucking you better and harder and faster.
you feel his washboard abs press against your back, feel the muscles of his bicep tick as he holds you close. his breath is hot against your neck, his weight delicious against your slack body. you feel all blood rush down your body, leaving you delirious and fucked-out.
"fuck, shoyo." you groan helplessly as he grinds his cock into your gummy walls with endless stamina, "when- when did you... get so fuckin' hot?!"
shoyo laughs from behind you, something boyish and irresponsible, "probably brazil."
"th-thank brazil."
✮⋆˙ kageyama tobio!
the last time you saw the infamous king of the court, you were tutoring him for english. he fucked up that test, and you never bothered teaching him again. but here he was... four years later, with a new lesson to learn.
"slightly to the right..." you moan, breathlessly moving his face against your cunt. his tongue licks down an experimental stripe against your fluttering bundle of nerves and you keen into his touches. your lips part, "yeah. are you sure... you wanna eat me out?"
he only nods eagerly, licking another soft stripe in the same manner.
it only takes a few minutes of adjustments before kageyama tobio proves himself to be the most adaptable man on earth. his fingers dig into your flesh, your hips are pulled hard against his handsome face, and his tongue darts across your pretty clit, pressing messy kisses to it.
"ah-hah..!" you pant, arching off the mattress as he makes a mess of your juices on his tongue. his pink, sultry muscle is quick across your cunt. it licks and nips and bites and then kisses the building ache away. he hums against you, then groans and grunts and whimpers. you feel all of him — all of his feral, borderline animalistic sounds and actions. he loses himself in you.
after making you cum the third time, you pant, droopy gaze going to rest on his flushed, sticky face. you bit down your lips, "kageyama... when did you get... hot?"
he blinks, then immediately flames at your question, tucking his face back against your pussy with a sly blush.
✮⋆˙ tsukishima kei!
not ever in your twenty-something years on earth could you guess you were going to be holed up in some rando's bedroom on a random party, gasping over the sounds of loud and trash EDM as that anti-social, middle school ex-classmate of yours, tsukishima kei, would be fucking your cunt so obscenely.
his brows bunch, rosy-lips parted as sweat trails down his sculpted cheekbones and down his pale skin. he clasps your palms in his broader ones, pinning you down easily as his mushroom tip bludgeons an impression of itself against your gummy walls.
you feel your eyes criss-cross, drooling lips part open in yet another loud moan of his name. you feel your brain turn to mush, effectively growing dumber 'n dumber with each powerful ram into your gushing pussy. you feel your jaw sag open as you gasp, "tsu-tsukki..."
"hm?" a lazy smirk pulls at his full lips as he slows his pace down, deliberately deepening each drag of his cock to give you some space to think, to breathe. his rough words are punctuated with ecstatic pants, "what's up?"
your eyes rake over his body for good measure. muscled body, rippling biceps, sharp eyes. the boy you remember from your childhood was just a tall, awkward, dry-humored fucker! never did you think that your body would be pressed against his in such an intimate dance.
you grin dopily, "when... did you get so fuckin' hot?"
tsukshima scoffs but his cheeks are dusted pink, "shut up."
✮⋆˙ tadashi yamaguchi!
"the audit... report." yamaguchi's words lose themselves somewhere between the sounds of your obscene moans and his whimpers. you cock up an eyebrow at your highschool crush, tilting your head to the side as you ask, "what about the audit report, yamaguchi?"
but he finds it so hard to speak with your foot pressing down on his cock. you're both shut in your office, with your subordinate yamaguchi biting down his lips to contain his moans as you play with his erection as if it's a toy.
pressing down on the bulge, he stutters his hips upwards. his eyes are wide, cheeks flaming as he asks, "why... why are you doing this?"
"i'm asking you for the audit report." you hum, "i'm your boss. is it not your job to get it to me?"
he gulps, eyeing down your foot as you press the heel of your feet harder into his painfully hard cock. he stammers, "i- i mean... this."
your foot moves forward and backwards over the dress slacks. you feel how painfully constricted yamaguchi is under those formal clothes of his. you tut, "think of it as a reward."
he nods without putting up a fight, his body going slack in the chair as he feels the friction build up with your movements. head tipping backwards, he fists his hands as you caress his growing bulge with erratic, hard movements.
one more stroke and yamaguchi stills, chewing on his lips as his cum wets his dress slacks. you tsk, "get me that audit report, yeah?"
yamaguchi nods, all sweaty and undone. standing up on jelly-like knees, he pulls a binder against his crotch as he begins to walk out of your cabin. you call for him and he turns. you smile, "by the way, when did you... y'know, get hot?"
his ears go red as he bows, "i- i don't know...?"
"hm." you shrug, unbothered, "that report now, please."
✮⋆˙ daichi sawamura!
taut blue uniform across his muscled body, and you all but feel your tongue loll out of your mouth like a badly-behaved dog. he grins at your state, whispering, "don't look so easy."
but it's hard not to look easy when officer daichi, your highschool ex, is pressing his hot body against you in the backseat of his government-issued police car and kissing you all mean and mouthy.
you sink down to your knees, your flesh rubbing against the carpeted floor as you tug open his uniform slacks and take his leaky, bulbous tip in your mouth. he bucks under you, groaning heavily as he fists your hair in his hand and maneuvers your head up and down his shaft. his dick is heavy in your mouth, hot as you run your tongue up and down the throbbing veins. he hisses and ruts his hips upwards into your mouth.
your nose hits the tufts of neatly-trimmed hair, eyes rolling back as your ex-boyfriend abuses your throat with short, quick thrusts of his cock inside you. air becomes scarce and you dig your nails within his uniform, tearing moon-shaped crescents into the fabric.
daichi grunts, cumming in your mouth with lazy, slow-dragged pumps. you pull off of his cock with a lewd pop! your voice is hoarse as you mumble, "what happened to my good boy, daichi? hah. when... when did you get so hot?"
daichi shrugs, tugging you upwards with a mean, sharp pull. he pulls your dress upwards as you straddle his hips. his eyes meet yours and he grins, "probably when you broke up with me."
✮⋆˙ sugawara koushi!
you blink at the man sprawling his legs open in front of you. your old highschool classmates smiles up at you, holding a hundred dollar bill as he muses, "i didn't know you got into... this business."
the neon lights of the strip-club colour you in a myriad of shades. you shrug, accepting the money and tucking it into your bra. "i didn't know you were an enjoyer of this business."
pushing him back, you grind on the man. your body hovers over his as you give him a lap dance but your warm flesh never touches his, something that clearly adheres to the rules of the establishment you work at. but sugawara is wrapping his hands around your waist, pulling you down to straddle him.
you shake your head quickly, "i can't." but he laughs off your protest, "i'm clothed. you're clothed. we're not doing anything wrong."
and so, you find yourself grinding down on his erection, looping your hands across his neck for support. his erection is needy, you feel is throbbing against your hot core. your panties drench with your essence, even marking his jeans with sinful streaks of translucent lust. you both grind together, panting in each other's mouth as both of you climb your respective highs. you cum, you with a sweet moan and him with a grunt. he wets his pants with his cum, some of it transferring onto your soaked panties as well.
you smile down at him, all cashmere as you grind down on his sensitive shaft, "my, my. when did you get hot, sugawara?"
he grins back, pulling out another another hundred dollar bill, "another round?"
you tuck the bill into your bra again.
✮⋆˙ ryunosuke tanaka!
"stretch. and just breathe." tanaka whispers in your ears, holding your legs apart with one strong hand as another fucks in and out of you. you're pressed, face-first, into the gym wall as your old flame, and current personal trainer presses from behind, fucking his agile fingers deeper into your slippery, sopping pussy.
you throw your head back, clawing at the motivational wall as your moans ring loud in the closed gym. you feel his bruising erection press into your ass as he fastens his pace. his fingers curl and wiggle around your heat, making you lose your balance. trapped, immobile, between his hard body and the wall, you can't help but do anything other than cry out his name.
"ryu- nghhh fuckk-!" you moan as his other hand circles around your clit. your entire body spasms, "fu-fuck... ryu my husband's gonna be here—"
"soon?" he laughs from behind you, your words nothing but fuel for him to fuck you faster. "yeah, i'd have you cummin' again by the time he's even here."
he pulls your face back and plants a sloppy kiss across your lips. you yelp, feeling an violent orgasm brew in your stomach. with stuttering words and half-working braincells, you gulp and ask, "ryu... when did you... get so-so hot?"
"been like this since forever, baby." he laughs breathily against your lips as you feel you husband's car pull into the parking lot, "you're just slow to- hah, catch up."
a.n: NOT PROOFREAD. ALSO PLEASE ignore that all of them have always been hot, okay? enjoy the nasties mwuah mwuah! pshh, requests are open!
old m.list. | new m.list.
I think… maybe none of us are really made only from ourselves.
Like — if I sit down and really think about it, I can trace pieces of myself back to other people. To songs. To moments. To things I loved so deeply they left fingerprints behind.
I am a mosaic of people I’ve met.
Of books that cracked me open and quietly changed me.
Of songs I once played on repeat because they understood something inside me I couldn’t explain myself.
Of people I loved so much it ached.
Of people I lost and still carry anyway.
And I think that’s beautiful. Sad, sometimes. But beautiful.
Because people leave things behind in you. Even unintentionally.
A phrase someone used too often suddenly becomes yours.
A laugh rubs off on you.
A habit.
A way of loving.
A fear.
A softness.
And suddenly you realize… you are made from all the things you touched and all the things that touched you back.
I think humans are kind of like sponges in that way. We absorb each other constantly. Little by little. Slowly. Quietly. Until one day you wake up and realize you are not entirely your own anymore.
You are your mother’s comfort.
Your friend’s humor.
Your father’s anger.
A lover’s favorite song.
A book’s philosophy.
A city you visited once and never emotionally left.
You are all of it at once.
And maybe that’s why I love people so deeply. Because even if they leave… they never really do, do they? They stay in the way you speak, the way you write, the way you look at the world. They become stitched into you permanently.
Like paint on a canvas.
Some people leave tiny strokes. Barely there.
Others cover entire parts of you in color.
And maybe the painting is messy. Maybe some colors clash. Maybe some parts are unfinished or smudged or cracked. But it’s still art. It’s still you.
A mosaic.
A patchwork.
A collection of every beautiful and terrible thing you have ever felt.
And I think there’s something romantic about that.
That even for a moment — even for a heartbeat — love can leave something behind strong enough to become part of who you are forever.
i cannot begin to explain the emotions i feel every day knowing that this post i made in the middle of playing tf2 when i was 16 is going to be the one thing of mine that has made the largest impact on the world by a fucking mile
