#// does that make them any less top of their fields no

[thanatologie]

i'm gonna share a bit of wisdom with you, because this is how i approach writing both my hyper intelligent characters who also happen to be idiots:

you can be super competent in what you do, and still walk into a light pole.

[rolandkaros]

i think the thing that’s silliest about the mandatory 0 rule is how it replaces your worst result- so since iga didn’t lose r1 in any tournaments she did play, she’s losing more points than aryna who lost her first match in dubai. obviously it’s not “unfair” because the players know, it is what it is, but i just think that if the rule rewards or incentivizes (for lack of a better word) tanking… it’s not a good rule. i hope next year they make the requirement 3 or 4 500s because 6 is just absurd for top players who go deep in 1000s and slams lol

I don't think it incentivizes tanking though because the ideal is to not drop any of the 1000 tournaments...if a player doesn't get any mandatory zeros then they hypothetically get to include all of their 1000 results, where it's a lot easier to earn more points than in the 500s. Plus, if Iga had tanked in Miami for example and only gotten 10 points, she still would have lost those 10 points, and ended up at the same point total she's at now – it only seems like she's lost more than Aryna because they've only just now decided to apply the mandatory zeros.

I also think we're not taking into account the fact that these calculations are all made in hindsight. No high-level player is going to roll up to a 1000 tournament and decide to tank for the purpose of having a smaller point total to drop, because a) they're probably not aiming to have any mandatory zeros anyway, and b) they'd much rather replace their current lowest point gain. Aryna was only able to drop Dubai because she performed better in later 1000s. If she had lost first round of Wuhan, for example, she would have had to count one of those +10 values. So, I understand the thought process but I don't think that's actually an issue in practice. The players who actually need to worry about mandatory zeros are never going to settle for early exits anyway.

But I 100% agree, 6 500s is too many, especially considering the 1000s are all mandatory now. Even just the placement of the 500s in the schedule makes it difficult to fit 6 in – players are being forced to commit themselves to long stretches of back to back to back to back tournaments. I think it's also even harder for Iga because it was an Olympic year, so no chance of making DC (and ended up missing Canada as well).

But on a much more serious level I think it's just the scheduling issues, again and again and again. The season is too long, 10 mandatory 1000s and 6 mandatory 500s is ridiculous, the way that the mandatory zeros were applied was weird.

[notaplaceofhonour]

I know it’s an old adage that Jews are the canary in the coalmine and that antisemitism is a sign of a society turning towards bigotry, fascism, & authoritarianism, but I don’t often see people explaining how this works, so let me give you just a couple examples:

Peeling back the layers of this post about Shaq participating in the “Stand Up to All Hate” campaign, what do we have? We have a Jewish philanthropist donating to youth sports programs and organizations that provide assistance for minorities & underserved communities in Israel (including Arabs, Muslims, Palestinians, women in very conservative Jewish communities that may not otherwise have the opportunity, etc.) to enter STEM fields, who runs a series of ad campaigns to encourage people to stand up to not just antisemitism but ALL bigotry. All of this gets cast as being “pro-genocide” somehow.

In the course of casting all of this as sinister & evil, who is affected?

a high-profile Black man is slandered

giving aid to Palestinians in STEM demonized

same with aid to Orthodox Jewish women in STEM

as is giving to children’s sports programs

even THE most milquetoast “don’t sit by idly when people around you are racist, homophobic, exist, etc.” message gets smeared as sinister

Taking a closer look at the rhetoric around “contextualizing” & “explaining” rape as “resistance” in the October 7th attacks, what do we have? A structure for rapists to excuse their violence is created. Jewish & Israeli victims are disbelieved The Palestinians affected by Hamas & similar orgs’ normalization of sexual violence are erased. Palestinians are presented as if they just can’t help raping.

Who is affected:

any violence no matter how depraved against Jews & Israelis is softened & excused

the experience of Jews targeted for sexual violence are sidelined & treated as a “natural” (and thus less awful) consequence of Jews oppressing Palestinians (DARVO)

Palestinian men are subjected to the racism of being treated as rapists by default

Palestinian victims of sexual violence are erased & equated with their abusers; their well-being is further endangered as their perpetrators crimes are softened & denied

rapists in leftist spaces now have a “oh but I couldn’t help it” card in their back pocket they can whip out at any time to dodge responsibility & make leftist spaces even more dangerous for the most vulnerable people there

On top of all of this, you then also have the red yarn “logic” of conspiracism that underlies all of this. Conspiracy theories do not exist in a vacuum; there is an underlying dislogic to them that makes believers in one more likely to believe in another (and another and another). THE best predictor of whether a person will believe a conspiracy theory is that they believe another conspiracy theory.

maybe it’s that this or that is a zionist plot now. but maybe you’ll be more inclined to believe there’s something dangerous about the polio vaccine. to support your fringe position, you need to grab hold of more reasons to bolster your opposition, unspool more red yarn. maybe it causes autism. maybe it makes you gay. nevermind that you just brought polio back too, now you’re trading in bigoted conspiracy narrative about the vaccine.

Maybe it’s not that; maybe it’s something else. But this vacuum of logic demands to be filled, and more often than not it does so by sucking in more and more fringe (and more and more bigoted) conspiracy narratives.

Antisemitism is a backwards logic, a conclusion in search of a reason, that builds itself to accommodate the desire to harm Jews. And as those pathways are built, they are used for a dual purpose to hurt other groups too. They spread out further and further and get used to pop up wherever the illogic of bigotry demands to.

You see this web of dislogic being constructed in the above examples—a sort of impromptu network of tunnels and jerry-rigged offramps that let them go offroading when the normal freeways of logic don’t take them where they want to go. You want to believe Shaq is shifty or the 🟦 is a (((Zionist))) plot? Time to build the path that will get you there. You want to believe October 7th was justified, but it fundamentally opposes every one of your stated values; time to build a new way in.

The main target is still Jews, but the rest of you get the splash damage.

[benkeibear]

『 Yellow 』

☼ synopsis: Your lover gets too rough with you and you have to beg him to slow down - which he does

☼ characters: Geto, Gojo, Toji

☼ wc: 1.0k

☼ cw: gn!reader, afab!reader, overstimulation, spanking, fingering, mentions of bondage and anal fingering, slapping, clit slapping, face fucking, Toji calling reader "doll" and "slut"

☼ notes: just a liddol something while I work on the next fic as promised!! || Sign up for my taglist here

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ Geto:

✧ Geto had you lying beneath him, your knees pressed up to your chest, strong hands making sure you stay in this position as he plowed into you

✧ Your poor cunt was beyond sore from the previous overstimulation he put you through and you weren't sure if you could take it anymore

✧ He angled his hips upwards and freed one of his hands from your thigh to wrap around your throat and that's when you broke

✧ “Y-yellow” you croaked out and he didn't hear you at first so you tried to claw at his hand which made him let go, the pace of his hips not once faltering and it started to become too much

✧ “I said yellow!” You screamed out and Geto immediately pulled out, knowing the traffic light system but you never had to use it

✧ The tears were brimming in your eyes and he gently laid your legs back down before cupping your cheek

✧ “Better? Do you want to stop or go on gently?” He asked caring, a complete switch of attitude

✧ You only shook your head and pulled him back on top of you “don't wanna stop… it was just too much” you whispered and he pushed himself back in, you two laying in missionary

✧ The thrusts of his hips were deep and calculated but held such gentleness behind them that build up another orgasm fast

✧ His hands locked with yours, his gaze watching your features for any hint of pain this time - being rough was fun but only if you felt so too

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ Gojo:

✧ Gojo held you up against the wall, fucking into you like there's no tomorrow, your ass cheeks and thighs almost bruised from how hard he's holding onto them

✧ The occasional slaps that made you yelp brought him joy, mocking the little sounds

✧ But when he turned you around to fuck you in a full Nelson to flex with his his strength and make you watch yourself in the mirror he heard the word

✧ “Yellow… please” you whined and he slowly untangled you from the position without pulling out yet

✧ “Need me to pull out or just slower?” He asked with a grin, watching you as you looked at the image in the mirror, how you were impaled on Gojos cock made you wiggle in his hold

✧ “Nuh-uh. Talk to me, butterfly. Use your pretty mouth” he hummed encouraging, needing you to put an end up this or to tell him to go on

✧ “Slow please. Lay me down” you mumbled, almost embarrassed for having to slow this down since you were the one requesting him to be a little less caring this time

✧ Gojo nodded and pulled out before laying you on the bed onto your stomach, a pillow shoved under your hips “like this?” He asked, letting you decide

✧ You nodded, this empty feeling inside of you driving you insane - needing him, just less rough than before

✧ Goji spread your folds to get a look at your puffy clit before pushing himself back inside, gently rocking into your cunt

✧ Squelching noises filled the room as he kept hitting that spongy spot inside of you with utmost care and perfection it has you moaning his name like a dirty prayer

✧ When his arm wrapped around you to rub your clit with all the slick that's gathered there you made a mess out of the sheets, squirting around his cock that was buried deep inside of you - and he was far from done

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ Toji:

✧ Toji had a field trip with you, tied to the bed on arms and legs, enjoying just how helpless you are as he knelt above your chest, the tip of his thick cock kissing your lips

✧ “Open wide” he hummed and slapped you across the cheek when you refused, knowing nothing is off limits tonight unless you say the safe word

✧ This position didn't satisfy him, turning around to face your cunt now as how dick was pushed carelessly into your mouth until it was nestled in your throat entirely

✧ Toji groaned as he started to thrust into the wetness of your mouth, fucking your face

✧ His hands were busy on your little pussy, rubbing your bundle of nerves and every time you made a sound he would slap it

✧ “Look at you, little slut. Liking when I hit you there, hm?” He teased, his hips stilling for a moment to fully enjoy the way you clench around nothing with each slap

✧ When he had his fill he finally pulled away to let you breathe properly again, untying your legs so he could position you on all four, your head cruelly pushed down to the mattress

✧ It only took him one hard thrust to bottom out, a low moan rumbling through his chest at how tight you feel around him before he started pounding into you harshly

✧ His thumb was gently massaging your puckered hole, ready to push it inside when he heard the cue to take it easy

✧ “Did I hear yellow?” He asked, pulling your head out of the pillows by your hair and you wailed, screaming it again

✧ “Did I break my little doll?” He teased but let you turn around, already knowing how to handle the situation since it happens every other time

✧ “Let me make you feel good, baby. No need to worry. Gonna take care of you” he whispered in your ear, now in missionary with you as he rocked his hips into yours gently

✧ It was fascinating how gentle he could be with you if needed, his hands roaming your body as the tip of his cock kissed your cervix in gentle thrusts, slowly getting you closer to your much needed orgasm

Networks: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @houseofsolisoccasum

[pparadiselost]

could you write sae x reader x shidou? if not, then shidou x reader would be fine

and im absolutely inlove with dacryphilia.. so if you could include that too thanks ^^

deux et trois.

shidou ryusei x fem reader x itoshi sae your wild boyfriend has always been a handful, but him tagteaming you with a rather trusted teammate might be more than you can chew. warning(s): nsfw, dacryphilia, dubcon, exhibitionism, cucking, degradation (from sae) minors do not interact.

dating someone like shidou ryusei feels a lot like a dream come true in the conceptual sense. you could easily imagine a whole plethora of young women who would give up everything they ever knew to date a handsome, successful soccer player like him and to essentially live a guaranteed life of glamor and luxury. and this much was your reality, and it was a fact that you accepted with as much humility and gratitude you could. 

you were never someone who enjoyed letting such superficial things get to your head and pump your ego up; you falling in love with him and him falling in love with you was nothing more than chance, and nothing on the objective level separated you from any other girl in the world. 

and shidou treats you sweetly, a surprising contrast to his maniacal behavior on the playing field. he’s still energetic and gets a kick out of teasing you playfully whenever he gets the chance to, but everything he does shows that he cares for you. perhaps in that way you two are really meant for each other; he would never purposefully do anything to upset you, and everything he involved you with was because he genuinely thought it would be good for you.

his coworkers, be they opponents or teammates, also all treated you with a degree of respect. they were intimidating and constantly raring to go, as if each of them were starved beasts, but they knew that you were simply shidou’s lover but not him himself. you grew accustomed with some of them. isagi sometimes gave you a shy smile and a greeting, igaguri would beg you to tone down your boyfriend to no success, and even the icy rin would peer at you with his cold teal eyes and nod curtly in your direction.

but exceptions were always to be expected.

“hm…,” a callous voice hums to no one in particular from above you. “...i can’t say i knew what to expect from you, but this certainly wasn’t it, little demon. well, i suppose that is my fault for letting you have too much free rein.”

your core burns, and every part of your bare body prickles with heat and shame. you don’t know how this happened or what pieces fell into place to bring you here, but you were here nonetheless. shidou’s dick is stuffed into you, your boyfriend bucking his hips wildly into you while you’re perched helplessly on his lap, and your thighs are spread apart nice and wide to give the other man in the room a perfect view to how shidou’s cock stretches your pussy apart.

you recognize him vaguely. unlike shidou, this man’s face is unreadable and frosty. his jaw is set as if it were carved out of stone, beautiful but unapproachable, and long under eyelashes escort you mockingly upwards to his unimpressed eyes. his irises are the same shade of breathtaking teal that are rin’s, and your stomach flips.

“whaaaaaat, i thought i’d offer you the best!” shidou sings from behind you. you whimper as he leans forward, trapping you in between his arms and his toned chest. “c’mon, why are you acting so shy all of the sudden, sae-chan? if i brought you anything less than acceptable to your impossible standards, you’d call me all sorts of ugly names and kick me out!”

this whole thing is embarrassing. you’re already so shy about having sex with your boyfriend, let alone have sex with him while someone that might as well be a total stranger watch you bouncing on top of shidou’s dick like tomorrow doesn't exist. and you weren’t given much space to hide any of it either. the very instant you’d make an attempt to even close your legs, shidou would be spreading them right apart and bullying his throbbing length into you even deeper, as if to offer your stuffed cunt up to itoshi sae and brag about it to him.

sae frowns, and his pretty lips twist into something that almost looks like a scowl. the temperature in the room feels as if it’s mounting into a dizzying heat but also plunging into an arctic chill between the two men. “but to think you’d bring me your girlfriend… i’d be impressed, if it weren’t for the fact that you brought me such a perverted girl.”

your breath hitches in the back of your throat when he points an insult at you. you’d believe that sae hated you with an unspoken passion if it weren’t for the fact that he was also naked and you could see how his cock was hardening, his dick twitching slightly whenever you glance towards the midfielder with watering eyes and short-lived gasps escaping your mouth. still, his words hurt, and you can feel tears invade the corner of your eyes. you rapidly try to blink them away; you’re already ashamed of the fact that he’s watching you getting railed by shidou, let alone cry like a baby in front of him. 

“‘m not- ‘m not a pervert-,” you somehow manage to choke out, and your chest immediately tightens. you sound more like an out-of-breath porn star than you do the normally sweet and assertive girl that you are, and your gut spasms with shame. fuck, fuck, fuck! this shouldn’t feel good, you really shouldn’t be getting off to something as wicked and shameful as this. but the throbbing in your core tells you otherwise; you’re enjoying being watched as shidou dicks you down mercilessly.

as if on cue, shidou laughs heartily. you grip at his arm when he snakes a hand down to pinch at your clit. heat jolts straight up your pussy, and you let out a strangled cry.

“but isn’t she beautiful, sae-chan? looks like you hit a nerve with what you said to her. she looooooves to act all shy and cute, but i’ll have you know that she’s really fun to play with.” he fucks his cock up harshly into you as if he’s making a point, and you’re practically drooling from the way he forces you to take it, your pliant walls molding to the rough lovemaking he’s showing you, all of the pleasure making you feel lightheaded.

you’re not sure what to do. you feel so good, you love having shidou’s cock inside of you. and the new angle of having him fucking upwards into you makes your pussy drool with anticipating, desperate to cum. you want him all over you: touching your bouncing tits, torturing your clit, making sure your pussy only feels good from having his length inside of you. but as much as you want to lose yourself to this world-shattering pleasure, you can’t really succumb to it because of how hyperaware you are of the little voyeur in front of you. 

sae makes it clear that he’s observing every detail. his eyes glaze all over the curves of your body, and you shudder when he stares right in between your legs, where shidou’s fucking into you. it feels like he’s judging you, like he’s telling you that he clearly has the upper hand in the situation, and that you having sex with your boyfriend only exists for his amusement.

you try your hardest to bite back how much your eyes are watering. but everything feels too good, and you’re quickly crumbling in shidou’s arms. shidou’s doing his best to get you to cum. his mouth sucks all over your neck and leaves open-mouthed kisses on your skin, and you whimper loudly when he bites and sucks on your earlobe.

“n-not there…! please- ryu, i can’t take it! be nice to me… no- gonna cum-,” you moan out. you’re shaking your hips lewdly, and your inner thighs burn. but fuck, you’d be damned if you said shidou wasn’t making you feel good. like the dedicated boyfriend he was, he knew exactly what he needed to do to get you to fall apart. you’re crying out, and there’s a ring of frothy white forming at the base of his cock. his balls twitch under you, and your pussy clenches and tightens up ruthlessly around his girth when you start thinking about having him creampie you.

“gonna cum already? we just got started though! i promised sae-chan such a good show too…” shidou makes an exaggerated kissing noise, and one of his big hands squeezes encouragingly at your hips. sae lets out a quiet huff as if in disagreement, but there’s a few drops of prominent pre-cum that bead at his tip. you’re not sure if sae is a masochist or just downright prideful. probably both, but despite how red and angry his cock looks, he refuses to touch himself to the sight of you.

your vision is hazing over with tears. you really don’t want to cry, don't want to look weak in front of a stranger, don’t want to look like you’re falling apart this quickly. but trying to regain control of your body when so much is happening to you feels impossible, and everything is going to your head. your core is tightening up dangerously, and the pleasure is overwhelming every part of your mind. you whine and whimper, mewling like a wounded animal, and a few scalding hot tears slip past your lashline.

it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“are you… crying?” sae spits out the words as if they’re toxic and bitter in his mouth. you shake your head feebly and try to turn your face away from the redhead, but your body seems to answer instead of your mouth. your pussy clamps down on shidou with renewed vigor, and the boy lets out a gruff “fuck!” through his gritted teeth before laughing loudly and speeding his pace up. 

you hiccup. “no- ‘m not crying- not so fast, ryu, please…! you’ll mess me up, you’ll mess up my pussy if you fuck me like that-!! ah- feels so good- you’ll kill me- i’ll die from having sex with you!”

more tears are streaming down your cheeks, leaving hot trails as they fall. sae’s eyes are blown open wide, and something akin to fear settles deep in your body when you notice how entranced he looks. it’s like he wants to gobble you whole, like a man possessed by something unholy, and you cower against shidou’s chest as if he’s able to provide any protection.

shidou giggles delightedly against your ears. “you’re saying such lewd things… you’re making me really happy, did you know that? yeah? is your boyfriend’s cock making you feel that good? gosh, you’re so naughty… i didn’t know you liked my dick that much.”

you sniffle, suddenly feeling as if all the strength was being sapped from your body. you can barely see as the tears fall freely from your eyes, staining your face. you’re aware of how awful you must look, turning into goo in shidou’s arms as every part of your body shakes. it’s horrible and vulnerable, but at the same time, it turns you on so badly with a high so unexpected that you’re scared you’ll get hooked on it. it’s the kind of pleasure that runs so deep, you know it’s going to ruin you the moment you let it fully take root inside of you.

“gonna cum- please- please, slow down- not so deep, ryu, not so deep! i can’t take it-,” you squeak out. your head lolls back weakly against shidou’s shoulders, and you moan when shidou captures your mouth into a deep kiss. his tongue swirls all around your defenseless mouth, and you sob and cry all throughout the kiss. your pussy won’t quit squeezing and hugging his cock, and being kissed through it only makes you tighten up that much more. 

the friction is just so, so addictive. you want more. you need more. you don’t want anyone else to see you falling apart in such an unglamorous way, fucked dumb and reduced to tears over a man’s dick, but your boyfriend is determined to show you off to his friend and to rip an orgasm out of you one way or the other. 

a strand of saliva clings to shidou’s mouth when he pries his lips off of you, and he glances over at sae with a smug grin. “uh-uh, none of that, babe. i know you can take it, know you can handle my cock. look at you! you’re doing so good… it’s like your pussy wants my cock more than you say you do- don’t lie to me. bet you want me to cum inside you too, fill that pretty hole of yours up with aaaaaaaaaaall of my semen. what do you think, sae-chan?”

“do you think a girl like that deserves it? look at her, crying over something as trivial as this. does the thought of being watched make you want to cry?” sae’s voice is as sharp and cold as ever, and the edge to his words make you sniffle. “what a dirty girl… it makes me almost pity her. almost.”

shidou pretends to pout, and he sticks his tongue out. you moan, your cheeks feeling sticky and hot from all of the dried tears smoothing over your skin. everything feels heavy and good, your pussy being pounded into a senseless mess from how rigorously shidou’s fucking his cock into you. it’s like he’s trying to force more and more of his cock up into your tight hole, attempting to spear himself all the way in until your hips hit the base of his cock, like he wants his tip to pry open your womb and flood you with all of his cum.

“i don’t know what else i expected out of the big meanie sae-chan… well, too bad that i’m the one that’s actually fucking her. you can be mean and awful all you want, but i think i want to cum inside of my girlfriend.” shidou laughs against the shell of your ear. a cold shudder runs down your spine when he nips at your skin again, your neck and face vulnerable to his teeth. “ooh, you’re tightening up against me again…! fuck- so fucking tight- so eager for cock, huh? yeah, i like this side of you sooooo much… you’re just sooooo cute when you can’t resist me!”

you sob openly, not sure who to turn to for help. sae won’t lift a finger, not when his tip is leaking angry pearly white beads of pre-cum and not when he’s more fixated on the fat tears welling at your eyes than anything else. you’re no better than a prey animal when shidou’s like this, determined to creampie you and imprint himself even further onto your pussy. no matter how much you writhe and try to catch a moment to breathe, he pulls you down even further on his cock and sends a jerk of hot pleasure straight up your crotch.

“cumming-,” you choke out, your words slurred out. if you were any more coherent, you’d be embarrassed with yourself for letting another man watch you orgasm this shamelessly on shidou’s cock, thighs pried and held open so that sae doesn’t miss a single detail of your pussy being spread apart and stretched out mercilessly on your boyfriend’s length. “ah- ryu- i can’t hold it in any more… your cock feels- feels too good…! ‘m cumming- ‘m cumming, i’m cumming- fuck- oh- ‘m gonna cum- gonna cum- gonna cum so- sooooo fucking hard…!”

your pussy clamps down like there’s no tomorrow around shidou’s dick when he angles his hips just right and yanks you down as far as he can down onto his lap. you let out a loud cry as heat rips through your body as if you’re made out of nothing. your brain is thrown into overdrive, your nerves and synapses working overtime to flood every inch of your body with pleasure and heat, your stomach furling in on itself almost painfully, pussy gushing lewdly as your juices soak shidou’s cock and your hole spurts and drools out your orgasm.

it’s like something inside of you breaks. sex with shidou always felt good, but something about this felt as if you had crossed a point of no return. you shudder and shake, reeling in the newfound pleasure. it’s like the pulsing nestled deep in your stomach pushes and pulls, like a second heartbeat tugging you downwards. it feels good, it feels so good, and you feel like a broken shell of something that was before, unable to push past the fog in your brain or the haziness in your eyes. 

you can vaguely make out the sound of shidou’s adoring laugh, and you cry out once more when he grinds up against you, rocking his hips into your ass and keeping you stuck down and trapped on his entire length. you’re squeezing him so nicely, your pretty pussy all fluttering and desperate around him, clenching him and milking him despite how shy and insistent you are that you’re above all of this. but you aren’t, and everything in this room knows that.

“hah- ahhh, you’re gonna take it all, aren’t you?” shidou breathes, his voice suddenly high-pitched and tinged with a crazed lust he reserves solely for you. your breath hitches in your throat when he leans towards your face and buries his head into the crook of your neck, and he inhales deep, greedy breaths of your scent. his cock is about to burst, all swollen and thick and wanting nothing more than to stuff every inch of your cunt with his semen. “that’s my girl… take it all! it isn’t meant for anyone else!”

you nearly go limp in his arms when his cum gushes into you. you can feel it shoot straight into your stomach, quite literally flooding what feels like every part of your insides. it’s hot, and it burns. and yet some part of you inwardly croons at how good it feels, like your pussy was made to catch all of shidou’s cum and to store it deep inside, to feel it swirl around you and leak out of your pulsing entrance, dripping down shidou’s engorged length and joining with the rest of the ivory ring built up at the base of his cock from all of your lovejuices mixing with his as he fucked you like an animal gone wild. 

shidou smiles to himself as he lets you sit there, with no choice but to be impaled on his dick, and he makes sure most of his cum is safely lodged deep into your insides before he maneuvers you expertly off of his length. 

you feel weak, and your limbs dangle limply as you slump over onto the mattress. shidou presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head and wipes at your eyelids carefully, and you bite back a shudder when you see him lick your salty tears from his thumb. he looks down at you with a look laced with both love and desire, and you’re brought back to reality.

“i think i’ve given you a good show, sae-chan,” he coos, glancing towards the stoic redhead. “she’s all yours now! don’t have too much fun though, you hear? even though i like you quite a bit, it’ll make me sad to see my girl feeling too good from another guy’s cock.”

“your mind knows no limits,” sae breathes as if he’s annoyed with shidou, but he still steps towards you without any hesitation. you choke back a teary-eyed hiccup as he looms over you, and you let him grab onto your thighs and spread your legs apart. your cunt still feels spent and sticky, and globs of shidou’s pearly white cum drips from your fluttering hole. 

sae’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly. you can’t tell if he likes the sight or not. he slots himself in between your spread legs, and he watches you with his pointed eyes. silently, carefully, like a snake laying in wait in the tall grass waiting for the moment you come down back fully to earth and understand the gravity of the situation you’re in.

your belly coils with the familiar thrums of arousal when his tip prods at your swollen clit. you let out a small gasp as sparks climb up your insides, settling somewhere deep in your stomach. you just had your brains fucked out by your boyfriend, your cunt spread apart by his thick cock, but you want dick inside of you again.

you wiggle your hips, and you think you see the edges of sae’s mouth twitch. he stares at you and the way shidou’s cum leaks out from your pussy and onto the tip of his cock.

“do you want it?” he asks plainly. you nod, knowing he’s going to be mean to you. he seems to get off on it, hurling insults at you and seeing your face stricken with tears. he seems like he’s just about to sneer at you, like he’s disgusted at the fact that he’s even in the same room as you, despite the fact that he’s literally grinding his slick cock against your sensitive folds.

“how awful. begging for another man’s cock right after having sex with your boyfriend… is this a part of some weird perverted fantasy you have? you two are perfect for each other, did you know that?” he clicks his tongue. you shudder uncontrollably. the edge to his words are sharp, and despite bracing yourself for it, you can feel hot tears kissing the corners of your eyes again. it hurts, it laces against your heart, but fuck, you’d be damned if you said it didn’t turn you on a bit.

your tears hang heavy off of your lashes, threatening to drip over your waterline, and for the first time since you’ve bared yourself to the two men, sae’s expression actually softens. you sniff pathetically, unable to form proper words, but he grabs at your hips. he leans in, and you stiffen, unsure whether to avoid him or to let him continue to come closer. you’re mesmerized by how unrealistically beautiful the redhead is: the fiery red strands of his hair are nothing like the icy turquoise of his eyes, and if you weren’t already so overwhelmed with the sensation of having an orgasm ripped from you and another man on top of you, you might have been starstruck truly.

his lips part slightly, and his tongue sneaks out from between. you clench your eyes shut, and something warm laps at your eyes, stealing your tears from your face. 

pressure taps at your cunt, and you let your head go limp as the stretch of penetration slowly grips you all over. you should be tired, should be worn out, but as the dull pleasure flickers inside you again, you find a moan bubbling up in the back of your throat. god, taking dick feels too good for you to ever not want it this badly. whereas shidou is always quick and skilled at drawing out an orgasm from you in record speeds, sae takes his time in penetrating you. it’s like he wants you to feel the stretch, wants you to feel the presence of his cock as he slides himself into you, and while your walls envelop his girth fully, he laps greedily at your heady tears.

“ah- sae…! ah- please- fuck me…,” you choke out. he bottoms out inside of you, and you can feel his balls pressed up against your hole. one hand reaches down, and you clench up around him when two fingers start to slowly rub circles into your puffy clit. it’s simultaneously too much and not enough at once, feeling him play with your clit while not moving his cock. the tender wetness of his tongue gliding over your face makes your head spin, and your pussy won’t stop gripping onto his length.

he breathes over your cheeks, the hot breath leaving you shivering. “dirty girl… who said you can demand things from me like that? shidou might let you get away with things like that because he likes it, but i’m not an easy man like that.”

“please-,” your voice sounds strained and needy, unlike your normally sweet but still firm cadence. “having your cock inside of me feels good- wanna feel more of you, please… please fuck me! i wanna feel you thrusting into me- wanna feel it, wanna have more of your cock inside- please, sae, please…”

“you don’t get to tell me how to move,” he hisses. he throbs and twitches inside you, and you can feel his balls tense up against your ass. but he draws his hips back slowly, giving one slow stroke, and that’s almost enough to make you fall apart. you throw your head back and let out a drawn out whine, your cunt fluttering violently against his swollen cock. he’s being mean to you, he’s being so, so mean to you, but your pussy feels full and good when his dick’s kissing your deepest parts.

if shidou had been pounding into you, sae keeps you begging for more. he treats his dick as if it’s something for you to earn, despite how he grinds upwards into you, the leaking head of his cock pressing straight into what feels like the entrance of your cervix. he keeps degrading you, muttering words that swim straight through your ears, and you keep crying those beautiful pearly tears that mar your vision and stain your cheeks. it drives him crazy, to break down such an innocent, beautiful girl into the worst, senseless version of herself, and he makes sure you know it, feel every second of it.

his pace is a bit faster now, but far from the animalistic sex you need to feed this uncontrollable side of yourself. the sound of your bodies connecting is nothing short of obscene, and sae drinks it all up as if you’ve mixed it personally just for him. you might as well have; you were meant to be offered up to him like some kind of sacrifice on a silver platter from the start, before you were even aware of the predicament you would be in.

“harder- harder- want more- please, fuck me harder…!” you sob pathetically. it’s humiliating, having to beg for a man’s cock in such a demeaning manner. you know words alone can’t convince sae, so you press your aching thighs apart further, using your hands to press them closer to your chest. the change in your position has his cock hitting deeper and more roughly into you, and your moans go from desperate cries to throaty chokes. you feel like you’re suffocating over your own breath, but the way you buck your hips against sae’s proves that there are far more pressing things in your mind than self-preservation. 

sae grits his teeth, and he slams his hips into you. his cock pumps in and out of your greedy hole, and your cunt grips onto him like it doesn’t want to let go. fuck—it almost makes sae mad over how good your body feels, especially after getting what feels like shidou’s sloppy seconds. his abs tense up as he sucks in a deep breath, the focus in his teal eyes starting to shake around the edges.

“thank you- thank you, thank you, thank you-,” you pant out helplessly when the full strokes are finally, finally where you wanted them to be at the start. you shake your head back and forth, entire body trembling and overwhelmed by the pleasure that consumes you. “feels so good- cock feels so good inside of me, sae- want to cum on it… want your cock to make me cum- make me pussy cum…!”

“you really are the worst,” sae laughs. his hair is sticking to his forehead, and despite how awful he is to you, he looks beautiful. “begging for another man’s cock in front of your boyfriend? don’t you have any sense of shame?”

“feels good-,” you weakly choke out, as if that was an excuse. you know shidou doesn’t mind. he was the one to drag you into this mess in the first place. sae really enjoys this farce, this holier-than-thou act, when everyone in the room knows that he’s just as twisted and depraved as you are. it takes two to have sex like this, and you sure as hell aren’t alone. “make me cum- please, i wanna cum…! i’ve been so good for you.”

sae hums to himself. his cock pulses inside of you. your pussy’s just as shameless as your mouth is, milking him every second he stays buried into your hole, and it feels like your inner walls are begging him for his cum too. you must really like being treated like this, your pussy filled up over and over again with cum, not caring if it was your boyfriend or a man that your boyfriend happened to feel comfortable handing you over to. what a greedy girl you were.

“you wanna cum?” he sneers. “do you think you deserve it? all you’ve done is lay there and cry and take my dick. so demanding…”

you shudder, seeing stars. you can feel your orgasm building up and laying in wait deep in your belly, just begging for a few more harsh thrusts to topple you over the edge. shidou had fucked you out so good before, and you needed a taste of that pleasure again. you already felt so good stretched out and humiliated like this on sae’s cock that you could only imagine how much better finally getting your release would feel.

“you’re so mean to me… just wanna cum-,” you sniffle out. your voice wobbles, and sae grunts when a fresh wave of tears threaten to overtake you. it’s embarrassing how a crying girl might be the thing that gets him to snap, so he grits his teeth and bucks his hips harshly into you. 

it’s your fault. all of this is your fault. he can’t admit to himself that this turns him on, that seeing you sob and wail and writhe has him wanting to blow his fat load inside of you. that would be too much for him, to cum inside of you and then have you cry just from the sheer pleasure of it. to take dick so good that it makes you fall apart and bawl senselessly as if you’re his girl, not shidou’s.

“yeah, that’s right-,” he grunts under his breath. “go ahead and cum then. if you really want to end up as a mess on my cock, then i’m not stopping you. make a show for your boyfriend then, huh? let him see you crying and screaming from how good you feel on my dick. you have him to thank for landing you in this position to begin with.”

you swallow back a shaky inhale. your vision had been blurred over a long time ago, but right now, with your entire body weighed down with nonstop arousal, you feel like you’re seeing stars. it feels so good and it hurts, but it hurts in a way that has you moving your hips lewdly and wanting him to stuff your already cumdrenched pussy with his load. 

he thrusts sharply in you. again and again and again, until his entire length is stretching you and bullying your cunt open, his cockhead slamming into your g-spot over and over until the pangs inside of your pussy start pounding against the inside of your skull. your moans are melting away into incoherent slurred noises, barely gasping out his name.

“sae- sae…! ohhhhh, fuck- fuck, so deep- so hard…” your body shakes, and your voice sounds unrecognizable. sae likes this too much, likes seeing how broken you are because of his own machinations. he grits his teeth, the bed shaking and his pace nearly falling apart, his thrusts messy and awful and everything you need.

you cum with a silent cry. your back arches, and your hands scramble to try to grip onto anything to steady yourself. your fingernails dig into your own flesh, your thighs aching and screaming in pain despite the numbing pleasure that crashes entirely over you. fuck, everything feels so fucking good, and your brain feels like it’s melting out of your ears as your orgasm grips every one of your synapses. tears glide down your face without any restraint, and your sobs echo throughout your ears as you turn into a truly fucked out mess.

sae grunts, his own voice low and muffled, when he feels your cunt clamping down on him and a sudden warmth engulfing his whole cock. his self control wavers when he feels you creaming around him, your pussy milking his cock. it’s like your walls are clinging to every inch, every ridge of his length and refusing to let go, pulsing all around him like you want him to unload inside of you and paint your insides completely white again. of course you do, you’ve been begging for it this entire time. being creampied once by your boyfriend isn’t simply enough for you anymore, sae knows, you need him to do it again and to overwhelm you with his twisted desire.

you gasp when he fucks you roughly through your orgasm. it’s almost too much, your stunned cunt keening with overstimulation when the faint sparks start flying again. sae mutters something you can’t quite pick up, and he slams into you hard, enough to have you recoiling backwards.

his cum explodes inside of you as he hangs his head, his breathing unsteady as he stays buried deep inside of you. it’s as if he wants to drown out shidou’s cum with his own, scalding lines of white cum. it’s blasphemous, how good it feels, and if sae wasn’t feeling so out of body right now, he would be mad at the fact that a mere girl—shidou’s girlfriend, no less—could knock him off of his high throne like this.

you don’t get any reprieve from the whole thing. sae yanks himself out of you the moment his grounded rationale seeps back into his brain, and you whimper in protest. your spent hole feels so empty without a cock to stretch you out, but you feel dazed and heavy and warm. their cum mixing together fills you up, and some of it leaks out of you in a lewd rivulet, dripping in such a tantalizing manner down the flesh of your ass.

sae leans over to grip your face harshly, tilting your face so that you meet his eyes. his hold on you tightens to an almost painful extent when he sees the final remnants of your tears swimming in a clear layer over your puffy eyes, the evaporated marks on your damp cheeks, your lashes wet from everything that you had faced. 

you’re pretty, pretty when you’re stained with cum and tears and all of the filth that sae’s dumped onto you.

shidou slinks up behind him with his usual strange smile, and he snakes his arms over sae’s neck from behind. “what a good show, sae-chan! my girl’s amazing, isn’t she? look at her now… ooh, it makes me want to fuck her all over again.”

sae sucks in a deep breath as he watches shidou prance over to you to press a sickly kiss to your forehead, and his adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. shidou peers up at sae as if to mock him when he kisses your eyes, the taste of your salty tears spreading across the inside of his mouth.

it’s irritating. it’s annoying. his cock stirs again, and his lower stomach flares with warmth again.

was this the game shidou had planned from the start? sae didn’t care; the result wouldn’t have changed. the only certain thing now is the way these two men circle you like a pair of vultures descending upon their next meal, the hunger in their eyes primal and filled with an unspoken anticipation. you should be cowering away from the intensity, but you’re right there with them.

shidou giggles as a large hand caresses your bare knee. “that’s a good girl… now that you’ve taken each of us individually and sae-chan’s gotten all nice and warmed up, it’s time to get to the main event, don’t you think?”

“...the way you talk about it like it’s some game makes my skin crawl,” sae’s cold voice sighs. something sticky and hard brushes against your calves when two hands coax your legs open again, and your cunt clenches weakly with arousal, heat licking around your insides shakily. your cunt, still leaking with cum, is bared fully for the two men to enjoy in their own respective ways.

you close your eyes momentarily, your tear-filled vision finally turning to black. 

“ready to take both of us at once?”

if you enjoyed my writing and would like to show appreciation, you can do so by donating to these vetted gofundmes to help families!

[b14augrana]

Hello , can I request barca x teen reader who loves to play prank and is the Clown of the team but is a very good player and Ballon d'or potential

The Fool

Beyond the jester of a girl that taunts her Barcelona teammates with endless pranks is a world class player that shines on the pitch

Barça Femení x teen!reader

masterlist

Warnings: ✖️

A/N: thank you anon for the request! this is kinda messy and a bit short but i think it does the job. im sorry this took so long for me to write, i hope you like it 💝💝

“(Y/N), hijo de puta!” Mapi screams, looking up to see your head sticking out over the top of the shower cubicle, pouring shampoo on her head. For the last 10 minutes, she’s furiously been trying to wash all the shampoo out of her hair, but it just isn’t coming out. Now she realises why.

Mapi grumbles and finally rinses the last of the shampoo out of her hair, cursing you under her breath with the slightest of smiles. You skid out of the locker room, abandoning the shampoo bottle and laughing to yourself in the halls. You can hear Patri’s laughter ringing from the showers as well, and it makes you smile.

Clowning around is your love language… in a way. It’s your form of putting time and energy into something special. To you, laughter is something special, and if you didn’t love your teammates, you wouldn’t be trying so hard to give them something to enjoy.

It’s your natural personality. You’re unserious, always joking around and having fun, and it is only normal for someone your age. As a teenager, all you want to do is have fun while doing what you love most; playing football.

You‘re damn good at both of those things.

El Clásicos are your favourite matchups. Every season, you look forward to it. Since you bleed blaugrana in every shape and form, you feel like it’s your duty to give the Real Madrid back line something to worry about. You want to be the one to sort them out… for the 16th time. Literally.

When you aren’t troubling your teammates with tricks, you’re troubling defenders.

It‘s kinda your thing.

One through ball from Aitana is all it takes. Your legs feel detached from your body, your strikes at the ground uprooting the grass wherever you step.

And the open space ahead is basically beckoning you in to occupy the green void, which you do.

The space beyond is as much of a blessing to you as it is a curse to the likes of Rocio and Andres.

Rocio and Andres should’ve learnt by now that their old school habit of holding you off will never work. You aren’t being stalled, you’re being invited in. The more you threaten them with small feints and sharp movements that make them twitch, the closer they draw you in to the goal until…

That satisfying swish of the net follows the sound of your foot making hard contact with the ball.

Rocio and Andres should’ve learnt by now that their old school habit of holding you off will never work.

You’re good at your position. You take your game seriously. That’s what surprises everyone the most.

Off the field, you’re regarded as ‘el embaucadora’, the trickster. You’re always pulling pranks, making jokes, finding fun in everything or making it yourself.

Even on the field, you’re no less of a trickster, but it’s less of the pranks and more of your deceptive play style and ability to make defenders dance.

When you play, you perform. To you, any pitch lit up by lights is a place in which your playing becomes poetry with the opportunity to engrave itself in the essence of the stadium, becoming your legacy.

The whistle blows, and you’re off again. The ball finds you again and it feels so right at your feet that every moment feels like you’re on autopilot.

And it finds the goal too fast for you to enjoy, because before you know it you’re walking off the pitch feeling uncomfortably sweaty beyond the swell of victory in your heart.

Alexia looks at you from a distance, the hints of a smile visible on her face, because she knows where hypnotising flair like yours gets you.

Somewhere in France, perhaps?

[enigmatist17]

I've never written Deadlock before, but RatchLock(?) in the Mecha Pilot Jazz Au by @keferon has me by the throat bc Ratchet is my #1 babygirl of All Time ❤️❤️❤️

My other fics I've done in said AU 1 2

---

Ratchet was old.

Sure, he still had a good 50 to 60 years left in him, but hoy boy he was old. He knows most of that "aging" happened when he worked with the mecha program, and while it had been the highlight of his life, the dark road they had started to turn down wasn't for him.

Pilots dying in dozens from all sorts of ways, the worst being the degradation of their minds from the very machine used to defend humanity

Bright-eyed rookies turning hollow and their spark burned out, most leaving with eyes unseeing inside the same black bag.

Demands for more, demands to integrate human and machine, demands to take away their humanity to win

Demands that still haunt his dreams, especially when old superiors ambush him with a gaggle of his new students and interns in his tow.

His town, dammit!

Most of them watch Ratchet spend the rest of the day cursing up a storm that could make any sailor blush while slamming things down, everyone escaping when he eventually made a vague motion to the door. He goes for his bottle of whiskey once he makes sure the last student drives off with some friends, taking a seat in the middle of the shop floor as he pours himself a generous glass, setting the bottle by the side of his chair.

"Does Ratty have all his toys away~?"

"For now." Ratchet rolled his eyes as he took a sip, able to hear the bay door behind his chair rattle before opening with a slight screech. To a normal person, the sight of what appeared to be an unpiloted mecha slipping into some random repair shop would have caused a bit of a ruckus, but Ratchet is unbothered as he takes another sip of his drink. "Make sure you close the door this time."

"I leave it open one time." The mecha scoffs, glowing red eyes cycling in exasperation as the bay door is closed with a slight tug, the loud crash of metal on concrete making the human in the room pinch the bridge of his nose. "Oops."

"If I had a wrench within reaching distance..." The mecha grins as it crosses the shop floor, unapologetic as they sit on the floor across from the bioengineer. "Any luck today?"

"I was able to take out two scouts, should give me enough energon for a few cycles." Ratchet watches as two glowing cubes are pulled out from a seemingly endless storage space inside one arm, shown off before they're placed back inside. "I've survived off less."

"I'm still working on a synthetic version, but no luck." A flicker of regret crosses Ratchet's face, and the mecha reaches over to poke the top of his head. "Hard to create an alien food source, apparently."

"You're still trying, I'll take that." The mecha croons, glowing eyes watching Ratchet take another sip with a sort of purring noise.

No, not a mecha, an honest-to-god alien known as a Cybertronian.

"You seem upset." While the strange organics lacked an EMF field, Deadlock didn't need one to see the annoyance in those pretty optics of his human.

"Just some of the usual bullshit." Deadlock raised an optic ridge and stared, his ornery human staring right back with a scowl. "Got somethin' on my face?"

"You don't get this grumpy over the "usual" bullshit." Deadlock leaned forward with a slight tilt of his helm, the low rumble of his engine getting the other to relax just enough to consider it a victory. "Ratty~"

"Stop calling me that, my name is Ratchet." The Cybertronian only grins, reaching forward to poke the man in his chest.

"I don't like you being upset." Metal that should not be that expressive molds into a pout that would rival his little niece, and had he not seen Deadlock rip out a part of one of the alien threats (Quintesson he's been told) with those sharp teeth, he might find it cute.

.....

Fuck

"Some of those government fucks showed up in front of my people, wanted me to just leave and go back to all of....that." The whiskey is drained, and Ratchet leans over to grab the bottle. "It's one thing to harass me over the phone, but the street? In front of my kids? They can fuck right off with that." The glass is filled again, and the two sit in silence as he slowly drinks, looking at the floor with his brows furrowed. "I can't go back to that, no matter how much that would help out my....project."

"Aw, I'm a project now?" Deadlock cooed, a clawed digit gently caressing the side of Ratchet's face with as much care as he could muster. "I got an upgrade~"

"You're a disaster." Ratchet rolled his eyes, but otherwise didn't move as he listened to the (begrudgingly) familiar cadence of Deadlock's systems. While he could be as silent as the grave, Ratchet was pretty sure he was some sort of spy or assassin of some kind despite any questions getting the brush off, the alien mech had adopted the practice of allowing his natural ambient noise to become noticeable.

Just for his human, one of many things he'd adopted for his savior-turned-object of affection.

"Would you like for me to kill them?" Deadlock purrs when Ratchet raises an eyebrow, taking in the warmth against his digit. "I could make it look like an accident~"

"Like hell you will, that'll just get more eyes on me."

"Are you sure? Didn't sound like you were all that upset by the idea Ratty."

"Yes I am...though if they approach me in public again, maybe you could cause an accident or something, as a treat."

"Oh you do spoil me~!"

[elfwreck]

I have a friend who isn't anti-porn but it makes her sad that fanfic has a reputation for being porny and usually not very good. I'm fine with both those things and my views mostly align with that of AO3. I disagree with the idea that porn and badness are treated as equivalent, but for most people that's just how they think. But I was wondering if youve ever written something about this?

There is a lot of smut at AO3.

There is a lot of bad writing at AO3.

There's a lot of badly written smut at AO3.

...None of those are problems except for the people who think there is something wrong with those existing, or that there needs to be some external value that "balances" those that make those acceptable to exist as unwanted side-effects of "the good stuff."

The badly-written smut is also "the good stuff."

It's part of the reason AO3 exists. It's not intended to be an archive for "the high-quality fanfic that could be published if it weren't about characters that someone else wrote first"; it's an archive for "what fanfic writers want to write." That makes the terrible writing and the tacky porn and the badly-written tacky porn part of the reason the archive exists.

Tangent 1 (I'll connect these points later): Theodore Sturgeon said "90% of everything is crud." He was more-or-less referring to the science fiction field in the 50s, but it definitely extended to politics, business, and writing outside of science fiction.

...He was talking about published books in the 50s. Turns out, a lot more than 90% of writing is crud when there aren't any gatekeepers between it and the readers. But also:

Tangent 2, from the book "Art and Fear":

[A] ceramics teacher announced on opening day that he was dividing the class into two groups. All those on the left side of the studio, he said, would be graded solely on the quantity of work they produced, all those on the right solely on its quality. His procedure was simple: on the final day of class he would bring in his bathroom scales and weigh the work of the “quantity” group: fifty pound of pots rated an “A”, forty pounds a “B”, and so on. Those being graded on “quality”, however, needed to produce only one pot — albeit a perfect one — to get an “A”. Well, came grading time and a curious fact emerged: the works of highest quality were all produced by the group being graded for quantity. It seems that while the “quantity” group was busily churning out piles of work – and learning from their mistakes — the “quality” group had sat theorizing about perfection, and in the end had little more to show for their efforts than grandiose theories and a pile of dead clay.

You don't get to "quality writing" without going through a lot of crappy writing.

That doesn't mean the crappy writing is garbage to be thrown out. If you make 50 pots or bowls or vases, and only one of them is The Good One... most of the rest are okay. Maybe not sale-quality good, but your-kitchen-table quality good. Maybe some aren't that good and are kids-toy-in-the-sandbox level good.

Bad writing has a purpose for the writer: they can use it as practice to get better. It has a purpose for the reader: It can serve as inspiration ("I can do better than that") or grammatical instruction ("that...does not work; why doesn't that work?") or just as entertainment ("eh, so it's missing a few commas; I can still understand it").

Smut and porn writing works the same way. It's of some value to the writer, and some to the readers.

It's not of value to everyone. That's what tags and filters are for, and why there's a summary and list of stats (like word counts)--so you can figure out if you're one of the readers for whom this piece of writing is useful or interesting.

But AO3, like any library, is not there to take the top 5% of Excellent Writing and provide it a showcase. It is absolutely for all 50 lbs of pots.

If your friend wants to read the good stuff, there are rec lists and collections to help her find it.

If she already manages that, and is just annoyed at how much of the not-good stuff (however she defines that) exists... she's picked the wrong battle. She's arguing with the ocean that it has too many kinds of fish and some are poisonous a lot of them are ugly.

[trashogram]

He Chose You (P. 4)

Lucifer/Reader - Lucifer picks you to be his baby mama. Rated E

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

You’re resting against the trunk of a tree at the top of a little hill.

It’s picturesque — the hill is gentle, sloping down to a field of tall yellow-green grass. You can smell it, wafting up with the pollen from golden flowers. The sky above is alive with pinks and oranges bleeding into yellows and whites. A symphony of coos, chirps and pitter-patters of tiny things skittering around have an oddly calming effect as you settle back and allow yourself to exist. 

Eyes closed, you hear the sound of something larger than a mouse rounding the tree trunk. 

“I got it!” A feminine voice breaks the calm.

You don’t have to look to feel the other person at your side. They lower themselves to the ground, knees brushing against yours when they cross their legs to sit next to you. 

You don’t have to look, but you do. 

There’s a woman with you now, with hair so long and blonde it’s almost white. Her chin, lips, nose, and eyes are delicate and soft.

She’s not wearing any clothes, and you can see faint scars and wrinkles against the uninterrupted expanse of her skin. 

“It’s so pretty, I’ve never seen one so red.” The woman is happy to see you, speaking with all the familiarity of a sister. 

She presents an apple to you, taken from behind her back like a surprise. 

It is red. Red like an oversized ruby, or a still-beating heart full of blood. All except for the missing chunk made by delicate teeth, yellow-white meat peeking through.

You accept her offering without a word. Even when it’s imperfect, you’re mesmerized by the fruit.

“I took a bite. I’m sorry.” She gazes at you, eyes flinty. “Does that bother you?”

You shake your head vehemently, holding the apple between your hands as if it’s the most precious thing in the world. “No, of course not.”  

The woman’s lips quirk up into a satisfied smile, growing bigger when you lift the apple to your mouth and bite into it. The taste is extraordinary — sweet juice bursts against your tongue when the crisp flesh gives under your teeth with barely any resistance.

You savor the first bite out of necessity but soon you’re ravenous. You can’t get enough. 

Your companion exhales gently through her nose and looks up at the colorful sky. She seems to relish in the breeze that passes by, making the leaves above you rustle and the tall grass ahead blow back quietly. 

The apple is almost gone when she looks back at you, teeth showing as she grins. “Careful there!”

She giggles, reaching out to tap the hand of your hand in warning. It’s all playful, even when you pout and draw back. 

“You’ll eat the seeds if you keep that up.” She says. “Something might take root and grow if you do.” 

Her words give you pause, but only for the length of four or five heartbeats. The core of the apple is no less refreshing and before you know it, you’re holding the stem. 

“Thank you.” You tell her earnestly. 

The stem rolls in your palm, until it appears to wiggle and your brow furrows. In the back of your mind, you think you should be more startled to see it moving on its own. But when it grows pink-gray and ringed, and you realize it’s a worm, you simply place the flat of your hand on the ground below and watch it find its way into the dirt. 

Sudden warmth against your cheek has you looking back up. The woman is inches from your face. Her eyelashes are dark and long and you could count them if you wanted. 

The woman kisses you without a word, hands coming up to cup the back of your head. Surprise does spark up your spine as her tongue darts behind your lips. It’s as if she’s drinking deeply from you before she lets go. 

“Forgive me. I wanted another taste.” She giggles again. “It’s even sweeter than I remember.” 

Your face burns. You open your mouth, ready to ask the questions burning the tip of your tongue before the thud of footsteps sound from behind you. 

She frowns, light leaving her eyes as she glances behind your shoulder. “Oh I was hoping we’d have more time.” 

Her eyes cut across to yours. “Wake up before he sees you!”

———

A wave of pure, unadulterated nausea swept over you as soon as you opened your eyes. You laid still for a long moment, trying to reign in the urge to vomit before you deemed it safe enough to observe your surroundings. 

A vague sense of confusion surfaced through the malaise when you realized that you were in your living room. There was a carmine blanket tucked around you, and with moderate difficulty you raised your head to see that, yes, a fluffy pillow was resting under your head.

Your reality conflicted with the still-present smell of tall, wet grass and a chill from the summer breeze against your skin.

With ridiculous care, you turned your head back into the pillow and muffled a whine. You couldn’t recall feeling a hangover of this caliber ever before in your life.

‘Wait.’

You weren’t hungover. Well, maybe you were but not from alcohol. 

Your neighbors had invited you to dinner, then drugged you. 

Already sick, you forced yourself to breathe deeply before shifting on the couch and pulling up the blanket. Despite confirming that your body was still clothed, you found yourself shaking. 

It didn’t make sense to you how anyone could do this regardless of their intentions. You could not fathom why two people willing to harm you in one way hadn’t done more than that. 

Your relief was short-lived, as dull and diluted as it was, when you twisted to lay back down and came face-to-face with:

A black glove, some aspirin and a glass of water sat on your coffee table.

You blinked rapidly.

There was a small business card in stark contrast to the otherwise colorless ensemble. It was thick stock, white, and flashing fancy golden script:

Lucifer Morningstar

Your stomach dropped as an unnaturally white face with glowing yellow and red eyes flashed in your mind. 

The hallucination you’d seen last night — his image faded from your mind and you were left drifting in a blank, black void. 

No thoughts. 

———

The headache and nausea were considerably lesser when you woke up again. 

Looking at the items on your coffee table — ‘glove, aspirin, water still there’ — you looked at each one and for one, strangely hopeful moment you didn’t see a card. 

Oh no, it had just fallen on the floor. 

———

Lucifer Morningstar 

It was an odd business card, with its little red, white and gold designs on the edges. Fireworks, you eventually guessed. The ‘i’ in both first and last name were punctuated with them as well. 

As you’d popped the aspirin in your mouth and downed the water, you flipped the card over. You could feel your eyebrows rising to your hairline at the hastily written message on the back:

Proof you weren’t dreaming. 

Please Call Me

1-666-666-6669

Pacing was out of the question. Your limbs were still unsteady no matter how much you willed them to function. 

You were trapped on the couch trying to accept what your brain had been screaming at you since you awoke for the fifth time. 

How much time had passed? 

                                      Heaven and Hell were real, and so were God and the Devil. 

            And the Devil had paid you a visit. 

———

The indent you’d made into your stupid, hand-me-down sofa was probably permanent now that you’d spent who knows how long just rotting there. 

Contemplating, processing, fearing. 

Fleeting memories of tantrums you���d thrown as a child paralyzed you. Moments in your life that you’d already regretted so much they kept you up some nights — randomly, provoked by nothing — piled up in your brain. Each one harshened that sinking feeling inside your body. This kind of horror was the kind a person feels right before they die. 

How long have you been judged from above for your wrongs?

Were you already doomed to Hell? Is that why Lucifer himself wanted ‘to meet’ you? Did he make it a personal habit to visit each lowly sinner and taunt them?

God was real, so did everything actually happen for a reason like so many said? 

Why did bad things happen to good people? 

Was your dog in heaven, waiting for you and you’d already disappointed her by getting a one way ticket in the opposite direction?

———

You figured out that the ringing in your ears was actually your phone’s alarm when the natural lighting in your apartment was almost gone. 

You managed to get to it on the other side of the room half-stumbling from your seat. 

“Hello?” You rasped.

“… So you finally decided to answer your phone.”

———

It took you banging on the door and shouting against its old, glossy surface before Cass Farrow cracked it open. 

A myriad of expressions crossed her painted face before she opened the door fully. When she faced you, she smiled. 

“Honey! It’s been days! We didn’t wanna bother you but we were worried! It’s good to see you up and about!” 

The way she acted, as if nothing was wrong, as if the world had turned upside down, had you balling up your fists. Your ragged nails delved into the skin so deeply you could feel the sting of blood.

“I-I need…” You couldn’t stop the copper taste of saliva filling your mouth. 

You would not throw up. “I need to speak to your boss.”

Cass blinked owlishly at that. “My what?”

‘Why? Why? Why are you shocked?’ You shouted in your mind.

“Oh honey,” The low tone did nothing to soothe you, only raise your ire. “I don’t know what —” 

“The Devil!” Your raised voice made the elderly woman jump. “Or Lucifer, or Baphomet — whatever the fuck you call him! I need to talk to him.” 

You scrambled to grab the business card you’d stashed in your pocket. 

“You had him in your apartment, so I know he’s in there somewhere.” You said while waving it in Cass’s face frantically. 

It was deja vú when Mrs. Farrow eyed the card and her face paled considerably. 

“Oh.” 

———

Lucifer wasn’t ‘home’. At least, he wasn’t in his personal Airbnb via the Farrow residence. 

However, Cass waved it away. “He’ll think it’s you or about you or something to do with you and come running.”

Trying to push yourself and demand she tell you more proved to be too difficult. All you could do is stand with your arms crossed, waiting while the (clearly practiced) worshiper combined a series of dried plants in her hands. 

Cass gathered them up and laid them carefully on a side table before fiddling with the furnace and a long lighted match.  

The fire blazed to life instantly from the little flicker it had begun as when Cass threw the plants in. It rose higher, and higher, until it had disappeared past where you could see behind the lintel. 

You had it in you to be stunned when Lucifer appeared from out of those flames. He was perfectly pristine and intact when he stepped out, hunching slightly to avoid his top hat bumping into the smoke chamber. 

The devil was as you remembered him, but also worse in that you couldn’t reassure yourself that his visage was merely a product of your fucked up, overly-imaginative little brain. 

He was so… white.

His skin was practically blinding as freshly-painted walls hit by a sunbeam. 

Lucifer stepped into the room with a flourish. “I came as soon as I coul-”

‘Fuck.’ You’d been spotted. 

And there went Cass, out of the living room to hide away in her smelly kitchen. 

“You’re here!” Lucifer cajoled, theatrics on full display as he beheld your presence. 

The top hat came off, held in his hands as he graced you with a bashful smile like he was some gentleman caller and not Not-Satan. 

“I-I didn’t expect to see you here waiting! But I’m so glad you are. Did you get my card? I thought about just leaving the glove because the card can seem so impersonal —”

“I just got fired.” You blurted out. 

The unusually flat face contorted into an anguished expression. “You… you lost your job…?”

“Because of you.” 

“B-because of me ?!” His already youthful tenor of a  voice raised some octaves. “What —”

You pointed a finger in his direction. “Yes! You !”

“You appeared out of nowhere and fucked up my entire worldview. I've had existential crisis-es… cris-ies? I don’t fucking — I’ve had life-altering spirals before but that was fucking nothing compared with this!” 

“And now I’m out of a job and I’m alone in a city I don’t fucking know with cult-worshipping neighbors because I can’t go back to where I was and you’re just standing here like you have no idea why I’m upset!” 

You hadn’t expected to get this far. You hadn’t expected to go on a tirade at all, really. Distantly you felt tears sliding down your cheeks and the frantic beat of your heart in your ribcage. 

Shame, guilt and fear began toiling deep inside you. 

Lucifer had been backed against the wall, hands raised placatingly and expression mirroring your own internal panic. It quickly turned into concern as he took in your sorry state of being. 

“Please, no.” He reached out for you and you retaliated by jolting out of reach. “Oh please don’t… I’m sorry. I'm so sorry. I never… if I’d known…”

He was reaching into his coat and pulling something out before your sight cleared. It was a handkerchief with the red moniker L.M. on one corner. 

The King held it out to you like a peace offering. Or a white flag.

The force with which you snatched it out of his hands was unnecessary but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“You said you picked me. What did you mean by that?” You mumbled into the handkerchief. 

Lucifer’s mouth screwed up into a frown, brow creasing. “We don’t have to talk about that —”

“No.” You made eye contact, watching him squirm. “We need to talk about it. Explain it. Now.”

“Ahh… ok, yes, um…” He fiddled with the bow tie at his collar. “Well, like I said before, I wanted to wait until we got to know each other because… because it’s kind of a big deal.” 

Your stern frown implored him to continue.

Lucifer winced. “It’s sort of a-a favor I wanted to ask of you. And I thought that if we talked about it over time maybe it wouldn’t sound so monumental… but actually, now…”

The fidgeting worsened, and his nimble fingers had graduated to fussing with the clasps down his front. Eventually, Lucifer yanked his jacket down to straighten it. 

“So, I’ve been around for a really, really, really, really long time.” The Devil started. “And I’ve kind of been on my own for *like* ever and that’s fine, whatever, can’t complain. Normally it’s all about warding off boredom.

“But! Lately, it’s been harder and harder to just —” He made a fist and punched down onto the palm of his other hand to elucidate. “— Just, ahh, not be bored? I guess?”

“And it’s been interfering with all the shit I gotta do. I mean I have no-oo motivation, none at all, and it’s becoming a big problem. The other Sins have actually noticed. Like Satan? You know, we talked about him when we met — yeah, he came up to me not too long ago, saying —”

Your heart stopped as Lucifer’s eyes went completely red, blazing in his skull like magma and accompanied by long horns protruding from his head. 

His voice took on an unearthly, gravelly quality as he, presumably, mimicked Satan: 

“‘We’re worried for you, man. Ozzie says you haven’t been returning his calls. Levi and Bee miss you on their outings but you always say you’re busy. Whatever’s going on, you know you can talk to us, right?’”

Lucifer was back to normal in a millisecond. “And I do know that. I do! But as much as I wanna take them up on it, I just feel like none of them will really understand what’s wrong. I don’t even understand it. Or at least I didn’t until it came to me out of nowhere, like lightning.” 

He mimed being zapped in the head.

“Visits and parties with my brothers are fun and all, but they end... And I find myself all alone more often than not.”

Lucifer sighed deeply. 

“I don’t really have anything to live for,” He stressed. “Except for myself and…” 

“That’s not much.” He snickered mirthlessly. 

You swallowed. The anger, frustration, exhaustion and still-present fear were blanketed by an uncomfortable bout of sympathy. 

Sympathy for the Devil. 

‘Oh shut the fuck up you.’

“Don’t you live for the suffering of mankind or something?” You sniffled, trying to regain your metaphorical footing in the conversation and, in turn, regenerate that anger you’d been consumed by not a minute ago. 

Lucifer looked from the ground to you, the gleam in his cherry-red eyes fighting to come back to life.

“Aha! No, no. That’s-that’s a Bible thing, right?” He groaned, pulling down the brim of his hat in exasperation. “Ugh, I still don’t know why Heaven insists on that overblown press kit! It’s so fucking old! And inaccurate!” 

Lucifer commiserated with you. “Too much involvement from human hands, too. Ya know? I mean people use it to justify some of the most insane shit I’ve ever seen!”

He cleared his throat at your blank expression. 

“Anywho-oo. What was the question again? Oh! Oh, do I live for the suffering of man — no! No, I don’t. In fact, where I’m from? Being in the middle of that suffering shtick gets old real fast. I’ve stayed away from it for a good while now and really I’ve never been better.”

The blond topped off his statement with a smile, showing those razor teeth while also trying to come across as easy-going and candid. 

A beat passed, in which you felt your lips form a thin line. 

You couldn’t stop yourself. 

You snorted. 

Lucifer looked at you as if you’d lost your head as your snorts turned into full-blown laughter. Until he, of course, wanted to fit in like he knew exactly what was going on. 

“Hahaha, yeah…” Hell’s king chuckled nervously. “I am pretty funny, aren’t I? Ha ha… ha.”

 Shaking your head ‘no’, you tried to reign in the body spasms. 

“So when you say you ‘picked me’, you mean you want me to… what? Be your therapist?” You asked. “The Devil needs a friend’s shoulder to cry on? What?” 

Lucifer fixed you with the first look of genuine annoyance you’d seen (directed at you) from him. 

“No.” He harrumphed. “I need a baby.” 

*

Tag List: @crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch, @charliecharlie65, @sockgoblin, @cocomollo, @caniseethefourthsword, @squeegeeclean, @crow-twink, @an-emovision

I'm so sorry if I missed anyone who asked to be tagged! I'm having a hard time keeping track.

[cloudedmoonofficial]

Forestleaf - Field Colony Second

Mate: Hazelfur, the Reliable Earth

Kitten: Whitebelly

Grandkitten: Spottedshadow

There’s only room for one cat on the top. And one day it will be me…

Critical to a fault. Strict enforcer of Hazelfur’s will. Harsher still to any cat who crosses her. Forestleaf commands her colony with little tolerance for ‘less than perfect’. Most cats can avoid her wrath by just keeping their heads down and doing as she asks. But when cats as stubborn as Forestleaf dare stand their ground, or even drag their feet, they will quickly find Forestleaf’s ire. And Forestleaf’s ire has been known to make or break cats.

Rumors of Forestleaf’s absolute grip over the colony have led to many rumors. Did Forestleaf scare off her own New-Claw? Did Forestleaf insist on Missingfoot’s punishment? Did Forestleaf fight the Riverland Captain Rainfall from Field Colony all by herself? Is Forestleaf the reason Hazelfur is always sick? Does Forestleaf not want certain cats to go to the Moonlight Gathering?

Forestleaf overhears these rumors, but never humors them. No cat would dare directly question her about them. She knows her duties. Other cats are soft, but Forestleaf see’s herself as the rock Field Colony can depend on.

[tigreblvnc]

NSFW BLUE LOCK MATCHUP EXCHANGE — @o-sachi / @chimi-cheese-fries

— Karasu Tabito

✦ What attracts him? Strong-willed individuals who destabilize his judgment and paralyze him on the spot. It means he can’t anticipate your movements or read what you’re thinking.

✦ Typically, any behavior that can send his incisive sarcasm packing.

✦ In fact: the more you push him away, the more you resist… the more he falls under your spell.

✦ And the more he will persist in wanting to learn about you, analyze, understand.

✦ Sometimes, there are things that the mind alone can’t grasp. It requires the physical.

✦ It needs… something that’s not given to everyone.

✦ I swear, the guy has gone to great lengths just to have the right to give you even a caress on the cheek. He’s even become shy, that’s saying something. Him, Karasu, the great assassin on the grass. Reduced to a little bird who doesn’t know anything.

✦ It’s not entirely true. The crow knows what to do once back at the nest.

✦ And in his own particular way, he knows how to take care of someone he loves. It’s just that before you, he didn’t do it often.

✦ But, well. Sarcasm has no impact on you. He’s understood that being sincere is the only way to earn his place by your side.

✦ The fact that you’re particularly difficult and demanding to satisfy represents the greatest challenge in the world for him.

✦ He appears calm in the middle of the grass, but once the door is closed, it’s another story, and you can see how excited the guy is.

✦ Experienced, and it shows, it’s felt. That said, he’s pointed out to you (and it’s almost a privilege given his proud nature) that with you, he feels like he’s losing all his skills. The need to please you above all else sometimes makes him less confident; he takes the time to stop along the way to look up at you and seek your reaction.

✦ He finds comfort in your kisses, your hands in his hair, still full of gel. You enjoy messing up those too-well-styled strands. You savor it because Karasu would never let anyone undo what he spends so much time styling every morning.

✦ Not rough, but in a hurry. And sometimes, in his eagerness, he can forget some manners.

✦ It has happened a few times that he takes you with too little preparation. So he always has to wait for your warm walls to get used to his invasive presence.

✦ Meanwhile, Karasu lies on top of you, breathing frenetically, his sex nestled and impatient. But as long as you don’t give the go-ahead, the assassin won’t move.

✦ And he aims well, this killer. He always knows how to find the most sensitive spot, directing the head of his pleasure there to shake you on the table or against the wall.

✦ He doesn’t care where you do it: as long as you do it.

✦ Quickies between two football sessions.

✦ He loves doing it on the roof against the fence. In the car coming back from the restaurant. The panic of being spotted by passersby, but continuing anyway. In the shower, against the wall.

✦ A fantasy? Doing it quickly in the elevator as the next stop approaches.

✦ A beast at cunnilingus. His precision is incredible, the tip of his tongue: merciless. Just like when he’s on the field, he targets with accuracy and harasses your bud until you’re trembling uncontrollably.

✦ He doesn’t necessarily stop for that. He loves seeing you squirm in every direction and beg him to stop…

✦ And he likes to grab your wrists and throw them over your head, kiss you and penetrate you at the same time, your bodies bumping against the headboard.

✦ "Does it feel good, babe?"

✦ In your moments of ardor, he sometimes scratches the skin of your thighs while holding them. He seems to regret marking you but can’t help feeling a certain satisfaction in marking his territory on your skin when you’re in public. It’s his personal way of letting others know that you belong to him.

✦ He loves when you can’t move and are at his mercy.

✦ His favorite spots to bite? Jugular, thighs, and under your lower abdomen.

✦ He adores your stomach. He often falls asleep there after making love. All your romantic dinners and picnics always end with sensual caresses under the table or under your dress.

✦ He can spend entire hours on foreplay, and in those moments, your good boy likes to disobey all your requests to prolong the pleasure without ever reaching orgasm. Quiet, he tends to stifle all his moans on your skin or in the sheets. And if he knows how to control himself throughout: it’s because he can’t hold back his moans once hit by orgasm. At that point, the whole house hears him.

✦ Sometimes, a window is left open, and the outside world can hear the pleasure that is devouring your insides…

✦ He blushes because he finds his way of climaxing really too loud.

✦ A detail that amazes him: when your thighs close around his cock because his size is always too big for you.

✦ He remains inside you even after he cums. He falls asleep like that because it keeps him warm, he feels at home.

✦ His rare moments of patience are dedicated to accompanying you when you want to try a new position with him. He knows it so well, it’s almost dramatic, and at the same time, the fact that he knows exactly how to position you and use the furniture around you to create the best possible conditions is profoundly seductive.

✦ What he refuses to admit? He fantasizes about seeing you dominate him and ride him. Seeing you lead, impose your rhythm, and prevent him from climaxing. Even forbidding him to do so unless you’ve given the green light. Simply being under your command. After all, Mr. likes strong-willed people. Those who resist, silence him.

✦ He’ll hit the ceiling the day you tell him you want to try more extreme things.

✦ Not that the guy is eager to tie you up everywhere, but… It’s a way for him to regain some control when he’s definitely lost the upper hand with you.

✦ A mix of passionate tenderness and raw honesty. Never mean; he has a principle of refraining from any action that isn’t desired.

✦ Always thinking of you even at Blue Lock.

✦ He has an entire folder of photos of your nudes well hidden on his phone, and damn, he missed them when he was deprived of them upon entering the complex!

✦ The option to "get your phone back" was his first choice when he was finally able to start exchanging his points thanks to scoring goals.

✦ My God, that man jerked off looking at the pictures you left him before you left.

✦ "I missed you so much, baby. Fuck, I came four times in a row."

✦ But the crow still has reserves, and expect him to come looking for you as soon as he gets out of the block.

✦ He’s not the most expressive boyfriend in public, you know, but he furrows his brows as soon as someone gets too close to you.

✦ At that moment, the assassin suddenly becomes very possessive.

✦ He’s the type to make a darkly sarcastic comment when something bothers him because the crow is too proud to say things clearly.

✦ But he always feels guilty about being jealous and apologizes to you.

✦ "What would you like tonight?"

✦ His tactic? Generally, a restaurant and a nighttime stroll by the canal. You know perfectly well that such evenings always end with fireworks in bed.

✦ Incisive on the field and persistent… that’s what others know about him.

✦ But they don’t know that once he’s with you, he turns into someone else.

✦ As I said, he’s not rough but not completely shy either, far from it.

✦ Except that your well-being is of utmost importance to him; he constantly seeks your gaze to check if you’re okay. If he can continue. How you'd like him to do.

✦ For example, on days when you come back exhausted from work. He quickly understands how he can help you unwind.

✦ Silent, he slips behind you to wrap his arms around your waist and nestle his nose into your neck.

✦ He says nothing. He simply lets himself be covered by your scent. It excites him, and after a few caresses on your stomach and breasts, you can feel something pressing against the lower part of your back.

✦ You can’t help but smile. Seeing the desire that consumes your man and the fact that his body can’t lie, especially not to you.

✦ "Were you that jealous when Otoya talked to me?" you murmur, mischief in your eyes.

✦ "Tch. You ask, but you already know. Don’t make me repeat it… I don’t like it when that idiot gets too close to you."

✦ And then your hand glides, seeking the object of his desires that you massage blindly. You know that shape and its contours perfectly. Igniting your man’s fire doesn’t take long.

✦ The crow is receptive but doesn’t have much patience this time, it's been a while (well, one day). His hands go under your thighs, and against the kitchen table, he places you down without hurting you.

✦ And then the dance can start again.

© TIGREBLVNC 2024 | INTERESTED IN A MATCHUP EXCHANGE? CHECK THIS.

[cottonlemonade]

Alone At The Library

word count: 2342 || avg. reading time: 10 mins.

pairing: university AU rival!Akaashi x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff, rivals to lovers

warnings: implications of financial struggles

request: small pineapple lemonade with extra ice for Akaashi || fluffy accidental confession with rival Akaashi

In desperate need of escaping the academic and social pressure of a top university, Akaashi convinced his parents that it would not be the end of the world if he went to one a little outside of Tokyo instead. It was far less prestigious, of course, and few people had ever heard of it. But in the end, his air-tight argumentation had won them over and he had moved into his dorm in a neighboring prefecture. The university he chose had a surprisingly good literary program with shockingly bad libraries. For months now the main library on campus was under construction with no indication of anyone ever working on it and so the students were forced to fan out to the smaller libraries in the surrounding neighborhoods to find the volumes necessary for their field.

Akaashi stretched his neck and winced when it popped. He would have loved to take the stack of books next to him to the dorms but the small town library he had chosen was so miserably equipped that they couldn‘t afford to let the few academic publications they carried leave the premises. The essay he was pondering over was a lot trickier than he had anticipated and if he didn‘t hand it in by tomorrow he‘d get a failing grade by default. And so, resigning himself to his fate, he shuffled to the lobby to get a paper cup of watery coffee from the old vending machine, ready to make the most of it until closing time.

When he returned to his spot at the long, somehow always mysteriously sticky table he frowned. He could have sworn there was a book missing. Confused and thinking his exhausted mind must be playing tricks on him he looked around but besides the elderly woman at the reception, deeply engrossed in a well-read paperback with a questionable title, there was no one else around. Akaashi bent down to look through his bag, considering he might have absently put it away, and shot back up a moment later when a pair of chubby legs in very familiar, frayed sneakers walked past on the other side, heading towards the opposite end of the table and he heard the unmistakable sound of books being somewhat carelessly dropped onto the surface.

His mood darkened. Pretending you couldn‘t see him, you placed your backpack on the chair next to you and withdrew a tattered notepad, pencil case, and water bottle, reaching for the first book. Once you opened it, he noticed the cover.

You didn‘t even have the decency to look ashamed when he came over. “What do you think you‘re doing?“, he asked.

“What does it look like?“, you replied, your tone pointedly bored as you flipped through the pages.

“I was working with this book.“

“Really? Looked to me like you were done with it.“

“I only went to get a coffee.“, he pressed out through his teeth, “And it lay open next to my paper. How much more in use could it have been?“

“Listen, you have a whooole stack next to you. Why don‘t you use those until I‘m done, hm?“

You had the audacity to give him a very fake bright smile.

He hated that he didn’t immediately have another comeback. Biting the inside of his cheek he thought but ultimately knew there was no point in arguing with you. Any wall would be more susceptible.

“20 minutes.“, he said coldly, “Then you‘ll give it back.“

“Sure thing, pretty boy.“, you said sarcastically, placed the book demonstratively in front of you, and began taking notes. As he walked away you added lazily, “You misspelled “embarrassing“ in your second paragraph. - Ironically.“

As he sat back down, feeling his blood pressure steadily rising in your presence, he felt a pang of annoyance when he saw you were right.

“Time‘s up.“ Exactly 20 minutes later, Akaashi stepped next to you once again. He reached out for the book but you held it tightly, scribbling away. “Just take a picture and work with that.“, he suggested irritably.

“Battery died.“, you only replied without taking your eyes off the paragraph or stopping to write.

For a couple of moments he just stood next to you, hoping to bring you out of context for one, but also maybe come up with a solution for your problems. There was a lot of cross-referencing involved in his paper. Taking pictures would most likely take longer than just looking it all through in his case.

“Maybe we can share it.“, he said eventually.

You looked up and raised a highly doubtful brow.

“I know,“, he suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, “but if we both need it right now that feels like the only way.“

After a moment‘s thought you moved your backpack from the chair to make space for him and continued your work.

He scoffed inwardly. Obviously, you expected him to move to you, but not wanting to risk another argument he gave in and went to collect his things.

It was by no means a perfect solution but at least there was minimal fighting. You were even considerate enough to only hold the page open at a 90 degree angle so he could continue reading on the page he was on, which he conceded was rather civil of you.

The late summer sun was ready to turn in and through the windows offered little support with grayish golden light.

“Okay, you two. It‘s time to pack up for today.“, the elderly woman announced. Instinctively, Akaashi checked his phone for the time. It made sense that the small library closed at 6 but he was so used to the convenience of the business hours of Tokyo’s city center that it caught him off guard nonetheless.

“Just another hour?”, you pleaded from the seat next to him, your voice sweet and genuine. He never heard it like that before.

The elderly woman pursed her lips apologetically, “I’m sorry, dearie. But we open tomorrow at 9, you can come straight back then.”

Akaashi looked down at his unfinished paper. 9 a.m. was his deadline. And judging by your barely legible notes, you were also in a hurry to finish up an assignment. You began putting your things away and looked confused when he grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“Gimme a moment.”, he said and got up.

You watched with rising curiosity how he rounded the corner of the table and began talking with the woman. They were too far away to hear clearly but she laughed and playfully waved him off. He kept on talking for about another thirty seconds before she laughed - no, not laughed. Giggled. Then she rummaged in her purse, produced a set of very jangly keys, and, unclipping one of them, handed it to him. Your jaw dropped when she waved Goodbye to you past his shoulder. With a small satisfied grin, he returned to you and plopped down on the chair, going back to the book as if nothing happened. Evidently, you weren’t gonna let it slide and stared at him until he talked.

“Don’t look at me like that. I just got us VIP access.”, he held up the key, “We can stay as long as we want. Just have to lock up after and leave the key under that clay owl at the entrance.”

“How did you even…?”, you asked, impressed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just asked nicely, that’s all.”

“Uh huh.”

“You have your ways,”, he pointed to the book you previously swiped from him, “and I have mine.”

“Whatever you say, pretty boy.”

As a child, Akaashi would have done anything to spend a night alone in a manga café. He would have practically glowed at the prospect of squinting for hours at the text bubbles and admiring the details in the panels. Now that he got glasses, the squinting was gone, but his love of reading was still as strong as ever and even though it wasn’t an exciting manga in front of him or a café that kept him fed with ramen and other junk food he still felt a deep sense of joy to spend time alone in a library. Well, almost alone. A loud growling of your tummy ripped him from his nostalgia.

He had completely forgotten about the time. “Maybe we should order some food.”, he said, reaching into his pocket and taking out his wallet to check how much cash he had. He doubted the delivery services this far out all came equipped with card readers. Scrolling through the handful of delivery services in the area, he asked, “What are you in the mood for?”

He was about to lay out your options when you shook your head. From somewhere in your backpack you produced a slightly squished onigiri. It was from a convenience store with a bright red sticker announcing that it had been on sale due to the close expiration date. His eyes fell onto your notepad once again, densely covered in scribbles, not wasting a single centimeter of space. The scratches and dents in your metal pencil case suggested that it had been with you for a long time. He tried to remember ever seeing you during the many social events the university offered. But whenever the class suggested going out for dinner you made excuses of studying or having to part-time. He knew you were a scholarship student but he just figured it was because of your excellent grades since you two usually fought for the top score of the year, not for a lack of money.

Akaashi looked down at his wallet again.

“I can just pay for both of us, no problem.”, he offered and was shocked when that earned him a dagger-filled glare.

“No thank you.”, you said sharply and bit into the rice ball.

He shrugged. “Fine. Suit yourself.” After ordering a large pizza for himself, he put his phone away again, going back to working silently by your side. The book that had started the alliance was pushed out of the way at this point and you were each going through separate materials.

About half an hour passed before his phone buzzed, letting him know the pizza was waiting out front and when he returned the tempting smell of cheese and freshly baked bread filled the air. With a slice, heavily laden with different toppings, in one hand, Akaashi went back to checking the notes he had taken since his arrival, sifting out the truly important and highlighting the ones he wanted to add to his paper. Your stomach grumbled again and your hand automatically went to cover it. He pretended not to notice it, but a grin slowly formed on his lips with each new noise coming from you. He heard you swallow quietly and caught you glancing at the pizza every so often. He took his second piece, adding a little hum of culinary delight to the mix.

Once a third of the pizza was gone and you still hadn‘t said anything he was beginning to worry his idea hadn‘t worked, so he swerved to plan B. Leaning back in his chair he patted his stomach, a small bump indicating he was stuffed. “Hey, can you do me a favor?“

“When have I ever been known to do that?“

Akaashi ignored your comment.

“I think I was being too greedy. There is no way I can finish this thing on my own.“

With a sidelong look at him, you raised a brow. “I‘m not a child. I know what you‘re doing.“

“And what is it that I‘m doing?“, he asked, innocently but with a definite challenge to his voice.

You were about to call out his obvious scheme when you wondered if it wouldn‘t sound too egotistical to say that he wanted to share from the beginning. What if he really only miscalculated his hunger? And letting a fresh (and free) pizza go to waste was basically a crime.

Wordlessly, you reached past him and pulled the box over so it was sitting between you. The first bite was heaven and you chewed carefully to savor the taste. Very satisfied with himself, Akaashi began adding his notes to his paper. Whilst nibbling at the crust you slid a book to him.

You tapped a paragraph near the bottom of the page. “Here, this is your topic, right?“

He quickly skimmed it and nodded. The title of the book didn‘t suggest that it had anything to do with his research.

“It seemed promising, maybe it can give your paper that last little bit of extra.”

He wanted to thank you out of reflex but instead said with a teasing tone, "What, you like me now?"

“I tolerate you.“, you said loftily, taking a second slice.

Akaashi mimicked you under his breath, of course still loud enough for you to hear, “I tolerate you.“

You both laughed.

“Can I ask you something?“

You nodded and took another bite.

“Why do you hate me?“

“I don‘t hate you.“, you said without wasting a single breath.

“Huh, you sure about that?“, he chuckled.

“Kinda. Like… 80% sure, I‘d say.“

“And what are the other 20%?“

Choosing to focus on the pizza, you shrugged.

“I‘d dislike anyone who is smart, handsome and kind.“

“You think I‘m handsome?“, he asked immediately, making you clear your throat and look away. He was having a great time.

“Oh, don‘t pretend you don‘t know you‘re dreamy.“, you said with playful annoyance, “Why do you think I call you pretty boy?“

“Is that so?“

With your cheeks turning very red very quickly you took a new book from your stack and opened it to a random page. Picking up your pen, you began taking notes again.

He watched you for a bit, impressed by your dedication, then asked, “Interesting book?“

“Uh huh.“

Akaashi reached for it and turned it around.

“Then I bet it‘s gonna be even better when it‘s right side up.“

art: @ui536

a/n: thank you so much for your request and I apologize that it's taking me 6-8 business weeks to reply to requests by now. I hope you enjoyed it @toomanygoldfish

And a special thank you to @haikyu-mp4 for listening to me rant about this piece for way too long.

[uglycryinglawyer]

heyyy tumblr,

class of 2024 law student here. no offense but you know things are bad when i take it to tumblr. law school really does something to your psyche and i hate to say it but despite this whole movement on social media to be more transparent, i don't believe anyone will be completely honest about their experience when their words can be traced back to them. being believable as 100% genuine & honest while being anything less than to followers that cling to every syllable of yours does more damage than good imo.

ill start this page with some honesty that i would label as a 6/10 on the "how embarrassed would i be if someone from my post-grad job were to see this" scale i just made up.

my first semester i felt like the smartest version of myself i had ever been because i got 1 online award from a fake company (seriously what business does this "computer-assisted legal education" company have hosting awards for schools around the country & why are they receiving our grades to begin with) for having the highest grade in my class. mind you, this company/award is not at ALL affiliated with my school, its literally made up. but its something that is made PUBLIC (as in if you knew my name you could google me and this stupid award shows up), and so many schools still acknowledge it to, idk, create further divisions between students that i guess the whole system of making everyones grades 100% based on their finals and curved (not in a good way) doesn't do enough for?

now here i am, having finished my 6th semester & walked the commencement stage a few days ago ugly crying over a grade because i might have just lost my honors status. when in actuality .... ~ kim, there are people that are dying ~ why does any of this matter?? this is what 6 semesters of slowly having your confidence in your own intelligence chipped away at does to a person.

its not over yet though - bar prep starts last week :). actually it starts on may 20th officially, but no ones being honest about the fact that they really started studying the day after their finals ended, if not earlier.

so i've decided to document my experience for you all here. with bar prep & my foray into big law (you know this field was meant for babies because that's what we unsarcastically call a career at a top law firm) on the horizon, & 6 semesters of pure chaos behind me, i have a lot to say!

im not sure who this is going to reach because, again no offense tumblr, but i doubt this site has the reach it once did. maybe this will just end up being a time capsule for myself, which i would love. or maybe this will help 1 person cope, which i would love even more.

regardless, if you read this far, thank you & tttys. going to throw some random hashtags in now don't mind me.

[blurredfloweryblood]

Now that I'm properly fixated in Mouthwashing, something that I truly adore is the way Jimmy is obsessed with Curly. And don't get me wrong, Obsession can stem from other things that are not romantic. Jimmy's obssession comes from anger, insecurity, misogyny and envy.

And it has so many layers and so many connections like, my god, this shit is so complex. In simpler terms, one may assume that Jimmy just wants to take his place. He wants to be the captain. He wants to be on top of the ladder and kick the others that come closer. But that's not it. He hates Curly because he is him, and because he is not. He wants to be him, yes, but at the same time, he wants to be himself. In the game, the identity crisis that Jimmy deals with is tremendous. Now that he is in Curly's place, he's crumbling. He know that Jimmy himself is delusional, so drunk in his own perception and so conditioned by capitalism that he's so devoid of what makes a person. He doesn't fit anywhere. He sees the other characters (Anya, Swansea, Daisuke) as this caricatures of whining animals that he has to take care of. Because there is nothing else, he has made the role of captain for him, and even in the conditions he put, he doesn't have the abilities to lead them through the situation he put all of them in.

It's just so fascinating and tragic. In the one dimensional trait he has attributed to all of them (Anya the useless, Swansea, bitter and stupid, Daisuke, childish) the one who remains with somewhat complex, is Curly. Even in his agony, Curly is still so above Jimmy that he cannot take it. To understand all I'm saying (because I'm probably rambling nonsensical shit), the theme of ladders as a capitalist critique that all of them suffer of. Swansea is stuck in a place that is expected of many men. Being the head of the family, but hardworking and jumping at every assignment. From corporate perspective, families are just units to condition other people to do the same thing (climbing the ladder) by imitation and a learning process.

With Anya, the ladder metaphor can be applied, not only to discrimination (given that there are still a lot of misogyny around nurses and seeing them as less valuable when it comes to medical fields). Daisuke is the promise of a future, something he can do. Being "good" doesn't really mean anything when it comes to capitalism, you just have to be ready to jump at any chance of having a job, because that's what adults with fulfilled lives do, right? They get a job, and people are proud of them. Seeing as Daisuke is kind of wandering (he does have defined interests and personality, but there's also the melancholy of not knowing exactly what to do with your life, or being pressured and having to choose something that's easy to reach and relatively close enough). All of them, are aware of the fact that they are permanently stuck. Or will be. Swansea expreses this in monologue, and quietly implied with the rest of them for what we can infer beyond Jimmy's twisted perception of reality.

With that said, Jimmy is the person most conditioned to climb the ladder. Ambitious and with no actual morals, with arguably a lot of impulsive actions made within rage and other emotions, he thinks himself as the only capable person to understand the intricacies of the corporate world, so deeply stuck in a ladder because he has nowhere to go, nothing else to do, while others probably had other dreams or aspirations; he resents Curly for being both: A good captain and someone who's not entirely faceless in the ugly world they live in. He thinks of being like him; earning the title of captain, in his eyes, through Curly's injuries, he's entering the role because he is the copilot, because, obviously, he has to step in, right? Without aspirations, uses or faces, the others don't deserve even an ounce of Jimmy's time, and yet, he finds himself doing everything, and nothing at all.

Being captain of a unmoving ship with a critical chance of being destroyed, with the unconscious knowledge that they will all die, he is the rising star, this is his time to shine, isn't it? Because heros arise from the ashes and other people's mistakes to fix it all. And with the decision of keeping Curly alive, I don't think the others wished to prolong his suffering, and due to his long, one sided envy with Curly, he keeps him alive, watching him breathe and heave heavily, writhe in pain. He's in the palm of his hand, and at the same time, he's still Curly. Even faceless, he is still burning in the back of Jimmy's head, with a hand on his shoulder, the smile and mild voice that kept him gritting his teeth, tensing his jaw.

He wants to be Curly. And himself. The triumph of fools, the crown of the pitiful. The top of a ladder that goes nowhere. Not even up. He will never be, anything more. Never again. In his delusion of getting to the top (again, heavily conditioned by capitalist culture and with his own nature and horrible personality) Curly is the one that breaks his fantasy and consumes him. Thus, he consumes him back. He brings the corpses to the table and with their clouded eyes, he makes him watch the most humiliating act, taking Curly, picking him apart, wounds out for the air, he becomes Curly once the flesh is in his mouth. The narrative of Curly, he's twisting and turning it to put his name on it.

And his last foolish act, is placing Curly inside the cryogenic pod, showing that he was selfless and a great leader, that the losses had to happen, it's just that nobody understands. That tragic act closes his arc as a character, he started as nothing, and remained as that. Just another fool, another lost name, nobody will know who he was. Nobody will care. His house will be sold, and there will be no memories remaining inside it.

"Our worst moments don't make us monsters" He says himself as he puts a bullet in his head, cradling the final, useless and stupid decision. Jimmy, you never mattered. And your death, is nothing to the world.

[lipstickmarks]

Steven to the Rescue

Pairing: Steven Grant x fem!reader Category: Hurt/comfort, fluff, domestic fluff Warnings: none Content: Hurt/comfort, fluff, domestic fluff, kissing, making out in public, reader has a terrible horrible no good very bad week and steven is there for her, Steven’s love languages are acts of service and physical touch, reader getting princess treatment, reader is kinda corporate girlie coded, steven being smooth, steven can cook, steven might be slightly ooc bc he is my silly putty and i am bending him to my will

Steven loved his job. He loved going into work everyday to consume any and all things related to egyptology. It’s what makes him able to withstand the abuse from Donna– which is lessened now that he’s been promoted to tour guide and she technically isn’t his supervisor anymore. But today, he simply does not want to go. 

He’s been watching you pace around his kitchen nervously for the past five minutes, checking your phone, watch, and laptop in quick succession. It had been… a less than stellar week for you.

Firstly, your job has been stressing you out by offloading duties onto you that weren’t in your job description because someone else had quit unexpectedly. Then, there was an error with your bank and your paycheck wasn’t deposited so you had to wait an extra 3 days to pay your bills. On top of it all, your phone service provider was having some sort of nationwide glitch so you barely had any service. 

Not only did you have twice the workload but you weren’t getting any of your work emails on time. Plus, you had to be in constant contact with the bank to sort out their issue. It’s why you’d come over to Steven’s flat before work, to use his internet and hopefully get a better signal. Plus, you two wanted to see each other. 

Steven had made some cranberry muffins and vegan egg bites for the two of you but your plate remained untouched while you paced around, waiting for a bar. 

“Love,” Steven murmured, reaching out to grab your elbow. You looked up from the laptop you were cradling in your arms and Steven nearly sighed out loud at the sight of your eyes. Beautiful, but so so tired. The universe has been running his favorite person ragged and it hurt him to see you so downtrodden by life. “You really should eat something before work.” 

You sighed and sat down your devices, trading them for a muffin. Steven cracked a smile at how your demeanor visibly changed once you took a bite. You always swore Steven put some kind of happy elixir into his food because it never failed to bring your spirits up. You gobbled up one muffin and reached for another. 

“Thank you for breakfast.” 

Steven leaned over and kissed the side of your forehead. 

“You’re welcome, darling. Hate to see you so out of sorts.” 

With you finally eating, Steven finished getting dressed. He had to go into work earlier than you did so he let you stay and finish doing what you needed to do. Before he left, he wrapped his arms around you and gave you a soft kiss. 

“I’m off then, darling. You’ll be okay here?” 

You gave him a reassuring nod as you swallowed a bite. 

“Yeah, I’m gonna finish up in a little bit. I have a feeling today is going to be better.” 

Steven beamed at you. He kissed you once, twice, three times and he knew if we went for a fourth, he’d cave and stay home with you. 

“Right, I’d better get going before I lose my job again.” But Steven made no move to leave. He was staring at you with that dreamy look, the one that had been perpetually fixed on his face ever since you two started dating two months ago. Steven was the perfect boyfriend. Gentle, thoughtful, and he adored you so much. 

“Go,” You told him. “I’ll be fine, really.” 

Steven gave you one last squeeze before walking out the door. 

—----------

Steven was finishing up a tour with a school field trip and he was buzzing from how well it went. Usually, preteens were their own unique breed of nasty– making inappropriate noises, laughing obnoxiously, and just generally being awful but a boy and girl had been asking tons of insightful questions, spurring Steven on and letting him flex his breadth of knowledge. And if there was any snark, the teacher shut it down expeditiously so Steven could continue. 

It was probably the best tour he’d given since he started working there. 

Plus, earlier in the morning, the curator had pulled him aside and said they were looking for someone to give virtual tours that they could record and post online. If he got it, it would mean a pay bump and more benefits. 

Things were finally going his way!

The group was just starting to shuffle off for lunch when Steven spotted you, standing off to the side of the museum entrance. His whole face broke out into a grin and his heart skipped a beat, but that elation faded when he saw your eyes. 

You had been crying. 

As soon as everyone was gone, Steven crossed the room to you. You both reached for each other. His hands fell to your hips and you clutched his bicep. 

“Love, what’s happened?” 

You tried to smile but your eyes were bloodshot and puffy. You were holding back tears and you looked like you were on the precipice of a complete breakdown. Like if someone pricked you with a sewing needle, you’d pop. 

When you spoke, it came out small and broken. 

“I tried to call you but my phone—” Your voice died on the word and Steven’s grip tightened around you. 

“Darling?” 

“I came to ask for a favor. My apartment… they called me while I was at work. A pipe burst.” Your lip quivered. “All my stuff is ruined.” 

Steven’s eyes widened. 

“No.”

You nodded, fat tears spilling down your cheeks. 

“They said it’s gonna take three weeks to fix it.” You started wringing your hands nervously and took a steadying breath before you spoke again. “I was hoping I could stay with you.”

Steven’s answer is an immediate yes. 

“Absolutely, love. Anything you need.” 

He couldn’t stand it anymore and he pulled you into a tight hug. Your head fell lamely against his chest and he felt your tears soaking through his shirt but he didn’t mind. Not one bit. You peered up at him, face hot and flushed with tears.

“You’re sure it won’t be a problem? We haven’t been dating that long and I don’t want it to be…” You floundered, searching for the right word but Steven knew exactly what you meant. He caught your hand with his and brought it up to kiss the back of it. 

“It won’t be. It'll be like a slumber party, yeah? We’ll bake cookies and watch films. It’ll be fun.”

You nodded but Steven could tell you weren’t convinced. After the week you’d been having, what reason did you have to believe anything else was going to go right for you? You looked like you were a single moment away from shattering entirely. 

“Do you want to leave now? I can take the rest of the day off. I can find someone to cover my afternoon tours.” 

You shook your head and wiped your eyes.

“No. No, I have to go back to work. We have an important meeting.” You sniffed. Steven’s heart broke seeing you like this. You just looked so defeated. 

Steven thought hard for a moment. How could he make this better for you? How could he lighten your load? 

“How about this? I’ll pick you up after work. We’ll stop by your flat and get anything we need and then we’ll go back to mine, hm?” He brushed the falling hair out of your eyes. “We’ll get a takeaway, watch your favorite show, I’ll even let you braid my hair if you like.” 

You chuckled a bit. 

“Can we get dessert?” 

Steven kissed your forehead. 

“Anything you want, love.”

You nodded and a genuine smile returned to your face. 

“Alright, well I better get back. I’m on my lunch break and it’s gonna take me 15 minutes to get back across town.” 

Steven stopped you before you could leave.

“Darling, have you eaten lunch?” 

You looked sheepish when you shook your head. Steven wouldn’t be having that. Wordlessly, he laced your fingertips with his and lead you down to the employee lockers. He opened up his where the only contents were a book of Egyptology, his spare glasses, a Tawaret funko pop, his lunch box, and a picture of you taped to the inside. 

He pulled out his lunchbox and placed it in your arms.

“Steven, no.” You gasped. “I can’t take your lunch.” 

You took his lunch. 

No matter how much protesting you did, Steven insisted, waving off your concerns with a promise that he would get something from a food truck at lunch. He hailed a taxi for you before you could argue any further. 

“Steven, I don’t have cab fare.” You said with wide eyes as the taxi pulled up. “Remember? My bank–”

He pulled out his own wallet and handed the driver his bank card. 

“Can’t have my beautiful girlfriend going across town on public transport. Someone might steal you away from me.” 

You flushed. Your stomach was doing happy flips from feeling so taken care of. Steven took his card back from the driver and tucked it away. You were full on crying now as you wrapped your arms around him and weeped into his chest. 

“It’s alright, love.” He murmured in your ear. 

You pulled back to kiss him. It was eager and much too sloppy to do in broad daylight on the steps of his place of work but you couldn’t help yourself. 

“Thank you for going to all this trouble for me.” You mumbled as you pulled away. 

“It’s no trouble at all, love.” He opened up the cab food for you and didn’t shut it until you were inside. “I’ll pick you up at your office at the end of the day, okay?” 

You nodded and Steven leaned his head through the window to give you one last kiss. 

“Last chance to play hooky with me for the rest of the day?” 

You giggled and shook your head. 

“Tempting, but no. I’ve got to go be a grownup.” 

Steven smiled at you and mouthed a silent “okay.” He stepped back onto the curb and once the road was clear, your cab pulled out into the street. 

Once Steven was out of view, you opened up his lunchbox. He had a habit of overpacking in case he was stuck on the bus for a while and needed a snack, which came in handry because you were starving. You ate his sandwich, chips, soda, half a bag of grapes, and a cookie. 

At a red light, your driver turned back to you. 

“Your boyfriend is so sweet!” She swooned. 

“You don’t know the half of it.” You giggled. “This is his lunch.” 

She gasped.

“Shut up! That is so cute! Oh my gosh, you’re so lucky.” 

You grinned.

“Yeah. I am.” 

—-----------

The rest of the afternoon went painfully slow for you.Thankfully, you got so busy with work that you temporarily forgot you were broke, without a phone, and temporarily homeless. 

When it was finally time to go, you headed toward the front desk, intending to use the landline to call Steven but when you stepped into the hall, he was already there. You had to do a double take at first because you thought you might have been dreaming or seeing things. But no, this was real life. 

Steven Grant, your nerdy, sweet, perfect boyfriend was chatting to your office receptionist with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. 

“I never realized the museum was free! I always thought it cost money, that’s why I haven’t brought my kids.” The receptionist said, embroiled in a conversation with Steven. 

“Loads of people think that, actually but yeah it’s free entry. It only costs money for tours. Though, if you’re bringing your little ones, I can’t recommend the tours enough. You get loads of extra information that just reading the pamphlets won’t give you. Not to toot my own horn but I give a pretty educational tour if I do say so myself.” Steven said with a relaxed smile. Ever since he’d been promoted to tour guide, he’s been so much more sure of himself. He’s still the goofy, sweet, bumbling nerd he always has been but the constant exposure to his passion has cushioned him in a cozy little bubble of Egyptology, vegan baking, and you. How could he not feel content? 

“I think I’ll take them next weekend.” The receptionist said as you arrived at the desk. “I’d like a tour with you as well.” She looked up from scribbling the museum information on a Post-It note and saw you. “Oh, here you are, darling! Does this sweet man belong to you?” 

Just as she asked, Steven held out the bouquet to you. Red roses, pink tulips, white calla lilies, and some hydrangeas to fill it out. 

“He does.” Your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. You took the bouquet from Steven and smelled the flowers. Steven gently pulled your purse strap off of your shoulder and took his lunch box out of your hands, holding them both and holding his free hand out for you. 

“Are you ready, love? The cab’s waiting.” 

Do not cry. Do not cry in your place of work. Do not cry because your boyfriend is being so sweet and you’ve never felt this cared for in your life. 

To avoid your voice coming out high and squeaky, you nodded and took his outstretched hand. Bidding goodbye to the receptionist, he led you out the doors and into the cab, leading you home. 

*****

It feels strange.

You’re not sure why. You’ve spent the night at Steven’s flat before, had dinner, read books, spent all night in his bed, but this felt different. 

You were standing in Steven’s bathroom, hair damp from your shower. The second you got back to his flat, you’d made a beeline to the shower, eager to scrub all of your misfortune off. And you felt so strange, so out of place. 

It was a little more intimate knowing that you’d be here for three entire weeks, which put a decent amount of pressure on a fairly new relationship. You and Steven would be seeing each other in undesirable states, have to give each other space, and somehow maintain the dynamic of your relationship despite these new circumstances. 

You unloaded the grocery bag of toiletries that you picked up from your flat on the way here. Thankfully your hygiene essentials and skincare weren’t damaged. The same couldn’t be said for your clothes, though. 

At least it was the weekend and you didn’t have to worry about outfits for work. You could just lounge around in the sweater and boxers Steven had given you, or nothing if you preferred. Steven certainly wouldn’t mind. 

“Love?” Steven’s voice came through the bathroom door. “The food just got here. I’ll queue up a movie for us.”

“Alright.” You called out. “Be out in a minute.”

“Take your time, darling.” 

What on Earth did you do to deserve that wonderful, wonderful man? 

After changing, you stepped out into the living room where Steven had arranged the takeout boxes, poured you a glass of wine, and queued up “Tangled” on the TV. 

“Steven…” You plopped down on the couch next to him. “We could’ve cooked, you didn’t have to order out for me. I don’t want you going to any trouble for me.” 

Steven looked at you with a glimmer in his eyes that only love could be the catalyst for. He took your chin between his fingers and angled your face to meet his lips in a sweet, slow kiss. 

“Darling, why would it be any trouble to care for you?” 

And just like that, as quickly as a match burns out, all of your anxieties and apprehension faded away. You didn’t feel out of place in Steven’s flat or mistreated by the universe. Here, in Steven’s arms, you only felt loved.

[amazinglyegg]

a bit of an angsty ask-- could you do companions react to sole having a panic attack?

Of course! Angsty prompts are my favorite <3

Companions react: Sole having a panic attack

Includes: Cait, Curie, Codsworth, Danse, Deacon, Gage, Hancock, Maccready, Maxson, Nick, Piper, Preston, and X6

Cait: 

As long as she’s known Sole for more than a few days she’ll be pretty decent at comfort

She gets it. Panic attacks suck. All she can do is try to make it less-sucky.

Won’t get all sappy or dramatic but will just sit with Sole somewhere and remind them that they’re alright

She also won’t let it overstay it’s welcome either, if that makes sense.

Once the panic attack is over and Sole’s willing to continue Cait will just get up and go along with her day, not bringing extra attention to what happened or trying to talk about it or anything

Curie:

Catch her re-reading (or even writing) notes while Sole’s panicking

Obviously Sole’s comfort is top priority but Curie doesn’t remember everything she’s supposed to do! She’s gotta read up on it!

“Think about something nice… like a field of flowers, or a puppy!”

She's very empathetic so she might end up crying a bit alongside Sole, and will probably tell Sole to just ignore her and focus on themself

Great at talking through emotions with! She'll never judge Sole for what they're feeling, even if it's "irrational" or "dramatic". Emotions are confusing, she gets it!

Codsworth:

Codsworth will do whatever he can to make up for his lack of ability to give physical comfort

Blankets, drinks, distractions via books or games, more blankets…

A lot of verbal comfort as well, but he might gear towards gentle jokes or stories rather than traditional comfort

He will mother-hen Sole for a while, even after the panic attack is over. Acts of service is his love language and he really wants Sole to know how much he loves them!

Might stress-clean afterwards, he’s just really worried about Sole and has a bit of abandonment issues he's gotta work through

Danse:

Surprisingly he’s not terrible at helping!

Gets Sole away from the situation, gives them some water, asks simple yes/no questions, etc. etc.

You can kind of tell he has a mental checklist going on and once he exhausts it he just kinda sits there and waits for the panic attack to end

Other than that he has no real clue what to say, so don't expect much more than a "there, there" and an awkward shoulder pat

He's definitely open for Sole if they need to vent or whatever but he's terrible at letting them know that, so Sole will probably have to be the one to initiate any further conversations about it

Catch him reading some medical book written in the 1900's for advice and going up to Sole like "Have you tried cocaine?"

Deacon:

Uhh. Panic.

Deacon is NOT good with these things! Lots of awkward laughter and (gentle) jokes and tense body language that kinda makes Sole a little more stressed

He’ll get better with time (and practice) though, although he may still need Sole to tell him what they need from him from time to time

He IS good at reading body language and such, so it won't take long for him to pick up details like whether they want to be touched or not

Definitely mentally noting down what triggers Sole’s anxiety so he can help them avoid it in the future

Gage:

Will straight up admit he has no clue what to do.

Doesn’t want to make things worse and doesn’t want to accidentally piss off Sole so he’ll probably just give them space and leave a beer next to them

The best Sole will get out of him is a pat on the back

Does defend Sole from any onlookers and will gently guide them somewhere more private if there are people around when they have the panic attack

To him, he'd be mortified if anyone saw him panicking like that! Catch him telling Sole embarrassing stories about himself so they feel better about being that vulnerable around him (even if they don't mind at all)

Hancock:

I think he’ll be good at recognizing the signs of a panic attack and comforting Sole even if they aren’t super close yet

He’s just the type of guy to get along with strangers, and that goes with comforting them too

He’ll rub Sole’s back and talk them through it quietly without drawing too much attention to it

He’s willing to just continue the conversation or act like nothing’s happening if it’ll help Sole - sometimes ignoring it will make it go away faster!

Generally just lets Sole take the lead and picks up on what they want/need from him

Nick Valentine

Okay we all know he'd be AMAZING at this

He'd notice Sole's anxiety, potentially before they even have the panic attack, and will lead them away somewhere calmer to de-stress

He's great at reassuring them of whatever they need to hear ("It's going to be okay, you're safe, I'm here...) and he'll stay calm and composed in the process

Honestly wouldn't be surprised if he kept like, a stuffed animal or something in his giant coat of his for this reason

Might be hesitant on physical touch, or even eye contact - he's self conscious and afraid he'll freak them out with his eyes or metal hand

WILL let them wear his coat like a blanket though... if they can excuse the smell of cigarettes

Maccready:

He doesn’t know what to do but he can’t just leave them, so he’ll try anything really

Talking them through breathing exercises, keeping them away from crowds/busy areas, patting their shoulder awkwardly, hell he’ll even give them a hug if they ask

Tries to just be there for them, even if he doesn’t really know what to say or do

Might just resort to “keeping watch” by sitting a few feet away from them with a gun, both so they can have their space and so they know they’re safe and he’s still within earshot.

Maxson:

Definitely a “just calm down” / “just breathe” type of guy

Either that or he’ll straight up panic and send Sole to the med bay thinking they're having a heart attack

He’s never really had anyone to role model good responses to these kinds of situations before! He’s trying his hardest but he has no clue what to do

He WANTS to know what to say though, so if Sole explains it to him after the fact he’ll pay attention and use their advice for any future panic attacks

Canonically he views mental health as just as important as physical health, so he will definitely take Sole seriously and do whatever it takes to keep them happy and healthy

Piper:

“Haha what’s wrong Sole?? 😀 … oh shit what’s wrong 😥” type of reaction

Basically it might take her a bit to realize Sole’s having a panic attack, but she’ll do what she can to help once she notices it

Takes “rest and digest” literally - will give Sole food and tuck them into bed if she can

Might try to throw every coping strategy she knows at Sole all at once in hopes one of them will work well

Uhh BREATHING and FOOD and and PET DOGMEAT do you want to go on a walk?? How about some hot chocolate???

Might be a good idea for Sole to make a checklist for her to go down one by one...

Preston:

Great at speaking gently and keeping Sole from panicking more

Slow movements, low voice, maybe holding their hand or rubbing their back comfortingly

He doesn’t always know exactly what to say so he’ll focus on self-soothing for himself to help Sole calm down as well

Things like taking deep breaths so Sole can follow along or going on a walk with them

He's also very respectful of their space and privacy, and will immediately give them space if they ask for it (even though he's almost worried sick about them)

Will reassure them that he doesn't think any differently of them or their ability to lead the Minutemen!

X6:

I think X6 would actually be pretty good at comforting Sole, all things considered

The last thing you need while having a panic attack is other people panicking as well, right?

And X6 will definitely stay calm, that’s for certain.

He might also end up overloading Sole with facts about panic attacks though

Sole will be like “I think I’m having a heart attack” and X6 will respond by giving a list of every single symptom of both to compare and contrast as proof it's a panic attack

You can definitely catch him silently panicking the first time Sole has a panic attack though

He’s not good with emotions man he’s trying his hardest