#6 HOURS OF PURE DEDICATED

[treefory]

Writing a Mao Mao fanfic and decided to draw a scene were he’s talking with his sister Burnhilde. (This isn’t really how the scene is described but it’s how I imagine it.)

“Mao Mao, over here!” A voice called out among the crowd. It was Burnhile sitting in a large tent waving him over.

Mao mao came over and sat with her. “ thank you for having me.” He said as he cleared his throat, trying to sound professional.

Burnhilde laughed and patted him on the back, jolting Mao Mao forward and almost making him spill his stew. “you don’t have to act so professional with me! Let’s just talk!”

Mao Mao relaxed, “ so uh, what were you doing before dad called?”

Burnhilde laid down on her back. “Ah nothing, to interesting. I had found a dragon terrorizing a village, so I slayed it. No biggie.”

“How big was it?” Mao mao mumbled as he ate his stew

“Not that big, only like a hundred meters tall.”

Mao Mao choked on his stew, “a hundred meters?! Since when did they get that big?”

Burhilde gave him a confused look. “They don’t get that big where your at? Wait, we’re do you live?”

Mao Mao finished his stew and set the empty bowl aside. “I live in the legendary valley of pure heart, we’re i and my colleagues are it’s protectors.” He said proudly

“Oh! I remember when dad told me about that place, he said it was nothing special.”

Mao Mao felt his pride shatter. That place was were his friends and people that needed him were, it was special!

“It is special! It has a huge ruby that protects the place.”

“Then why do you need to protect it then?”

“Huh, how long have you stayed there?”

“Eh, year and a half I think.”

“You’ve been there for a year and still have criminals running around? Me, personally, would have had them gone in a week.” She chuckled

Mao Mao felt his pride shatter even more.

Link to the fic👇

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Going Live.

Pairing: Yandere!Nanami x Reader (JJK)

Word Count: 7.6k.

TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Camgirl!Reader, Kidnapping, Physical Intimidation, Long-Term Stalking, Obsessive Behavior, Delusional Behavior, Slight Exhibitionism, and Panic Attacks + Disassociation. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

You were a lot of things to Nanami Kento – his world, his light, his love – but above all else, you were the reason he looked forward to getting home.

Calling it ‘infatuation’ would’ve been a disservice to the depth of his feelings for you. It’d been love at first sight; instant and wholehearted, a shackle snapped shut around his neck that he had no will or desire to escape. His eyes were on his watch as soon as he crossed the threshold, his coat shrugged off and abandoned along with his tie in the doorway. He didn’t bother turning on lights or taking off his shoes, doing anything to make his empty apartment seem more lived-in, his focus solely dedicated to reaching his home office with as few disruptions as was possible, with Gojo and the higher-ups still attempting to contact him about the curse he’d finished exorcising less than an hour prior. They could wait. You wouldn’t.

He was smiling by the time he collapsed into the leather-cushioned chair, his laptop still on his desk from the night before – the last time he got to see you. The motions were automatic, practiced to the point of reflexivity. One hand glided over the keyboard while the other found his phone, silencing it in the same motion as he tossed it haphazardly onto the desk, out of his view. He checked his watch one more time; 6:59. Good. He was early.

His grin brightened, as did his laptop. Your stream flickered to life a second later and with it, your smiling face. The relief was instant, pure warmth accompanying it. The bittersweet tinge – as subtle as it was prodding – came only a moment later, but Nanami did his best to ignore it.

You were the sole reason Nanami Kento looked forward to getting home. The center of his world, the sole light in his otherwise bleak life. The person he loved more than anything, more than everything.

It was only a shame, then, that you had no idea he existed.

One of his favorite things about you had always been your meticulousness. For tonight’s show, you were splayed out across the foot of a queen-sized bed, surrounded by pastel pink satin sheets and a fleece comforter of the same shade, a matching dormant hitachi vibrator (Nanami’s favorite and, guessing from how often it made an appearance in your shows, yours too) nestled between your thighs. Your outfit was aesthetically pleasing – a set of lacey, baby blue lingerie with white, knee socks – but paired with your set up, casual enough to give the impression that you hadn’t realized the camera you were posing in front of was actually on, as if you weren’t entirely prepared to be seen by a thousand or so strangers just yet. The fact that you didn’t start talking right away, only humming as you idly toyed with your hair, only added to the nonchalance of it all. You would make a good actress, if you ever decided to pursue something more, for lack of a more applicable phrase, legitimate.

Nanami’s attention drifted from you to your chat, slowly starting to fill with impatient viewers. Despite himself, he felt his absentminded smile waver, an irk of irritation momentarily tainting his bliss. He knew you weren’t entirely real, that he didn’t have any right to be possessive over a performer, but he loved you. It would’ve been difficult for anyone to watch someone they loved be exposed to so many prying eyes.

user34333: fuck she’s hot

hotbox420: looking good y/n!!!

lostandconfused: why does she still have her clothes on?

 The only silver lining was how oblivious you seemed to it. Another minute passed before you straightened, yawning slightly as you pushed yourself up, legs hanging over the foot of your bed. “Welcome home,” you started, with a quick stretch and a playful wave towards the camera. “Everyone’s already put the kids to bed, right? I’ve got a very special surprise I want to bring out a little later, so nobody’s allowed to leave early.”

Your tone was light, melodic, saccharine. Already, Nanami could feel his cock beginning to harden against his thigh, straining at the material of his pants. You were always mobile during your shows, prone to flitting from one position to another, but tonight, you almost seemed antsy as you pulled your legs back onto the mattress, tucking your knees underneath you and bowing your head, your neutral smile taking on a shy undertone. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day,” you admitted, speaking quickly enough for the words to blend together. Then, with more composure, “Who wants to get us started?”

Nanami’s hand was already on his keyboard, waiting for your cue. Somehow, he was still too late.

blueeyeswhitedragon sent 150 credits!

blueeyeswhitedragon: Bra first, pretty please.

You giggled as you raised your hands, leaning forward to give the camera a better view of your chest as you undid the clasp at the nape of your neck. Nanami’s breath hitched as the thin fabric fell away, revealing the soft curves of your breasts and your pretty, perfect nipples – already hard, already enough to make saliva pool underneath his tongue. The lower clasp was next, undone with more effort and more bouncing than what seemed absolutely necessary, but Nanami couldn’t complain, not when he was struggling to undo the fly of his dress pants without ever looking away from you. There was another giggle as the article fell away entirely, then a third as you cupped your chest with both hands, groping gently. “I used to be so shy about taking my top off on camera…” You trailed off, batting your eyes. “But, you guys think I’m pretty, right?”

Your requested affirmations flooded the chat in an instant. Nanami grinned, slumping back in his chair. He could compliment any part of you earnestly, but aside from donations, he rarely let himself participate in your chat. Speaking to you so openly, being one of a dozen people whose username you’d glance over in a second – that wasn’t what he wanted. Anonymous adoration wasn’t the shape his affection took.

Eventually, you collapsed back onto your bed. “Okay, okay, that’s enough,” you went on, as Nanami wrapped a fist around the base of his cock. “What next?”

There was another offer – 300 credits for your panties, 400 if you took them off with your back to the camera. You obliged, bent at the waist, inching the silken fabric down your thighs at an almost sadistic pace. After you finished, you seemed ready to move onto the main show, but another donation cropped up in your chat.

user34232 sent 75 credits!

user34232: for the socks pls

That, as far as Nanami could tell, seemed to catch you genuinely off-guard. He could see you blushing as you leaned towards the camera – or, he supposed, the laptop you had positioned underneath it, as if you’d misread something. “…my socks?”

Nanami stifled a grown, tightening his hold. With his free hand, he reached for the keyboard,

n. kento sent 200 credits!

n. kento: Don’t take them off.

You played your part perfectly, sighing as you let your head lull to the side. All it took was you batting your eye lashes while letting out the sweetest murmur of “Well, I don’t know if that’s fair, but…” for your chat to dissolve into a bidding war, donations ranging from five credits to five hundred. If you were making any earnest attempt to keep track of which side was winning, you clearly had no motivation to call it too early on – pulling your legs onto your bed and kicking your feet out playfully towards the camera. “Some of you guys ask for such weird stuff,” you went on, rolling your left ankle. “If someone doesn’t tell me what to do soon, I think I’m just going to have to change into another outfit.”

Nanami let out a breath of a chuckle, only half aware he was typing.

n. kento sent 1,750 credits!

n. kento: You look beautiful. Keep them on.

You laughed, and this time, Nanami chose to believe it was sincere. “I get it! We’ll move on.” You were already leaning back, rolling onto your stomach, giving your viewers a perfect view of your ass as you reached for something off-screen. “Normally I’d ask for a suggestion,” you said, as you brought what you’d retrieved back into frame – a pale pink rabbit vibrator, the penetrative half of the forked wand ribbed. “But I have something I’m kind of looking forward to. I promise, I’ll try to get past the boring stuff quickly.”

You thought too little of yourself. Arousal drooled from Nanami’s flushed tip as you positioned yourself on the edge of the mattress, legs spread wide and slick, glistening pussy fully on display. You were already wet, but he knew you would be. It was something you joked about often – how sensitive you were, how something as minor as a wet dream would have you soaking through your panties. Normally, he would’ve figured you were just playing it up for the sake of your viewers, but it was hard to deny the evidence in front of him.

A whimper slipped past your parted lips as you eased the head of the toy past your entrance, stretching yourself out on its bulbed tip. Now, now, he started to move his hand, pumping his fist over the length of his shaft in short, slow strokes, matching your tempo as you rocked your toy into your pussy. A dull hum fills the room as your thumb finds the switch built into the handle’s underside, and your expression immediately goes from dazed to pained, your tongue peaking out from between your lips and your eyes fluttering shut as your hips bucked against the vibrator. “It—It feels—” Your thighs threaten to twitch shut, but you hold them open, determined to give your audience the best possible view of your pussy clenching around your toy. “I really—I wanna get some bondage gear soon, so that I can—”

Whatever you might’ve said was replaced by a bubbling moan, and just like that, Nanami was fucking his fist without restraint. He knew how pathetic it was, but it would’ve been impossible not to imagine it was his cock sinking into your dripping cunt rather than an inanimate toy, not to wish it was your pussy clamping down around his length rather than his own fist. He wondered what you smelled like, if you wore perfume, what it would be like to have his face buried between your thighs. He was aware, vaguely, that your chat was the most active it’d been all night, people trying to catch your attention with donations and tips and compliments, but they didn’t matter. They weren’t watching you, not really, not the same way Nanami was. He knew you, well enough to know that you couldn’t think once something had been stuffed inside of your cunt. He loved you, enough to wish he was the one making your mind go so euphorically blank.

There was more moaning, more failed attempts to speak, but you didn’t let yourself cum. You were visibly trembling by the time you switched the toy off, and it took agonizing seconds to ease the wand out of your disappointed pussy – seconds Nanami watched with rapt devotion. More out of sympathy than anything else, he lets go of his cock entirely, gritting his teeth and attempting to ignore the pulsing ache forming in the pit of his stomach. What was next was better. What was next was worth waiting for.

You took a few panting breaths, your voice still airy by the time you managed to speak. “I have a—” You paused, grinned. Nanami smiled too. “I have a surprise for all of you, tonight. I think I mentioned that already, but— oh, right.” You perked up, playing excited. “We have to move to the floor, for this next part.”

You slipped off-screen, and a second later, the camera shifted to follow you – falling onto a corner of your room less staged than your bed, but just as pristine. Abstract, pastel tapestries obscured the walls, but the dark floorboards were left bare. On one side, most of a dog kennel was visible, decorated with string lights and clearly meant for one of your more niche shows, and on the other, he could make out the bottom corner of a poster – not for anything kinky, or sensual, or in any way suggestive, but an underground band, a local band. You probably hadn’t realized it was in the shot, let alone meant for it to be. You were usually more careful about giving away anything even remotely personal, but Nanami couldn’t be mad.

After all, it’d been that poster that’d let him find you.

He could still remember the first time he ever saw you – actually saw you, not through a screen, but in person. After he knew that you lived in the same city as him (the same district, even), it’d only taken a few more days to find your name, your age, your address. Still, he put off visiting you for weeks, telling himself that it didn’t matter, that you wouldn’t recognize him, that you wouldn’t want to see him. And, in the end, you hadn’t seen him at all – you hadn’t needed to.

That night, he’d watched your show from the rooftop of the building opposite of yours, straining to see you through a bedroom window left carelessly open. Even now, the guilt was almost tangibly agonizing, the shame practically unbearable.

Almost as unbearable as the temptation to go back.

But, that part would come soon enough. You were on screen, again, holding something he recognized.

“I have some exciting news,” you chirped, as you kneeled on the floor, holding a pitch-black dildo, a suction cup attached to the base. Despite its color, Nanami could make out defined veins running down the silicone shaft, a noticeable girth to the base. A perfect mirror of the cock currently pulsing for attention in his lap.

He felt himself grinning, as you went on. “I got my first real fan gift!” You held up the toy to your cheek, like a child showing off their first stuffed animal, before planting it on the floor between your thighs. “It’s so big, too,” you said, showing off its size, where the blunt tip rested well above your navel. “Everyone say thank you, Daddy Kento!”

Your chat was instantly flooded with predictable responses, but Nanami couldn’t look away from you. You were enjoying yourself, clearly. You must’ve thought you were so smart, renting out a P. O. box, going on and on about how grateful you were to your dedicated fans when he reached out to ask if you accepted physical donations, and you were smart. It was only a shame that Nanami loved you enough to look past all of your attempts to keep him away.

As you began to move onto your knees, he allowed himself one more intervention.

n. kento sent 3,000 credits!

n. kento: Take it to the hilt.

It was cruder than he usually cared to be, but as your eyes flickered towards your monitor, your lips quirked into a slight smile. You didn’t respond verbally, but you nodded, and sunk down onto his cock.

Immediately, his hand wasn’t enough, but he tried to make do – matching your agonizingly slow pace, imagining what it would feel like to have you lower yourself down onto his real cock, rather than a cheap imitation. Trails of iridescent slick dripped down the dark silicone, your camera positioned strategically to catch every bounce of your breasts as your breathing hitched, to provide the optimal view of your pussy stretching around the tip, then the head, then the shaft as you lowered yourself slowly. “It—It’s so big,” you repeated, bringing a hand up to your stomach while the other remained on the floor, keeping you stable. “I mean, I knew it would be, but—fuck—” Another inch, Nanami’s fist moving over the same part of his cock. You let out an airy laugh. “Just be thankful I’m so tough.”

“I am,” Nanami muttered, his voice echoing off the bare walls of his office. “You’re perfect.”

“I really wanna cum on this one, too – to, like, christen it, or something. Been keeping myself pent up all day for it.” With a pitchy keen, you brought yourself a few inches higher, then dropped. Your free hand shot away from your stomach and back to the floor as you continued to bounce on the toy’s length, getting just a little deeper each time. “Welcome it to family, y’know? Maybe make it a regular, for you sadists out there.”

Nanami stiffened at the thought of you fucking yourself on a replica of his cock in front of thousands of people twice a week; drooling and panting as you told your viewers how big he was, how good he felt inside of you. With his restraint brought to its limits, he fucked his fist carelessly, his attention fixed on the steady movements of your hips as you rode his toy. Your eyes didn’t flutter closed, this time – they clenched shut, and you couldn’t seem to keep your voice under control, little mewls and half-conscious whines bubbling up from your chest as you struggled to take that much more of him with every thrust. When you did manage to speak, your voice was uneven, whiney, so sweet it made him want to dig his teeth into something and tear. “I’m so close,” and then, as you brought yourself back down, so close to bottoming out, “I wanna cum!”

“You will,” Nanami whispered. He knew you couldn’t hear him, but it was true – you would, and if he’d been able to, he would’ve made you. He would’ve let you fuck yourself on his cock whenever you asked, would’ve woken you up every morning coming undone on his tongue and made sure you fell asleep with his cock buried inside of you. If you were with him, you’d never have to think again, never have to feel anything but pleasure – any time you wanted it, every time you wanted it. He’d make sure—

You didn’t moan as you reached the toy’s base, you screamed. One of your hands moved to the space between your thighs, two fingers rubbing quick circles into your clit as you nursed yourself through your orgasm. Nanami didn’t stand a chance, still chasing his fantasies as he spilled over his hand; searing hot cum pooling on his lap, soaking into the material of his shirt, spilling onto his desk. He didn’t stop moving his hand, though, not until you went limp – bending at the waist, bracing yourself on the floor. Finally, you managed to raise your head, flashing that brilliant smile towards the camera. Of course, Nanami smiled back.

In a daze, he watched you ease yourself off of the toy and wrap up your stream, so familiar from your script that he would’ve been able to recite it with confidence. Even after you signed off, the screen going black, he didn’t move, only letting his head roll to the side with a shallow sigh.

It was pathetic, just how much he loved you. It was painful, being so far from someone who made him feel so irrationally happy.

He could only count the days until he wouldn’t have to limit himself to only watching from a distance any longer.

~

There was a man in your apartment.

A man you didn’t want to be in your apartment, just to be clear. You’d heard the front door open, seen a bulky silhouette moving through your living room, and now, you were listening to him riffle through your bedroom as you hid in the en suite bathroom – crouched in the smallest corner you could find with both hands locked over your mouth, trying to stifle the sound of your own breathing. The door was locked, but that didn’t matter. You didn’t want to find out how much a thin sheet of wood would do to protect you. You didn’t want to give him a reason to acknowledge you at all.

As far as you could tell, there was only one intruder. You could only hear one pair of muffled footsteps, with second-long gaps between every little movement. The air caught in your throat as you heard him edge closer, closer, then pause. There was a dull clack, the sound of metal clashing against plastic, and you relaxed, sighing into your palms. Your filming equipment. It was expensive, but nothing you couldn’t replace. If you were lucky, he’d take what he could carry and leave.

And that was what he seemed to be doing, too – more rustling interrupted every so often by a few moments of heart-wrenching silence. Soon enough, you heard the intruder start to move again, his footsteps edging closer to the bathroom door as he moved to leave your bedroom entirely, and—

“(Y/n)?”

Fuck.

You didn’t say anything, holding your breath and digging your nails into your cheeks, willing yourself not to move, not to think. You didn’t make a sound, you couldn’t have, and yet he kept talking.

“I know you’re in there. Please, come out.”

He couldn’t know. He couldn’t know. You’d kept the lights off, and you hadn’t moved in minutes, and—

He tried the knob, and something cracked deep inside of your chest. There was an airy sigh, then a dull thud, like he was leaning against the door frame. “Please,” he repeated, sounding more exasperated than angry. “I don’t want to scare you.”

“Y-you can take whatever you want,” you stuttered, your voice unsteady, just a touch louder than it really had to be. That was fine. You didn’t have to pretend to be brave, so long as you made it out of this alive and uninjured. “I won’t call the police – I can’t call the police, I left my phone in the kitchen. You can take it, too. I… I don’t have a lot of cash, but my camera, it should be worth—”

“I don’t want your camera, love.” If you hadn’t known better, you might’ve thought he sounded wistful. “Come out, or I’ll break down the door.”

Honestly, it hadn’t occurred to you that he could.

It took a second to pry your hands off of your face, and another to push yourself to your feet – your legs shaking as you struggled to stand. Almost mechanically, you moved towards the door; unlocking it in the same motion as you pulled it open. Light from your bedroom spilled into the entryway, revealing—

God.

He was taller than you’d expected him to be.

Six feet at least, with a build to match. The sleeves of his dress-shirt were rolled up to his elbow, showing off arms so muscular, you wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d planned to tear your door off its hinges with his bare hands. He had a duffle bag slung over his shoulder, visibly full, but you could still see your equipment standing untouched behind him, and you couldn’t imagine anything else he would’ve wanted to take. His blonde hair was swept back, out of his eyes, and he was holding a butcher’s knife in his right hand, the blade wrapped in leopard-spotted fabric. Surprisingly, though, his weapon wasn’t what concerned you the most.

He was smiling. No, actually, that wasn’t right.

He was beaming.

“(Y/n),” he said, again. You didn’t let yourself wonder why he knew your name. “I—I’m sorry, I should’ve introduced myself earlier. I might’ve gotten a little carried away – I’m sorry if I frightened you.”

“…it’s okay,” you managed, your voice barely audible. “Are you going to kill me?”

His expression dropped. “No. Of course not.” And then, after a brief lapse, “I’d never hurt you. I…” You saw his right hand flex around the grip of his knife, and thought you might black out. “I’m a fan.”

Instantly, you felt the blood freeze in your veins.

Fuck. Fuck.

You knew you should’ve gone into accounting.

“I… You’re a fan?” You tried to smile, but it might’ve come across more pained than relieved. “I’m sorry, I’m not used to meeting people who’ve caught my stream. Should I know what to call you?”

And just like that, his grin was back, any momentary tension assayed. You wished he would’ve put down the knife, too, but beggars can’t be choosers. “Kento,” he said, and for the first time, you noticed the pink hue creeping over his cheeks. “Nanami Kento.”

You grit your teeth as you struggled to place him. After a second, it came to you.

Kento. Right. The dildo guy.

Somehow, knowledge provided little comfort. Still, you soldiered on. “It’s really nice to meet you, Nanami.” You clasped your hands behind your back, rocking gently on your heels. “I—I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting any guests. If you want to step out for a couple minutes, I can change into something more comfortable, and show you how appreciative I am for your—”

“I’m not an idiot.” He cut you off, still grinning. “You’re coming with me.”

You didn’t let your smile waver, either. “And, if I didn’t want to go with you…?”

 “I’m afraid this isn’t about what you want, anymore.”

You meant to say something – opened your mouth and everything – but nothing came out. Your heart tightened in your chest, a not inconsiderable portion of your mind screaming for you to run, run, run. And yet, when he took you by the wrist in a feather-light hold, leading you through your own apartment and out into the hall, it was all you could do to smile and follow after him.

~

The first thirty minutes of the car ride passed in silence. Nanami – because you couldn’t stand to keep thinking of him as ‘that guy who bought you a dildo shaped like his own dick and paid you thousands of dollars to ride it live on stream’ – kept his knife in his lap, his hand falling away from the wheel and onto its hilt whenever you so much as took a deep breath. Eventually, your eyes fell to the clock built into his dashboard, and you broke through your paralysis with a nervous laugh.

“It’s a little funny,” you started, for lack of anything else to do. “I’d actually normally be getting ready for my stream, around now.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched him swallow, his jaw tensing. “I know.”

Great. Okay. Whatever. “I don’t mind, y’know,” you managed, before you could let yourself fully consider what you were going to say. “If it means we don’t have to go through with the whole kidnapping thing, I really wouldn’t mind sleeping with you – you can even take pictures, if you’d like that, or record, whichever you’d prefer.”

“That’s not what I—”

“I haven’t tried a lot of hardcore stuff, but I wouldn’t mind if that’s what you’re into. We don’t even have to go back to my apartment, you could just pull over, and—”

“That’s not what I’m interested in.” He didn’t raise his voice, but his tone left no room for protest. “I’m not going to… I’m not going to just fuck you once and leave you by the side of the road. I’m doing this for your sake.”

As if you’d willingly climbed into a maniac’s car. “I… I’m not following, Kento.”

“It’s for your own protection. Once I thought to look, it took me hours to find out everything about you.” He spared you a quick glance, that same uncanny smile. One of his hands left the wheel and, rather than moving to his knife, found your knee, squeezing gently. It took everything you had not to scream. “Imagine what someone could do with that kind of information. They could blackmail you, if they found your full name, or track you down if they pieced together your address. It’d be a miracle if they were only a stalker. It just wasn’t safe to let you keep going on that way.”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, more to yourself than to him. “They could even break into my apartment and abduct me at knifepoint.”

His gaze narrowed, but his smile only softened. Neither of you spoke for the rest of the journey.

After far too long and not nearly long enough, you reached your destination: a housing complex, leagues nicer (and more expensive) than your own rundown building. Calling them apartments would’ve been a disservice; they were more similar to free-standing condos, or miniature villas slotted just outside of the city’s more metropolitan districts. Without a word, you let him guide you into a relatively generic home, its only notable feature being the absolute lack of evidence of meaningful life within it. You wouldn’t have been surprised if it was a rental, leased exclusively to give him someplace to do… well, whatever he planned to do to you. It’d be more off-putting to know that someone actually lived someplace so vacant.

He led you through the empty halls and up a flight of stairs, keeping you in front of him and in his line of sight at all times. Finally, you reached the door he seemed to be looking for and, with a nod by way of instruction, let yourself inside.

Before you stood, puzzlingly, your own bedroom.

Or – the parts of it you could make out on camera, at least. The bed was the same size, the same model, made with the same sheets and littered with the same pillows, but the floor was covered in a harsh white carpeting, the surrounding walls soundproofed with suffocating black foam. Camera equipment identical to your own had been set-up at the foot of your bed, but an unfamiliar silver laptop replaced your own sticker-covered monstrosity. You didn’t see any chains, whips, or shock collars, which was good. You still didn’t know what the fuck was going on, which was bad.

Confused, you turned to Nanami as he crossed the threshold and rather conservatively, shut and locked the door. “There are clothes on the bed,” he explained, with a tone that made it difficult to tell whether or not he knew how weird this was. “A script, too. Memorize as much as you can.”

So he still expected you to stream. Or, that was what you hoped, at least – considering the only alternative was that he was planning to make an extremely elaborate snuff film. “I’m not used to using scripts.”

“You’ll manage.”

You didn’t bother trying to argue, only moving towards the bed and attempting to forget he was there entirely.

The ‘clothes’ he’d left for you turned out to be lingerie – the nice stuff, too, white and lacey and bridal with a babydoll cut. You glanced over his script (which, disturbingly, didn’t exactly not sound like you) as you got dressed and fixed your hair, doing the best you could without any of your usual supplies. You wouldn’t be able to reapply your make-up, but you’d put some on earlier, and—

You almost laughed at yourself, stifling a chuckle.

You’d been kidnapped, and you were worried about your make-up. If you got out of this alive, you swore, you’d never touch foundation or a ring light or a camera ever again.

He didn’t have to tell you when it was time – you would’ve known by instinct alone. With Namami watching from an armchair pushed against the opposite wall, you clambered onto the bed and took your usual position, kneeling in center frame. He’d never asked for your credentials, and yet, when you glanced towards the laptop positioned just underneath the main camera, you found that your own profile was already pulled up, a miniature timer in the corner of the screen counting down the seconds until you went live.

As it reached thirty seconds ‘till, it occurred to you that you were in a soundproof room alone with the man who’d kidnapped you and was currently holding you hostage, and that no one could’ve possibly known where you were or, more importantly, who you’d been taken by.

As it reached fifteen, you realized you were being held captive and being forced to wear bridal lingerie that your kidnapped must’ve picked out with the occasion in mind.

As it reached five, for the first time that day, you thought you might actually start to cry.

And, as it reached zero, you put on your biggest, brightest smile and hoped beyond hope that you’d stop thinking entirely, eventually.

“Welcome home!” Skipping over your normal grace period only felt right. You didn’t think you’d be able to survive sitting in silent, motionless suspension for another second, let alone a full minute. “Sorry if I seem a little nervous tonight – to tell the truth, I kind of am. I’ve got a major announcement, and I just can’t put it off any longer.”

Reflexively, your attention drifted first to your own feed – you looked perfect, as always – then to your chat, moving quickly despite your sudden start. You caught a few of the longer messages in your peripheral.

secretary.lover: Is it just me, or does she seem kind scared lmao?

blueeyeswhitedragon: yeahhh i thought her room looked kinda weird too lol

justheretowatch: fuck ur pretty

rapidfire: let me guess, another fake dick?

“I know I probably should’ve given you guys more of a warning,” you went on, fighting the temptation to break, to yell for them to call the police, to give up entirely and make a run for it. “But…”  

You forced yourself to laugh, to beam, to clap your hands together in front of your chest like a schoolgirl – excited to tell her friends that she’d gone through with her first ever confession. “I’m getting married!”

You didn’t have a ring to show off, but you tried your best to preen regardless, to not let any amount of fear or discomfort or hesitation show on your shining expression. After a show delay, congratulations and well-wishes filled your chat (some genuine, others more reluctant), and you did your best to go on without letting the sizable knot slowly gaining mass in the back of your throat smother your voice entirely. “This is going to be my last stream – for a while, at least, until we get settled in. And…”

You tried to remember what’d been listed next in Nanami’s script, but your conscious mind was bogged down by a thick layer of buzzing static, your sense of improvisation dulled by a heavy dose of anxiety. Your eyes flickered to where Nanami was sitting behind your equipment, only to find that the chair he’d formerly occupied empty. You didn’t have time to panic before the edge of the mattress dipped under a new weight, and you remembered what you were supposed to say. “My husband actually wanted to cameo on my send-off show. I was a little hesitant—” Another dip in the mattress, this one much closer than the last. “—but he insisted. I thought you all deserved a chance to meet him, too.”

As soon as you finished, you felt a large hand on your shoulder, a sudden presence at your back. Your gaze fell back to your feed, your own image now accompanied by that of your captor – on his knees behind you, one hand on your shoulder and the other on your hip, the framing positioned so that his head was cut off just above the mouth. The lower half of his face was covered with a black surgical mask, and you had to stop yourself from frowning. You hadn’t expected him to be stupid enough to show his face on camera, but still.

Your heart dropped into your stomach as you felt his hand fall away from your shoulder, slipping underneath the lace camisole of your babydoll. You tried not to move, not to flinch, but you couldn’t stop yourself from jerking forward as you felt his hand slip under your bralette, the angular ridges of his knuckles visible through the thin silk. Despite everything he’d said about not hurting you, about doing this for your protection, he made no attempt to be gentle – the calloused pads of his fingers pressing into the curve of your breast with enough force to bruise. You bit back a whimper, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a sincere reaction. If you wanted to go home, you had to put up with this. He’d never said anything about pretending to enjoy it.

(In the back of your mind, you knew he hadn’t said anything about letting you go home, either. Still, you didn’t let yourself dwell on such discontinuities).

 You should’ve known better than to think he’d attempt to follow the normal flow of your stream, and yet, it still caught you off-guard when his unoccupied hand found its way to the waistband of your panties, then to your clothed sex. You weren’t overly sensitive, despite how you might’ve acted in front of your viewers, but you were still on edge, still panicked, and while the adrenaline being held at knifepoint might’ve sparked was beginning to fade, having your kidnapper grope you on camera was enough to bring on a fresh wave. Reflexively, you pressed your back into his broad chest as his thumb traced over the length of your slit, pausing only momentarily to press into your clit with a dull, oppressive sort of pressure, biting down on your bottom lips to stop anything vulnerable and pathetic from escaping. If Nanami was affected by your stoicism, it wasn’t enough to stop him from pulling the flimsy material to the side entirely and slipping two fingers into you, your now-slick cunt providing humiliatingly easy access. In the same motion, the heel of his palm pressed into your clit, the friction immediately too harsh, too much. It would’ve been too much if he wasn’t touching you at all. It would’ve been too much if he was still sitting alone in his dark, empty house – getting off to the idea of degrading someone he claimed to care about so publicly.

It didn’t help that you were wet. Not dripping, sure, but wet enough for there to be an audible, slick clicking-type noise as he pumped his digits into you, never taking the pressure off of your clit. You could feel his cock pressed into your ass, already hard, already too familiar not to be nauseating, but he didn’t seem to be in a rush to move past your exhibition; his pace measured and experimental, his fingers prone to spreading apart and curling inside of you. To distract yourself, you moved your attention back to your chat, trying to pick out the longer messages between donation notifications.

user84343: girl i call dibs when you’re done with him

hotbox420: no seriously y/n are you okay???

bunnygirl69: still can’t believe you’re leaving us for him </3 can’t say i don’t see why tho ToT

absolutely.soaked: Blink twice if you’re in danger lmaoooo

“G-guys, I’m totally—” Your breath hitched as he forced another finger into you, the stretch now a touch past ignorable. His other hand kneaded at your chest, blunt nails scraping against tender flesh, and momentarily, you wondered if it really would’ve been so bad to take your chances and let him kill you right away. “I’m totally fine, I’m just—” His nails bit into your skin by way of warning, and you allowed yourself a single, stilted moan. “I’m just so happy that I finally get to—to—”

You didn’t know what you were supposed to say, but it didn’t matter. Nanami’s hand dropped from your chest to your side, his arm locking over your midriff and hauling you that much closer. You couldn’t stop yourself this time – whimpering as the tempo of his fingers sped up, as tears started to prick at the corners of your eyes. You glanced around the bedroom, searching for anything familiar, anything you could use to stabilize yourself, anything that you could start to find comforting. Instead, your eyes landed on the duffle bag he’d carried out of your apartment, the zipper now partially undone. You couldn’t see much, but you could make out the handle of a pink hitachi. It wasn’t difficult to guess what the rest of the bag’s contents looked like, what he’d spent so long riffling through your possessions to find.

It wouldn’t been pointless to try and hold back the crooked, ebbing sob that leaked past your lips. This time, when you turned to face your camera, it was with tears just beginning to spill and absolute terror written across your expression. “Call the police,” you managed to spit out, making no attempt to be subtle. “I—I don’t actually know this man, and this isn’t my apartment, and—“

It happened too quickly – like he’d been expecting you to do something so obviously short-sighted. You processed that he was pulling out of your cunt as you felt his fingers entangle themselves in your hair, and then your face was being shoved against the mattress, your body folding over itself as he forced you down. You tried to yell, tried to scream, but your voice was muffled by your own fucking comforter as you heard fabric shifting behind you, as you felt something warm and stiff and leaking align with your entrance. You refused to put a name to it, but that didn’t help. Nothing would’ve helped.

His palm pressed into the back of your head, his body slotting against yours as he leaned down, lowering his head so that he could speak directly into your ear. “I’m doing this for your own good,” he whispered, his voice muffled but still painfully audible. “I’m doing this because I love you.”

You didn’t have a chance to response. He was already inside of you – his cock filling you to your breaking point.

You weren’t sure if your viewers could hear you, but you hoped they could. It would’ve been a pity to sob so loudly for the sole entertainment of the sick, sick man currently rutting into you, grinding into your cunt from behind with a kind of animalistic desperation – all desire and no control. It was a struggle to stay on your knees, not to go entirely limp underneath him, but you doubted it would’ve made a difference if you hadn’t, that he wouldn’t have fucked your limp body just as enthusiastically. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could just barely see the monitor – the miniature image of Nanami’s body moving on top of yours, his blond hair still obscuring the other half of his face, and then next to it, your chat. If you’d been thinking more clearly, you wouldn’t have let yourself look, wouldn’t have let yourself fully acknowledge that there were still thousands of people watching you, but you weren’t thinking at all, and you would’ve given anything for someone to say something that made you forget where you were, just for a second.

sniper727: so the bitch likes it rough? hot

callmeanonymous: FINALLY!!! I’ve been waiting for some cnc rp for actual years.

blueeyeswhitedragon: hey i think i might work with that guy

hotbox420: yeah no i’m calling the cops.

Predictably, your efforts were grotesquely unsuccessful.

Nanami didn’t seem as bothered. The weight on the back of your head disappeared as his hands found your hips, pulling up as he straightened his back. For anyone else, it might’ve been an awkward position – holding up your uncooperative form while bouncing you on his cock  – but no amount of unpleasant technicalities could’ve stopped him from burying himself to hilt with every stroke, keeping you in a constant state of mind-numbing fullness. You tried to talk, again, to call for help, but fractured mewls and pathetic whines drowned out whatever you might’ve said, and even those were put to an end as Nanami took you by the jaw, turning you to face him as his lips crashed into your – his mask either pulled down or discarded entirely, you couldn’t be bothered to check. The kiss itself was messy, rough, brutal, his tongue raking over yours as you sobbed unabashedly into his mouth – your connection only growing more chaotic as his hand once again found your clit and ground two fingers into the sensitive bundle of nerves. You knew what he wanted. You knew what he was trying to do.

And you couldn’t do anything to stop him.

With a ragged sob, you came undone around his cock, any strength you might’ve once had flooding out of your body and dripping down his shaft. Nanami groaned into your mouth, drawing back just far enough to bury his face in your neck and mouth meaningless nothings into your throat as he chased his own climax. He thrusted into you again once, twice, and then you felt pure heat pour into you – a new kind of torture that rendered you entirely senseless. You didn’t try to scream, again.

You were distantly aware of him moving, shifting, pulling something out of his pocket as he muttered a mix of ‘you did so well’s and ‘I love you’s into your skin. When you did finally manage to raise your head, you didn’t think to look toward the remote in his hand or your tattered lingerie or the cum slowly leaking out of your entrance. Rather, your attention landed on the same thing it always did during your streams – your monitor.

You’d never know why, but for whatever reason, you could feel your heart break in your chest as you realized that the screen had already gone black.

[latenightdaydreams]

I have an idea that Konig is Ghostface and he's been stalking reader for a while. He found out reader is a bookworm outside but literally a cunt inside. Like she never comes to parties, spend hours with her vibration instead. One night, Konig sneaks in her house and rape her fat unused pussy 😩😩😩

🤭🤭🤭YES😮‍💨

Ghostface!König x Nerd!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

🚫TRIGGERS🚫

>cw: fem/afab, non-con, bondage, voyeurism, stalking

3.1k word count

👻

.

.

The first time König saw you was at the campus Valentine's Day party. You showed up dressed in a festive pink sweater, but then sat in the corner with a stank look on your face. His eyes followed you as you seemingly complained to the girl you came with, a friend? Either way, your breasts and sensual body shape caught his attention.

König walks up to a guy that’s talking to your friend, “Wer ist das?” He asks, pointing to you.

“She’s a bitch,” the girl's friend hits his chest as if to tell him to shut up.

“She’s just shy. She hates parties.” Christa, your friend, defends you.

They all stand there and watch you gather your things and walk out the door without saying bye to anyone, not even your friend. Interesting. What type of woman are you? He was intrigued and wanted to see more of you. See what those bouncy breasts look like outside of that pink sweater.

After this first encounter, he dedicated his time to following you around campus. First, only to figure out what your schedule was. What classes do you take, what teacher do you have, what building the classes are in, etc. Just the basics.

He stalks behind you, far enough behind that you’d never notice; but close enough to listen in on any conversations you had. Which was basically zero. You kept to yourself no matter what you were doing. If someone interacted with you, you’d have such a poor attitude about it. Snappy, short, lots of eye rolling. This went on for two months.

One day, König set up a forced interaction. Dressed casually and slicked his blonde hair back. He looks handsome, standing at 6 '10 and being pure muscle. He knows he is attractive; his personality just sucks, much like yours seems to.

He lingers outside your second class of the day and looks around as if he were a lost student. Once he sees you, he walks over.

“Excuse me, miss?”

Your eyes dart to him as you take out an air pod. “What?” Your tone is unkind.

“I’m lost and I don’t know which room-”

“I’m late for class.” You cut him off and walk past him.

König just watches as you walk away with a smirk on his face. He knows once he has you in his hands, he’d have fun breaking you. After that, he waits for you to leave class and follow you home. Since you would not get to know him the typical way, he would continue getting to know you in the shadows.

You walk fast, but he has no issues keeping up. Your hips sway hypnotically, keeping his attention. Finally, you stop at a cute one-story home. He watches as you take your keys out and enter your home. Waiting a few minutes before he walks up to peek into your windows. He looks around to make sure no neighbors are watching as he walks up to your house, crouching.

Eyes peering through the first window, he sees your living room. Your shoes kicked off by the door, TV turned on already, and backpack thrown on the couch. His eyes scan the room, trying to take in every detail.

Continuing on he comes to the next window. He sees you and ducks back, worried you might have seen him. After a few seconds of no screams, he creeps back to the window. There you are. Taking off your shirt and jeans, just standing there in your beige bra and blue cotton panties. Totally unaware you’re being watched as you check yourself out in your dresser's mirror.

Watching like a hawk as you open the top draw and pull out a pink little vibrator. König could already feel his pants begin to tighten. You walk to your bed, grabbing a towel that’s folded underneath the bed. Laying the towel out, getting your pillows situated, and moving the blanket. It’s almost like a ritual and König’s interest is definitely piqued. 

He watches as you lie down on the bed. Your pretty pussy covered with a little bit of hair, as you spread your legs he can see the pink within your folds. Fuck this is gold…

König quickly undoes his pants as he watches you pick a setting before moving it to your little clit. Through the window he can hear how loud you’re being, your legs twitch from the stimulation. All the while König stands there feverishly stroking his leaky cock. Imagining him running up to you and shoving his cock in that tight little pussy…

Your hips begin to grind into the vibrator as your head drops back on to your pillows. Your left leg is starting to tremble… König watches without blinking as your innocent pussy begins to squirt. Fingers replacing the vibrator, you start rubbing your clit quickly. Your sweet juices are spraying everywhere. He bites his lip as he begins to cum, accidently cumming on the siding of your house. It felt as if he were a wild animal and just marked you, leaving his scent behind to deter other predators.

This became a ritual for König as the school year went on. He would follow you around campus, watch who you talk to, see how you interact with the world. Occasionally he would try to go up to you and just talk nicely, but every time you shot him down. As if you’re better than him. Then he would follow you home and masturbate outside your window as you play with your tiny cunt.

That was until summer break happened. You went away to work as a camp counselor for the summer, leaving König behind. With you gone, König felt lost. He spent most of the summer inside watching porn. Looking for actresses that resemble you, but none could match your perfect breasts or pretty pink cunt.

August rolls around and classes start back up. König walks into his social science class and sees you… perfect. You sit in the front, middle. Teacher’s pet know-it-all, of course you’d pick there to sit.

König sits in the very back, where he has a clear line of view in your direction. He watches as you rest your head in the palm of your hand. How you cross your legs and squeeze, as if you’re trying to stimulate some sort of pleasure. Little slut, you can’t even control yourself in class. All the obsession comes rushing back to him. He needs you.

Halloween rolls around. König is handed a flier for a costume party that will be happening at one of the sororities here on campus.  His new friend Carl, your friend’s boyfriend, goes out with him to buy costumes.

 They both walk through the Halloween store and talk casually. He tries to think of ways to ask about you without being so direct.

“Is Christas bitch friend coming?” König chuckles to make it seem less important to him.

“Y/n? Probably not. She never shows to support anything Christa does. When she does, she’s in a foul mood and just leaves. It breaks Christas heart.” He sounded genuinely upset with you and your behavior.

“What’s her deal anyway?”

“I don’t know. Little stuck up virgin bitch thinks she’s better than Christa because she’s waiting until marriage.”

Virgin. That’s why you only touch your clit; you don’t want to “pop” your cherry.

“Is she religious?”

“Probably. I never cared to ask. Let’s just hope she doesn’t show up and ruin it.”

“Yeah.” König didn’t want you to show up, but for a very different reason. He had something special in the works.

Reaching up, König grabs a Ghostface mask and holds it up to his face. “Hey, what about this?”

.

.

Halloween night, König puts on the black robe over a pair of blue jeans, a white shirt, and a small satchel bag that has duct tape and rope. A real knife in his hand. He stood in front of his bathroom mirror, looking at himself. Blonde hair longer and pushed back, dark circles under her icy blue eyes, and a twisted look on his face.

“You got this. You can do it.” He whispers as he slips the mask over his face.

König leaves his shared apartment on campus and walks down the street while the sun is just beginning to set. Other students rush past him, all heading to their own Halloween parties. Towering over everyone dressed as Ghostface, he had a few people jump out of fear. From behind the mask, he apologizes while laughing. As if he is a normal guy.

Finally, he approaches the steps on the sorority. Walking inside he sees that there are a few other Ghostface at the party already. König rolls his eyes under the masks. His attention turns to the staircase as he hears Christa and Carl arguing. Without being seen, he walks closer to listen in. It’s clear that she’s talking about y/n.

You bailed. Probably home studying or making yourself squirt. The thought gives König a chub. You’re exactly where he hoped you would be. At first, he was nervous this wouldn’t work out for him. No, you never change. Easy to track. Before he is seen, he slips out of the doors.

He blends in easily for once in his life. Everyone dressed up like freaks or sluts. The giant isn’t the main focal point today. Once he enters your neighborhood, he notices the empty streets, but very loud house music. All of your neighbors seem to gather, yet your home's lights are on.

Cautiously, he approaches your living room window. Boom, there you are, asleep on the couch. The TV on TLC, some random trash television show. He attempts to lift the window in front of him, but it’s locked. Moving down a window to your bedroom, also locked. König walks around the back and tries the back door, locked. The kitchen window is a little smaller, but he still tries it. Open.

Carefully, König climbs through the window. His massive body just barely begins to fit, but he manages. Slowly he climbs off of the counter that was right under the window, being sure to not kick anything off the counter and possibly wake you up.

Once stable on the floor he stood there for a while and looked around your kitchen. Your style was quirky, which was odd because you act as if you have no personality. Before waking you up, he goes into the bedroom and gets that towel you keep under your bed. He lays it out on the bed the same way you do. Even arranging the pillows and blanket for you.

Reaching into his bag under his black robes, he takes out the rope and tape. The rope he leaves on the bed as he walks out of the bedroom with the tape. He pulls some and he can be quick to shut you up.

With soft steps he makes his way to the living room. He can see your hands are in your hands as if you fell asleep masturbating. A virgin whore. He’s ready to just make you into his whore. Standing over you as you sleep; eyes drifting over your breast and the tiny bit of midriff that is showing.

Slowly lowering his face closer to you until he sees your eyes open. At first it’s as if you didn’t register what you saw. König tilts his head. Then you open your eyes again and begin to scream. Quickly he covers your mouth with the tape.

“Shhh,” his eyes go wild behind the mask.

You try to stand and get away but his massive body easily overpowers yours and slams you back down into the couch.

“Don’t fucking move.” He hisses as he cuts the tape with the knife. Pulling more, he adds an extra layer.

With ease he lifts your body from the couch, pinning your arms to your side so you can’t hit him. Your legs kicking as he brings you into your room; eyes going wide as you see that he set the bed up the same way you set up when you masturbate.

König giggles looking at your face, “I did good, ja?”

He grabs the rope and tosses you on the bed. As you try to stand up, he pushes you back hard, “Give up Maus, you’re mine tonight.”

Using his massive body to pin you down, he climbs on top of you. Your face down into the mattress as he grabs one of your arms and pins it behind your back before grabbing the other. He uses the rope to tie your hands together, tight enough to dig into your flesh.

“I’ll show you how to have a really good time.”

König stands and grabs your body, turning you to rest on your back, nuzzled in the pillows like when you masturbate. He walks to your dresser and takes out the small pink vibrator. You look up at him with wide eyes, it’s clear that he’s been watching you.

“Now, don’t move, or I might cut you.” He says leaning back over your body as he begins to cut your shirt from your body. Your full breasts come into view and he can’t help the temptation of reaching up and pinching your nipple. You try to scream through the tape, but the sound is muffled.

His attention drops down to the waistband of your pajama pants. Slowly he pulls them down. Seeing your cunt face to face instead of at a distance was breathtaking. Speechless, he moves his fingers through the soft hair that covers your pussy. Finally, he can feel you, smell you, taste you.

“If you move, I’ll gut you.” He threatens as he begins to settle himself between your legs.

He lifts his mask slightly and takes in a deep breath of what your pussy smells like. It’s almost sinful. He has to taste it. Slowly he slips his tongue out and swipes it through your folds. You squirm slightly but stop, remembering the knife. He swipes his tongue up again. If he knew you were this sweet, he would have broken in sooner.

Shoving his face into your pussy he takes a deep breath before sucking on your clit. He bites it lightly, causing you pain as your body jerks away. Not letting you move; he wraps his arms around your legs tightly to hold you still. Spit running down his chin as he aggressively laps at your cunt. He slurps your pussy juice before biting your labia. Again, you jerk in pain and König just laughs as he pulls his mask back down.

Once he stands from the bed he just looks down at your naked body. He begins to pull off the black robe, tossing aside the satchel. Stripping down to his birthday suit, but the mask stays on. His body is massive with a cock so heavy it hangs.

He grabs your pink vibrator and turns it on, gently holding it to your clit. His eyes light up as your legs begin to tremble. Muffled little moans escaping your lips. You can’t help but to feel pleasure, even though you’re in this situation.

“Good…kleine Hure.” He turns off the vibrator and sets it aside. Inching closer to you, he slaps his cock on your pussy a few times.

“Ready?”

You shake your head no and try to scoot away from him, but he grabs your legs and drags you back to him. “No, no, no, you’re not getting away that easy.”

Looking down at your cunt he rubs the head of his cock back and forth over your clit. Slowly he slips down. With one hard thrust of his hips, he bullies his monster cock deep inside of your unused pussy. The tightness of your cunt was something only his hand had ever given him.

“Mien Gott, you really were a virgin.” He chuckled.

König grabs your legs and lets them fall over his arms as he holds your ass up off the bed slightly. His hips rolling rapidly into you, looking down he can see blood on his cock. A soft growl leaves his lips.

He lets your legs drop as he leans over you, one of his hands wrapping around your throat lightly. “My fat unprotected cock just ruined your pretty virgin cunt.”

You try to turn your head away from him as tears begin to roll down your eyes, but he doesn’t let you. He turns your head back to face him.

“Eyes open. I want to see the shame when I make you cum.”

You open your eyes as you have no choice but to listen. His free hand reaches down between your legs and begins to rub your clit. Trying to resist the pleasure was impossible, your legs tremble as your pussy feels as if it were torn in two.

He watches as you shake your head no. Your pussy getting tighter on his cock, he knew. He pulls out quickly, shoving his middle and ring finger into you. He presses down on the lower part of your stomach as his fingers curl, hitting your g-spot repeatedly.

You drop your head back and he slaps your pussy, “Eyes on me!” His voice a low growl.

Lifting you head back up to look at him, your eyes cross from the explosion of pleasure you’re feeling. You squirt, hitting the Ghostface mask slightly, getting it all over König’s hands and arms.

“That’s what I want to see!” He excitedly slips his cock back into your pussy. His eyes watch as you wince in pain.

His hips move mercilessly into you. “I’m going to cum deep inside of this pussy. You’re going to get pregnant with my babies. You like staying home anyway, right?”

The look on your face as he talks down to you is full of fear and it’s just enough to get him off. He presses his cock fully into you, your cries of pain muffled buts still so beautiful. König cums deep inside of you. His seamen painting every inch of your velvety walls. A loud groan leaves his mouth as he tries to press in even further.

The look on your face is almost relieved as he cums, that means this is over with. So, you thought. He pulls his cock out, covered in blood and cum. In one quick motion he flips you on to your stomach, pulling you down the bed a little. He sits on the bed now, one leg on either side of you. König leans forward to pull the tape off of your mouth and drags you closer to him by your shoulders.

“You’re going to clean this.” He says slapping his cock on your face a few times. “Open.”

You don’t struggle, opening your mouth wide. The taste of salty cum and blood assaults your taste buds. His hand grasping a fist full of hair and shoving his cock down your throat. Your body thrashes, legs kicking as you gag.

“Get used to it, Maus. My cock isn’t leaving your throat any time soon.”

[helioooss]

hard times

synopsis: you have been dating mina in secret for nearly five years now. things start to fall apart after her fans finally raise speculations about your true relationship with her

w/c: 7.4k ((oops, got carried away and dragged it out))

warnings: mentions of alcohol…lots of angst. actually just pure angst

a/n: if i had a dollar for every time i yelled “girl, stand up for yourself” while writing this, i’d have like $6. againnnn, not proofread, was sleep deprived writing this, also only had 12 hours of free time at work <//3

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The early rays of sunlight cracked through the blackout curtains of your apartment window, sending out golden hues of light to wake you up. You turned over to wrap your arms around your girlfriend, but to your surprise, were met with cold sheets and an empty bed instead.

In confusion, you slowly opened your eyes - melting away any remnants of sleep. As far as you were aware, she had nothing written down on her schedule today.

You were about to reach out for your phone when you noticed the answer to your question: a handwritten note sitting on the bedside table from no other than Mina herself.

A smile tugged on the corners of your lips, she knew you too well.

good morning my love, i got called into a morning meeting with head office today. i should be back home for lunch!

love, minari <3

Sitting up, you let the familiar silence settle around you. You were suddenly reminded of how lucky you were to be a part of Mina's life - to be able to call her your own, she chose you even when the rest of the world wanted her.

Four years later, your love for her only grew deeper with every sunset and beating of your heart. The timeless moments that built your relationship; from the late-night game dates, flying to every tour show, holding her hand as she achieved her dreams and even the silly little arguments that made your relationship stronger — you were grateful for them all.

The light that she brought into your life was otherworldly- she was everything (and perhaps more) you needed.

Though sometimes, there were moments where you wished you could just tell the world about your girlfriend because the world outside of yours, you were only one of her closest friends. At least, her family and friends knew, and to some extent, her company. You could write a million books about her and it still wouldn't be enough.

There was a delicate balance in the fragile world you built together. Mina worked as a popstar and you were an independent producer.

It helped that you grew up with one of her bandmates, Jihyo, who (unfortunately) was always a good first excuse whenever questions were raised as to why you were so dedicated to being present in almost every show. Secondly, you were one of their producers.

Besides that, you had pretty much perfected the art of being Mina's best friend. Anniversaries were orchestrated carefully, always planned months ahead of time and any public appearances involved being friendly with her as possible. Your longing smiles and shared looks were a soft reminder of your love for each other, and that was enough for now.

In the corner of your dimly lit studio, you worked in front of the mixer endlessly - isolated from the rest of the world as you poured yourself into your craft. You were constantly attempting to push JYP into releasing more music outside of TWICE's comfort zone, something the girls had respected you for.

The buzzing of your phone pulled you out of your work trance as you frantically grabbed it out of your pocket. It was Jihyo and it had to be something important if she was calling you at ten in the morning.

"What brings forth the Queen's presence?" you chuckled, however, she held her silence on the other end. "Hello, earth to Jihyo?"

"Have you seen the link Momo and Dahyun sent you?"

You frowned at the seriousness in her tone, the weight of her emotions passing to you. "Good morning to you too, and no, I've been working since I got up."

She heaved out a sigh. "It's not looking too good, Y/N, not good at all."

"What are you on about?"

Within a second, you were scrolling through the group chat you shared with the other members. Multiple links were sent out and you wish you hadn't clicked on it because the sudden doom you were feeling was horrifying - your world had just been turned upside down.

Mina and Y/N - more than friends?

The first one you had clicked was a video compiled of Mina's longing stares, the changes in her mood whenever your name was mentioned and of course, the moments you two shared together in public as friends being carefully dissected. She wore a different persona around you - the one you were only meant to see, and it didn't click to you how painfully obvious it was.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you muttered as you clicked another link, heart racing as you watched the headlines unfold.

This time, it was a tweet; a photo of her in one of her many disguises next to a photo of you and her holding hands at the beach...the only indication pointing to her was the fact that she wore the exact same outfit.

There were more "evidences" but you had seen enough.

You have never felt this violated in your life, years of cherished memories were now tarnished by the mere fact that it was being shared around for the public to scrutinise. It would be a lie to say that you two had not prepared for this, but there was always the illusion of your lives being separate - safe in the world you had built.

"It's going to be okay," Jihyo tried her best to comfort you in her soft voice. "Is she not home?"

"No, she told me she got called into a meeting and I'm assuming it's all because of this mess," you plopped your head against your pillow, a million thoughts already running through your head. "Do you think she'll get kicked out of the group?"

"Are you kidding me?" Jihyo scoffed at you. "We aren't Twice without Mina. The only options for JYP are to either confirm, deny or not say anything at all."

"I'm going to lose her, I know it," you gasped out, running your fingers through your hair. "What am I going to do?"

"You know what Mina always says about you, Y/N?" it was Chaeyoung's voice on the line this time. "That she wouldn't be able to do all of this glitz and glamour if she didn't have you in it. You're her anchor, remember that.

"Thank you," you strung out, voice heavy. "I appreciate it."

"Your relationship will always have our support, we love you as much as we love that penguin."

Mina suddenly barged into your studio a mess; puffy eyed and hair messy. Her face showed a mix of anger, uncertainty and more importantly, fear of what the future held for the both of you. In the middle of all the chaos surrounding your relationship, you opened your arms wide for her and you were met with a crying Mina falling into your chest.

"I'm so sorry, baby," her voice was barely above a whisper. "Tell your family that I'm sorry. Everyone's going to pry into your life and —"

You squeezed her body tight, making her stop as you kissed her temple lovingly. You were just as lost as her. "Have you forgotten that everyone was prepared for this? Don't worry about my family, they'll be fine, I'm more worried about your career."

She looked up at you, biting her bottom lip as hard as she could. "They want me to confirm the old dating rumours I had with Jeno."

"What?" your question held so much frustration and turmoil. Out of all the possibilities you two had considered, you didn't see a fake relationship with another idol coming. "How the fuck is that going to help you?"

"They're convinced a relationship with him will be more beneficial for me than damaging, and it'll stir away all those rumours about us if the public is convinced enough," she replied, her tone mirroring your bitterness. "They also want you to go on friendly dates with other idols and make it look like you do this with everyone else."

Your eyebrows furrowed, your grip on her arms loosening. "And you said okay to all of this?"

"I had no choice," she bellowed out, another set of tears prickling out of her eyes. "It was either I lose you forever or for a short amount of time and I picked the latter!"

You sent her an apologetic look, letting out a sigh. It was a mission to contain the surge of anger flowing through you in front of Mina, it was the last thing she needed. This storm would pass, however, it was sailing together that worried you the most.

"I love you, Y/N," Mina firmly reassured you. "Do you know that?”

"I love you too, I'm sorry."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

In the days that followed, against both of your wills, Mina temporarily moved out of your apartment and "officially" started dating Jeno. Alongside that was the release of a series of photos of you with other idols - seemingly justifying your intimate dates with her.

It felt like a blow to your place in the industry. You weren't just a mere producer to the public now, you were linked to almost every member of Twice and Blackpink, years of hard work overshadowed by dating rumours just like that.

The thing that convinced the public the most were old photos of you and Rosé's friendship resurfacing, all the way back from her debut days. A recent one caught Mina's eye out of all of them; the blonde idol was kissing your cheek at your favourite Italian restaurant out of all places - the one you took her out to for your first date.

It was the sole reason for Mina's silence tonight.

You and the members of Twice were all seated around the dorm's dinner table; candlelights flickering and casting shadows in the room as Japanese jazz played in the background.

She was sitting right across from you, absentmindedly twirling her ramen but still refusing to eat it. The soft hum of their conversations were drowned out trying to figure out how to push your girlfriend's sour mood away. And, she looked so beautiful in the light - jet black hair cascading past her shoulders and perfectly framing her divine features.

"My love, aren't you going to eat?" you whispered gently, a tinge of concern beneath your voice. "You haven't touched your food since I got here. Did you not miss me?"

You hadn't seen her in over a week due to your clashing schedules, most of her free time were spent doing publicity stunts with Jeno and most of yours consisted of missing Mina and hanging out with idols you have worked with at least once.

She sent you a tight-lipped smile, pushing a strand of her hair to the back of her ear. "I did miss you, a lot, I'm just bothered."

You gazed at her, raising an eyebrow. "What about, my darling?"

A rush of warmth made its way to her cheeks as she shook her head. "It's nothing important, I'll tell you after dinner, yeah?" she reached for your hand over the table, resting it on top of yours.

Albeit unconvinced, you nodded with her. She didn't speak to you for the rest of the night, choosing to engage in conversations with the group. It would've been reasonable if it weren't for the fact that you hadn't spoken to or seen her all week - the longest you have spent away from each other so far since you started dating.

It didn't seem to have an effect on her and it stung.

Nayeon nudged you with her elbow, noticing the shift in your behaviour. "And what's going on with you, Y/N? I miss seeing you lurk everywhere, and now all these other girls get to be in your presence."

All eyes were on you now, but yours fell on Mina whose jaw was noticeably clenched. You nervously chuckled, taking a big sip out of your chardonnay. "I know, it sucks, but also a perfect opportunity for me to play around with my tunes, you know? It's exhausting, but hopefully it'll all tone down soon...specially with Mina dating Jeno."

"So, having fun with Rosé?" Mina cleared her throat, tone coming out harsher than intended with hurt evident in her eyes. And it caught you and the rest of the girls off-guard. "I didn't know you guys were that close until those photos came out."

"Yeah," you awkwardly trailed off. "I used to work for Teddy at the Black Label. We've always been close but the years have grown us apart, can we talk about this later?"

"Why later?" her voice cracked, burning you with her stare.

Your face was flushed with embarrassment as you took notice of the girls sinking on their seats, trying to make themselves invisible and far away from her wrath because angry Mina was bad, but jealous and angry Mina was the worst version of her to exist, ever.

"Because I haven't seen you in so long and I'd like to have a good night with our friends," you said quietly. "Is that too much to ask, Mina?"

She got up, not before exchanging strained looks with you, unable to hide her emotions any longer. "She's kissing your cheek in one of the photos for god's sake," she shot back at you, footsteps bearing the heavy weight of the mess she created. "Girls, I'll be in my room if you need me, I'm really sorry for ruining the night."

The stunned silence that followed after her departure hung heavy between all of you. You were completely blindsided by her reaction because it was unusual of Mina. She trusted you and your judgement regarding everyone in the industry, and you had always been transparent about your previous relationships. Rosé wasn't even on the list of people you've dated, she was like a sister to you.

"Go after her, Y/N," Jeongyeon was the first to break the silence, a gentle contrast against the previous heated exchange. "She's under a lot of pressure from the company right now - please go easy on her."

You silently excused yourself from the table, trailing behind Mina a minute too long. You opened the door to her room and your heart instantly ached at the sight of her sitting on the edge of the bed with a defeated look on her face.

She glanced up at you, tears streaming down her face. "I don't know where that came from, that was unacceptable and -"

You took a deep breath, kneeling in front of her as you cupped her face in between your palms. "Baby, what's going on?"

"I'm scared and I'm so tired of following rules and I hate holding the hands of someone I barely know and don't love," she started, shoulders trembling with silent cries. "And I hate seeing you with girls who are so much better than me.”

"My love, there is no else better for me in this world. I will always choose you no matter what," you said, wiping streaks of tears off of her face with your thumb. "I love you more than anyone else in the world, you matter to me the most."

She searched your eyes for any ounce of lies, and all she found was sincerity. "You promise?"

"I promise," you took her hand into yours, placing a chaste kiss on the back of it. "I'm all yours."

Her head was resting against yours and you sat frozen in that position for a long time, cherishing this moment for the rough waves ahead of you two.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

After the first wave, it wasn't long before the cracks in your relationship began to show. You weren't allowed to see Mina for a certain amount of time each week and every interaction with her had to be meticulously orchestrated by her managers - date nights are now rare and she barely replied to any of your texts, it felt like your place in her life was slowly being taken over by Jeno.

Arguments were more common than ever, most of it coming from Mina's side with all the built up frustration at the lack of control in her own life getting lashed in your direction.

In one of the rare nights management had allowed you to see her in the space of your own home; a month and a half after the unraveling of the biggest chaos in your lives, she had specifically told you she only had limited time for two rounds of Fortnite and and maybe an hour or two of Minecraft before she had to leave.

Nonetheless, for you, that was more than enough.

You went out of your way to set up a pillow fort in the centre of your living room, Mina's favourite snacks all on display and even putting up fairy lights all over the space. It was the only way you could try to bring back the intimacy that you both lost ever since being outed by the public.

And honestly, you wanted to remind her that you were so much better than Jeno - that you knew her more than he did.

"So, how long ago did she leave?" you were on the phone to Jihyo like normal. These days, with your movements still limited (the rumours between you and Mina have thankfully died down) you confided in her and she let you.

"She should be there any minute now," the other girl hummed, clapping her hands in excitement. "This is going to make her feel so much better, Y/N, I just know it."

"I really hope so, Ji," her old nickname rolled off your tongue like clockwork. "I miss her so much, I wish things could go back to normal."

"Just hold on a little longer, yeah?"

As soon as you heard the locks turn, you stumbled on your feet trying to make yourself somewhat presentable in front of your girlfriend. "I gotta go, I'll let you know how it goes."

Mina appeared behind the door, a tired smile on her face. In an instant, your arms wrapped around her, being smothered with all the kisses she missed from you.

She planted multiple kisses on your lips, equally missing you. "I missed this."

"I'm so glad you're here, Minari," you pulled her into the living room with your back turned towards her. "Just like old times, hey?"

Your eyebrows furrowed when you were met with silence, confused as to why she wasn't saying anything. So, you turned towards her and you wished you hadn't because you felt so small under her cold gaze.

"What's this?" she began, her tired giggles replaced by an angry scowl.

Your hopeful smile was gone. "What do you mean?"

"I'm so fucking tired, I told you not to do anything special, didn't I?" she rubbed her temples in irritation. "You never listen to anything I say."

Your heart sank at the entirety of her words. Tonight was supposed to be special for you both but Mina's lack of effort and gratitude were beginning to show and it hasn't even been five minutes. "I thought it would've been nice to bring a sense of normalcy back into our relationship."

"Normal?" she scoffed at you, clearly offended by the words that came out of your mouth. "There's nothing normal about our whole situation. It's hard for me to keep up with you when you're always at my back for the smallest things. There is only one of me, Y/N, can't I catch a break from you?"

"Mina...what are you saying? What am I doing wrong?" you stood there, dumbfounded at the lack of context in her words. She was simply rejecting you and it felt like a punch to the stomach.

"You're obviously rubbing it in my face that I'm not putting in enough time into our relationship," her voice was laced with nothing but anger. These days, it was a common tone from her. "Do you know how exhausting it is to act like everything is fine when it's not? To act like I'm in love with someone I'm not? I didn't ask for any of this, I just wanted a night of peace - not a fucking extravagant date."

Your expression softened, heart aching at the sight of her scrambling to let all of her bottled emotions out. She was struggling to balance everything and you hoped that she would let you carry some of the weight on her shoulders. "Okay, we'll get all of this silliness out the way," you were trying so hard not to cry in front of her - you hated making things worse but feeling a sense of rejection from your own girlfriend wasn't exactly the best one.

"Forget about it, don't follow me, please," she added, walking out of the living room and into your shared bedroom.

Your heart broke as she stirred away from you with every step, all you could do was sink on the couch - the fort you built crashing after you. Burying your face into your hands, you let the tears fall: you were losing her, and that realisation had cut way too deep.

Minutes later, deep within your thoughts, you failed to notice the presence in front of you until she wrapped her arms around you, muttering gentle apologies and reassurances.

"I'm here, baby," Mina's tone was laced with a heavy sense of regret, drawing circles on your back just like how she used to. "I'm sorry I took it out on you, again."

"I don't understand what I'm doing wrong," you turned to face her with bloodshot eyes. "I'm trying my best for you and none of it seems good enough."

"None of this is on you," she reassured, placing a kiss on your neck - lips lingering longer than usual. "I love you so much, I don't want to lose you."

"It feels like I'm losing you, Mina."

"I'm here until forever, remember?" she promised, a hopeful glint in her eyes.

"I hope so."

"I do know so," she smiled at you with sincerity, that was all it took for you to forgive her. "Let's smash a few rounds in, shall we?"

Mina somewhat kept her promise of putting more effort in, she fought with her managers more, never failing to defend you from their wrath. With the rumours toning down, you were allowed to be out in public with her and Twice again. Of course she was still dating Jeno in their eyes, but with their schedules constantly not aligning due to his group's upcoming album, the rift that was building between you and her grew smaller because it meant she could see you more.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Things were nearly back to normal again, until you had to meet him.

"Remind me why I have to meet this guy again?" you raised an eyebrow as Momo and Sana both circled around you.

"Because the public is starting to notice that despite being Mina's best friend, you have never been seen around Jeno," Momo described the situation perfectly.

"Um, what?" you chuckled. "I could literally say the same thing about you and him!”

"Okay, but we're idols, and our worlds are bound to crash with each other," Sana defended their situation.

You rolled your eyes. "Whatever you two say."

That same night, you were seated around the candlelit dinner table once again. Arriving a little later than usual, you had exchanged formalities with Jeno against your will, and as much as you wanted to hate him, he genuinely seemed like a nice guy and if the circumstances were any different, you would've liked him.

Cutlery clinging and small conversations that were filled with laughter took up the sound of the room. Instead of taking the seat across from Mina like you always did, you chose the one next to Tzuyu. She didn't even notice.

With him around, she barely acknowledged your presence. If anything, she seemed to enjoy being wrapped under his arms as they all laughed to a stupid joke he made.

"Are you alright?" Tzuyu whispered into your ear when she noticed your white knuckles on the wine glass, carefully treading around your anger.

"Me?" you forced a smile.

"I'm asking you, lovely."

"Why would I not be?" you swallowed the bitterness along with your drink. Her eyes held a bunch of questions, frowning when her bandmate who moved a little too close to you for liking. "I'm feeling great, Tzuyu."

Tzuyu didn't press you any further for the rest of the night and as the evening drew to an end, you had nursed at least a bottle of wine to distract yourself. It only heightened the growing knot of jealousy and despair in your chest as Mina laughed to another joke Jeno had said; leaning in closer to him.

"Please enlighten me on what the fuck the show they're putting on is all about," you asked Chaeyoung with a low voice, and heard by Tzuyu and Jihyo as they turned to you. "Are there cameras around?"

"No," Jihyo shook her head, confusion plastered on her face. "You're going to have to ask Mina that."

Chaeyoung sent Jihyo a warning glare, not wanting her to add any more fuel to the fire. "Y/N, are you sure you're meant to be pouring another glass?"

"We've already taken photos, why the fuck is she acting like this in front of me?" your voice feigned with hurt, ignoring the concerned looks from your friends.

The sight in front of you frayed with your emotions and clawed at your insecurities. They looked so perfect together and she seemed happy. At your expense, you watched as he leaned in closer and captured her lips unexpectedly.

You were met with nothing but only horrified looks from everyone in the room, including Mina. The pain in your heart grew, and the temporary bandaid placed on it ripped apart - the wound you thought was healing was gaping open once again. Without thinking, you slid off your seat; chair scraping harshly against the wooden floors.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go attend more important matters," you held your composure firmly, looking Jeno right in the eye before bowing your head down. "It was nice meeting you, you're perfect for Mina. I hope the rest of you have a good night."

Everyone seemed to hold their breath as they finally pieced what the breaking point in your relationship would be. You turned on your heel, not bothering to look behind you. And with one certainty, you held your head up and slammed the door shut.

Outside, you stumbled down the pavement; the cool winter breeze hitting sharply against your flushed skin. You clenched your fists as you tried to steady yourself through the alcohol and the free-falling of your tears - the picture of Mina and Jeno kissing replaying in your head, sealing it into place.

Behind you were audibly hurried footsteps, and Mina's voice echoed throughout the street as she called for you to halt. You quickened your pace but anyone sober was guaranteed to be faster than you. "Please let me explain, Y/N," she pled desperately, grabbing your arm.

"Explain what?" your voice was cold, another set of tears making its way down your face. "How do you explain kissing someone else in front of me? You barely spared me a glance tonight and now you want me to listen to your bullshit?"

Her grip tightened, fearing that you would slip through the cracks and leave her completely. "He doesn't know about us. It's all my fault, I'm sorry, I know I should've told him beforehand but I assumed he would've gotten the hint after meeting you —"

It felt like another punch to the gut. "He doesn't know we're dating?"

The fake relationship with Jeno was supposed to make things better for you and Mina, but it felt like he was slowly seeping into your lives, casting you to the sidelines. You failed to notice all the Jeno this and Jeno that, but it all came to you at once now.

What you had witnessed tonight; the way she slipped into that fake relationship felt too real - it looked like what you two once had.

Mina's features were etched with fear, eyes glistening with tears, and despite all this mess, she looked gorgeous under the streetlights and your hazy vision. "I love you, please stay over tonight."

Your breath shuddered in disbelief. "You want me to go back and watch you play housewife with this guy? Don't you think your actions have embarrassed me in front of our friends enough, Mina?"

"Okay," she heaved out a sigh, pausing to consider her other options. "Then please let me come home with you tonight."

One thing about her was that she was stubborn - always almost determined to win you back immediately after arguments. You've never felt to defeated in your life; in the back of your mind, you knew you were never good enough for Mina.

In your eyes, she was a bright star with so much ahead of her future and the shadow you casted over only dimmed her; she deserved someone who would let her shine. And tonight, you saw that in him.

You shook your head, turning away from her. "Forget about this, okay? Go home, Mina.”

"Y/N, you're not listening to me," her voice trembled. "I wanna come home to you."

Ignoring her desperate pleas, you continued to walk ahead of Mina - widening the gap between the two of you. In one last final act, her body collided with yours from behind, arms wrapped around your waist tightly.

"Mina," you tried to wriggle your way out, but you undermined the extent of her strength. "Let go, people are going to fucking see!"

"Then let them," she cried out. "I'll end this stupid contract and tell him about you and how I have loved you for the past four years. No more drifting apart, my love, it all ends tonight."

You finally gave in to her touch, allowing yourself to lean against her. You began to think about all the things she gave up for you; ones that would've been beneficial for her career but in the end, Mina always chose you. And tonight was no different from that.

She was willing to defy everyone else, with her career on the front lines, just to keep you in her life - but why?

"I love you," she whispered, breaking the silence. "Please don't give up on me now."

You took a deep breath, turning around to face her. "Okay," a flash of hurt appeared in her eyes as she took a good look at your tear-streaked face - regret filling her body knowing that she caused it.

"Okay what, baby?"

"Okay, you can come home to me tonight...after you do all of that."

Her eyes lit up, pulling your face in for a kiss but you immediately stopped her. She looked at you, a mix of hurt and confusion plastered on her face. "What's wrong?"

"I don't want his germs on me, please brush your teeth first," you put your hand up in disgust. "I'll see you at home, okay?"

She chuckled, nodding her head in understanding. "I love you baby, text me when you get dropped home."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

For the next three months, things settled down for a while. In the eyes of the public, Mina was still dating Jeno - you two figured out that it would be too soon to end it and would only make things worst for the both of you. Their dates were less frequent due to her insistence; she fought for your relationship like she would. And he was extremely apologetic about his actions that night.

The two of you were rediscovering your love for each other, coming out stronger than before. Days were filled with laughter and heartfelt conversation - you were rebuilding your safe space together once more.

Things were good, until they weren't.

You were more careful than before, even after JYP offered an extension of your contract that came with a new apartment in the same building as Twice.

This allowed you to spend more time with the girls whenever you had the chance, hence why you were currently sitting on their couch with a bowl of bulgogi in your hand whilst Mina was away...which seemed more frequent nowadays.

After some blissful weeks together, the shadows of the past were creeping up behind Mina, and the person the came with it was Jeno.

They had frequent shoots for international brands together and were practically the face of the industry after one of their Prada campaigns went viral. The thought that often lingered in the back of your mind, the one that told you that you weren't good enough for Mina, was beginning to resurface in her absence.

"Can you cut more trees for us, Somi?" Chaeyoung rasped out. "Stop swooning that useless and ugly man over, the village doesn't need more mouths to feed right now!"

You chuckled at her frustration, eyes glued to the screen. Tonight's game was Medieval Dynasty, and both Chaeyoung and Somi were new to it. Usually, it was Mina playing it with you but with her often gone, you managed to convince one of her members to play with it - who also swayed her friends, Somi, into it.”

"I don't care, I wanna see useless and ugly babies," she snickered, eyes quickly falling on you. "Can you throw a mouthful of that into my mouth, please? It smells really good.”

"Have some damn shame, Somi," Chaeyoung said, fake annoyance laced in her tone. "Put some in my mouth first.”

"And what makes you two think I'll give you some?" you quirked up an eyebrow. "I asked if you wanted any but you chose to order sushi instead, so live with that decision."

"I just cut you thirty-four trees you ungrateful brat!"

"And I just built you three houses and a hunting lodge, plus I gave you my copper axe."

As the night continued, the nagging doubt inside your mind gnawed stronger - constantly looming over your thoughts. It was nearly midnight and it was unusual for her to be out this late.

to: minari

hey baby, you good? when are you coming home

from: minari

Was out with jeno and some of his members tonight, on mg way home now. Sorry!!!

You frowned; she couldn't even tell you that beforehand. Jamming your phone back into your pocket, you grabbed the controller in frustration again. Jihyo woke up from her "nap" (which was six hours long, you counted) and took the empty space on the couch next to you.

"Was that Mina?" she mirrored your expression. "Why isn't she home yet?”

"Went out with Jeno and his friends," you mumbled, eyes focused on the screen and failing to notice the glances your friends exchanged with each other. "Chaeng, I think you should build a huge orchard. I have all these seeds for you."

Not too long after, the door rang open and Mina stumbled inside; hair messy and eyes red. The scent of alcohol entered the room with her and the laughter faded into concerned looks.

"Hello," she slurred, struggling to kick her heels off her feet. "Hello everyone, sorry for interrupting."

Your heart immediately sank at the state of her, walking over towards her to hold her up. "Christ Mina, how much did you drink?"

She sheepishly smiled at you. "I'd rather not count."

"Okay, let's get you to bed," you said, suppressing your anger for tomorrow's conversation.

As you laid next to Mina with a million thoughts running through your head, you took note of his scent lingering a little too long on her.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The next few days grew longer. Mina was out almost every night, barely making time for you. You were seated on the edge of your bed, hands buried in your face after Mina had slammed the door on you after voicing out your growing concern about her spending too much time with Jeno.

"You know this is important for my career, right?" she immediately turned defensive after hearing the familiar tone in your voice. "Y/N, the man you speak of is actually boosting Twice again. The girls are getting booked more -"

"And that's awesome," you said gently, going back into the mental box you built around yourself after stepping a foot out. "I don't have a problem with that, but Mina, it's affecting our relationship. I'm not seeing you, you're always out and when you come home, you're hammered. I'm not getting any sleep just staying up to look after you, it's unfair, I have work to do too."

That didn't help your case because she just seemed angrier than a second ago. "Why are you being so selfish? It's always about our fucking relationship and never about my career, do you even care about me?"

"Is it selfish to ask you for the bare minimum?" you bit your lip. "I want you to show our relationship a tinge of respect."

"You're so clingy all the time, I can't stand it," her frustrations were cut short with the sound of her phone ringing. "Why do you always start pointless arguments when I'm just about to leave?"

You sent her a glare. "If you leave now, you can sleep at your dorm tonight."

"Perfect," she clenched her jaw with no hesitance in her voice. "Goodbye, have a nice night!"

That night, you accidentally found out from Momo that your girlfriend didn't end up coming home. Accidentally...because she ended up asking where Mina was after she didn't show up to practice.

You knew the worst had already happened a long time, you felt it in your gut. Something shifted in Mina and its been going on for weeks now, the distant look in her eyes, their intimate photos together - she had been pulling away from you for some time now but you loved her too much to let her go.

Four years. Four years of building your life around your future and this was how it was going to end, tainted by her betrayal.

That wasn't even the turning point for you. No, it wasn't when the girls cornered you into a table in an attempt to talk you into confronting Mina about her late nights, not the photos plastered all over online - the ones with her head on his chest outside of a restaurant in Gangnam and definitely not the smell of his perfume on her clothes.

You knew it was truly over when she barged into your apartment one night with marks all over neck.

The room was illuminated by the television, a random Anerican show playing in the background. Your eyes were glued to the clock on the wall, a glass of whiskey on your hand as you waited for her to come home. She was supposed to be here four hours ago for your anniversary dinner...and she didn't turn up.

Mina was now living a fast life and you fell behind. You sprawled out on the couch, loosening the tie on your neck as you pictured a desolate life without her. It would end all the heartbreak, for sure, but could you really do it without her?

The door creaked open, revealing the disheveled woman in front of you. The knot in your chest tightened, eyes failing to ignore the dark spots on her neck.

"Y/N baby, you're still up?" your presence startled her, assuming you'd be asleep by now, she didn't even bother to hide it.

"Do you know what today is?" your grip on the glass tightened when she remained silent. "Happy fifth anniversary."

The severity of her shortcomings instantly dawned on her, rendering her frozen in her spot. It seemed like those three words pulled her out of the safe bubble she had been living in - away from all the guilt that had been eating its way into her chest. She knew that you have known for a while now, yet she was too selfish to let you go.

Deep inside, Mina needed you more than you needed her.

"It's not what you think -" she stammered, struggling to find a decent explanation.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" you asked her, voice dangerously calmer than expected. "You forget our anniversary and come home to me with hickeys on your neck? After five years together, you dwindle me down into a stupid idiot - how could you stoop so low?"

She flinched at your tone, noticing the half-empty bottle of whiskey and a gift box on the table. "I know there's nothing in this world -"

"You only get to speak when I'm fucking done talking to you, Mina," you stood up, towering over her - your anger rising. You couldn't look at her, she was a stranger to you now and the thought of it hurt. "How fucking dare you. After all these years!"

Tears welled up in her eyes, never having seen this side of you. You were always gentle, even during heated arguments where all she did was yell at you, you remained calm. "I don't know what happened, Y/N, but please, give me another chance to make it right."

She searched for love in your eyes and found nothing but indifference. You were enraged, her betrayal slashing deep cuts into the home you built for her inside your heart. Everything was crumbling apart, each fall carrying the weight of your love for her.

"Get out of house," you said through clenched teeth. "And my life."

This was the end.

Mina stepped closer, eyes filled with regret. She reached out for you, but you slapped her hand away. "I love you so much, I'm so sorry for everything. I know I ruined it, but we can fix this, Y/N, I'll do anything just to get what we had back."

You shook your head, refusing to shed another tear for her. "Fix this? I can't even look at you without feeling disgusted. It's gone, Mina, the love that we shared is gone. You threw it out of the window."

She remained silent, the weight of her own actions bearing heavy on her shoulders. "I understand," she nodded slowly, choking a sob out. "But I'll wait for you, until you're ready to fix things with me."

You held your breath. "Don't you get it? There's nothing left to fix. Please go now before I say anything I'll regret.”

"No," she shook her head, trying to intertwine your fingers together. "You and me always forever, right? I love you, please don't leave me."

A forced smile tugged on the corners of your lips as you were starkly reminded of the happy memories you shared with her over the years. It calmed you in an instant. "And let's keep it that way by letting each other go. Don't ruin any more memories for me, Mina, I don't think we can fix this. We have to move on separately."

"Let me remember you," her fingers desperately traced your face, her eyes closed as she brushed over your features - heart shattering at the thought of not seeing them anymore. "I don't know how to let you go."

You gently placed a hand on top of hers, stopping her. "Goodbye, Mina."

Tears cascaded over her cheeks as she tried to understand why she needed to let you go. "I've hurt you enough, haven't I?"

You didn't say anything as your eyes followed her towards the door, each step she took felt like another knife to your chest. As soon as her hand reached the handle, she turned towards you with a grateful smile on her face amidst her tears.

"Thank you, for everything. For being you. And for allowing me to love you. Goodbye for now, Y/N."

The door behind her closed with a gentle thud, the harrowing silence of your loss echoing. The loneliness was beginning to settle in your heart as you threw yourself back on the couch. Memories of her felt so distant now, but the way they made you feel were real. She loved you in those moments.

You weren't certain about what the future held for you, it was going to be a rough road ahead of you but you hoped to find yourself again. And maybe, live a life where love didn't have to hurt this much.

[matan4il]

The other day, I went with my rl bff to the Jerusalem branch of the Museum of Tolerance for an exhibition on the Hamas massacre.

This is the sight that greeted us. "Esthers of the world, rise up!"

It's a poster celebrating two women whose families had lived in Iran, one is Jewish, the other is Muslim, and both women ended up being murdered due to the Islamic regime of that country, even though the Jewish woman's family had escaped Iran and fled to Israel after the Islamic revolution. The face of each girl is actually a composite, made from many smaller pictures of her people who have lost their lives because of the Islamist regime of Iran.

I knew this right away, because I have shared a piece that was done about the poster and how it came to be almost 2 months ago. 

"You don't understand!" my bff (who works as a teacher) said, all emotional, "She," my friend points to the Jewish girl on the left side of the poster, Shirel Haim Pour, "is the cousin of one of my students."

There is zero distance in Israel between us and the Oct 7 atrocities. 

We go in and join the tour of the exhibition. The guide tells us it was built jointly with Malki Shem Tov, who is a well known name in Israel, if you work at a museum. Malki founded a "creative visual solutions" company with his brother Assaf, through which among other things, they helped build many Israeli exhibitions over the years. "His son..." the tour guide starts to say and I don't need more than that for something to click in my head. I know so many of the names, faces and stories of the hostages, and so Omer Shem Tov pops right away into my mind. I didn't make the connection before, but now I can only imagine what it meant for this father to work on an exhibition that recounts, among other stories, how his son was victimized and robbed of his freedom during this massacre.

There is zero distance in Israel between us and the Oct 7 atrocities. 

The opening wall has a huge time stamp, 6:29 in the morning. 

The tour guide doesn't have to explain this number to Israelis, or why it's designed to look like an alarm clock display. We were all woken up on that fateful Saturday morning by the alarm clock of Hamas' rockets. And it doesn't matter what we thought or believed the day before, as the full scale and horror of the attack were starting to become known along Oct 7, we were all woken up.

There is zero distance in Israel between us and those atrocities. I know this, and still it strikes me, again and again.

There's an area dedicated to the pictures of one photographer who went to the south soon after the massacre. I knew some of them already, like the pic showing the bodies of 13 elderly Israelis, who were on their way to a tour of the Israeli south on that Saturday.

Some are new, like the pic of the door handle in one bomb shelter. I stop for a second, because now that I've moved into my new place, it hits me that the bomb shelter door was made by the same company. Suddenly, I feel like I'm inside the picture in a reality where the terrorists took a slightly different route on Oct 7. The door was photographed from inside the bomb shelter, and the bullets that pierced it, they had to have hit the personal holding it shut. The handle has blood stains on it, and it's broken off. I can only imagine how many hours this person held, and how much force they had to use, for that to happen. I know one thing, even without knowing exactly who this bomb shelter belonged to... If this person was on their own, they would have probably ended up surrendering rather than keep fighting to hold on to the handle this desperately. This was likely someone trying to keep their family safe. 

One note retrieved from the body of a terrorist is on display. It says everything about the motivation of the monsters who committed these atrocities, and every word is purely motivated by antisemitism and religious zeal. The note is actually not in Arabic, as it may first appear, it's in Farsi, the language spoken in Iran, hinting at the source, the Islamist regime there, which doesn't care about the liberation of anyone, it aspires to create a global network of fanatic terrorism.

The translation: "You must sharpen the blades of your swords and be pure in your intentions before Allah. Know that the enemy is a disease that has no cure, except beheading and uprooting the hearts and livers. Attack them!"

There is a section dedicated to women's stories. The exhibition visitors spread out to watch the testimonies, each on a separate screen. It's a not like a forest, you can't really see it for the trees, and it's another moment of feeling overwhelmed because we can't truly get it. It's just not comprehensible, facing so many stories about intentional, face to face cruelty, brutality, sadism and joy in it. Mali Shoshana tells the story of how she tried to play dead while lying shot in a pool of her own blood, but her body wouldn't stop shaking, so she somehow turned on her side to the wall and knocked her injured knee against it, causing herself to pass out from the pain. It saved her life. Ricarda Louk tells the story of the last message they got from her daughter Shani, trusting she was right and there was nothing for them to worry about. Then Ricarda's son started screaming and crying, because he saw the same vid many of came across on that day, of his sister being dragged into Gaza stripped down, mutilated, abused, molested and humiliated, while Gazan civilians were celebrating the public degradation of her body. And there's more and more and more. "You can come back and continue to listen," the guide promises as he moves us to the next segment, but the truth is no matter how many stories I've listened to and absorbed, it still doesn't feel like enough.

There is a wall with the head shots of the victims in Israel who lost their lives due to this war, whether they were murdered on Oct 7 or since, but it's only been updated up until Mar 27 of this year. Even so, no matter what angle I tried, I couldn't fit in all of the pictures.

Interactive screens allow a geographic telling of the massacre's story. They show maps of Israel's south, with dots on them, red for the murdered, dark blue for hostages, bright blue for hostages who have been returned, grey for the injured. You can tap a dot and read a story. Or you can zoom out and try to comprehend how is it possible for there to be that many dots on the maps.

"From darkness to light," reads the exhibition title. That's the perception of time in Judaism. We always move from darkness to light. And there's a section for the light, for stories of resilience, of bravery, of rehabilitation, of mutual support and caring. Filmed interviews that do their best to summarize an incomprehensible amount of good we've seen in response to an incomprehensible amount of evil. It features people from every demographic in Israel, and in that way also serves as a reminder of just how diverse we are as a society.

This part, I think to myself, was included for visitors from abroad. We Israelis, we know.

There's one story I know already. Tomer Greenberg, an Israeli officer, rescued on Oct 7 baby twins from the carnage. He was later killed fighting in Gaza. Like a puzzle, I've heard this story from several angles, including from Tomer before he died. This movie features an interview I hadn't heard yet, with the volunteer paramedic that Tomer handed the twins to. Shalom, this medic, talks about how they clung to him desperately as they got to be fed and feel safe and cared for again for the first time in what's estimated to have been 14 hours. I'm sitting there, thinking of those babies crying, not understanding why their parents aren't coming to feed them, and I don't know how to deal with this.

Shalom shares that the experiences of Oct 7 have inspired him to try and become a combative soldier, something that wasn't on the cards for him before that. I wonder again at people who can act like subjecting an entire (already traumatized) society to a sadistic massacre can liberate anyone.

And I understand Shalom fully. When your family is in the pits of hell, there's nowhere you want to be other than there, with them, doing what you can, rather than sit and watch helpless from afar. Most people would say he did a lot on that day. Shalom must have felt like that still wasn't enough.

At the very end, visitors are invited to add their own little piece of light, through neon notes and pens on which they'd share their thoughts. Nothing feels like it can sum everything I'm thinking and feeling up, but not writing anything feels worse, so my bff and I add a few of our words to the notes.

I don't have any profound conclusions for this post anymore than I did for my note. I just know that this still hurts, that we're still losing people daily, that we can't begin to heal, because we're still in the middle of the wound being inflicted. But I also know that we WILL heal, that even if the wound can't be closed yet, our collective immune system kicked into action on Oct 7 already, that we will continue to share the pain and the comfort and the care, and this massacre and war will probably never stop hurting, that we'll never be the same, but eventually we will be alright. Where people choose to care, there's just no other option.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[dj-of-the-coven]

trigun 1998 episode simulator

[3 minutes of guitar solo]

Vash the Stampede: hi my name is Vash the Stampede. I am a hunter of Peace chasing the elusive mayfly of Love. all I really want to do is have a sandwich and a morning coffee without getting chased by bandits

some bandit: (gunshot) absolutely not. square up faggot

Vash: rats.

[gunfight]

Vash the Stampede: my name is Vash the stampede. I am a hunter of Peace chasing the elusive mayfly of Love.could I please have a sandwich

Meryl from the Bernardelli Insurace Society: how long are you going to sit on your ass doing nothing but playing games with children and doing chores for the elderly and disabled and looking after lonely youths and cooking dinner for the homeless

Vash: I've been here for like 2 days

Milly Thompson: Hi Vash!

Vash: Hi Milly

[exit left pursued by bounty hunters]

Vash the Stampede: (panting, entering a bar) my name is Vash the stampede.... I am a hunter of Peace chasing the elusive mayfly of Good L*rd what is going on in here

Hostage: mphdsfhapff!!!! mffmpphhf!!!!

Villain of the week: well if it isn't the elusive Vash the Stampede! you see it all started when I was 4 days old and you kicked me like a football and then exploded my parents to death with a laser canon and killed every puppy in a ten ile (translator's note: this is the No Man's Land equivalent of the American Mile) radius

Vash: I don't remember doing that but well I suppose you can shoot me if it'll make you feel better

Side character of the week: Are you insane? Just shoot him instead???

Vash: but my mom told me not to be mean to people

Villain of the week: (still going) And as I am now 47 years old I have finally decided to get my revenge. Say your prayers, Vash the Pisshead

[Wall explodes and reveals a motorcycle with a sexy priest on it]

[sfx: guitar with a hint of electric distortion]

Vash: is that..... Wolfwood?

Meryl who was in the background this whole time: the priest?

Nicholas Dickolas Wolfwood: (brings his fingers up to a pair of luscious lips to grab the cigarette from right between them, taking one more slow inhale before crushing the cherry red underneath his heel)(sensually cocks one of his 8 guns) Are you just gonna let this guy talk down to you like that needle noggin?

Vash: I g-

[guitar riff bumper]

[guitar riff bumper]

Vash: -uess not, since you're here to help now... (slow, warm smile) Wolfwood

Nicholas D. ranged Wolfwood: Vash

Milly who was also in the background this whole time: Hi mr priest man! isn't this lovely, I haven't seen you since the last time you spoke with mr Vash yesterday evening when you were helping him buckle all those silly belts on his pants after he had lost them somehow

Vash: On a cactus

Milly: On a cactus! Oh it must've hurt so terribly; how fortunate that Mr Priest man was there to help you

Wolfwood: Hi Milly

[gunfight]

Villain of the week: ohhhhh curses!!! CURSES!!!! I have spent my whole existence getting ready to fight Vash the Stampede but he's just too good at swallowing all my bullets!!!!!!

Vash the Stampede: my tragic dead mother would be sad if I didn't swallow everyone's bullets so I've trained diligently every morning at digesting gunpowder without dying immediately

Wolfwood: [internally: I can't believe it. All this time I've spent walking the path of darkness, reaching to a pure light that I could never grasp, and yet here is a man who's dedicated his life and his body to the pursuit of Peace. I wish he were a woman so I could fuck him romantic style. I've got a whole plan for it and everything. Whiskey, sunset, a bed with no sand in it, 6 hours. This would be fully and completely possible if only he were a woman. Unfortunately he's not, but I can still think about the what-ifs. platonically of course. Maybe if he got some good dick he'd stop being so annoying. And maybe he'd stop making me rethink my morals. I wonder if the seven drunken handies meant anything to him. Platonically]

Wolfwood: Well anyway it looks like my job is done here

Vash: (teary) Will I see you again?

Wolfwood: I don't know. And besides, whenever I look at you, I'm reminded of everything I hate about myself. You know, it hurts.

[exit Nicholas D. Wolfwood pursued by repressed homosexual desires and immense catholic guilt]

Vash the Stanned Peat: (looking out the window like a widow whose husband was killed in action) Nicholas... D... Wolfwood.......

Meryl who was in the background that entire time, yes, the whole time: shut the fuck up already

Vash: when will it be my turn Meryl. When

[roll credits]

[ultimate-chickennougat]

| Your Salaryman Husband | (Vol 1)

Vol 2 Vol 3 Vol 4 Vol 5 Vol 6 Vol 7 Vol 8 Vol 9

Salaryman!Kento x Housewife!Reader;

Nanami puts on an apron to help his cute little housewife prepare dinner.

Word Count: 1k

CW: SFW, domestic fluff, fem!reader, newly married Nanami and Y/n,

A/n: First time writing for Kento... thanks for reading!

Your dear husband Kento Nanami was not one to come home late. Ever. 

Even though it had only been about two months since your marriage, the daily routine had already been set, and you couldn't imagine that happening in a decade, let alone on the next day. 

Of course that wouldn't be true in his past profession, as a Jujutsu Sorcerer, but he was back being a salaryman, never going to extra meetings or taking on any more jobs than his work contract required him to. Hence he rushed home, avoiding that dreaded overtime that the younger company members fought for. Even then it took a lot out of him.

Mr. Kento Nanami was a diligent worker from 9 o'clock in the morning to 5 o'clock in the afternoon. A senior manager at an investment company, his pure skill and dedication was the only way he could get that position. He never tried to do anything more than what he had to, which was providing customers with the best investment services he could. And you, the new Mrs. Nanami was his lovely housewife, always there to greet him when he got home. It was always the most comforting thought he had, while listening to the executives drone on about profits, and training the newcomers eager to reap those rewards as well. But then again, that is why he was in that business too, right? 

As per usual, he quickly packed up his things and headed to the elevator right after the hour hand hit 5 on his watch. Ideally he would be home in the next thirty minutes, far more eager than his other coworkers. A promotion was not awaiting him since his marriage, but that wasn’t a concern. He had enough saved up for an early retirement anyway, and, more importantly, one would take away from his precious time with you.

While his heart beat was steady, walking to the train station as he did everyday, yours was much more rampant.

Rushing around the kitchen, you hurriedly washed and cut vegetables, meat, and ground spices as fast as you could. Dinner was expected to be served at about 6:00 pm that night, and afterward would be a relaxing evening with your husband, who would be done for the week. While the daily routine was solidified, the speed of your cooking was not. Especially when your carefully laid out schedule of repotting the plants, cleaning the bathrooms, and doing laundry took a bit too long for each one. It was already 5:15, and you had just popped the tarts into the oven. 

Today's dinner consisted of a thick stew, crusty white bread, and miniature fruit tarts for dessert. With some preparations the day before, it was a plan that should have taken about two hours, most of which would be idle cooking time. That of course, did not happen. 

Your usual greeting of your husband at the door was foiled for the first time. He opened the door promptly at 5:33 PM, about the same time as every day, yet for once you weren't there.

Setting his briefcase down and removing his jacket, he walked through the living room into the kitchen, hearing your not-so-subtle whines of frustration, the scent of sweet fruit and grilled meat filling the air.

Married life is full of firsts, many of which were known to you and Nanami alike. Your first kiss being married, your first date being married, among other things. But what he didn't expect to focus on were the little ones he saw everyday. The first time you screwed up your daily routine, of course, and the first time he got to see you cooking his dinner in your cute little apron.

You quickly turned around hearing Nanami enter the kitchen. "Kento..!" you muttered, knife in hand chopping vegetables with great fervor. He chuckled softly, your knuckles had turned white from the grip, and carrots rolled off the cutting board.

He strolled over to the cabinet, pulling out a simple white apron, not before giving you a quick kiss on the cheek from behind you. "I see you've been quite busy today, my love," he put the apron over his head and tied it in the back, before turning towards your work.

His knees dug into your thighs, as he reached around your body and grabbed the knife from your hand. "How about I finish this for you?" he asked, already starting to chop away. "Aren't you tired from work? You can go sit down, darling," you tried to move away from him, though he gripped your stomach lightly with his other arm, pausing his work. "It's not tiring at all, standing here with you, my cute wife."

He put his head on top of yours, enjoying your warmth and the scent of food cooking, what you've been toiling away with for the past few hours. “I might not be as good of a cook as you, my love, but I think my knife skills are decent enough.” He continued, making quick work of the pile of vegetables. "Darling, the tarts are burning," you gently pushed him away, rushing over to the oven and pulling them out.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to greet you. I'll make sure to be there tomorrow." you spoke softly, lifting the tarts onto the cooling rack. "I was wondering where my wife's face was. I see you've had quite the predicament in here," Nanami scraped all the vegetables in the pot, and covered it with water as instructed. It would still be about half an hour until done, being finished only 15 minutes late thanks to his help. 

Nanami stared deeply as you joined him in the living room. Your fingers carefully undid the tie of your apron, as you started to take it off. "Have I ever told you how good you look in that?" He mentioned, standing up off the couch. You yelped, as he helped to pull it off your head. "...Thank you, darling. You look very dashing in one as well." You muttered, a subtle blush coating your cheeks. 

"I look forward to seeing you wear it tomorrow, my love." He chuckled as he sat down at the dining table, ready for the dinner you prepared together.

[tthatsonme]

Intellect, by molly.

— People often underestimate the seriousness of your sudden shift of motivation, in this day and age; it’s uncommon to see anyone (especially younger people) read a book or have any interest in having goals whatsoever, but you’re different, you’ve set the curve, you’re the centre of attention and everyone should be like you especially when it comes to academics, parents are constantly asking you to teach their kids your way because of how effortless your work ethic and dedication to school seems.

— Whenever the teacher needs an example on how to do a math equation or what a well written and worded essay SHOULD look like they always hold up your assignments as an example, you are 100% the best example of what a student should be like an any generation but especially this one, all of the parents and guardians with the “brain rotted iPad babies” or “wasting their lives away because of technology addiction teenagers” beg you to tell them what your “secret is” but maybe you’re not even fully aware of your greatness or level of discipline and success.

— You have a very distinct and important morning routine that you do every day, whether your routine has 4-steps or 40-steps it’s almost like it’s been burned into your DNA to follow it daily, your routine is not optional, you have the most perfect sleep schedule it’s almost as perfect as you, but in case you need a late study night you wake up everyday well rested regardless of whether you slept a full 8-hours or not, your memory to do things is amazing, you have a better memory than most people in your classes, you remember everything that you hear, read, and write in terms of school, you remember how to spell everything, your handwriting is always neat and legible, you could basically rewrite the dictionary at this point, fun fact: most people in this generation aren’t fluent in English because of the lack of spelling and vocabulary (my teacher said this so it’s probably true), while the other people in your class are crying over the phone ban if you have you you’re perfectly fine without your phone for 6-8 hours a day, you’ve never had any issues writing stories or having original thoughts, you have an extremely expanded vocabulary and are an amazing writer, “You don’t use brain rot?? Nerd alert!” It’s surprising to hear someone only use quote “brain rot terms” ironically, whilst the rest of the world is having unintelligent conversations about skibidi toilet and whatnot you’re the complete opposite.

— You have no issues in and are the best at all forms of mathematics, geometry, algebra, calculus, arithmetic, trigonometry, number theory, statistics, set theory, topology, discrete mathematics, probability, combinatorics, numbers, mathematics analysis, analytical geometry, differential equations, applied mathematics, game theory, pure mathematics, linear algebra, numerical analysis, and matrix algebra, natural sciences, engineering, medicine, finance, computer science and social sciences, biology, chemistry, physics, astronomy, earth sciences, zoology, ecology, microbiology, astrophysics, neuroscience, logic, ethics, psychology, philosophy, mechanics, and social sciences, morphology, sociolinguistics, pragmatics, psycholinguistic, linguistics, phonetics, historical linguistics, stylistics, and computational linguistics plus whatever other courses and classes that you have. [If this last part seems random it’s because it is, it’s copy and pasted from a personal sub I made a year ago for 11th grade :p]

_Things to remember

You can and will only ever manifest what you desire from this subliminal

Make sure not to obsess over your results because they can lead to limiting beliefs

You don’t have to listen daily or 1-7 times or anything like that, one is always enough with any subliminal :)

[monstersdownthepath]

Monster Spotlight: Howler

CR 3

Chaotic Evil Large Outsider

Bestiary 2, pg. 159

These cruel, sadistic porcupine-cats are one of many non-demon natives to the Abyss, stalking its numerous environs for prey worthy of their attention. Like most Outsiders, they don't need to eat; they hunt and kill purely for the fun of it, stalking sapient victims in groups as large as 4 at a time to maximize the target's fear and pain as they're torn into from every angle. The fact they don't need to eat and instead just kill whatever they happen to come across is reflected well in their statblock; they don't have Scent or any ranks in Survival, which would allow them to track potential victims, but instead they have monstrous Acrobatics (+10 normally, +22 when jumping), Climb (+12), and Perception (+13) to--respectively--get the literal drop on creatures they spot from afar.

Howlers don't have a climb speed, but they DO have a 60ft base land speed, making them faster than almost anything they could be chasing and allowing them to move as fast as most creatures sprint whenever they're using half their movespeed climbing around or using stealth... Not that they really want to be stealthy. Yes, they have a token +6 to Stealth, but one look at their name should hint to you about what they really want to do: Howl. Constantly.

And by god, do they howl. Their Howl is three things, the first and foremost being an intimidation tactic; the supernatural sound carries for 120ft in every direction around the Howler, allowing them to use their Stealth in a completely different way than most creatures because, much like the piercing sirens of an ambulance or fire truck, it's impossible to tell which direction the noise is coming from until the source is practically on top of you. The second portion of the Howl is that it serves as the language for these creatures; they can understand Abyssal, but their own max-decibel language can only be parsed by others of their kind (and very dedicated demonic handlers). The Howl not only disorients and distresses prey, but alerts other nearby Howlers that a hunt is afoot, and conveys just what is being hunted.

As for the third portion of the howling... While they'll kill anything they come across, Howlers especially prize non-Outsiders and mortal creatures, as such creatures are vulnerable to having the Howl reverberate throughout their minds until they go completely insane. Any creature that's within that 120ft shriek radius has to make a DC 12 Will save every single round or become cursed to hear the howling for hours to come, taking 1 point of Wisdom damage every hour from there on out unless they succeed another DC 12 Will save to end the curse. There is no 24 hour immunity clause; you have to make the saves against the cursed howl every single round until you either kill the creature, silence it, or get hit with the curse.

The curse only matters, though, if you escape in the first place, something that they're not exactly willing to allow. They thankfully lack the ability to Pounce or anything similar, and despite the visible presence of some nasty claws, Howlers don't have any claw attacks! They're also kept in check by a 5ft reach despite being Large, likely because all they have is a bite attack (1d8+4) and slamming various parts of their bodies into nearby creatures to jab them with the quills that cover their forms (1d4+2).

Similarly, any creature making contact with a Howler, be it through a non-reach melee weapon, an grapple check, or a natural attack, contends with its Quill Defense and takes an automatic 1d4+1 damage that offers no chance to avoid it. Any creature damaged by the quills through any means must make a DC 14 Reflex save or have one of the needles break off and wriggle deeper into their flesh, causing an irresistible agony to surge through their body, which sickens them... meaning they have a harder time fighting back, resisting the Howl, AND stopping further quills from jabbing into their flesh and breaking off. A DC 15 Heal check as a full-round removes the quill, but only one at a time (+1 quill for every 5 points you roll over the DC), and you may have seven or eight of the things sticking out of you by the time you've dispatched the Howler and its pack!

... y'know, if you survive. They don't have the highest damage, and they don't have any resistances or immunities, but they have a very reliable source of the sickened condition (which lowers the victim's damage rolls!) and constantly damage any creature hitting them in melee. It adds up, especially if you're at a point where the DM is sending a full back and then some after you and you're making iterative attacks, sticking yourself over and over on its spines and likely shouting increasingly creative expletives as you do. Don't worry, no one else can hear your rage over the constant howling!

You can read more about them here.

[dragon-business]

Y0 antagonists ratings/opinions

Mister(s) Shakedown(s) + Amon

Didn't get to Amon in Y0, because we didn't finish these quests. One of the few that we didn't do in full, actually. Didn't seem as fun at the moment. Amon gets a pass, because he gets more screen time in later games. 

Evilness: 4/10 robbing people is bad, I heard Forgetability: 7/10 hard to forget, when Amons are in each game Iconic level: friend of a mutual tells me they’re cool/10 memes Free slot: ????too hard to get through to the good parts

2. Helicopter-car chases

These sequences was pure torture. My hands were cramped even when I wasn't holding the controller. Every minute lasted an hour. The fucking bazookas? Infuriating. Worst survival horror game.

Evilness: 9/10 fuck this shit, let me out of the car Forgetability: 1/10 still feel the cramps .__, Iconic level: 0.5/10 “look, just like in the movies, right?” Free slot: 1,5/10 on enjoyment scale 

3. Cult leader from the substory

Pretty funny scam artist, all the later games character development got him on the list. We love us a lil fucked up reoccurring character.

Evilness: 8/10 doing terrible things to vulnerable people Forgetability: 4/10 forgot about him each time until the next appearance Iconic level: 4/10 will never forget that dance Free slot: retirement home for one million years for the grandpa

4. Dojima captain guy 1

????????

Evilness: 7/10 he’s a yakuza, after all, he’s done some bad stuff, probably Forgetability: 10/10 who? Iconic level: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Free slot: forgot he existed

5. Dojima captain guy 2

Purple suit guy with the boxing/dancing ring in the basement was pretty fab. He gets extra points for the drip. Otherwise idk what he- wait he saved Majima that one time? Huh. You keep learning things.

Evilness: 7/10 normal yakuza guy doing yakuza things Forgetability: 9/10 I know he was there, I guess Iconic level: 3/10 purple suit points Free slot: purple suit, that’s all I remember

6. Kuze

First fight with him was pretty tough. And then he just kept coming back, again and again. With desperate determination. And Kiryu got stronger and stronger between each encounter. And Kuze stayed on the same level, just looking more and more beat up. And that's amazing storytelling through game mechanics, but also really iconic, ngl. 

I mean, man rode a dang motorbike in the sewers. He got the motorbike in the sewers, positioned it in the right spot to start the chase (did he get help for that?), and then rode it down there, through the nasty Kamurocho pipes, hunting down an annoying twunk like a medieval baron chasing a boar. All this while already beat up by said twunk. And he gets beaten again. Rolling in that sweet sewage water in his bandages. 

Evilness: 6/10 he’s out there vibing to his own tunes Forgetability: 1/10 he Will Not Let You Forget about him, even if you’d want to Iconic level: 8/10 meme icon Free slot: he seemed like real threat at the start, but by the chase in the sewers he was our pal, our failmate bro, all the respect to his dedication o7; 4/10 on actual fights and smartness

7. Kashiwagi 

He's on the list for what he did to Nishiki. Just sent the brother of his son to kill, uhh, his son. Just like that. Like, I get that he had his reasons, he really thought he was doing good, he thought he's saving Kiryu from suffering. Because of course it is all about Kiryu and what he supposedly (probably) (maybe) needs.

Evilness: 7/10 good intentions on the way down Forgetability: 0.5/50 look at him slurping cold noodles in his first scene, he’s stealing the show Iconic level: 7.5/10, again, look at the man eating noodles like a dad Free slot: 2/10 top tier dad, bless. 

8. Sagawa

He's such a masterfully done abuser. Partially because he acts so nice. But there's always an unnerving feeling underneath it.

He only resorts to violence when everything's gone to shit. But it always feels like he's capable of it at any moment. It's like a rock constantly looming over, waiting to drop.

Evilness: 8.5/10 on the creep scale, very good for the story Forgetability: 2/10 he’s in your walls, he owns your walls, your balls, and your paycheck Iconic level: 6/10 smartly dressed Free slot: 1/10 as a person, would deck him on sight; thank g-d Majima's away from him now

9. Shimano

Smart, playing the long game, but really, in Y0 he seemed smarter than he is. 

Long distance threat to Majima's safety, the threat he has trouble seeing as one. And that's the real kicker, that's the horror of it all – Majima striving to get back in the family, back under Shimano's thumb in his self-destructive last mission quest. Majima deciding to come back/stay even after the Hole, after y0, Majima getting so close to freedom but not being able to grasp it, and rationalising staying near Shimano for years, rebelling, but never separating in full.

And Shimano perfectly understands the power he has over Majima, and is always ready to use it. To break him at a moment's notice, if it will be useful for his plans. And this is way more uncomfortable and terrifying than Sagawa's brand of underlying threat.

Evilness: 12/10 made us start the “save Majima” movement Forgetability: 0/100 burned into my brain in the worst way possible Iconic level: 3/7 fashion sense is kinda bland, but he does have a presence Free slot: again, would deck on sight, but still – amazing character writing, very cool points for Majima’s story

10. Oda

Big oof moment, amaright?..

Such a fascinating character. He's not stereotypical, and has a compelling, layered personality, which is amazing for a gay man in the big hit game. But also. Ooof. Such a big oooof.

But, surprisingly in this day and age, it's not being gay that made him a piece of trash awful man who died. He was all that on his own, it was just his shit finally catching up to him in the end. And the love for Tachibana was actually his saving grace in life, a point of growth as a person (albeit small). So not denying him that, no. Even one-sided, it made him more human. 

Idk if writers did all that on purpose, but these points felt very distinct in the story.

It's fascinating how Oda's character is a (terrible) person first, and he just happens to be gay. But also, him being gay is ultimately important. We played y0 before all the gay shows took over the screens, and this storyline hit us like a train. Can tell you a lot about the state of queer media at the time.

– Me, after we've met Oda: hehe, he totally has it for the boss The plot: 

– Me, after seeing them interact on screen: hehe, Tachibana is making him suffer :3c Me, when plot: .___.

Evilness: 9.5/10 the 0.5 is from his love for Tachibana  Forgetability: -100/10 I lay awake at night thinking about this bitch Iconic level: 1000/5 look at him, man’s shining Free slot: Bidoof

11. Nishitani

Hated him at the start, because he's a creepy cat, because of the noises, and also because of that one slide on the ground with the knife wiggle, you know the one. Unironically love him now, because the world out there is full of far worse people, and he sure did his attempt at surviving it.

(He totally crawled away at the end, no body no finale, I stan by this)

Evilness: 7/10 he's pretty fucked up, ngl, bringing corpses to Majima like a stray cat Forgetability: -10/10 lives rent free in everyone's head Iconic level: 9/10 man's been on the screen the least but made an impression of a lifetime (on all of us, and on Majima) Free slot: yet another normal cat that everyone think is a "mad dog"; honorary Knife Guy

12. Dojima

Organized a wholeass hunt for Kiryu, got Makoto shot, planned a big power grab, put it all on the table… and lost it all. To Sera.

Respecting him for the effort, he didn't let us rest once. Not respecting what his drinking (and other life choices) made him into later, but even before that I struggle to see what Yayoi saw in him. Apart from maybe her being a young girl from a yakuza family that arranged a political marriage for her when she wasn't even 20 yet. And there is a story here that can be very interesting, like, did you know that (according to rggo) at this exact time Sera was a student that was often arrested on protests? In this essay I will-

Evilness: solid 8/10 he do be scheming Forgetability: 1/10 dragon of who, you say? (Kiryu is very much the dragon of Daigo by this point, but yeah) Iconic level: 5/10 dressed good and has big presence, but derails down the line to a total (not hot) mess, so no respect  Free slot: you know, right? Daigo is totally Seras' so- *gets gutted by Yayoi*

13. Knife guy

When Kiryu went through his (and ours) first Long Building™️ to get to the (first) fight with Kuze, we encountered Him. The guy with the knife. 

It was already tough going through room after room of generic enemies when Kiryu wasn't that strong yet, and we weren't that skilled with the controls. And the Knife Guy was the first recurring enemy, a small mini-boss with a stabby knife that would bleed us dry and leave us savescumming. And he kept coming back. Again, and again, and again, and-

Before Kuze. Before Majima Everywhere. Before everything. There was an unkillable lil freak with a knife that just wouldn't quit until you literally threw him out of the 2nd floor window.

And I think it's beautiful.

Evilness: 5/10 man’s just doing his yakuza job, and doing it well Forgettability: -10000000000/10 who could ever forget this man the- *checks notes on the hand* Tomoda Iconic level: ∞-1/10 there is a knife guy shape forever imprinted in our hearts but there is still free room left, because Free slot: in this world only Majima surpasses him, because Majima is, of course, The Ultimate Knife Guy

- before / navigation / next

[blackbacchus999]

Fig Wine: An Offering to Dionysus Sykites

In ancient times, the fig was revered as a sacred fruit, especially in the worship of Dionysus Sykites, the deity of the fig tree. To honor him, creating fig wine is a perfect blend of tradition and tribute. Here's a step-by-step guide to making this delightful offering.

Ingredients:

12-16 cups of water4 lbs of fresh figs, coarsely chopped

3.5-4 lbs of granulated sugar

2 campden tablets

1 packet dry wine yeast

1 tsp. yeast nutrient

2 tsp. acid blend

1/2 tsp. pectic enzyme

1/4 tsp. tannin

Instructions:

Preparation of Ingredients: Begin by gathering 4 pounds of fresh, coarsely chopped figs. The fig, a symbol of fertility and abundance, was cherished by ancient Greeks who believed it held the essence of Dionysus Sykites.

Creating the Must: In a large fermenting vessel, combine the figs with 12-16 cups of water. This mixture, known as the must, forms the base of our wine. Ensure the water is clean and pure, as it represents the purity of your devotion.

Sweetening the Mixture: Add 3.5 to 4 pounds of granulated sugar to the must. Stir well until the sugar dissolves completely. This sweetness mirrors the generous spirit of Dionysus, who brings joy and ecstasy through his gifts.

Sanitizing: Crush 2 Campden tablets and stir them into the must. This step is essential for sanitizing the mixture, eliminating any wild yeasts or bacteria, and ensuring that our offering is pure and fit for the god.

Fermentation: After 24 hours, sprinkle 1 packet of dry wine yeast over the must. This yeast will transform the sugars into alcohol, a process symbolic of transformation and rebirth, core themes in the worship of Dionysus.

Enhancing Fermentation: Add 1 teaspoon of yeast nutrient, 2 teaspoons of acid blend, 1/2 teaspoon of pectic enzyme, and 1/4 teaspoon of tannin. These ingredients will aid the fermentation process, enhance the flavor, and ensure the wine matures beautifully.

Fermenting: Cover the vessel and let it ferment for about a week, stirring daily. During this time, contemplate the ancient rites of Dionysus, who was celebrated with wild revelry and profound introspection.

Secondary Fermentation: After a week, strain the liquid into a secondary fermenter, discarding the fig pulp. Seal it with an airlock and allow it to ferment for several weeks to several months, depending on your desired strength and flavor.

Bottling: Once fermentation is complete, carefully siphon the wine into sterilized bottles. Seal them tightly and let the wine age for at least 6 months. The aging process will deepen the flavors, making your offering even more potent and meaningful.

Offering to Dionysus: When the time is right, pour a libation of your homemade fig wine on your altar, dedicating it to Dionysus Sykites. As the wine flows, invoke the god’s presence and offer your thanks for his blessings.

This fig wine, crafted with reverence and care, is more than just a drink; it is a connection to the ancient past and a heartfelt offering to the god who brings joy, transformation, and ecstasy. May your dedication to Dionysus Sykites be rewarded with his divine favor.

According to Clement of Alexandria. Prosymnos was a shepherd who guided Dionysus in the underworld. As a reward for his help, Dionysus promised to fulfill a sexual favor for Prosymnos (he wasnt able to feel pleasure anymore and asked Dionysus to grant him that) but Prosymnos died before the promise could be kept. To honor his promise, Dionysus fashioned a piece of wood into a phallic shape and used it in a ritualistic manner. In some versions of the story, Hades transforms Prosymnos into a Fig Tree and thats the wood Dionysus used. This myth highlights the themes of promise, transformation, and the blending of life and death, common in Dionysian narratives.

[bae04xx]

this is so random but i’ve been rewatching harry potter so here you go x

platonic golden trio x pegasus rider reader head canons

• y/n grew up around pegasuses, having her own stables on the farm she lived on

•she was partially famous by the time she was 6, after completing in the young adults races, show jumping and dressage - and placing first in all 3 categories

•her talent was ridiculous, by age 8 she named the rider of the century, competing against anyone and anybody who dared to test her

•she was watched by the public eye, all anticipating when she’d been sent to a witching school, while her coming from an incredibly old pure blood line also made her quite well known, her riding skills made her and her family’s reputation boom

•when she first got her hogwarts letter she ecstatic, her mum had put her in magical tutoring since 5 so she would be far above anyone else, yet y/n wasn’t trusted with a wand while being so young, so she was taught spells with a flick of her wrist and by using the power of her words

•while her mum was happy for her, she was worried about her riding career, considering the boarding situation at hogwarts and how they lacked in a stables like theirs, or even a stables. but after sending a few owls to dumbledore he arranged something with hagrid

•while it wasn’t as posh as y/n was used to, hogwart’s stables had 3 new pegasus and 1 from her home. 1 of the new ones was fully bombproof while the other 2 needed breaking in, hagrid was now her new instructor- not that she needed 1

•while at her daily lessons, she ran into harry potter, ron weasley and hermione granger. a small, friendly group of gryffindor misfits

•while the group of 4 all looked up to hagrid, y/n was especially close with him, staying at his hut for hours on end, going on hacks, constant riding with him, he was like a father figure to her

•harry was her bestfriend, they instantly clicked, they both new what it was like to be misunderstood and idolised by others, while harry’s fame was more on the misfortunate side, they could still relate to the down falls of being in the public eye. y/n was harry’s rock, his go to girl, a shoulder to cry on, someone he could depend on, and he loved every second he spent with her

•hermione was someone y/n idolised, being her study buddy was a privilege y/n held so close to her heart, happy to show it off to anyone. they bonded over the fact that they both appreciated hard work, dedication and resilience. while one applied that to their studies and the other applied that to their career- they both understood each other

•ron was someone who was just a joy to be around, and y/n was so happy to be in his presence after a long day- just being around him was like a weight was lifted off her shoulders. his easy going attitude was nothing like the hard-core, crushing work she had to deal with everyday. his jokes and chilled attitude calmed her, and ron enjoyed watching her shoulders soften around him

[sardonic-the-writer]

sard i think its kinda evil of you to get me into a fandom and give me no choice but to make a self-insert. how am i supposed to obsess publicly about a little guy who purely lives in my headf....like at least 30% of my brain space is dedicated to the lore of my TD and now SPN sona as well. i have already killed the spn sona's mom. its been like 6 hours helppp

this is exactly what i was born to do. god how i love watching other people make self inserts,,,

join the dead sona mom club my friend. and boy what a club it is

[seraphimcollections]

till death do us part | Soap Fluff |

warnings: light mentions of violence(active warzone) but nothing graphic, mentions of guns, that's it. Pure fluff, nothing X rated. No Y/N but reader goes by Doll.

prepared to be sick of me!

word count: 1k (short and sweet)

summary: you and Soap have been dating for a little while and decide to take things to the next level...in an active warzone.

a/n: love this goofball, had to give him a little appreciation :)

You and Soap had gotten on pretty early from meeting each other. It was clear that the two of you were made for each other, always laughing at his cheesy jokes and pick up lines. From the moment you’d joined the task force you were to be his. Johnny wouldn’t think of himself as possessive, but the message was clear to everyone around, you weren’t to be even looked at the wrong way. When the two of you decided to go steady, Johnny walked onto base with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face. 

“What, did you win the lottery or something?” Gaz looked at him with quirked brow.

“Better,” he grinned. 

The two of you weren’t trying to hide your relationship at all, finding it impossible with how forward Johnny was, even before the two of you started dating. Price had a stern talking to for the both of you, but saw there was no real reason to prohibit the relationship from existing. And so it was. Your mornings would be getting breakfast at the diner, coffee for you, tea for him. After that, the two of you would have your own separate training to report to, keeping you away from each other for a few hours of the day. But other than that, the two of you were inseparable. 

It was your dedication  to each other that landed you in this exact situation. You were on a mission, a mission that was supposed to be a cake walk but quickly dissolved into chaos. The team was separated, all dealing with their own crisis, all except you two. 

Johnny pushed you into cover behind a tipped over delivery van, quickly diving after you. You fell back against the truck, trying to catch your breath as you reloaded your magazine. You only had two left. Great. 

“You hurt, lass?” Johnny looked over you in worry. 

You shook your head, letting out a sigh of relief. You gestured to your SMG with a frown. 

“I’m almost out though,” you said. 

Johnny nodded, pushing on his radio, “Bravo 6, you read?” 

“Read, you and Doll in the clear?” Price said over the radio. 

“Not quite, lass and I pinned down,” Johnny said. 

“Shite, hang in there, clear out as many as you can until we call for evac,” Price ordered. 

“Aye,” Johnny said with a frown, looking over to you. 

You shrugged with a small smile, “eh, could be worse-” 

Not even a second later and rain of bullet fire came down on your cover, the both of you crouching lower in hopes to not be hit. 

“Shit, fuck, shit, fuck-” 

“You said that already, love” you smiled before becoming serious, “what do we do?” 

“Stay down, and if any get close, on sight,” John said. 

You nodded in agreement, keeping your head turned to listen to the gunfire. But the funniest thought came into your head causing you to giggle. 

“Can’t imagine what you find so funny from this sorry shitshow we’ve got ourselves into,” Johnny smirked. 

“It’s stupid, but…” you looked to him with a smile, “if we get out of this-” 

“When, when we get out of this,” Johnny corrected. 

“Yeah, when we get out of this,” you smiled, “I want to get married.” 

Johnny's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. He nearly dropped his gun right then and there as he looked for any hint of a punchline. 

“You’re serious?” He said. 

“Yeah, I mean, you never know if either one of us won’t come home, and I don’t know about you, but I’d rather go out knowing I’ve spent the best of life with the one I love.” 

For a moment, Johnny was left speechless, which was a rarity, before a grin took over his shocked expression. 

“You know lass, it’s usually the man who proposes,” he laughed. 

You shrugged, “who says you can’t propose?” 

Johnny smiled, turning to you, “I don’t have a ring yet, lass.” 

“Don’t need one,” you smiled, “not when I have you.” 

“Alright, love,” Johnny fixed himself to sit on one knee, “will you make me the happiest man on earth and give me the honor of being your husband?”

You smiled wide, tears welling in your eyes before eagerly nodding, “yes, yes!” 

You wrapped your arms around Johnny’s shoulders, meeting him in a gentle kiss. Pulling away, Johnny didn’t look away from your loving gaze. 

“Why wait for a bloody ceremony, we’ll do it now,” he smiled. 

You looked at him in confusion as he pushed the radio on again. 

“Cap, you there?” Johnny said. 

“I'm a bit busy here!” Price said roughly over the intercom. 

“Me and Doll are getting married,” Johnny said, his gaze never tearing from you, “we want you to officiate the weddin’ now.” 

“What the- bloody now?!” John shouted over the radio.

“Better now than never,” Johnny said. 

“Do I look like a fucking priest to you?!” Price said before gunfire interrupted his words. 

“You’re a captain aren’t ya?” Johnny joked. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding,” Gaz said. “You two are crazy.” 

“Congrats to the happy couple,” Ghost said coolly as if not in the middle of a warzone. 

“Not of a bloody boat --This is fucking crazy,” John grumbled, “alright, alright! Johnny, do you take Doll to be your wedded wife?”

Johnny captured both of your hands in his, staring deeply into your eyes with longing. 

“I do.” 

“And, shit-! What I just said,  Doll!” John shouted over the radio. 

You sniffled, “yes, yes, I do.” 

“Now kiss you bloody lunatics!” John said. 

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” Johnny grinned, smashing his lips over yours. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as the force cheered and congratulated you over the comms. When the two of you finally separated you couldn’t help but grin like a bunch of lovesick fools. 

“How’s it feel to be Mrs. John McTavish?” John grinned. 

“Like I’ve won the lottery,” you giggled. 

“Wonderful, can we focus on not dying now please!” John said. 

You and Johnny both rearmed yourselves with your weapons, looking over at each other with a new sense of determination. 

“You better not die on me, husband,” you smirked. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, wife.”

[thethirdromana]

I didn't realise vegetarianism was enough of a thing for Victorian London to have dedicated vegetarian restaurants, but apparently there was a surge of interest from the 1880s onwards.

Edward E Howe's The Vegetarian Cook Book (published in the USA in 1887, but referencing British writers) provides the following arguments for vegetarianism:

It's healthier; Howe is particularly concerned with people eating too much nitrogen, but he also highlights illnesses that people get from eating meat.

It stops you from wanting alcohol - the pro-vegetarian movement was closely linked with the temperance movement at this time.

It saves you money, in particular in making you not need to eat as much.

Eating meat is disgusting; he describes this as the aesthetic argument.

Some scripture opposes eating meat.

It's noticeable that ethical arguments about the rights and wrongs of killing animals for food don't appear.

Howe's "vegetarian" diet is actually a semi-vegan diet (the word "vegan" was only invented in the 1940s) since he prefers to avoid milk and eggs (except for children), though he seems to be OK with cheese. He also advocates for prioritising raw food, not eating food that's too hot, not eating anything too soft, not drinking ice water or eating ice cream, avoiding tea and coffee, and if that's not enough:

Condiments should be very sparingly used, for they tend to create undue thirst, and inflame the coats of the stomach and internal passages. Pure food requires no condiments, and will be relished if the taste for spicy foods is discouraged.

If that makes it sound as if the recipes in the book would be terrible... well, they are. There's a lot of boiling veg for hours on end - onions for 45 mins, green beans for 1-1.5 hours, and carrots for up to 2 hours.

Seasonings are not mentioned.

Here's a "macaroni" recipe:

Wash it and then break into lengths of 6 or 8 inches. To 2 oz. of macaroni add a teaspoonful of salt and a quart of boiling water. Simmer gently until tender, and the water quite evaporated, about half an hour. Then lay it in a dish and grate over it old cheese, after which set in an oven till of a brown color, about 20 mins.

Yes this is plain pasta with a bit of (old) cheese on top. Delicious.

Thankfully not all vegetarian cooking was like this in Victorian times. New Vegetarian Dishes by Mrs Bowdich comes to the rescue (published in London, in 1892).

In the preface, Earnest Bell, treasurer of the London Vegetarian Society, says "to have to live by some [vegetarian cook books] would almost make a vegetarian turn meat-eater". He notes that while some vegetarians "prefer a plain diet", most people don't. He also cites animal welfare as a possible reason for vegetarianism - that "in some cases, I hope, that [people] would willingly diminish the sufferings involved in the transport and slaughter of animals".

Mrs Bowdich's recipes live up to the promise of the preface, with things like this perfectly good veggie sausage recipe:

Actual seasoning! There's even a whole section on vegetable curries. So maybe not all Victorian vegetarians ate as miserably as Edward Howe.

[1800titz]

As a very dedicated TDIAG reader, I have questions. We have learned about Isla’s ex dominants and her experience and how she came about knowing her kinks. I am curious to know about Eros’ past, his past everything, past submissives, how he came about knowing his kinks, if Isla is the one he has tried the most intense stuff with, if he had a more intense dynamic with someone in the past.

Love your writing 💗💗

First of all, thank you for being a dedicated TDIAG reader! I am so flattered :’)

This is a really, really good question. After I read this ask, I started to think about it and I realized our Mr. Eros really is an enigma, isn’t he? In the first chapter, it’s mentioned that Harry really got into kink at 23, and in chapter 6 a submissive called Hedone is very, very briefly mentioned in regard to fearplay. It’s noted in the TDIAG ABC’s as a fun fact that he didn’t name himself Eros (someone else helped him choose the moniker). But besides that, his past with kink really isn’t explored in depth.

TDIAGrry has definitely had more than a handful of subs he’s played with at Indulge, sort of like Isla in respect to her cycle of regulars (Faunus, Artemis, etc, etc). People he’s gotten on with that he was able to build stringless relationships of comfort and stability with. Definitely nothing too serious though. Isla isn’t necessarily someone he’s tried the most intense purely sex stuff with, because everything they do are things he’s tried with other partners (like impact play, and bondage, and fearplay, and suspension, etc, etc, etc). There’s even things he’s done with other subs that he and Isla haven’t necessarily explored, like anal sex. However, there’s definitely a more intense element of intimacy with Isla. Like bare sex, for example, which was a limit for him — he hasn’t indulged in that with other partners at Indulge.

I imagine he got into kink in a similar way to Isla — just sort of liked something, starting researching, etc. I think that prior to Indulge, he had a girlfriend or two that he’d experiment with in the bedroom, and that’s sort of where he figured out what he really likes. He tried a lot of things prior to Indulge, which explains his collection at home. Once he’d broken it off with a girlfriend and was exploring being single, that’s when he tried Indulge. He didn’t go into it with high expectations or anything, and went in sort of assuming that he’d leave after an hour of aimlessly wandering hallways and averting his eyes from every nonchalantly nude person that he’d pass, because crowds and flashy sex clubs were never really his thing.

But then it just clicked, and the rest is sort of history.

I think everyone expects to hear that TDIAGrry had a soft 24/7 dynamic with a sub in an out-of-Indulge setting or something, since he’s such a connoisseur, but really, I would say that the dynamic he has with Isla is the most intense it’s gotten for him. He’s been on the fence throughout the story when it comes to exploring something romantic beyond Indulge with her, but that hesitation is rooted in the fact that the club has boundaries. It’s stringless, and it’s fun, and as long as they’re in the club, feelings don’t really play a part. Taking this into account though, he’s much more open, I think, to exploring the feelings he’s developed for Isla and delving into more beyond the club, because he’s never had this horrible experience with a sub translating into an out of club context.

Anyways, SORRY FOR RAMBLING DHXJJDKD this became sort of an essay I fear, but thank you so much for reading and for being so interested in my characters <3 :D