#But losing motivation is stronger than me

[ducks-and-stuff]

I made this snippet of writing for a Jimmy fic but I lost motivation for it but I like the intro so I’m posting it here now

It is cold. 

People may think you a fool for many things, but you know that much at least. That today marks the end of the world and  you are cold in a way your puffy overcoat and earmuffs cannot fix. 

You also know that It is Christmas day and that you are huddled into Pearl and trying to forget that there are two of you when there are supposed to be three. But the forgetting does not work, nor has it ever, and so there are two of you when there are supposed to be  and there is a note from your best friend stuffed in your back pocket and it is Christmas and the Watchers do not care.

To be fair, though nothing ever is when it comes to your server, the Watchers aren’t exactly known for caring. They rip and tear anything they happen to sink their claws into and today, dear Listener, today you are fresh meat.

Pearl is silent as you think about all this, which is fitting. You attended your aunt’s funeral once when you were seven, and people didn’t talk much then either. It was an old church with wooden support beams and a stain glass window looming over the alter. The one you had only been to once before because of the free food at that one potluck. You had licked your fingers clean and raced across the pews with kids from your side of town until some official looking man came in and yelled at you. But today is a funeral and all you can focus on is how the dust dances where the light streams in through that one stain glass window, and now you will never see that church or light or dust again. Most people cry now, with the understanding that their energy would be best used on tears. But Pearl doesn’t cry, and you don’t either. 

Instead you say, 

“I’m scared”

and Pearl lets out a wet, humorless laugh and says

“No shit Jimmy”

And then she startles and looks away guilty, because maybe she doesn’t want those to be their final words to each other. Maybe she wants it be something poetic, something that gives you both a small glimmer of hope even when you could easily look around and see that your world  has already started cracking and hope is not some sort of glue that will magically fix it all. 

Pearl opens her mouth. 

Maybe she will say something heroic. Or Something bitter yet sweet. Something that will make you smile just a little bit, and she will smile back, and for a moment, the world will be just a little less cold.  

Pearl closes her mouth. 

You had gifted her thirty-two diamonds  earlier today, because when you woke up it was Christmas and not the day that you would die, and you had thought she would get the chance to use them. 

Today is the day you will die. 

Maybe if you repeat it enough the words will lose their meaning. 

They’re here. 

Something in your ear whispers. 

And you swallow down whatever lump has made itself known in your throat and curl into Pearl just a little more. As if that can stop what happens next. But you’re a fool for many things and you have love and you have hope but they do not give way to salvation. Instead, something in you loosens, and you are reminded that this is not how this game works. 

You cry out because it hurts. You had hoped this part would be painless but it isn’t and it’s searing and it’s all-encompassing and Pearl is holding onto you even if you’ve tried this already and you both know it’s not going to work. 

You’re pulled. 

You’re pulled away and Pearl digs her fingernails into your forearm and tries to pull you right back, because Pearl is not just scared and mad and angry and confused, she is also, between all that, a very kind person who doesn’t want her friend to die. 

Or alternatively, maybe she just doesn’t think you get the right to leave her here alone in this wretched world. 

But regardless of her reasoning in this moment, Pearl has always been a really nice person even when she could have easily been a jerk, and Jimmy wishes he had had the chance to tell her that before this moment.

“Jimmy!”

And in the distance he sees the walls and the mini-game and the campfire crack into a million pieces.

“Jimmy!”

And the name is broken and full of pain. 

“Jimmy!”

But her hands are slipping and you are already unraveling and Jimmy bolts upright and screams his sister’s name one final time as he’s dragged away and that, dear reader, is the story of how Joel got a black eye. 

[yashley]

Say something true!

[perfectlyoongi]

HUSBAND!YOONGI who asked you to marry him without a ring or planning, just the desire to be yours forever motivating Yoongi. you were about to go to bed, tired from another long day of work, but when he looked at you, focused on your night routine, arranging things for the next day, Yoongi realized that was a vision he wanted to have for the rest of his life; Yoongi's words came without hesitation, spontaneous, carrying with them all the hope and desire for a full life by your side. “let’s get married. i can't bear to spend another day with the fear of losing you. i want this life we have forever.”

HUSBAND!YOONGI who at your wedding, at the end of the day under the sunset, pulled you away from all the guests and said private vows just for you. at the ceremony Yoongi was nervous, too eager to hurry up the ceremony and finally have you forever and ever, and, as such, his vows were beautiful, yes, but brief; however, when the day was ending, when dancing and laughter occupied all the space, Yoongi gently held your hand, taking you to the garden, pouring out his soul in the form of simple words. “i promise to love you. not as i love you now, or as i loved you yesterday, but as i will love you tomorrow and the day after, for i continue to fall in love with you constantly and my love will never diminish, only grow.”

HUSBAND!YOONGI who sits in the kitchen with a guitar and serenades you. whenever you were cooking, cleaning the kitchen, or simply working, Yoongi would take his guitar to the kitchen and embellish your tasks with a gentle melody echoing through the room, the music that your husband played for you comforting your heart and making you smile every time Yoongi decided to accompany his guitar with his sweet voice. “i wrote a new ballad with you in mind. wanna hear it?”

HUSBAND!YOONGI who likes to be the little spoon when you take a nap on a sunday afternoon. Yoongi liked to have you in his arms, to have the feeling that, in a way, he was protecting you from the world and that he contained within you all the essence of your soul that made you so unique, so beautiful; however, Yoongi wasn't going to deny that he also liked to feel held, to have your hands around his body in a warm blanket of pure love and tranquility. “do you want to take a nap with me? i wouldn't mind being held now... because… i need you, to... you know. please?”

HUSBAND!YOONGI who adopted a dog on your first anniversary. Yoongi would be lying if he said he hadn't been thinking about a family with you since the day he told you he loved you — it was stronger than him. you made Yoongi dream, dream about things he never thought he wanted, things he never thought he was worthy of wanting; you were magic for Yoongi, an eternal source of dreams and hope and he just wanted to repay you — a dog, an animal that would keep you company when he was away, an animal that was capable of loving you almost as much as Yoongi, almost. “i don’t know what magic you have in you, but i just want to continue to grow with you and make our relationship grow. this dog is the beginning of our family.”

HUSBAND!YOONGI who reads you books out loud when you are tired or sad. Yoongi asked you to lay your head on his lap and choose the book he would read: poetry, fantasy, even plays he was capable of reading and interpreting for you if it meant you resting and laughing for moments; there were entire hours of nothing more than your husband's melodious words filling the room, various tales and stories coming to life through his voice while you closed your eyes and let yourself be carried away by the narrative recited by Yoongi. “if i read you shakespeare and look at you while i read the love dialogues, does that count as a confession from me to you?”

HUSBAND!YOONGI who loves you unconditionally for years and years on end, the feeling that was planted in Yoongi's heart only growing with each moment shared with you without ever withering or losing a single fragment. as if linked by the oldest constellations, your love was constant, long ago idealized by the universe itself with traces of stars and magic making your relationship lasting in each lifetime. “i don’t want to stop dreaming about you. i don't want to stop loving you. you are the only reality for me and i only exist with you by my side.”

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐄𝐲𝐞'𝐬 𝐎𝐧 𝐇𝐢𝐦 | 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐳 𝐏𝐭.𝟐 ♡

Day Eight - Voyeurism

【Synopsis】 : There was no denying that Seonghwa had always loved to watch his leaders' angel being pampered. It was his favourite past time afterall.

『Word count』 :  990

-> Genre: Smut. Biker Au.

Pairing: Bikers!SeongJoong x Fem!Reader   

[Warnings] : Oral [f rec]. Swearing. Multiple orgasms. A knife is used to cut clothing. Pussy slapping. Manhandling. hickies. Mean dom Hongjoong. Softish Dom Seonghwa. Unprotected sex. Filthy talk. Pet names [bunny, angel, princess].

Network: @cromernet @wonderlandnet @atzhouse @illusionnet @k-vanity

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"Look what we have here.” Seonghwa’s voice sent a tingle through your body as your eyes locked on his. Hongjoong’s bites got harsh, making your moans grow loud, and the only thing coming to mind was that tonight was going to be fun.

-

Your eyes never left Seonghwa as your lover's right-hand man, simply smirked while sitting relaxed on the couch in the corner of the room. You were completely naked now, Hongjoong had used the knife that he had in a holster on his ankle to cut through the difficult band-t and black laced panties you were wearing without having to move you off the desk. Hongjoong has given you clear instructions when his lips meet your soaked cunt, you cannot lose eye contact with Hwa and you have to scream his name.

So, like the good girl you are, you obeyed.

"Seonghwa!!" Your jaw hung open as you felt Hongjoong eat you like you were his last meal on death row. Your fingers tangled in his hair, you feel his teeth graze around your clit, nibbling it quickly before going back to lick a strip from bottom to top. His three fingers were so deep that you had come twice already from the stimulation. All the while Seonghwa was perched with his legs spread and his hand roughly palming his cock. And as much as he wished to jerk himself off, he did not want to give you such satisfaction of seeing him take care of his problem below. Not when you basically showed off what was rightfully his and Hongjoongs to one of the lower pool boys. No, you needed punishment, and this just so happens also to be Seonghwa’s reward. “Seonghwa p-please.”

Your shaky hand reached for him, but the man did not even flinch. Hongjoong found this all amusing, but he also grew impatient. Unlike you, who was still in the dark, continuously begging for Seonghwa, Joong had silently understood the other males' motives. And he was excited to see where it was going to go. “Come on angel, you can be louder than that. Let everyone hear how good I’m fucking you.” Hongjoong lent over your shaking body to whisper in your ear, “And just maybe, Hwa might fuck you afterwards.”

“Fuck, please.” You cried again like some broken record, watching with glassy eyes as Hongjoong undid his zipper to open his slacks just enough to pull out his angry cock. Your lover's dark gaze met you before giving your abused pussy a harsh slap causing more tears to flow down your cheek, staining your puffy red face. Hongjoong grabbed your chin, forcing you to look upside down, back to Seonghwa on the couch.

“I said, keep your eyes on him Princess, don’t go disobeying me now.” Hongjoong deep growl sent shivers down your spine. Your eyes water more as your head felt the rush of blood from being tilted off the desk. You feel every inch of Hongjoong as he sinks inside you at a painfully slow pace making you feel him in every way possible. “There you go. My angel.”

His thrusts grew stronger with every passing minute. You desperately tried to keep your hazy eyes open, but your mind began to cloud and your body began to shake. Everything was heightened. From the feeling of Hongjoongs thick cock slamming deep inside you with every snap of his hips and the way you can feel Seonghwa stare straight into your soul as he continues to palm him with a light grunt at the sight of you being dishevelled. You were so fiercely close to the edge. “Hwa…J-joong. Please arnghh.”

You gasped as you felt Hongjoong leave your soaked cunt in on pull. A cry on the tip of your tongue at the emptiness. Joong slapped your pussy hard, making you sit up. But you couldn’t protest as he nearly yanked you off the desk, turning you around to bend you over the deep spruce wood. “I told you. Eyes opened and only speak Seonghwa’s name. Can you not follow simple instructions?” He thrusted his cock back inside you at full force, knocking you onto the table by your hips that were surely going to bruise from the impact. “Watch how fucked out Hwa looks right now. He loves to watch you, but you know that, Princess.”

“Yes…I do.” Your eyes lock onto Seonghwa as his gaze rakes down your body, now getting a better view of your bruised-covered tits.

“Even when you don’t know, my angel. He’s watching. When you’re blindfolded or your head is squashed into the pillow. You don’t see our pretty boy lurking.” Hongjoong jackhammers into you, holding your neck to keep you upright, “He loves to watch his bunny cum around a cock.”

You couldn’t hold it anymore, letting go of the twist in your gut. You clench tightly around your lover's cock while you cry another man's name. Never in your life had you felt such bliss then at this moment.

—

© 𝐉𝐚𝟑𝐡𝐰𝐚. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape, or form.

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 : 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑁 𝑁𝑂 𝑊𝐴𝑌 𝐴 𝑇𝑅𝑈𝐸 𝐷𝐸𝑃𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝑂𝐹 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐸𝑍 𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅𝑆. 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝑃𝑈𝑅𝐸 𝐹𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐼𝑆 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝑇𝑂 𝐵𝐸 𝑇𝐴𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝑆𝐸𝑅𝐼𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐿𝑌.

[mooishbeam]

『♡』 Losing Game

♡ featuring: ajax x f!reader

♡ summary: simmering feelings boil over as you're confronted by the man you hate the most; tartaglia, your boss. wc: 3.1k+

♡ cw/tw: afab, degradation, humiliation, creampie, squirting, light choking, sadism, throat-fucking, cum play, fingering, overstimulation, brat taming, mind break, pet names (doll, baby)

notes: hiii, the positive response from the last one motivated me to get this done just in time for Fontaine. kinda long this time so sorry abt that. ajax my beloved <3 art by sonomi_rap5 on twitter comments and reblogs are appreciated!

Working for the fatui wasn’t easy in the slightest, especially when you aren’t on harbinger status. You were sent on long, grueling tasks only to be met with loose interpretations of gratitude and sometimes silence from the higher-ups, in which most wouldn’t even glance in your direction. Pleasant beginnings became a sour afterthought, and your perception of the fatui changed drastically. Your grievances, however, weren’t helped by your quick-witted snappy attitude and competitiveness; Presumably why you ended up under the division of Tartaglia. You assumed a binding contract from the capricious redhead wouldn’t mean much, but that was quickly proven false.  

You'd rather climb every mountain in Snezhnaya than spend a minute talking to that airhead. He was instructed to keep a watchful eye on you during missions despite the competence you demonstrated. It was insulting. Anything he did you could do better. It’d been proven multiple times from the petty challenges you created. How much water you could drink, how long you can stay up. You won every time. How could you not hate him? His feigned ignorance and careless flirtations were enough to drive you mad. “Please, call me Ajax” he’d say, winking. The simpering smile he gave you after every comeback shot daggers in your pride. What made you particularly furious was the incessant drum of your heart whenever he was near you. The warm autumn morning that was his hair. The cool still waves his eyes sent to your core. You couldn’t fall for him, or else he’d have one up on you. You had to be stronger than that. You quelled your stress in a tattered journal gifted years ago. 

“Hey, comrade!” His bubbly tone makes knots in your stomach, and you choose to stay silent. You’re hoping this mission will go without a hitch, as long as he doesn’t get in your way. Ajax lets out a teasing whistle. 

“Yeesh, tough crowd.” As you’re collecting the items needed for the deal, he rocks back and forth on his heels directly in front of you, absent-mindedly watching. 

You whip your head to face him, “You can’t see I’m doing something right now?” 

“Oh, I see what you’re doing. But this isn’t entertaining.” 

“Unlike you, your majesty, I have no choice but to be perfect. I apologize if that’s not exciting enough for you.” You retort with sarcastic curtsy.  

“Haha! You’re always a pleasure to be around, (Y/N). My faithful, kind-hearted companion.” he said with a taunting wink. You're beyond flustered, haphazardly stuffing the remains in your bag and lugging it over your shoulder. 

“Let's go.” You say lazily. He follows closely, arms crossed behind his head. “Calling me like a dog, how romantic.” 

“If you don’t want to be called like a dog stop acting like one.” 

“You could at least give me a treat if I'm gonna be your dog.” He looks at you, making his best impression of puppy-eyes. You bite back a few choice words, and glare at him instead. He isn’t fazed by this and flashes a beguiling smile that makes your ears warm. Glancing at the weight you’re shouldering, he comments, “You sure you don’t need any help with that?” 

“No. The last person I need help from is you.” 

You and Ajax regroup in an alleyway deep in Fontaine’s bustling city. You are assigned to retrieve a rare gem for one of Pantalone’s elaborate schemes, and you quickly prepare yourself for this interaction. Ajax studies you, leaning against one of the walls. 

“Can’t you be a little nicer to your superior? If it wasn’t for me, you’d be in a lot of trouble half the time. You’re welcome.” You scoff. “I don’t know why you’re here in the first place, I have no problem doing this on my own.” 

“I’m sure. Don’t mind me, Ms. Independent.” A sly smirk crawled up his face. “Fucking asshole” you mumble under your breath. “I didn’t catch that. Can you repeat it?” 

“I said you’re a fucking asshole.” After a few moments of silence, Ajax grips his chest in feigned agony. “Ouch. I’m gutted!” 

Just as you're about to leave, he snatches your wrist, now only mere inches away from your face. His hand gently brushes away the strays of hair on your forehead. “There you go, doll. Gotta be perfect for your debut.” A whirlwind of emotions strangles your ability to think clearly, you pull your wrist away and start speed walking, attempting to gather yourself before you get to the jewelry store. 

You enter the empty store and are immediately confronted by the jeweler. 

“Good afternoon, ma’am. Do you have an appointment?” You proclaim your business and appointment under a fake identity, posturing yourself as wealthy. “May I see identification please.” Of course, you say. As you’re looking through your purse you notice something: there’s no identification here. Surely you weren’t that negligent over something so simple. You rummaged through the other compartments, trying to stay calm in front of an increasingly concerned jeweler. But it’s not there. How is this possible. Your nerves are heightened and the anxiety of failing the mission starts to creep in. “I made an appointment with Lottie; she’ll be able to provide reference. I believe I left my passport at home.” The jeweler seems slightly disappointed. “Unfortunately, ma’am, I am not allowed to present any gems without identification.” Your heart beats faster. “Well, sir, I’m very busy and I’m afraid this is my only chance to close on this item. You wouldn’t want to push away a well-paying customer.” 

“I have no choice in the matter. If you have no proof of identification, I must ask you to leave.” Should I take it by force? You thought, thinking about the next possible option. As you’re about to handle the rest physically, the door swings open. Ajax comes up to you, placing his arm around your waist.  

“My love, were you able to get the gem we were discussing?” You’re annoyed, but you improvise and look at him as if he’s the love of your life. “Not yet, dear.” Suddenly, he places a plush kiss on your lips. You’re stunned and speechless, filled with anger and wanting. 

The jeweler interjects. “And are you the husband? Would you happen to have any identification.” 

“Yes, sir.” Ajax pulls out a passport and fake birth certificate unbeknownst to you and begins to close the deal. The rest of the meeting you sit speechless. 

“Thank you for your patronage.” are the last words you hear as you leave the store, Ajax guiding you with his hand. You’re silent the whole way back to your room. 

You turn your bag upside down and begin looking for the mismatched documents. All while Ajax stares at you expectingly. You ignore his presence.  

“So... how about a ‘you’re welcome?’” 

“For what.” 

He lets out a mocking laugh. “For what? I don’t know, maybe saving your ass back there? You froze, and you were unprepared, Ms. Independent.”  

“I wouldn’t have forgotten it if it wasn’t for the obnoxious bullshit you did this morning.” 

“That’s dishonest, I wasn’t even talking!” he pretends to be hurt. “Admit that you need me.” 

“Fuck off.” 

“No.” His light-hearted inflection vexes you and makes it hard for you to focus as you read through the mountains of pages in your folder. 

While your head is down, Ajax comes across the tattered notebook just peeking out from under the bed. Storing the months—no years—of feelings you had regarding the fatui. Regarding him. Some time passes and you finally raise your head, met with the horrifying reveal of him skimming through the journal, mischief coating the deep void in his eyes. You spring up and reach for the book but he’s faster, grabbing your arms and pinning them above your head. 

“This is really good stuff... really good.” You shout profanities over and over, anything to get his attention away from the book. But he continues to read as if you’re not there. When he’s done reading, he lets you go, and you instantly try to swing at him. Before you can land a hit, he grabs you by the throat and stares into your soul, almost as if he’s trying to swallow your being. 

“You’ve been acting like a little fucking brat all over a crush? Not very big girl of you.” 

“I know you think you’re beyond charming, but I promise you don’t have that effect on me.” 

“Really? Let’s play a game then.” He knew you’d accept just to beat him at anything. 

“If you don’t cum by the end of this journal, I’ll apologize for everything. I’ll do whatever you want. But if I win-” he steps closer to you, “You have to do everything I say.” 

You almost burst out laughing. Such an easy challenge, how hard could it be? 

You're panting, trying your hardest to focus on the words that seemed to melt off the page. Your back lays comfortably against his chest, with his legs keeping yours spread. 

“Next page, baby.” 

“Don’t call me that.” Your words are lenient and breathy. Your underwear is still on, but Ajax’s fingers are covered in your slick, playing with the erect nub just enough to make you fuzzy. “You look like you’re tapping out.” 

“This? This is nothing” You respond meekly, continuing the reading.  

“I can’t help but have fe-elings for himph.”  

“There’s some nice things about me in here, why aren’t you always like this?” He says, circling and dipping into your gushy folds, smearing the glossy mess all over your vulva. You try so hard to read the letters, squirming from his touch. The sensation pulsing from your clit to your brain made you incoherent; the more you move, the more he moves. The contents of the journal are humiliating, detailing your romantic and sexual attraction towards Ajax, and your attempts to stifle these feelings. He was getting a kick out of seeing your flustered face stammer over his appearance. He plays with the precum glazing his fingers, widening them to watch the trail it left. Only two more pages left. 

“I-I-” You couldn’t get through the first sentence on the last page. Your thighs are trembling, and your pussy began to twitch. “Uh, s-shit. Ajax, wai-.” He trails his fingers over your clit spelling his name, then pushes two inside, fighting back an amused grin. “You’re almost done” Teasing in your ear. You bite back the moans threatening to escape; at the very least you couldn’t give him that satisfaction. He watches you fall apart, shaking more aggressively before your body gives in and you cum on his fingers.  

“Uh oh, that’s unfortunate.” You try your best to catch your breath, but he rides out your orgasm, making you subconsciously grind yourself into his palm. Then you’re struck with the reality of losing. He licks his fingers clean, eyes rolling back from the taste. “So fucking good, does being a bitch make you taste better?” You were too embarrassed from the loss to retort. “You won.” 

“I did.” He lifts you off the bed and onto the floor, your legs still recovering. He hikes your shirt up, trailing kisses up your stomach until he gets to your nipples. He flicks and sucks one while kneading the other one, occasionally biting the slightly bruising flesh. “Not gonna moan for me, huh baby?” 

“Not in the slightest.” You rasped. He smiles and blows cool air on your tits, sending a rippling feeling down your back. “That’s okay, you’ll give in.” 

Ajax unbuttons his pants, and they drop in front of you. Unsheathing his thick throbbing length, drooling with desire. His balls are full and heavy, and as you look up at him his eyes are clouded with lust. The pretty freckles that dotted his arms and chest are much more visible now, and so are his battle scars. He breathed in deep, "take care of this for me, yeah?” You wanted to say no and say fuck this; but there was another side that wanted him desperately, that needed this.  

You force your jaw open to accommodate his size and push yourself halfway on his girth, feeling his cockhead hit the back of your throat. Once you feel like you got it in, you slobber all over his cock, dampening his balls and begin to bob your head. You stroke with one hand and massage his sack with the other, leading to a breathy whimper from him. “Ah fuck, feels good. Suck it slow, slut.” You begin to move faster while cupping his balls, obscene noises leaving your sopping mouth. You have tears running down your sweating face trying to keep up with the vigorous movement of your tongue. You feel him throb a few times, his moans and grunting getting progressively louder.  

“Need more” is all he says, putting one of his legs on the bed and grabbing both sides of your head. Before you can register what’s happening. Ajax pushes your head onto his cock until your nose reaches his pubes. He lets out a breathy sigh and starts throat fucking you with an animalistic grip. The gagging and spit noises echo off the walls, along with his continuous whimpering. You wanted to hate him, but your blood was buzzing, and your panties were drenched. “Shut up and take it” followed by broken fuck’s and yes’s. He threw his head back, hair slicked and torso gleaming with sweat, “look at me.” You reluctantly look up, addicted to his passionate expression. “I want you looking at me when I cum.” You grip his thighs, and he twitches a few times before spurting white, thick cum down your throat. He pulls out slightly to drag his semen over your lips and then taps it on your face, holding you in place.  

“What are you doing? Clean me up.” he husked. You clean him up without complaint and lick your lips, forced to maintain eye contact with him the entire way.  

In one swoop, Ajax picks you up and throws you on the bed, eager to get your underwear off. “You proved your point, stop being an ass" you slurred out. The room was intoxicating, all you could smell and feel was him. He takes your panties off, spreading your pussy to watch the slippery puddle dribble down your thighs. He shoves your panties in your mouth, “Fucking liar, I know you like it. Can’t taste how wet you are?” He aligns himself with your aching hole, keeping your arch steady with you bent over. Shoving his cock in, moaning from the feeling of your body perfectly molding for him. Ajax starts moving at a rapid pace quickly, his big slender hands tightly gripping your ass. The sound of wet sticky skin slapping together and the squelching from your core made you shudder. It was all too much; you have been teetering on an orgasm since you went down on him, and the way his balls thump your clit make you quiver.  

“Whiny brat. Just needed to be fucked good to shut up, yeah?” he groaned through his words. Tears were coming down your eyes now, you can’t tell if he’s edging you by accident or on purpose. But right now, you’d do anything. He turns your head to face him, gazing at your tear-stricken face. “Aww, you cryin’ for me?” He stops to kiss and lick your tears, delighted by your tenderness. Taking the panties out your mouth, he brings your body flush with his and continues to pump inside with you looking at him.  

“So sweet all of a sudden, where’d that attitude go?” The morals you had for moaning went missing and mewls and soft whimpers began to leave you. “Let it out, baby.” You’re suddenly babbling please’s begging for him to let you have it. “Pathetic, can’t even get off on your own. You need me that bad?” You nod repeatedly, dangerously close to your release. He had a dark look in his eyes and a sinful smirk. “Yeah? Okay, you’ve been so good.” He reaches down and starts to rub your clit ceaselessly, kissing your cheek. Your whimpers become loud shaky moans and he finally lets you have it, shockwaves going through your body as you’re dissolved into pleasure. You pulsate through the explosion, jello-brain and boneless as your cum leaks down his thighs. Just as he pulls out and flips you over. You’re dizzy and drunk off him, legs shaking indefinitely from the intensity. Then he puts it back in. “You can take one more, yeah baby?” Your overstimulated and violent shaking wasn’t enough for him to stop. He wanted you ruined. He keeps going, grabbing your face to kiss you deeply, tongues intertwining with each other. He feeds you deep strokes, tip prodding your spot every time and watching as your tits bounce. You throw your head back, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. You have no thoughts, only his name rings in your head. You can feel the coil inside you winding up, pleasure beyond the searing pain of your swollen pussy. He looks down at you and smiles.  

“Look at me." You can’t hear anything at this point, not even the sound of your own voice. So, it’s a pleasant surprise when your voice carries his name, “Ajax, Ajax”, chanting as if he’s your god. “Fuck. Gonna cum. Let it out. baby” he says grinning. You’re clamping him so tight and throbbing until you ultimately shatter with him, releasing a stream of squirt onto him and the sheets. He bucks into you, letting out thick spurts, panting heavily as he watches you in disarray. You instinctively hold on to his arms, trembling uncontrollably as you try to search for breath and ride it out. You’re completely hysterical and sobbing from the emotion it ripped into you. You were in shambles and Ajax couldn’t help but smile out of happiness for what he caused. “I’m so sorry.” you say repeatedly, eyes shut and lined with tears. He got closer to wrap you in his arms, and you cling to him for stability. “It’s okay, I’m here for you.” 

You didn’t want to talk about it when you woke up. You were hoping he’d be gone, and therefore wouldn’t have to deal with the humiliation. But there he was, watching you sleep just as the sun rose. His ginger hair danced with golden flecks of light, and he looked at you like you were the only person on Teyvat. 

“Creep.” 

  “Good morning to you too, baby~.” 

[blackpilljesus]

I saw this from the female separatism subreddit & the responses are some of the biggest reasons for separatism et al (or extinction if I'm being candid here). Moids cant be reformed they are fully aware of the hell they force women to live in. MaIe achievement & happiness is rooted in female exploitation & life. Their glory days are based on our horrific days. No amount of love, kindness or facts will change maIes and we cannot happily or even neutrally coexist with them.

Main points across answers:

Many want to experiment but not permanently be women

They dont want to be in constant danger or lose their autonomy at the hands of maIes for merely existing

They dont want to deal with childbirth (& periods)

They dont want to have to share spaces with species much stronger than them with ulterior motives

It makes me go crazy seeing people give moids benefit of doubt for their evil like "maIes just dont understand", "we need to teach maIes", or claiming that maIe violence is a result of maIes struggling with (expressing) their feelings. I get that women love maIes and it can be hard to imagine that people can intentionally be so evil but it is what it is. MaIes have no problems expressing themselves, abusing women is what maIes choose to do because they enjoy & benefit from it - that is their expression.

MaIes see the same news of women being abused, raped, and killed like we do except rather than be disheartened or alarmed they're either apathetic or satisfied. It isn't aliens that's committing GBV it's maIes & maIes have no problem reminding women of this when women anger them (such as rape threats & threatening women they'll end up on the news/true crime). The victim blaming, denial, and derailment of misogyny is part of the game to keep the system alive, they know the events occured & are a systemic occurence they just dont care. Hell not only do they not care, they rejoice in it or get off on it.

MaIes set up environments that work in their favour which simultaneously ensures that women will lose. They know women are set up to live in damn near impossible conditions for us. It's normalised for women to defenselessly share personal & private spaces with beings much more stronger than them with ulterior motives for us, it's trap. It's interesting how these moids aren't saying that they'll just cover up and *poof* harrassment gone, or they'll just pick a nice guy & they'll be okay. MaIes know the net negative they are towards women.

MaIes know that childbirth is a painful process & what do they do? Demand it happens and make it even MORE painful for women. MaIes that impregnate women do not love or care for them. Pregnancy itself is dangerous & sometimes lethal, often comes with a range of health issues, to cause someone to be in that condition especially in a environment where abortions are illegal is reckless & unloving. Now imagine how sinister & full of hatred one has to be to impregnate someone and abuse them on top of that. Many women risk their health & lives to reproduce with a Y and they get abused by said Y instead of being taken care of. Deranged.

Realising that maIes are aware of the evil they inflict is one of the things that radicalised me. It isn't a miscommunication or ignorance issue, their violence is intended. They want control. The cruelty is the point. Instead of wasting time & energy trying to change maIes or hope that they "understand" one day, focus on yourself & other women (who prioritise women). Moids aren't oblivious to female pain they enjoy it. A lot of women treat maIe evil like it's a mistake on maIes part but it's calculated terrorism. I know that this will go over many womens heads as they refuse to hold strong negative sentiments about moids as a collective so if you're not a woman like that, take this post as a sanity check. You aren't crazy, it isn't all in your head.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Wicked Games

Pairing: Sukuna x fem!reader

Word Count: 3k

Synopsis: From the second Ryomen Sukuna appears on the surface on earth again, you are bound to each other. Until the Shibuya accident. Until Sukuna gets confronted with the fear of losing you first-hand.

Warnings: angst to fluff y'all, enemies to lovers in a kind of rushed way, this made me think about doing a series with like 5 chapters and a slow burn enemies to lovers with Sukuna x curse!reader - how do you feel about that? <3

Inspired by this prompt:

You remember it as if it was yesterday. The night was cold and eerily quiet when you sprinted through the dark streets, your body buzzing with the vibrations of cursed energy.

The reports had come in just an hour ago: a powerful curse had manifested, and it wasn’t just any ordinary curse. The whispers and especially Gojo spoke of something ancient, something nearly forgotten. Something that had slumbered within the shadows of legends until now.

“Guess what, (y/n)? Megumi found something that might interest you”, Gojo jeered at you through the phone when you already felt it.

Ryomen Sukuna.

You had heard his name your entire life - a dark deity, a figure so terrible that entire villages had been wiped out by his bare hands centuries ago.

Since you were a child, you've been obsessed with him, the so-called "King of Curses." Not because you were drawn to the death and chaos he brought, but because of the mystery he posed. The idea that something so cruel, so powerful, could exist outside the boundaries of human comprehension. As a sorcerer, you committed yourself to understanding curses, to studying their origins, motivations, powers. And there was no greater paradox than Sukuna himself.

But now, he wasn't only a paradox anymore. Now he had returned. They had found one of his fingers. Apparently, someone had consumed it.

“I’m in the middle of souvenir shopping and guessed you wouldn’t mind stepping in and helping little Megumi out.”

"Normally I'd scold you but today...thank you, idiot."

Yuji Itadori, the boy who had swallowed Sukuna’s cursed finger, who brought Sukuna back into the world after centuries of slumber, stood right in your sight along with Megumi Fushiguro. But you couldn’t let yourself worry about the boys; your focus was on the curse now staring straight back at you.

Your fingers tightened on the hilt of your sword, the cursed energy crackling around you like lightning in the dark night. You had prepared your entire life for this moment. The countless hours of sickening training, the sleepless nights spent poring over ancient texts and scrolls, and the battles fought against nameless curses. All of it had led you here, to your first confrontation with the King of Curses.

As you reached the completely destroyed school building where the cursed energy was originating from, you could already feel it. The overwhelming, tyrannical weight of Sukuna’s presence. It was unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, so thick it felt as though it was suffocating you.

You pressed on, despite the nausea building in your chest. There was no time to second-guess yourself. You moved swiftly through the corridors of the building, your footsteps echoing in the empty halls. The cursed energy grew heavier with every step, your breathing becoming uneven when the spiteful aura grew stronger. And then, at the far end of the hallway on top of a roof, you saw him.

At first glance, it was a boy, a teenager no older than Megumi. His body was rigid, standing in the middle of that roof, shoulders squared as though fighting an internal battle. But the look on his face, the wicked smile stretched across his lips, told you otherwise. The way his dark eyes gleamed with wicked amusement confirmed what you had feared.

This wasn’t Itadori anymore.

This was Sukuna.

“Interesting...” Sukuna’s voice rumbled from the boy’s throat as his gaze locked onto yours.

His smile widened, predatory and cruel.

“What do we have here? Another little sorcerer, so eager to die?”

You held your ground, your body tense but steady. This was no ordinary curse you were facing. Every instinct screamed at you to flee, but you couldn’t, you wouldn’t, allow fear to take control. Your entire life had been building up to this.

“You’re not getting out of here,” you said, your voice firm.

“Not while I’m here.”

Sukuna chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. His eyes narrowed, taking you in.

“Brave words, but foolish. Do you really think you can handle me, girl?”

You didn’t respond with words, Instead, you shoved Megumi behind you and let your cursed energy flare to life around you, the air crackling with power. You moved swiftly, launching yourself at him, your blade drawn and poised for the strike.

But Sukuna was fast — faster than you had anticipated. With barely a flicker of movement, he dodged your attack, his grin never faltering. He countered with a swift punch, sending you flying across the air and crashing into the opposite wall. Pain exploded in your chest, and you gasped for breath.

“Is that all?”, Sukuna taunted, his voice filled with mockery as he stalked toward you.

“I expected more from someone who’s been chasing me.”

You coughed, blood trickling from the corner of your mouth, but you forced yourself to your feet. Your body ached from the impact, but the adrenaline was stronger. You had trained for this. You wouldn’t go down so easily.

As Sukuna advanced, you focused your cursed energy into a powerful barrier, your eyes blazing with determination. You wouldn’t let him win. Not today.

“Let the boy go,” you demanded, your voice sharper now.

“I’m your opponent now.”

Sukuna’s eyes gleamed at the challenge.

“Bold. But you should know better than to give me orders.”

The battle was swift and brutal. Sukuna’s strikes were relentless, his movements impossibly fast and deadly. You could barely keep up, each of his blows a near-fatal attack. But through it all, you fought with everything you had, refusing to back down.

You’ve studied Sukuna your entire life. You knew his techniques, his fighting style, the cruel unpredictability of his power. But even with all that knowledge, facing him in person was something entirely different. His cursed energy was overwhelming, suffocating, a malevolent force that pressed against your very soul.

And yet, you stood your ground.

As the fight wore on, something shifted in the way Sukuna looked at you. What had started as amusement, as mockery, slowly turned into something else. Curiosity. Interest. Even a hint of admiration.

“You’re not like the others,” he jeered at one point, dodging one of your attacks effortlessly.

His eyes flickered with something dangerous, something… intrigued.

“You’re still standing. Most would have died by now.”

You spat blood onto the ground, your body screaming in agony but your will unbroken.

“I’m not most people.”

Sukuna chuckled, the sound dark and throaty.

“No. You’re not.”

That was how it began. The first encounter — your first dance with death and the King of Curses. It didn’t end with your victory or his defeat. No, you knew better than to believe you could win against him in a single battle. But it wasn’t a defeat, either.

It was the beginning of something bigger.

After your first encounter with Sukuna, something within you shifted. Yuji Itadori regained control, but you knew it was only temporary. Sukuna wasn’t gone. He was still there, lurking beneath the surface, waiting for his next opportunity to take control. And when he did, you were there.

Every. Single. Time.

Every time Sukuna resurfaced, you fought him. It became a twisted routine, an endless game of cat and mouse where neither of you could claim absolute victory. You learned his techniques, his fighting style, and the nuances of his cursed energy. You pushed yourself harder, training longer, grew stronger. And with every battle, Sukuna’s interest in you grew as well.

He began to speak to you during the fights, taunting you, teasing you, but always with that glimmer of intrigue in his eyes. He never seemed eager to kill you, not really. In fact, there were moments, brief, fleeting moments, where he seemed to hold back, almost as if he was enjoying the challenge you presented.

“Why do you keep coming back?” you asked him one day, your voice strained after yet another brutal fight.

“Why haven’t you killed me yet?”

Sukuna’s grin was feral, his eyes glittering dangerously as he wiped the blood from his lips.

“Because you’re amusing,” he replied, his voice low and menacing.

“And because I’m not done with you yet.”

You hated the way his words sent a shiver down your spine, the way his gaze seemed to pierce straight through you. But more than anything, you hated how much you wanted to beat him, to prove yourself against the King of Curses.

As the months passed, you found yourself drawn deeper into Sukuna’s world. You fought him, studied him, and slowly but surely somehow began to understand him. He wasn’t just a mindless monster, not like the other curses you’ve faced. There was something more to Sukuna, something ancient and calculating, a mind sharper than any blade.

And Sukuna, in turn, began to learn more about you. He observed your fighting style, your strategies, your strengths and weaknesses. He pushed you, challenged you, forced you to grow stronger with every battle. There was a strange, unspoken connection between you: a mutual recognition of each other’s strength, a respect born from the countless times you’d clashed.

But there was something else, too. Something neither of you wanted to acknowledge. Something that simmered beneath the surface of every encounter.

You hated him. You despised everything he stood for, the chaos and destruction he brought into the world. But there was a part of you that couldn’t deny the pull you felt toward him — the way his presence ignited something fierce and primal within you.

And Sukuna? Sukuna had grown attached to the thrill of facing you. You were unlike anyone he’d ever fought. Strong. Determined. Unyielding. It was no longer about crushing you under his heel. It was about keeping you close, about testing your limits and pushing you to your breaking point.

But neither of you were willing to admit what was truly happening between you.

You smile weakly to yourself, blood spilling from the corners of your mouth. Not even now.

The Shibuya Incident is chaos. The city is overrun with curses and the streets are filled with blood and screams. You dispatched alongside other sorcerers to contain the situation, but things quickly spiraled out of control. The curses were too many, too strong, and the collateral damage was catastrophic.

Your focus was on protecting your students, the young sorcerers under your care who had been thrust into this nightmare far too early in their training. You were always their protector, their guide, and you would do anything to keep them safe. But the battle was relentless, and the curses were closing in fast.

In the midst of the chaos, Sukuna reappeared, his presence like a dark shadow over the battlefield. He took control of Yuji once again, his cursed energy crackling through the air with terrifying force. You felt it the moment he arrived, your senses attuned to the overwhelming hatred that accompanied his presence.

You barely had time to react before you were caught in the crossfire. A powerful curse lashed out at you and you moved to shield your students from the blow. But the attack was too fast, too strong. It tore through your defenses, the cursed energy slicing through your body like a hot knife through butter.

Pain exploded in your chest when you collapsed to the ground, blood pooling beneath you. Your vision blurred, your breath coming in ragged gasps. You had suffered injuries before, but this… this was different.

This was fatal.

The world around you fades almost instantly, the edges of your vision go dark. You can feel your life slipping away, your body growing cold.

Out of all people, why does it have to be him you long for the most? Why do your eyes start watering by the thought that you'll might never see him again, that you were never able to feel his lips pressed against yours? Are you really so naive, so dumb? Fuck, you really fell for the King of Curses, the root of all evil.

But then… you hear his voice.

“Get. Up.”

Sukuna’s voice cuts through the haze of pain and exhaustion like a lightning strike. You blink, trying to focus, trying to understand what is happening. Is he really there? Are you hallucinating?

“Get up,” he repeats, his voice sharp and commanding.

But then you feel it. His hand pressed against the gaping wound in your abdomen. No, he's really there. It's really him.

“You’ve suffered bigger wounds. And if you don’t get up, I’ll destroy everything that’s left of this world.”

You force yourself to breathe, your chest burning with the effort. But your body isn’t responding anymore. The pain is too much. You simply can’t move. The only reaction you're able to build up is a weak smile.

Is this really how it ends? With another empy threat?

Sukuna growls, crouching down beside you. He can't let you die here. Not like this, not after this short time. There's still so much more he needs to show you, so much more he needs to say.

Before he realizes what he's even doing, his hands are on you, cursed energy flowing into your body, patching up the worst of the damage. It isn’t healing, not really - more like forcing your body to hold together for just a little longer. Just enough to keep you.

“Please…”

Sukuna’s voice is strained, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

“Please get up. Don’t die on me.”

You blink, your heart stuttering in your chest as his words sink in. He’s asking you. Pleading with you...Not to die?

“Please don’t die on me.”

With his cursed energy coursing through you, you really feel your strength returning, your wounds slowly mending under his influence. The pain fades away, replaced by a strange warmth that spreads through your body. You gasp for breath, your chest rising and falling as life surges back into you.

Did…Ryomen Sukuna save your ass? Your heart pounds so roughly against your ribcage that you feel like fainting all over again. This can’t be possible, right? You have to be dreaming. After all, Ryomen Sukuna is your greatest enemy, responsible for at least half of the mess here.

“I’m not… done yet,” you rasp, your voice weak but steady.

Sukuna’s lips curl into a smirk, his eyes gleaming with something dangerous paired with a hint of relief.

“That’s more like it.”

He helps you to your feet, his hand lingering on your arm for just a moment longer than necessary. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you, the unspoken bond between you stronger than ever.

"What, were you worried about me, dumbass?"

Faster than you're able to react, he grabs your arm again and pulls you in. When his lips press themselves against yours, you forget how to exist for a second. Out of instinct, you open your mouth, allow him to enter, close your eyes when your whole body starts to burn up all over again.

Oh, you imagined this more than once. How do his firm arms feel against your touch? Are his lips softer than his cruel words? Is Sukuna a good kisser?

A desperate moan escapes your lips before you can stop yourself, your arms now roaming all over his muscular frame.

This...this is so wrong. You shouldn't do this, shouldn't even dream about something like this. But as sudden as he appeared, he's gone again, leaving you with nothing but your swollen lips as a proof for what just happened.

Are you actually going insane?

Bonus:

After Shibuya, things changed between you and Sukuna.

The battles continued, of course. The fights, the challenges, the taunts, the unnecessary deaths and killing  - none of that stopped and you still hate him with every fiber of your being for all those horrible things he did. But there is something else now, something that neither of you can ignore. The second Sukuna saw you lying there in a pool of your own blood on the edge of death, he started to realize it.

You aren’t a simple enemy for him anymore. You are his obsession.

Sukuna’s possessiveness over you grew, but so did the strange, unspoken understanding between you. You weren’t just another sorcerer to him anymore. You were his: his opponent, his challenge, his equal. And though neither of you would ever admit it out loud, there was a twisted sort of affection in that.

And you?

You’ve found something unexpected in the King of Curses. Not love, not really, but something close. Something raw and powerful, a connection without any logic and reason.

You didn’t know where it would lead. But you knew one thing for sure:

As long as Sukuna was in this world, you would be right there with him.

And that was enough.

Tags:

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@hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen

@magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut 

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@ynackerman9499 @keepghostly  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife 

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@okay-it-is-ivy @paridoliaaa @cupcaketeddybehr

[writers-potion]

Writing Group vs. Group & One vs. Many Fight Scenes

Group vs. Group

To win the readers' sympathies, make sure there are more (and stronger) bad guys than good guys.

Portray a strong "them versus us" mindset. Sometimes, this is a microcosm of a larger religious, social, racial conflict.

Visual clues are often used to emphasize the divide between the two groups: black coats versus white suits, jeans against shorts, etc. They'll have different weapons, use different languages or speech patterns.

Each group will have a leader who spearheads strategies and motivates the rest. This can be an established leader like the eldet sibling, the head girl of the school, etc. Or someone who has the respect of the others and takes charge spontaneously when the situation rises.

The Point of View

Group fights are easiest to write in omniscient PoV

Otherwise, choose a PoV character who is invovled in most action, and restrict yourself to their line of vision. You can take short breaks (like two seconds after he kills his immediate opponent) to account for how his comrads are doing.

One vs. Group

1 vs. many fights where the single person comes up triumphant are fun, but hardly plausible. The key is to provide an illusion of reality.

Keep the number of opponents realistic: three, not thirty.

He would be more highly trained/have special powers than all of his opponents.

He is positioned in such as way that all of his opponents come at him from only one direction (like having his back to a wall), or he stands in a higher terrains from where he can keep an eye on all of them.

She identifies the group's leader and takes him out first.

She creates a situation which forces the group to spread out, or hits when they are already dispersed rather than tightly knit together.

He uses a weapon which can take out several opponents at once. The most effective one for this would be a machine gun, or the hero holding two swords, one in each hand.

If you want the bad guys to come at the hero one by one, some ideas:

The hero has aken p position in a place where only one villain can squeeze through at one time

The attackers don't arrive simultaneously. They come running, and each attacks as soon as they reach the hero.

The gang has a code of honor which demands 1:1 fights.

The fight is an initiation requirment where the newbie must prove themselves in 1:1 combat with all of the established members.

Some tips:

If a hero with superior arms taking on many who are unarmed will make the readers see him as a butcher, and their sympathies will be lost for good.

If he take out too many opponents at once, the readers wouldn't feel like he has really put up a fight. If your hero has a superpower that allows him to do this, establish the boundaries of this power and push the hero to the limit.

If the novel has too many 1:many scenes, it will lose its dramatic effect, and worse, seem unrealistic as you move along.

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

[bonefall]

you're getting mentioned a bunch in the comments of Moonkitti's video and I have to say: THANK YOU!!! thank you for shedding light on such disgusting mistreatment that's in the books! thank you for supporting victims! I know Bumble is fictional, but your post about always loving and supporting victims than you hate their abusers really stuck with me as someone who's in a similar situation to Bumble. you're doing God's (or StarClan's, if you will,) work and it means so much to me. have a great day and keep at it!!

When I say the words, "Love is stronger than hate," I don't mean that it renders violence powerless, or that anger has no place. I mean that love is resilient, guiding, healing. Finding "bad guys" to attack, to hate, is cathartic-- but PREVENTING abuse, HELPING survivors to safety, that's what's meaningful.

Being motivated by hate is endless because of that. You're always looking for the next target, losing sight of the person who was actually hurt. But by sharing my love for Bumble, for survivors, and for people like you, we connect. We tell each other how much we mean in this world.

Bumble isn't real, but people who see themselves in her situation are. YOU deserve safety. YOU deserve community. You didn't deserve to see a character get mocked and murdered for asking for something as fundamental as sanctuary.

We will go forward, all together. PRAISE THE BUMBLE

[01zfan]

number 45 | o. sh

volleyball player!shotaro x manager!reader | 5.4k words

anons who requested this. i am SO SORRY it took me so long to get to this. i had to channel my past in volleyball for this and find the motivation for it so i hope the quality and the length makes up for the wait!

contains: semi-public, hand stuff only, mentions of clothing being tight (???)

shotaro would’ve never thought he’d end up playing volleyball. as a child he liked watching basketball the most, and when he he was in middle school he played soccer. but one summer at a sleep-away camp he picked up a volleyball for the very first time. shotaro received so many compliments about how he was a natural that he decided to tryout for the team on a whim. he knew it was insane to go into tryouts for a sport he never played, that it was less than likely he would be selected for the team. but it turned out everyone was right, he did have a natural talent. it wasn’t long before shotaro was accepted, becoming the libero on the junior varsity team.

shotaro also didn’t think he’d stay with it. just like soccer he found himself hitting ruts that caused him to lose momentum. he had to learn a completely new sport, he had to learn how to go for passes with his hands and dig for balls by diving his body to the floor instead of using his legs. the frustration of moving his body differently manifested into him not caring for the sport. it wasn’t long before he was not giving his all at practice, only nodding his head or shrugging his shoulders when the coach would ask him what was happening.

he even considered quitting when the coach wouldn’t bench him at the games. he knew he couldn’t stop himself from doing his best during games, especially with his team counting on him. he reluctantly ended up doing the best he could, and as a result his team did the best they could too. by his sophomore year shotaro was on the varsity team, and by the time he graduated he was captain.

when shotaro came to college it was a completely different atmosphere. he was against people stronger and taller than him, and he was up against people who didn’t have anything but love and passion for the sport. after the first day of tryouts shotaro stayed behind long after everyone left, practicing the drills he messed up. he was in his own little world, sweat dripping from his brow as he wondered if volleyball was worth it anymore.

“the gym is closed.”

shotaro turned away from the net to follow the voice. he remembers your face, but the amount of names he heard that day made him forget. all shotaro knew was that you were the assistant student manager. he saw your duffle slung over your shoulder as you wiped sweat from your brow with the bottom of your shirt. 

“you’ll only hurt yourself at this point. try sleeping on it, the drills will come to you naturally.” you turned around to walk out of the gym, and shotaro was getting ready to resume his drills. you turned around again, hand on the strap of your bag as you got his attention again. “you’re shotaro right?” you asked.

shotaro was shocked that you remembered his name. he was one face out of the crowd of athletes. he doesn’t even remember if he had the chance to formally introduce himself to anyone before they started explaining the process of tryouts.

“yeah.” shotaro said.

”cool.” shotaro saw you look down at your feet, his eyes caught on the brace that was bound to your ankle and the small scar down your knee. “you’re really good. i hope you make the team.” you said.

shotaro could only nod, giving you a simple wave as you left the gym. he thought nothing about his performance was noteworthy, much less worthy of praise. but you seemed to mean it, and as you walked away shotaro took your words of advice seriously. he packed up shortly after you left, and he had a long nights rest to recuperate from all the exercise. 

he found out you were right when the drills came to him like second nature the next day. he saw you watching him a few times, giving him nods of approval and a thumbs up each time he caught your eye. shotaro found himself looking to you each time he did a perfect serve, or was able to get a ball that seemed unsalvageable. he found himself overhearing the pointers you’d give to everyone else, even if they didn’t apply to him. each time you gave him advice shotaro listened intently, blaming the heat he felt across his face on the strenuous workouts. 

at the end of the week when he made the team, you were the first person he looked for. in such a short time shotaro decided that you were his good luck charm and that he needed to let you know. he was quick asking for your number, hiding it under the guise of needing to have the student manager’s contact information. you gave it to him with a smile on your face, putting your name and number in his phone.

“i’m going to the dining hall after this.” you handed shotaro back his phone and he texted you so you could have his number too. “if you wanna come with.” you offered.

shotaro took you up on the offer a little too quickly. he sat with you and the rest of the team, sharing stories about volleyball before coming to college. shotaro saw you nod and smile, understanding all the nuances of what it was to be a volleyball player, but never sharing stories of your own. he knew not to ask about it, he had come to that conclusion after finding about your vast knowledge of the sport and seeing the scar on your knee.

you and shotaro had made fallen into your own post-practice routine. he would wait for you in the main gym while you finished your clerical duties at the end of the night, and you two would walk together to the dining hall. sometimes you would end up catching the rest of the team, but more often than not it would be just the two of you sitting in the booth of an emptying dining hall. you two talked about life back home, what you were planning to study, and everything in between. 

the friendship blossomed quickly, but the dynamic changed the more you two spent time together. shotaro went from sitting across from you in the booth to sliding in next to you, so close that your shoulders touched. you two went from saying goodbye outside of the dining hall to shotaro walking you to your dormitory. eventually he was holding your duffle bag for you on the walk over, and one day he finally got the courage to reach for your hand. 

by the middle of the season, you two were in a relationship. everyone on the team seemed to know before you guys did, some even bet on how long it would take before you two got together. you two kept your relationship out of practice. you didn’t hesitate to advise shotaro and you refused to hold back critiques relayed to you by the coach. 

he respected you for your professionalism and passion for the sport, he truly did. he loved how you cared for the team and managed the responsibilities of the job while also easing everyone else’s stress. shotaro and his team never had to worry about the logistics of practice, they never had to worry about the little things if you were there. shotaro always found himself puffing out his chest proudly when his teammates would praise your hard work or mention that they never had a student manager like you. so shotaro didn’t know why he would feel a pang of jealousy seeing the girlfriends of his teammates in the stands wearing their jerseys. 

he knew it was unfair to impose anything on you. shotaro was able to get your support constantly outside the context of games, so he didn’t know why he felt that way. sometimes all shotaro could think about during games or practice was seeing his player numbers across your chest. he thinks he would be unstoppable on the court if he saw it only once—he’d keep a picture of you in his mind like soldiers did of their wives back home before going to war. but he would never ask you to do anything that would show such blatant favoritism, even if he was your boyfriend and everyone knew it. he could also never bring himself to admit the primitive aspect of it all, that he would feel some sense of satisfaction seeing his number on your body. so because of that, shotaro simply kept it to himself. 

he had planned to never tell you about it, but it was hard to avoid the conversation when it was staring at him right in the face. 

it was another long practice, ending with you walking around the main gym looking for shotaro. you called out his name and texted his phone to see where he was. you knew that no one else was in the gym at this time, you had even seen the custodians leave for the night after cleaning the floors. you followed the sounds of the showers, standing outside as you called out your boyfriends name again.

“i’m in here.” he called back.

“i’ll wait outside!” you yelled, hoping your voice would carry over the sound of running water.

as soon as you were done speaking, you heard the water shut off.

“come in. it’s just me.” shotaro said.

instantly you shook your head, looking up to the camera that was pointing right at the entrance of the showers.

“i can’t. not allowed.” you said simply.

shotaro came from around the corner of the tile wall, only wearing a towel around his waist. he had another towel in his hands, running through the wet strands of his hair.

“if anyone asks, say you heard me slip and fall.” shotaro beckons to you, and your feet started moving on their own accord. “come in.” he smiled. 

shotaro lead you through the winding tile walls of the showers until you made it to the main dressing room. you set your duffle down beside the bench, sitting on the polished wood as shotaro finished getting ready. you looked up in the large mirror embedded into the wall in front of you to stare at him. the pale blue tiles went all the way up to the white ceiling. you counted them up and down, each time leading you back to the reflection of shotaro’s body in the fogging glass.

he pretended to not notice your stare as he took his towel off to dry the rest of his body. when he looked in the mirrors reflection and saw you look away quickly, his laugh filled the room.

“it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” shotaro said.

you nodded your head sheepishly, still looking down at your feet. he wasn’t wrong, you had seen shotaro naked more times than you could count on your hands and feet. but it was different seeing him outside the privacy of your dorm rooms. you have never seen shotaro naked in a place that could easily be invaded. all it took was a straggler from practice or a custodian to catch you staring at your naked boyfriend. you only slightly settled down when you heard him pull up the pants to his tracksuit. when you looked back up to the mirror shotaro was putting on his shirt. 

he came behind you, looking at you in the mirror with a smile on his face. shotaro bent down and kissed the crown of your head. you tilted you head to look at him directly.

“how was practice for you?” you asked.

shotaro shrugged his shoulders, moving his hand to massage your neck. he continued looking in the mirror to stare at you, and when he got to a stubborn knot you let your head lull forward.

“it was good. i’m a little nervous for the game tomorrow.” shotaro answered.

you hummed sympathetically, pulling shotaro’s hands away. you guided him around the bench to stand in front of you. you were sincere as you spoke, holding his hands tightly.

“you’ll do great, i know you will.” you encouraged.

shotaro nodded his head, feeling the anxiety of the important match melt off of his shoulders. he already felt like he was on top of the world just by looking down at you. shotaro watched the serious look on your face change to a bright smile as you squeezed his hands again.

“i do have a surprise for you.” you excitedly waved his hands around. “it just came in today and i can’t wait.” you said.

shotaro couldn’t control his own smile. he thought about what you could possibly give him as he cocked his head to the side.

“and what is that?” he asked.

you guided his hands again until he was standing next to the bench opposite of you. you both moved to straddle the bench, and shotaro watched you look to your duffle bag before looking to him.

“close your eyes.” when shotaro’s eyes stayed on your duffle bag you stopped messing with the zipper. “taro i’m serious!” you laughed.

shotaro hesitated for a moment, but let his eyes close. he let his imagination run wild, trying to think what surprise was waiting for him in your duffle. he thought maybe it was his favorite snack, maybe it was a lucky pair of socks or a handwritten note. when shotaro thought he heard the sound of your clothes jostling he had to compose himself. he tried to beat the dirty thoughts away with a stick as he held onto the edges of the bench. he heard you curse under your breath a moment later. 

when everything was still in the room again, he stuck out a tongue to wet his lips.

“okay. open them.” you said hesitantly. 

shotaro wasn’t expecting to actually be surprised when he opened his eyes. his wildest imagination would’ve never been able to pluck the view he was blessed with down from his mind to place it right in front of him. he let out a sigh from the other side of the bench as he took all of you in. he got the perfect view from where he was. he was able to see the 45 of his jersey stretch across your chest and how the tight fabric rode up to reveal your stomach. shotaro couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you pulled at the end of the sleeves in efforts to make it fit right. 

“it’s a little snug.” your attempt to pull down the bottom of the shirt was futile. it rode back up immediately once you were done pinching the fabric. “i thought mens sizes were supposed to be bigger.” you said

shotaro still couldn’t take his eyes off of your chest as he shook his head. the primitive thoughts shotaro tried to keep at bay became barbaric as he watched the tight jersey material stick to you. when you crossed your arms to cover your chest shotaro’s hands went to your bicep, pushing them back to your sides.

“perfect fit.” shotaro spread his legs on either side of the bench further as he took his hands off your arms. “it’s a perfect fit. no reason to hide.” he said.

he watched you mesmerized as you continued to move in his jersey. your end of the bench felt like it was miles away the longer he looked at you on the other side. he reached out a hand to you, letting his palm drag across the polished wood as he pulled his hand back. shotaro was grateful you understood what he needed as you came forward, your hands gripping the edges of the bench. you brought your arms in to make your chest poke out more, trying to give him a show. his eyes ran over his numbers before he went to the shy smile on your face. shotaro mirrored your grin as he scooted forward closer to you. shotaro’s smile only got bigger as you two came closer and closer, by the time your face casted a shadow on his you could see his gleaming teeth. he only stopped smiling a moment before your lips touched his, biting them as he looked down to yours.

your kisses were light and soft, both of you tilting your heads to accommodate the other. one of shotaro’s hands came from behind him to go to your waist, and one of your hands let go of the bench to hold onto his face. you could feel the soft skin of shotaro’s cheek underneath your fingertips as you deepened the kiss. you held his head in place as you pushed your tongue past his lips. shotaro’s other hand went to your waist and he pulled you in closer, until you had to put your legs over his.

shotaro only brought you closer, and he moved towards you to cover the rest of the space. you could feel all of him press against you as one of his hands moved to your ass and the other moved to the small of your back. shotaro applied pressure, making your chest come closer to his as your hand that wasn’t on his face went to his shoulder. he was grabbing handfuls of you, kneading whatever part of your body he could get his hands on while your grip on his shoulder tightened. neither of you refused to pull away, only catching quick breaths in the seconds one of you would pull away to readjust. 

when you moaned into shotaro’s mouth he remembered where he was. he was supposed to be like you, taking his role on the team very seriously. he remembered that he shouldn’t be making out with you in a place where you two could so easily get caught. so he pulled away from you reluctantly, and moved a gentle hand to your shoulder to keep you from leaning forward again. your plump lips called to him, but he remained steady as he caught his breath.

“we could get caught.” shotaro said.

you only nodded your head, eyes wide as you tried catching your breath. shotaro nodded too, trying hard to not let his eyes wander back to his numbers across your chest. he still had a handful of your ass, and he could feel you arch your back in efforts to give him more. your hands that were still on shotaro’s face pulled him in, and he only resisted for a second before going back in. 

now it was you smiling against his lips, taking a deep breath in as you pulled on his bicep. shotaro’s hand went to your thigh as he lifted to get you completely on his lap. your hand on his face went to the nape of his neck before traveling up his scalp, reveling in the soft strands running through your fingers. when you pulled shotaro sighed, slipping his tongue further into your mouth.

you two were so caught up in the act of kissing that you forgot what always followed it. you were lost in how shotaro’s soft lips pressed into yours that you nearly gasped in his mouth feeling his dick pulse against you. he responded by only pulling you closer, and when your lips broke apart shotaro went to whatever part of your body he could reach. when you tilted your chin back he went to your jaw, traveling all the way down your neck until he got to what his jersey covered. shotaro pulled your hips down to his lap and he pushed into you when you pulled the hair at his scalp.

“you’re really hard right now.” you sighed.

“sorry.” shotaro said in between kisses. “you just look so perfect.”

“yeah?” you laughed, bringing your hands to shotaro’s face so he could look up at you. “i thought we could get caught?” you asked.

“i don’t remember saying that.” shotaro said.

you both let out quick chuckles and shotaro couldn’t stop thinking about how all of his restraint melted away feeling in your presence. it was a problem he was developing, even worse than his habit of not saying mine when going for a ball or cursing under his breath when a play wasn’t set up perfectly. he looked at the glint in your eyes and down to his number that was covered up by your two bodies pressing together. 

there are worse problems to have.

shotaro travels his hand up your thigh, watching the anticipation build behind your eyes as you preen into him. he messes with the fabric at the end of the shorts before pressing into you. you break eye contact to tilt your head back but shotaro’s eyes stay on you, how your neck bobs as you get the little relief. he feels himself becoming impatient at the sight, and he pulls your waist down with his other hand so you can feel all of him.

he repeats the action, just pressing into you and bringing your hips down to meet his each time you raise them. he can feel his dick pulsing in his pants, and shotaro almost sticks his own hand underneath his waistband to relieve the aching. but he doesn’t want to miss a single second of you getting teased as your eyebrows furrow from the almost pleasure.

“shotaro.” you sigh, looking up to the ceiling.

your own hand starts drifting down, taking the time to press into shotaro’s chest and stomach before you reach the pants of his tracksuit. you look down to shotaro when the thick band of fabric stays in your way, and he looks up at you with his eyes gleaming. his hand stops pressing into your heat to go up to your waistband. 

“mhm?” he hums.

neither of you say anything else as both of your hands move at the same time. you grab his dick and shotaro goes to your clit—not wasting any more time to tease. you both silently come to the conclusion you will have time for all the other stuff later, right now it was all about sated the desperation both of you felt until you were somewhere more private. 

shotaro knew he’d have to take his time with you in his dorm when he rubbed the first circle around your clit. instantly you were curling into him, muffling your tiny whimper into his shirt. shotaro knew he would be better composed later in the day, that he would be able to tease you or coo at the sounds you made into the fabric of his shirt instead of biting his lip to keep his own sounds at bay. he couldn’t help himself when you squeezed your hand around his dick just right, and when you had his name and number written all over you. 

the both of you were too reckless to start at a slow speed. when your hands went to eachother you both started fast, rushing through the motions as the last bit of your brains that were working told you that you had to be quick. so you quickly pumped shotaro’s dick until he was thrusting into your hand and he wasted no time teasing your clit until you were begging for his fingers. you both were messes for eachother in seconds, hands wedged between smushed bodies and shoved underneath clothes in shotaro’s team locker room. the novelty of it all would’ve made you both laugh if you weren’t so caught up in trying to feel everything.

shotaro felt the joking mood shift as you looked up to him. he could see the lights of the locker room reflect your glassy eyes, making it look like you had stars swimming in your irises. you were serious as you looked up to him, lips pouting as you spoke.

“you’re so good at volleyball.” you said, looking straight into shotaro.

his fingers on your clit faltered at the sudden praise, only finding their tempo again when you bucked your hips and let out a small desperate sound.

“what?” shotaro asked, trying to keep up with your hand that tightened around his dick.

“you’re so good at volleyball.” you repeated.

you repeated the words without faltering, tilting your head. you could see the confusion written on his face, flickering between that and how his lips parted when you squeezed a little tighter. you leaned back to rest on your hand that wasn’t on shotaro, giving both of you enough room to move your hands faster. the new angle let you pull down shotaro’s sweats enough to see the tip of his dick peaking out past your hand.

“i know i said you could do whatever you want.” you pumped his dick faster, feeling him pulse in your hand each time you went back down from his tip. “but i wanted to die when you told me you were thinking of quitting.”

shotaro quickly changed the angling of his hand in your pants, making his palm face the ceiling so he could finger you and stimulate your clit at the same time. you closed your eyes from the change and let a tiny fuck slip past your lips before opening them again. you clenched around his fingers when shotaro licked his lips.

“why?” he asked weakly.

“because you’re such a good leader, even if you aren’t captain yet” you started swiveling your hips into his hand, chasing that feeling building in the pit of your stomach. “they couldn’t do it without you.” you whined.

shotaro found himself chasing after something else, and a different feeling erupted across his body hearing your praise. he didn’t know what to do with himself hearing the rushed compliments fall from your lips as he watched you try and fuck yourself on his fingers. shotaro came to the embarrassing realization that he didn’t need you to touch him anymore, he could fall apart just from watching you and hearing you talk to him.

“they’re more than capable.” shotaro bent his fingers inside of you, eyes already focused on your chest to watch it jolt in the confines of his jersey as your whole body twitched. “feels good?” he asked.

shotaro watched you lull forward, eyes lazily focused on him as you nodded your head. he could see you actively trying to remember what you were saying, swallowing as you prepped your shaky voice.

“eunseok would’ve never been able to fix his jump serve if you didn’t help him.” shotaro tried putting in a third finger, but when he saw you wince he pulled back. “and sungchan kept touching that fucking net until you scolded him.” you said.

shotaro could tell you were getting close by the way your words were turning into babbles and your hand on his dick was becoming more and more rushed. he watched you screw your eyes shut and when you opened them he could see the tears in the corner of your eyes as you tried to focus on his. shotaro kept his eyes open wide, trying to remember the sight when he tries out for captain. 

your walls closed around shotaro’s digits repeatedly, and he continued pumping his fingers in and out even if it felt like you were trying to suck him in. 

“you think i’m a good volleyball player?” shotaro asked the question just to see you pitifully nod your head.

“you’re the best.” you arched your back, and the new angle helped shotaro go deeper inside of you. “you’re my favorite.” you whimpered.

shotaro’s eyes were wide as he took in every word. your voice dripped with sincerity as you rushed through sentences. shotaro used one of his hands to trace the curve of your body, ending at the bottom of his jersey. he pulled on the material, bringing the pinched fabric down your torso until it was completely straight. shotaro felt a newfound pride in himself that materialized in his chest, trickling down like molten lava to his stomach. immediately when he let go the tight fabric clung to you like a second skin, riding up the same way it did before. shotaro ran a quick hand through his hair as he felt the excitement prickling across his body.

“i’m gonna cum.” shotaro said.

his voice was beginning to waiver, floating between grunts and prolonged sighs. you nodded your head again, pushing up from your other hand to focus. you squeezed shotaro’s tip, using his precum as lubricant for your ministrations. he jerked his hips up quickly, bunching his pants at his mid thigh to free the rest of his dick. you moaned at the sight, using your legs that were still on shotaro’s to bring your body closer to his.

shotaro wrapped his hand around your back, giving you stability and enough space to work your hands the same way. when he saw you bring the end of his jersey down shotaro couldn’t hold out any longer. he pressed his fingers into your side and he closed his eyes as relief washed over his body. you kept working your hand when shotaro stilled underneath you, and he heard more mumbled praises fell from your lips as his his dick twitched in your hand. he left out one final curse, leaning forward until his head rested on your shoulder.

when shotaro opened his eyes he saw his cum glide down your hand and his abs. he saw some of it on your stomach, dribbling down your body to seep into the fabric of your sweatpants. you looked down too, looking back up to shotaro with a hunger that made him almost ready to go again. 

before you could close the distance between your lips shotaro leaned forward, working still feeling the buzzing across his body as his lips ghosted over yours.

“i couldn’t have done it without you.” shotaro said it quietly, afraid that if he got any louder he would only moan. he took his fingers from your clenching heat to focus on your clit. “you’re my motivation to be in this stupid sport and the only reason i stayed.”

shotaro felt your legs shake over his and your hand moved from his dick to dig your nails into his stomach. shotaro flexed for you, hardening the muscle underneath his skin. he could feel the cum on your hand smear onto his stomach, warm and sticky as your grip on him changed.

“you close?” shotaro asked, readjusting his hand around your back.

“so close.” you whimpered. ���just keep going.”

“okay baby.” shotaro’s hand across the small of your back pulled at you, making you lean forward into his chest. “moan into my shirt if you need to.” he whispered.

you nodded while pushing your hips forward trying to work with shotaro’s fingers. your entire body went tense, gripping shotaro’s shirt so hard the fabric wrinkled. your moans became whiny and you could feel shotaro nodding his head.

“i got you.” he whispered into your ear.

your full body shook around shotaro, and he continued to nod and keep the same speed. he could feel the same relief coming off you in waves, and shotaro let a finger run down your folds to gather your cum. he used that as extra lubrication on your clit, speeding up until you let out a shuddering breath. he didn’t stop until you started shaking your head against his chest and your hand on his abs clasped around his wrist. he still tried circling his hand, smiling as how you had to push yourself off his lap before you got overstimulated.

“baby.” shotaro breathed.

“mhm?” you hummed. 

you still leaned into his chest, and shotaro watched your back raise and lower as you tried catching your breath. he saw the small trace of tear tracks underneath your hooded eyes.

“did you mean all the stuff you said?” he asked.

you put your hands to his face as you nodded your head. shotaro leaned into your palms, and the need to be touched by you took over his mind again. 

“of course i did.” you bring shotaro forward to kiss his forehead. when you pulled back he saw the facetious smile on your face. “i would love to tell you more about it, actually.” you teased.

you and shotaro were tripping over eachother as you gathered your belongings. you readjusted your sweatpants and threw shotaro’s hoodie over his jersey. shotaro slung both of your duffles over his shoulder quickly. you moved in a haste, not looking back at the bench to see if you left a mess. shotaro didn’t turn around till he made it to the exit, peaking at you one last time with a joking smile on his face.

“just make sure the jersey stays on.” he laughed.

[madame-fear]

*ೃ༄ 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐑𝐔𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏 .ೃ࿐

[ one | two ]

ೀ amira speaks! : Based on this plot. Okay,, I know I said I would write it all in one part, but splitting it in two helps me stay motivated to keep writing. 🙈 Smut will be in part two. This chapter only contains Luke being a bit possesive with you. Enjoy! 💕 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : Prince Lucerys had his eyes set on you ever since you were children, and his affection for you grew stronger when you comforted him after losing his eye at the hands of his Uncle Aemond. But when your time of marrying another Lord comes in your early 20s, the now young Lord of Driftmark isn’t happy at all — though, he plans on making you his, as you were always supposed to be. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ word count : 2.1k

˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : AU, smut, friends to lovers, a bit of an obsessive Lucerys. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : One Eyed!Lord!Lucerys x (childhood best friend)!Reader

Lucerys Velaryon, your childhood best friend, had grown to be known as the “One Eyed Prince”; or the “One Eyed Bastard”, as many referred to him.

The loss of his eye had been greatly significant in his early life, having lost it after trying to defend his older brother Jace and his cousins from his uncle Aemond. If anything, it had helped to encourage and fuel the resentment their families felt for one another. And you had been there to witness the tense aftermath of the situation.

Your mere presence was enough to comfort Lucerys when you were just young children; you had a shoulder for him to cry on if he wished to grieve his eye, until he became used to living with it. “The loss of your eye is a symbol of the courage you had to confront your uncle, and defend your loved ones,” you constantly reminded him, embracing him tightly whenever he needed you. And the comfort he so desperately sought for, was always found in you.

You had always been there for the Velaryon prince, before and after the incident with his eye. But, there was something in that constant warming comfort you provided for him, that made Lucerys feel as if he could melt right under your love and attention. Perhaps, it was something he had been feeling deep down inside of him without even admitting it to himself, you were supposed to be just a good friend — but during the aftermath of his eye loss, nothing else mattered to you except his well-being.

You made sure to spend as much time as needed with him, offering comfort and love; which made Luke realise, just how perfect you were in every sense. Hardly any other woman could possibly compare to the inner and outer perfection you so gracefully carried.

The years passed by, and his personality simply grew to be more of a cold, and reserved one; compared to the timid, innocent boy Lucerys used to be. You couldn’t complain — his personality around you remained as endearing and gentle as it always used to be, though a bit more overprotective. You had grown to be as delicate as glass, precious as the petal of a flower; how could Luke not be protective over you? Especially since he was particularly fond of you... In more than just a friendly way.

Every boy, Prince, and Lord had their eyes fixed on you whenever you passed by, occasionally getting to flirt with you and making you laugh. Lucerys was never exactly proud of this, especially when another man tried to flirt with you in front of his face. He always kept a close eye on you, and made sure to advert your attention away from those men with any excuse that came to him. Jealousy ran on his blood like a fiery venom, and it was impossible for him to hide it — yet, you never realised the obvious intentions he had of keeping you away from anyone who wanted to compete against him for your affection.

Lucerys’ efforts where never in vain, they worked just the way he wanted. You always gossiped with Lucerys about whatever man tried to woo you, laughing to yourselves at your own remarks — and it never seemed as if you were interested in anyone else, except Lucerys when his presence was near your own. Compared to him, you weren’t exactly discreet when your gaze was fixed on his features, and to him, that was something to hold great pride for.

As you had always done since childhood, you sat under a large tree that you both considered your secret spot. The weight of his head rested peacefully on your lap, with his eye closed. One of your hands held a book, which you were reading outloud to him, and your other free hand mindlessly played with his dark curly hair. Both of you had managed to find a free space between your duties, deciding to spend some quality time together after quite some time of not having seen each other.

He now might be the Lord of Driftmark, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t visit you, and do the same things you had done since children. After all, the responsabilities that came with being a Lord were exhausting — could he not calmly rest with you, the woman that practically owned his heart, feeling your fingers mess with his hair and your soothing voice reading to him?

Pausing in between your lecture, you softly tilted your head towards him, admiring how peaceful he seemed with his head weighing on your lap. Teasingly, your fingers moved from playing with strands of his hair, and they moved to slowly caress the skin on his cheeks. “Have you fallen asleep already?” you inquired, with an amused voice tone and a growing smile at the corner of your lips.

Like your own, Lucerys couldn’t help but immediatly smile, softly chuckling as he opened his eye. “I am very well awake, love, and attentively listening to you.” his green eye stared at you admiringly, appreciating how the sunlight reflected gracefully on your features. The cold, reserved personality he had grown into, fortunately never affected your relationship.

Yes, Luke might have grown quieter and more kept to himself, but whenever you were near him all of that faded away — being the sweet, gentle boy Lucerys had always been with you. Except that, he might be quite a bit possesive around you; with no other Lord or Prince being allowed to flirt with you, just a mere cold glare with his eye as he stood by your side was enough to frighten them away.

A soft chuckle spurred from you as your fingernails playfully scraped on his skin to caress him. His eye felt heavy, feeling as if he could fall asleep right there at the mere sensation of your warm touch. “I have greatly missed you, Luke.” you began speaking, as his grin grew wider. “I’m quite content having been able to sneak away from our duties to be together. Your duties as the Lord of Driftmark are taking your attention away from me.”

Part of you said that as a jest, with both of you laughing softly at it, and another part of you was being wholeheartedly genuine. And having known you since childhood, he immediatly noticed that. Which left him quietly surprised, to hear suh confession — but Luke wasn’t going to deny the fact that he enjoyed having you clinging to him for his attention and care.

“I could say the same to you, byka jorraelagon.” lazily, he raised his hand. His fingertip lovingly caressed you under your chin, fixing his stare on your delicate features. “But don’t worry too much about it. None of my duties as Lord ever take you off from my mind, I can assure you.” a rosy hue smeared across your cheeks, nearly melting as his digit traced your skin under your chin. It seemed as if he knew exactly what to say, and how to touch you. It was satisfying enough for him to see your reaction, which was just the one he wanted.

Softly, you sighed, allowing him to keep stroking your skin. You had always longed for these private moments between the two of you, where you could do or say anything without caring for anything else. The smile that had grown at the corner of your lips dropped faintly, becoming a grimace as you frowned. Your expressions slowly turned into a despondent one, to which Lucerys immediatly noticed as his eye stared attentively at you.

Your own thoughts about enjoying solitude with him, escaping from your own responsibilities just to feel the warmth of each ofher’s presences, reminded you of your betrothal — and you were afraid such compromise would stand in the way of your meetings with Lucerys, in one way or another.

“What’s the matter?” he cooed calmly, noticing the change in your demeanor. You offered him a frowny smile. “Nothing, Luke. Everything is alright. Why?” as quick as you were in dismissing his concern for you, he wouldn’t leave it just there. “I know you. Your face says otherwise, something happened.” slowly, he stopped caressing you under your chin with his fingertip, just to rest his hands on his chest as Lucerys stared at you attentively.

“What happened? I need to know, (y/n).” Lucerys kept insisting, and you knew he wouldn’t give up so easily — not when he noticed something was troubling you. You huffed at the mere thought of it, beginning to shake your head in disappointment. “It’s just...” the words trailed off, hesitating for a moment before continuing. Your gaze lingered elsewhere, feeling how his eye was fixed on you.

“I have been betrothed— And... I’m afraid our moments together will not be as often as they currently are.” you managed to spill out. The words spurred mumbled, but they escaped from your lips, finally.

Moving your stare back to him, his expression was cold — yet, mixed with other emotions. Luke seemed confused, blankless, and yet... So impotent. Betrothals were a duty that no noble could ever from, it was a fate expected for you. But you should be betrothed to him. He could treat you so much better than any other mediocre, arrogant Lord. No one knew you better, than Lord Lucerys himself.

His head weightened further on your head, before he rapidly moved to sit by your side, instead of resting on your lap. His eyebrows knitted in confusion. “Betrothed?” he inquired in a low tone. “Betrothed to whom, exactly?” both your hands now laid on your lap, fidgeting anxiously with your own fingers. Bewilder was expressed all across his young features. Your eyes stared down at your fingers, nibbling on your lower lip discreetly.

“I have been betrothed into House Lannister.” you mumbled, “Specifically to Loren Lannister.” deciding to stare at him, you noticed his jaw clenched slightly. His hazel eye lowered it’s sight to the vividly green grass, thinking quietly to himself. You stared at him nervously, noticing the silence looming between of you, amidst the faint sounds of the birds chirping.

House Lannister. The Lannisters had quite a reputation of their own — he always thought of them as arrogant, petty, and proud of themselves. Out of all the noble Houses that there were, you had to be betrothed into House Lannister? “Velaryon” suits you better, anyways — the young Lord knew he would eventually get away with what was his. You were not getting married to some cheap Lannister, not under his watch. A pretty little thing such as yourself will not go to waste with the One Eyed Lord.

“I see.” Luke coldly retorted. Despite his clear bemuse at the abrupt news, he felt satisfied with himself — he knew how he would find his way to get you out of that dreadful betrothal of yours. And that way, you’d be entirely free for him once again. Offering a warm smile, the One Eyed Velaryon took your delicate hand lovingly, caressing your skin with his thumb. He felt invitingly soothing, making you mindlessly grin and become flustered at the touch of his digit on your flesh. “But don’t worry, my love. I’m certain your betrothal will not affect our frequent meetings.” His hand raised your own towards his rosy lips, pressing them gently against your knuckles to give them a loving kiss. The rosy hue tainted on your cheeks leisurely became a reddish tone, offering him a sheepish smile to hide away your shyness whenever Luke demonstrated tender affection towards you — an endearing type of affection that he never thought of giving to someone else. Doubt overwhelmed you at hearing his confident statement.

“Are you...” the warmth of his lips on your knuckles lingered, as he pulled away, staring at you with his only eye. Gods, how pretty you were when it was obvious you were melting for him. “Are you quite certain about it? What if... What if my betrothed dislikes the idea of us–” the young Lord shook his head, using his other free hand to place it on your cheek comfortingly. You immediatly gave into it, allowing your head to fall against the palm of his hand.

“Your betrothed will say nothing, because I will find a way of being together— as I always do.”

You meekly smiled at him, softly allowing some chuckles to spur from those beauteous lips of yours; clearly content at his determination.

You were endearingly sweet— so innocent. Of course the One Eyed Lord had everything mapped out to find his way to you, as he had always done ever since you were children. Your lame excuse of a betrothed was no challenge to him, as he had exactly planned out how to get rid of him; having you all for himself, without anyone to possibly disturb your relationship.

You didn’t belong in House Lannister, and much less in Casterly Rock. You beloged in House Velaryon — you belonged in Driftmark. And Lucerys wouldn’t have it any other way.

♡ taglist : ♡

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[prettieinpink]

Hi lanny! Could you provide a guide on how to get into working out? 💗💖

GUIDE TO STARTING TO WORK OUT

hi lele 💝☀️ hope this guide helps you w your journey!!

The first step to working out is setting goals related to exercise, not physical appearance. Avoid things like fat loss, muscle gain, smaller waist, bigger glutes and so on. 

While you can make this a separate goal, the reason why I don’t want you to associate it with exercise is that we then allow the way our body looks to dictate whether we believe the exercise we’re doing is good enough. 

Exercise and body aesthetics are two different things. Exercise is a means of nourishing our body, soul and mind, while body aesthetics is how ‘good’ our body looks. 

On that topic, I want you to stop focusing on your physical appearance when starting to exercise and I want you to start implementing a new mindset shift about your body. Instead of seeing your body as something to look at, appreciate it for what it can do. 

For example, your hands create meals, hug your loved ones and help you with essential tasks. Your legs help you to get around, especially to your favourite places. Your stomach helps with digesting all the yummy food you eat. 

Some goal ideas:

Lift 15kg+ 

Be able to do a plank for more than 5 minutes

Learn how to do a push-up

Be able to run on the treadmill for 30 minutes 

Gain more stamina and exercise for longer 

Moving on, set a time each day in which you prioritise exercise. This can be for however long you want and the times can vary daily. 

So, during this period, you are not allowed to do anything else other than exercise. It doesn’t even have to be a specific exercise either, if you’re feeling lazy and laps walking around the house is what feels best, do it. 

However, avoid obsessing over working out and losing yourself to exercise. This kills motivation, in exercise starts to feel like another obligation in the day and not a privilege. 

Now, you have to choose what exercise is right for you. I don’t believe you’re limited to one exercise, if you want you can have more than 1. 

Gym – Perfect for a mix of strength and cardio, however not the best option if you want to exercise for free.

Yoga – Tones muscles while also being a mindful experience. Low low-impact, but recommend doing it after cardio. 

Cycling – Tones the legs and the glutes, but cycling may not be the best idea depending on where you live. 

running/jogging – Strengthens muscles and bones, however, if you don’t have flat areas, may not be the best idea. 

Pilates – Improves flexibility and tone, while still being low impact (still may be challenging).

Weightlifting – Makes you stronger and boosts your metabolism, best done at the gym. 

There are plenty of ways to exercise that I haven’t mentioned here, but these are just ideas so you can research the ones that suit you best.

I recommend talking to a doctor if you haven’t done exercise in a long time, as that can open up the possibility of injury. 

Then, once we have our goals, times and what we’re doing, we need to exercise. Implementing exercise in your life is best done slowly. 

Start with simple, and smaller versions of workouts, even if you think you can do more. Do this for about a week, then try to extend yourself with something harder. If it is too hard, don’t be afraid to go back a step. 

Make it fun, create a motivating exercise playlist or watch your favourite TV show while doing it. 

However, the main thing about exercising is that every day you are not always going to feel like it, but that is when we have to discipline ourselves, talk to the mirror and say; ‘Me exercising is a privilege, I get to nourish my body because I love and respect it so much’. 

This was the best way I disciplined myself into working out. Treating it like a privilege and something that is very benefical, rather than a painstakingly challenging activity.

Or, instead, you can visualise what you would look and feel like if you continue like this for the next 5 years.

[choppyama]

Shoyo’s feelings towards Tobio are so ridiculously apparent that it takes less than 10 seconds within a convo with the guy to conclude that yeah he’s so not casual about his rival

‘oKaY so in other words’ sugawara clocked that IMMEDIATELY I’m laughing

It’s interesting to me that when kindaichi asked hinata why he was being so desperate at training camp, his response was “well I’ve decided that Kageyama is my goal, I have to beat him OR ELSE I’LL BASICALLY DIE”

He was there bc he needed to get stronger and learn how to develop more useful skills so he can stand on his own. He doesn’t want to fall behind when all of his peers, not just at karasuno but everyone all around him is improving.

He could have said something similarly to that but instead in his response, he emphasized solely on his rivalry with kgym as his biggest form of motivation.

Another noteworthy comment is after their fight in s2 when Hinata was practicing alone once again, focusing on improving himself :

It’s basic rivals dynamic but the way shoyo strictly base his own progress and growth upon his ability to measure up to and surpass his greatest rival…

The way he’s so determined to keep up with kgym, and whenever he speaks about him, it feels like he’s doing it all (as in working so hard) partially to avoid being left behind by him in particular.

Another fitting example is how during their fight, Shoyo was filled with frustration abt wanting to grow. However, when he was with Yachi, that wasn’t the ground breaking issue. He couldn’t help but confess, be vulnerable about his relationship with Kageyama. He ended up crying on his bike on the way home, all bc he didn’t want to lose the rivalry and partnership they had built over these past weeks.

I can’t explain this better it’s just interesting to me that the underlying focus is always on being able to stand by kageyama’s side as an equal, it’s like having a tunnel vision, using Tobio as a focal point.

reminds me of when saeko said “if shoyo hadn’t ever seen you on tv that day, he never would’ve chosen to bike over a mountain to go to karasuno, and he never would’ve met tobio” SHE GETS IT

On his bike here once again just to meet Kageyama at the gym later that day. unknowingly, coincidentally chasing after/towards Kageyama. Everything about them is so meant to be

Each time the infamous 'if I'm not alone' quote is mentioned Tobio is always the first one to appear by Shoyo's side.

and there it is again, the bike imagery. Climbing a mountain while talking about feeling ‘alone.’ It’s dark, it’s a quiet, kind of a gloomy scenery, and then next clip suddenly you hear Kageyama’s voice ‘let’s go hinata’ and everything lights up. That’s his version of ‘I’m here.’

It’s very much established that hinata’s goals does not revolve solely around Kageyama. He has other rivals, other strong players he wants to beat. He wants to be strong for his own sake too, but his biggest motivation and inspiration remains Kageyama, hence why he’s the final boss.

All of these imo is best displayed through the imagery of hinata looking at Kageyama’s back, tirelessly chasing after him on his bike

finding Kageyama in his path in Brazil, seeing him on tv, a direct parallel to his first encounter with the little giant which is so underrated

“won’t be outdone” pls learn how to be normal….

>ᴗ<

If you were to ask me my favorite kagehina moment ever it would most likely be ‘I win this time too' simply bc of how unique it is and how It’s a testament to how deeply shoyo values their promise.

Hinata's world crumbling down, he desperately wants to stay on the court and no else one could comfort him with those words. No one could get him to stop crying and recompose himself almost instantly like Tobio did!

he knows hinata best, he knows EXACTLY what to say to get through to him. This time he wins but there will be a next time.

and if you heard the voice act by the VA, shoyo sounds so broken and to have Kageyama put every negative thought in his mind on hold and makes him think clearer for a moment there... It’s peak kghn.

I love how before the fated match, Furudate brought back all of Kageyama’s ‘controversial’ quotes to show that everything has been leading up to this moment while also reminding us that those words have served as huge motivations for Hinata, guiding him on his path and keeping him striving for more.

“Eating, sleeping, learning. Everything he did to live was just one long run-up towards that day. The promised day was still far, far away, but it would definitely arrive”

[nyuuronfly]

On Rain World lore and it's implementation within the game.

This is kindof a random ramble I went on in a Discord chat and just feel like sharing elsewhere. (also note this is all primarily in reference to the original game, Survivor's story.)

I honestly think too many miss the forest for the trees a bit with RW, in terms of how important the lore is, if that makes sense. I talked with somebody about first-time experiences with the game and they said they'd watched a number of lore explanation videos on YT before starting, because of some reason along the lines of "I didn't trust the game to deliver its own story properly." To me this is almost saddening to hear because I really feel that misses the point of why the game has it's lore to begin with.

To me, while playing, any tidbits i learned about history or other information contributed to a feeling like the world I was navigating had a very real history that saturated it, yet one that I would be unable to grasp fully. It is an illusory feeling of realness, given how it is experienced. The game is mechanically not designed to incentivize collecting many information pearls, especially when in the original game you can literally just drop them off a cliff and lose them forever. You get the feeling often like you are bound to never be able to get everything, nor would you even probably want to put in the effort, so the illusion actually stays stronger because of that. Your mind wanders speculating about every little detail, whether intention truly existed behind it or not, because it feels like it did. You learned that it might have. Maintaining that illusion while playing I think is the primary reason they were included, not actually the experience of "knowing" the history. Rain World in general seems to have a thematic fixation on the simple idea that individuals have limited perspectives. Joar Jakobsson has said that one of the core ideas behind Rain World was to recreate the life of a "rat in Manhattan." That is to say, a creature that understands how to find food, hide, and live in a complex man-made structure, that cannot understand it's structuring purpose or why it was built. The very core issue of the iterators, is that the solution to the "great problem" intrinsically has to lie with knowledge that could only be obtained from "the other side." They are corporeal beings trying to know something that pertains to something outside corporeal reality. Yet pursuit of knowledge is very important to creatures like ourselves. Collecting any individual pearl is mostly an exercise in doing a lot just for little bits of knowledge. There is a lot of understanding of just how significant wanting to know more is, even something unimportant, when you are left in the dark the way you are in the game. Most information pearls you deliver are literally completely useless to know about, but they feel personally important, especially in how finding them relates to your connection to the iterators. My primary motivation to find pearls in my first play was to spend more time with Moon. On a very real emotional level, Moon felt like my only friend in the world while I played. On a mechanical level, she does literally nothing. But Rain World manages to operate on a very emotional, even instinctual level with how it's designed. I wanted to be in her company and have something to give her. Because I am alone, and lost. So something along those lines is why I felt saddened to hear the sentiment like Rain World somehow "fails" to deliver it's "story." The purpose of the game is not to find pearls and hear about some grand narrative. At it's core, Rain World is a game that's design was inspired by nature, and it's use of history within the world relates to us as a player the way history relates to us as people. It is relayed through people reading from records created by parties with their own perspectives, and connects us abstractly to a sensation that there is more out there than our own lives. That is a feeling you have as a player, and ultimately the true story that Rain World tells is the memories you have playing it. What you did, saw, and felt. The same as how our story is that of our own lives. That is the purpose of the game.

[calypsocolada]

REPETITION | y. Itadori

(part two! click here for part one)

synopsis: you promised a kiss, it’s time for you to make good on it…

authors note: hi hi hi! It’s been a little over a month since my last post. I’m just feeling slightly unmotivated but this was fun to write and I think it put me back in the mood a bit so I hope you all enjoy!!!

cw: fluff, slightly suggestive

wc: 1.7k

click here for my masterlist

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

Repetition. 

Again and again. 

Store up cursed energy, release it. 

Store and release. Manifest this technique and that technique. Dodge hits, send them back. Repetition. It keeps your mind sharp, or so you’ve read before. 

You’ve taken up training Yuji the past few months and with all your training he was well surpassing you to the point where sometimes he’d leave you winded. 

You’d stressed for a long time for him to find motivation and after he’d confessed his, you had kept your own to yourself. After all, Yuji was on borrowed time, although if the higher ups did deem him to be executed you knew after all this time spent with him you’d help him even if it meant your own death. He was just worth it. 

You promised him a few weeks back a kiss if he was able to keep his cursed energy in check but… you went back on your promise. Yuji wasn’t mad of course, he just assumed you’d gotten cold feet. That was until you told him, with a handshake, that if he was able to beat you in combat then that’s when he’d get his kiss. He was a natural at just about everything. Athletic and toned and stronger than most people you knew. He was resilient and you had really seen that in the past few weeks, he was a man possessed. Training day and night. He was persistent in his endeavors… which just happened to be kissing you. You had nothing left to teach him at this point. And you knew… you’d probably lose the fight. 

“You’re all in your head, feeling okay?” Yuji asked as you felt him sit beside you. You’d been eating outside, it was nice out but the sun slowly hid behind clouds making it sort of gloomy. You look over at him, nodding your head.

“Fine. How’d your mission go?” You ask as Yuji’s face physically brightens at your full attention. 

“Good,”  He smiles. “We managed to exercise all the curses without anyone getting hurt.” 

“Really?” Your eyes zone in on a bruise on his cheek. He notices your eye line and blushes. 

“No one got too hurt. It’s just a little bruise, that’s all.” He says. You reach over and barely swipe your thumb across it.

“I know you're tough and all but the last time you said that you had three bruised ribs, Yuji.” You say and notice Yuji’s unable to answer back. His entire face is beat red, eyes slightly wide. You bite back a smile and pull your hand away. He swallows dryly and clears his throat. 

“It’s-- just a reflex… I don’t want to worry you, that's all. Really I’m fine.” He reassures you.

“You can worry me, Yuji, I don’t mind.” You say, gathering up your things as Yuji plucks your bag of chips

“I’m a tough guy, Y/n.” He teases as you roll your eyes, snatching the chips back.

“I said that already.” You tease back, pushing to your feet as Yuji picks up your bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He’d gotten taller since you’ve known him, it felt as though you had to crane your neck to look up at him sometimes. “Besides, we’re gonna find that out today.” You bump gently against him as you two fall in step with one another. You hear Yuji suck in a breath, quiet excitement on his face.

“That’s right, we’re gonna go head to head today.” He says as you nod your head. 

“Uh huh.” You glance over at him and waggle your brows. “Think you can beat me now?”

“God I hope so.” Yuji breathes out as you dissolve into soft laughter.

“Wanna hold it over my head that badly, huh?”

“I don’t care about that.” He says and you raise a brow. He looks at you and suddenly you remember. It had been weeks since you’d told him that if he beat you you’d give him a kiss, how could you forget that. You blush and although you felt shy you didn’t let your face show it. 

“Ah… so that’s your end goal.” You tease as Yuji’s face reddens even more.

“N-No! That’s not… that’s not all I want.” He stutters.

“Jeez, you want more? That’s kinda greedy is it not?”

“Stop teasing, you know that’s not what I meant.” He chuckles and god you can physically feel your chest warm at the sound.

“Don’t get any funny ideas, Itadori.”

“Stop…” He covers his face with his hands shaking his head at your teasing. 

~

Arriving at the training room, you and Yuji part ways as you change into some more appropriate clothing. You tie your hair back and stretch a bit before walking back out into the main room. Yuji was stretching near the middle, dressed in shorts and a plain white tee. He smiled when he noticed you and you couldn’t help but blush. He stood to his full height as you walked over to him, holding out your hand. He took it. 

“Good luck.” You smirk as Yuji raises his head grinning. 

You’d fought a lot of opponents before this moment. Curses small and large. You’d been slashed and stabbed and kicked and punched. You’d been thrown back yards and even broke a finger that one time. You’d fought Megumi and sparred with Gojo, Gojo made you look like a fool, of course. The point is, you weren't weak. You were formidable. Especially since training with and alongside Yuji. You two made each other better. That’s why when you suffered defeat at his hands you couldn’t help but feel especially bitter. Yuji won two out of three rounds. The bastard. He’d taken all he’d learned from you and turned it up a few notches. You weren’t technically a sore loser but you weren’t a gracious one either. 

You sighed from the ground as Yuji pulled you to your feet. 

“Asshole, you knew my right leg was still healing from my last mission.” You chirped as Yuji smiled guiltily. 

“Sorry, it was too easy.” He chuckled as you gave him a sharp, teasing look. 

“I think I’m gonna need another round.” You tease as Yuji shakes his head. 

“Nuh uh, fair is fair.” He insists, making you groan. 

“Fine… you beat me. Fair and square.” You walk close to him and watch his eyes grow. He was realizing right in front of your eyes that you meant what you said. His cheeks pinkened and you watched him swallow dryly. “A promise is a promise.” You say softly, taking another step. You were only a foot or two away from him as you reached and gently grabbed his hand in yours. His eyes flicked from your eyes to your hand. He watched you pull his hand up and up until you gently pressed your lips against his bruised knuckles. He watched this all in rapt attention, a look of utter disbelief on his face. As though this wasn’t something real he was watching but rather his wildest dreams. Slowly you let go of his hand and his hazy eyes found yours. “There you go. A kiss.” 

“W-wait… that’s the kiss?” He asked, blinking as if coming out of a stupor. You nodded your head, holding back a smile. You were hoping to get a rise out of him but Yuji just glanced down at his hand and the smallest, most pleased smile fit to his lips. 

“Thank you.” He said in a soft voice. “That… that was worth all the training.” His voice held no sarcasm. You were… slightly shocked. 

“You’re… fine with that?”

“Hmm?”

“The kiss… you don’t… you didn’t want more?”

“More?” He repeated, slightly clueless. You blew out a breath before dissolving into laughter. 

“Yuji… you seriously… are so cute.” You say in between giggles. Seeing you smiling and laughing makes Yuji’s face brighten. 

“What? What’d I do?” 

“Come here.” You say after a moment, catching your breath. Yuji asks no questions, he just steps closer to you. You reach your hand up, cupping either side of his face. “I’m gonna give you a proper kiss, alright?” You ask as Yuji, unblinking, nods his head slowly. You tilt on the tips of your toes and he lowers his face just slightly until your lips meet his. You moved confidently, your lips finding his without a moment of hesitation. Drawing him closer, you took the lead in the kiss with a gentle but firm touch. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer with a strong but comforting grip.

You could feel his tension melt away, his body relaxing into your embrace as he surrendered to the intimacy between you. You both had gotten a little carried away, you’d pulled him down, crashing onto the training mat. It wasn’t careful but Yuji made sure you landed on top. You pressed against him, body and all, lips tangled as his hands flew to your hips, one sliding up your body to cup your face. 

“That… escalated,” you remarked between kisses. Yuji smiled against your lips, pinned on the mat beneath you he looked as though he’d died and went to heaven.

“So this is what you call a proper kiss?” He teases and you can’t help but laugh. 

“Uh huh. It’s how I motivate my friends.” You teased back. 

“I don’t want to just be your friend, Y/n.” Yuji pouted as you mentally palmed your face. 

“You really are so cute.” You smiled warmly. 

“What?! What'd I say?”  

“I don’t want to be your friend either, Yuji.”

“Well… what do you want to be?”

“What do you want me to be?” You throw back. You’re practically straddling the man, his hands planted on your hips. 

“Mine…” He says and you blush at the pure adoration in his eyes. 

“Alright… then that’s what I’ll be.”

“And— I’ll be yours?” His hands slide up your hips as you lean down close to him. 

“You’re all mine.”

[tobiasdrake]

My favourite thing about the Dragon Balls making death less permanent is that, in spite of taking away some impact, it gives us one of the best parts of the show.

Vegeta.

Narratively, he should have died on Namek. He has stalled for long enough, he is able to see the Legend come true (in his eyes), he knows Frieza will die, his ideology and strength have been surpassed by Goku and he no longer has much to offer.

And that's why bringing him back after his death is insane, because Vegeta has had his big sacrifice play and seen his past concluded... and yet he has to keep living. He's quick to jump to anger at Kakarot, but for a while there he is surely lost on what to do.

Frieza is dead. Nappa and Raditz are dead. The Super Saiyan has been born, his people have been avenged, he doesn't even have a need for a wish anymore.

What does he have left? Both as a character and a person, all he can offer now is rage. And so, that exactly what he does, because for a time its all he can do.

What he has left is himself, which has always been his motivating factor. He never really cared much about avenging his people, about Nappa and Raditz, or about the Super Saiyan. For Vegeta, it's always been about glorifying Vegeta.

We first started to get a glimpse of the kind of man Vegeta is when he and Nappa briefly discuss Raditz's death. Nappa wants to resurrect Raditz using the Dragon Balls but Vegeta thinks Raditz can go fuck himself.

Shortly after, they have a brief discussion about Gohan. Gohan's existence intrigues Nappa. He wants to start some sort of twisted Saiyan eugenics program to repopulate their race with Saiyans who are stronger than ever before.

Vegeta sees hybrid Saiyans as a threat to his personal glory, however, and wants to kill all humans instead.

Vegeta would rather the Saiyans go extinct than allow new Saiyans to come into existence that are stronger than him. This sets the stage for his relationship to his people's genocide.

Which he actively contributes to.

Going a step beyond refusing to revive Raditz 'cause "Fuck 'im", Vegeta kills Nappa himself.

Goku breaks Nappa's back so he can't fight anymore, which causes his existence to lose all value in Vegeta's eyes. So Vegeta personally disposes of the last remaining Saiyan besides him and the two Earthlings.

If Saiyans cannot advance Vegeta's ambitions, then what good are they?

From there, Vegeta goes to Namek and learns of the Saiyan genocide. His reaction is about what you'd expect from him up to this point.

He has no interest in revenge against Frieza for the Saiyans. He just wants to be out from under Frieza's bootheel. Vegeta's greatest ambition is to be the strongest in the universe.

Also, fun fact: He's heard of the Super Saiyan but never put any stock in this Saiyan gobbledygook. He only starts to consider the possibility once he sees Goku in his incomplete proto-Super Saiyan state.

"The Super Saiyan is fake but if it does exist THEN IT SHOULD BE ME."

Literally the first time he ever expresses any sentiment towards his fellow Saiyans is when he is actively in the process of joining them in death.

That Vegeta is dying and no longer has a future to think of seems to have done a number on his personality. This is the first time he ever even hints at caring for someone other than himself.

The thing about Vegeta is that he was very young when his planet was destroyed. In a sense, Vegeta and Goku are mirrors of one another. Neither of them are culturally Saiyans. Neither ever truly knew Planet Vegeta and its people.

They're a post-genocide diaspora, raised in other cultures by other people. Goku grew up to be culturally Earthling. And Vegeta... is culturally Frieza. He was raised in the grips of coldhearted capitalism, self-glorification, and the devaluing of people, places, and things into disposable commodities for market, and he internalized all of it.

The reason Vegeta is so different from Nappa and Raditz, so much crueler and more self-interested, is because - like Goku - Vegeta has never truly connected with his Saiyan heritage. How could he? His culture was annihilated.

Capable of reflexively dismissing his people's genocide with "LOL Fuck 'em" in the moment but then, with the honest vulnerability of impending death, admit "No, that sucks actually."

Vegeta spends the back half of the Namek arc forced into an uneasy alliance that's tearing him in half over who he is.

"You dumbass, if you had time to save me then you had time to let me die and sucker punch the enemy!" Vegeta barks at Gohan.

Meanwhile, Vegeta.

And that's after Gohan and Krillin betrayed him, too. Exposure to the Earthlings and their different ideas is getting to him. The way Gohan and Krillin treat him and each other is... it's not so much healing as deprogramming some of the things he learned from Frieza.

He's being exposed to a way of life that's different from the one he's always known, and it's affecting the way his mind interprets things like teamwork or the death of his people. The way he thinks and expresses himself.

People are complicated and much of who we are is a product of environmental factors. Change Vegeta's circumstances and you change Vegeta.

So in his final moments, killed by the same person that killed the rest of his kind, he allows himself to feel the grief that he'd previously written off as "LOL Sucks to be them!"

Pretty much the entire rest of his arc is the steady deprogramming of Vegeta, once he's stranded on Earth with no way back into space, disconnected from the toxic ideology that raised him. Having to first figure out how to take his value system he learned from Frieza and apply it to his new circumstances.

But, over time, becoming more and more of an Earthling in his own right. Learning that it's okay, actually, to care about other people. To be emotionally invested in someone besides himself.

That it's okay to live a domestic life on a planet somewhere and be part of a culture, rather than simply defining himself as a conqueror.

That it's okay to not be the strongest in the universe. That he is not a failure if he finds a mountain he cannot climb.

Even finding religion. He uses his final moments before his second death to turn to (ex-)God and ask the fate of his immortal soul.

Vegeta is a diasporic member of a dead race raised in the image of the people that destroyed his home, killed his people, and robbed him of his culture. Slowly unlearning the belief systems of colonization, consumption, and capitalist individualism that defined so much of his life, and instead discovering the beauty of people and life.