#I don't want to force people to give birth

[pekoposting]

This is interesting! Particularly because it's a departure from the usual conclusions that hardcore Pekoyama fans usually make from this evidence. Which is...

Peko's biological parents are the Pekoyama clan

The typical interpretation goes something like this:

The Pekoyama clan is a band of renowned swordfighters. For whatever reason, they get in massive debt to the Kuzuryuu clan. The Kuzuryuu clan force them to repay these debts by taking their young heir, and training her to be a bodyguard for their own heir when he is born. We know the rest of the story.

The evidence for this is as follows (though keep in mind, I did not consider your interpretation when I was formulating this, so the evidence seemed more self-evident originally):

Pekoyama's name in the Japanese is spelt 辺古山 ペコ. Her family name, (辺古山) is spelt normally, in kanji. However, her first name is spelt in katakana, which as far as I can tell is the only of the three Japanese scripts not used to write Japanese names. Also it's literally just the first two phonetic sounds of her surname. Which gives the impression that her surname is real, and her first name is something carelessly made up on the fly because you have to call her something.

The fact that she has a family heirloom. Why would the Kuzuryuu clan know the family of an orphaned baby? As far as I know, people in Japan don't usually attach their family name when they're orphaning a child.

...Yeah, it was primarily based on the premise that out of the two contradictory pieces of information we get about Pekoyama's parents, the one at the end of Chapter 2 (that she was abandoned by them from birth) is the correct one.

Of course... there are still issues with this interpretation. Primarily, that Island Mode dialogue where she says she has memories of her parents being alive. The heirloom is a bit iffy, too. (Perhaps it's something the Kuzuryuu clan also took along with Pekoyama?)

The only excuse I can come up for the parents thing is that it is Pekoyama deliberately lying to make her childhood sound more normal. Because the closer she gets to telling the truth, the more questions Hinata will have, and she doesn't want that. That's not the point she's trying to convey anyways, so she goes with a simple lie to smooth it over so she can talk about her memories

There are issues with your interpretation too, namely that the Kuzuryuu clan risks giving Pekoyama an alternative motive through giving her actual parents, i.e. humanising her and possibly making her consider if there's other ways she can live. As we both know, Pekoyama's Island Mode ending implies that she is only so dedicated to her tool mindset because it's the only way she knows how to live.

Whilst I probably will come around to yours more as I let it sink into my brain, I'm going to be honest, I am still quite attached to the 'Pekoyama was stolen from the Pekoyama clan' interpretation, because I've spent a lot of time thinking about it, and because those hardcore Pekoyama fans have also written about it.

One of my absolute favourite implementations of it is at the end of thewildwilds' already incredible fic [absolute zero.] where it's mentioned that upon taking baby Pekoyama, her parents cursed the Kuzuryuu clan by swearing that their child would ultimately cause the destruction of the clan. That's SO DELICIOUS

As you know, I am very much a fic writer. So much so that my opinion on ships is often determined by easy/fun they are to write. And there is a lot of potential things to explore in this interpretation that I've barely ever seen anyone cover beyond 100 word drabbles.

For example... this means that Pekoyama is the only former RoD who could still have their parents alive. So... how would she cope with that? (I have some answers to that, but they're not precise, and this is getting long enough already.) NO ONE HAS EXPLORED HOW SHE'D INTERACT WITH HER BIO PARENTS AT ALL SOB. I may have to get over my natural reluctance to make OCs for this...

(This still could be explored under your interpretation, it's just that it's harder to pinpoint who her bio parents are, and those parents are less defined.)

In conclusion: what the hell even was this (MY POST NOT YOURS). There are several points I almost certainly forgot. Pekoytama.

Random tidbits about the Pekoyama Dojo

Peko was adopted by the Pekoyama Dojo

Peko reminiscence about her parents taking her to an old amusement park.

Because Peko was abandoned as a baby by her birth parents, it can be deduced all her memories regarding her parents is with her adoptive parents.

The only time she feels like smiling outside her Free Time Event, is when she is at an amusement park.

Because Peko was given the Pekoyama's family heirloom, and the obvious fact she bares the family name, you can infer that Peko's adoptive parents was from the Pekoyama Dojo on the Kuzuryus behalf.

Peko states that her dojo is not exactly a Kendo dojo. The fact that their family heirloom bears the symbol of the Kuzuryu clan mascot, the Pekoyamas were mostly likely a vassel family who served the Kuzuryus (I think the Japanese term is Kashin but don't quote me on that)

Peko's experiences at the Dojo

Just because it would be too much to screenshot, it's strongly implied that everything she did was a form of training. Peko can't take an activity at face value and see everything as a form of training. Examples include: Splitting watermelons, dropping coconuts, watching movies, going into haunted houses.

You could make the argument, because Peko was a 'tool', this was the justification to allow Peko to do normal activities.

Overall, Peko recalls only nice things about the dojo

As always, shout out to Peko's pet finch that probably hated her

Not canon in the slightest, but a moment from the manga

Mentions of Peko's childhood that may or may not be related to the dojo

[xxchromies]

birth forcers like you must be hunted for sport

You say I'm problematic and the way you say it, so fanatic <3

[secretariatess]

.

[justonefeather]

I hate christian holidays being so big in the usa like this shit is a cult + most people use it to excuse their bigotry + for a country supposedly founded on freedom of religion it sure is looked down on to not be christan in some form

[yuujispinkhair]

Tribe leader/Viking Sukuna headcanons

After seeing this fanart, a sweet anon sent me this prompt: "Imagine that you are a simple girl in another tribe who attracted the leader Sukuna who at that moment came to negotiate with the leader of your tribe, he became interested in you and decided to make you his wife and cooperate with your people. So you left with him and began to live with him and give birth to his heirs."

Thank you so much for sending me this! When I saw the art, I was thinking of something along those lines, too! The picture reminded me of the tv show Vikings, so the following headcanons take place in that time.

Pairing: Viking!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Smut + fluff Word Count: 2.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, arranged/forced marriage, virginity loss, blood, breeding, pregnancy, slight lactation kink, having children, miscarriage (Sukuna comforts reader afterwards. He doesn't just want her because of the heirs she can give him), general mentions of violence and human sacrifices. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

There is art now for this fic by the lovely @sweetlandspos! Thank you so much Émilie, for bringing Viking!Sukuna to life! He's so beautiful!

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is feared for his ruthlessness in battle and his strength that seems almost god-like. All the other tribes try to stay on his good side and forge alliances with him instead of giving him a reason to burn down their towns.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who looks so intimidating when he comes to visit your settlement. Tall and broad-shouldered with all those buff muscles on display and the bones of his enemies decorating his clothes.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who you can't take your eyes off when you and the rest of your tribe gather in your leader's throne room and watch the negotiations. He sends shivers down your spine, but not just in a fear-inducing way, if you are honest. He is so enticing. Powerful and intelligent, and so attractive.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is such a beautiful man. His face is too pretty for a warrior. Not even his scars and tribal tattoos can hide his beauty. A smug smirk lifts the corners of his lips, and his voice is calm and confident. He moves gracefully like a big cat, beautiful but deadly. He is the most stunning man you have ever seen, and you hang on every word that falls from his lips as if he carries ancient magic in his voice.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose icy blue eyes scan the crowd slowly, glittering like two precious jewels in the firelight illuminating the crowded room. Your breath catches in your throat when that intense gaze lands on you. You feel like a small animal trapped in the gaze of its hunter. Should you lower your head to show him your respect? Or will he take affront if you dare to look at anything else but him?

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who takes the decision away from you when he smirks at you and laughs softly before he turns his attention back to your leader.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who announces his conditions for a peace treaty in a confident, demanding tone. The voice of a man who is used to getting what he wants. A man who knows he is too powerful to get turned down.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who suddenly points a long tattoed finger at you and speaks the words that will flip your whole world upside down, "And I want her."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes your heart drop with his demand, but all you can do is stare at him in a mix of fear and excitement. A murmur runs through the crowd, and already, several hands are pressing against your back, shoving you towards Sukuna, making you stumble and screech as you are about to fall at his feet.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who catches you before you hit the ground, his muscular arms holding you easily, an amused smirk lighting up his handsome face, light blue eyes glittering in amusement as he drawls teasingly, "Aww, someone's eager to become my little wife, huh?"

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes you sit on his lap that evening when a big feast is held in his honor and to seal the peace treaty with your tribe. You barely dare breathe, full of fear as you sit on his strong, muscled thighs, gasping when one of his large hands wanders under your skirt to squeeze your thigh possessively.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who has two of his men stand guard in front of your door so no one will attack his future wife or maybe to prevent you from sneaking away. But you aren't even sure you want to run from him. Who are you here in your current tribe anyway? Just another orphan who grew up to help on one of the farms. Isn't this new role much more important? To be the bride of Ryomen Sukuna? To be a means that allows your tribe to prosper and ensures peace and trade with Sukuna?

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose large hand has a firm, unrelenting grip on your arm as he leads you to his horse the next morning. But he lets you say goodbye to all your loved ones, taking their blessings and well wishes with you before your future husband helps you onto his horse.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is such a rough man, but whose hands are surprisingly gentle when he lifts you onto the back of his giant horse. He sits behind you, his firm muscles pressing against your back, rippling with every move he makes. His muscular buff arms cage you in, keeping you captive or keeping you safe. You can't tell which one of the two it is.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes a conflict rage in your chest. On the one hand, you are scared of this dangerous big man who has the power to just demand to have you as if you are some cattle. On the other hand, you can't deny that small hidden part of you that feels excited that such a powerful and attractive man desires you enough to want to make you his wife.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes your pulse flutter nervously when you feel his strong arms around you and hear him order his men around with his low, velvety voice, telling them to find a good resting place for the night.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who kisses you roughly on that first night. His large hands that cup your face are calloused, but his lips are warm, and his tongue is soft and so skilled when he pries your mouth open and licks into it. It's nothing like the shy, clumsy kisses you shared with the boys in your settlement. Sukuna is a feared warrior, a powerful tribe leader, someone who people believe is actually the son of a god. And you can feel all that in his kiss. Deep and intense, making your head spin and your body brim with a desire you have never felt before.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who rides with you again the next day and trails teasing kisses down your neck to pass the time during the long ride. You are sure he is fully aware of what he is doing to you. How he makes your heart race and makes a mix of fear and arousal throb in your veins. Especially when he grabs your chin to tilt your face up and capture your lips in a heated, wet kiss, licking unashamedly into your mouth in front of his men, showing everyone that you are his.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who whispers in your ear, "Are you scared of me, my little wife?" and then breaks out in loud, barking laughter when you exhale shakily and tell him, "Only a fool wouldn't be scared of you... but maybe I am also flattered that you picked me, my lord."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who still chuckles while his tongue licks a lazy stripe up the side of your neck, and he huskily tells you, "I am not a lord. I am a god. And I saw a goddess right there in that shabby throne room. I had to take you with me. It was a sign from the gods. You will give me such strong and beautiful children. Together, we can conquer the whole world."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who forces himself to keep his hands off you before your wedding night as a show of respect to the gods, but who lets you feel his desire for you when he hugs you from behind and presses his hardness against you once you have moved into his house.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who has you dressed in the finest garments for your wedding day. A beautiful red dress lined with gorgeous white ermine fur that was specifically made for you. Your neck, wrists, and ears are decorated with glittering gold and precious gemstones.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes you squeal when he swoops you up into his muscular arms and carries you into the ceremony hall, accompanied by the loud cheers of his people. Your hand is shaking when you exchange wedding rings with him, but you stay brave, speaking your vows and taking Sukuna's heavy sword when he offers it to you as his promise to protect you.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who sacrifices several of his enemies to the gods to ask for their blessings for your marriage and your fertility. He looks scary with the pattern painted onto his face with fresh blood. But at the same time, it makes him look feral in a way that makes an unknown heat throb between your legs.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who shares his food and mead with you on the decadent feast held after the wedding ceremony, where you sit on the throne next to his. One of his strong arms stays wrapped around your waist the whole evening, and the deep glances he sends your way make your skin tingle with anticipation.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who takes your virginity that night, making you cry out in pain when his thick cock splits you open for the first time. But his lips silence your cry, and soon you make other noises. Loud moans of pleasure fall from your lips as your new husband moves inside you with deep and sure thrusts that hit a spot inside you that makes you scratch the broad muscles of his back and arch up against Sukuna's huge body. Your cunt throbs around his cock as you find the sweetest and most intense release you ever had.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who afterward pushes two of his long fingers into your used cunt to push his seed back into you, leaning down to kiss you savagely and murmuring in your ear that he wants to see your belly hard and swollen with his heirs.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who paints his clan symbols on your face with a mix of your virginal blood and his cum, telling you that you are his forever and that you are blessed by the gods now too after taking his seed into you.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is so proud when you show the first signs of pregnancy.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who becomes extremely protective and possessive now that you carry his heir. Who worships your body every night, cupping and kissing your swollen breasts, licking at the drops of milk that already spill from them, telling you it tastes like the nectar of the gods.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose large rough hands caress your swollen belly gently, who kisses it, and talks to your unborn child, telling his son, as he predicts, that he will be born under the blessing of the gods. That he will become a great leader and a god himself one day.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is triumphant when your first child is a boy with pink hair and a strong build and loud voice. A future leader just like his father. The first heir of many more to follow.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is feared by everyone but treats his wife and newborn child with a gentleness that surprises you. He asks you to let him hold your baby and carry him in his strong arms. And the way Sukuna looks at your child tells you that he doesn't just see little Yuuji as an heir but as someone who has Sukuna's heart.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose hungry and proud gaze follows you for days until he has you under him again, fucking you with hard, deep thrusts, moaning loudly, and pumping you full of his seed over and over again. "You gave me such a strong heir, my love. I know you'll give me so many more."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who rushes to your side when you have a miscarriage during your second pregnancy. Who hugs you to his broad chest, wipes the sweat and blood off you, and cradles you in his arms.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who kisses your tears away and reassures you when you are scared he will kick you out if you won't give him more heirs.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who shakes his head and tells you, "I mourn our unborn child, but I thank the gods for not taking my beloved wife away from me too. You are more to me than just a vessel that gives birth to my heirs. You are my wife, my companion, the one who the gods sent to me as my soulmate. I love you. Even if we have no more children, I will never take a new wife."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who you see in a new light after the reassurance and love he gave you on that day. And suddenly, you find yourself falling in love with your husband, too. You treat him more tenderly. You caress his soft hair when the two of you cuddle in your bed to keep each other warm. You kiss the tattoos on his face and smile at him, your heart fluttering when Sukuna smiles back at you and pulls you into a slow, tender kiss. You will never forget the happiness in his eyes when you tell him you love him too.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who fucks you thoroughly that night until the two of you are sweating and rolling around on top of the warm furs, kissing and caressing each other needily while he fills you with his hot seed until you are overflowing from it.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is delighted when you give birth to your second child, and that child looks like the perfect mix of the two of you. He grins at you and tells you that this is clearly a child of love, conceived on the night you confessed your love to him.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is actually a caring husband who truly treasures you. Who likes to spend his nights with you wrapped under the warm furs, making slow love while he kisses you deeply, rolling his hips with those slow, languid moves that make you sob his name and come undone so sweetly on his cock. 

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who likes to hold you in his strong arms afterward, with your head resting on his broad chest and your small fingers tracing the tattoos on his chest and abs. He loves to talk to you for hours every night, telling you all about his day, about his current worries and plans, about political things and battle tactics, trusting you with all his secrets.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose love fills you with warmth even on the coldest winter days. Your heart is held securely in his strong hands. And you know that no one will dare lay a hand on you or your children in fear of Sukuna's wrath. His strength and power make you feel safe here in your new home.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who teaches you how to enjoy sex to the fullest. Who teaches you how to ride his cock and his face. Who teaches you how to take from him too. Because he is your husband, and that means he belongs to you just as much as you belong to him.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who trusts you with ruling in his place during his absence. Who declares that anyone who disrespects you will get sacrificed to the gods.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who keeps you on his thick, strong cock all night before he has to leave for one of his various exploration trips or battles, savoring you to the fullest. Making sure to fuck you so good that you will still feel him for days after he set sail.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who pulls you into his arms one last time before he boards the ship, kissing you deep and long. And there is this burning love in his blue gaze when he tells you, "I will do anything in my power to come back to you, my love. I have the gods on my side. But if, for whatever reason, they should decide it is my time to enter Valhalla, then I want you to know that I will wait there until you join the afterlife, too, and I will come find you, no matter where you are."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who luckily doesn't go to Valhalla and always comes back to you with more scars on his gorgeous body but with the same love in his eyes.

AAAHHH I AM IN LOVE WITH HIM!!! This became much longer than I intended, but I really miss the show Vikings, and I love Viking!Sukuna to an insane amount, so it is what it is ;) This was, once again, very self-indulgent, but hopefully, some of my fellow Sukuna lovers will enjoy it too! Thank you so much to the nice anon who sent me that prompt!

Please let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

[wilwheaton]

In 1960, SAG and WGA struck to force management to adapt to the new technology of television. Without that strike and the agreement it birthed, residual use payments would not exist.

My parents stole nearly all of my salary from my entire childhood. My Star Trek residuals were all I had, and they kept me afloat for two decades while I rebuilt my life. I have healthcare and a pension because of my union. The AMPTP billionaires want to take all that security away so they can give CEOs even more grotesque wealth at the expense of the people who make our industry run.

To give some sense of what is at stake: There are actors who star in massively successful, profitable, critically acclaimed shows that are all on streaming services. You see them all the time. They are famous, A-list celebrities. Nearly all of those actors don't earn enough to qualify for health insurance, because the studios forced them to accept a buyout for all their residuals (decade of reuse, at the least) that is less than I earned for one week on TNG. And I was the lowest paid cast member in 1988. They want to do this while studio profits and CEO compensation are at historic highs.

I mean, if not now, when? And I haven't even touched on AI and working conditions.

We must fight for the future of our industry in the face of changing technology, the same way our elders did in 1960. So today, my Spacemom and I went to the place where it started for us, way back when, to do just that.

I see all your support. It means so much. Thank you.

[gloomwitchwrites]

secret baby trope with tf141? 😌😌

Anon! OH. MY. GOOOOOD. I love this. I love this. I love this. Secret baby? Yes, please. I adore this trope. I bow down to you for requesting this. I don't know who you are but I wish that I did. I can absolutely get behind a secret baby trope. I actually read a book recently that was a bit like that and I enjoyed it so so much.

I had an absolute blast putting this one together. Seriously. You totally indulged me here. Thank you!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, stalking, possessive behavior, second chances, pregnancy / unplanned pregnancy, parenthood, reunions, light angst

Word Count: 2.3k

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle relaxes further into the couch. The air around him is slightly smoky.

He brings his vape to his lips and takes a hit. The action is calming, and that’s exactly what he wants. Kyle is rotting, and it feels fucking good.

Between missions, Kyle is always somewhere, but right not there is no reason for him to do anything. He can relax. He can watch reality television, eat himself to sickness, and wank off until his wrist hurts.

It’s bloody fucking brilliant.

Kyle isn’t attached. He has no kids. The only responsibility required of him is the one he has to himself. Which is why he’s splayed out on the couch in nothing but grey sweatpants and his vape. The television is on, and the volume is low. It’s mostly for background noise. Kyle isn’t really paying attention to it.

With a vape in one hand and his phone in the other, Kyle scrolls through his contacts. There are all the usual people there, but there are also a slew of general acquaintances and a long list of people he’s had it off with but never took anything further.

He pauses at one name, and old memories resurface.

They just happen upon him. Kyle doesn’t drag them up from the depths. They linger there, and Kyle remembers all the fun he had with you.

You were just a small fling. A few lengthy but deliciously good fucks that tops most of the sex he’s ever had in his life. There have been times since he last saw you—over a year now—that Kyle has thought about what could have been.

You were sweet. A potential partner. But Kyle didn’t follow through. He would regret it, but things can’t be taken back. There is no turning back the clock to change what has already occurred.

Kyle’s thumb hovers above the screen.

He shouldn’t. He really fucking shouldn’t.

But he does. Because why not?

Switching over apps, Kyle starts scrolling social media. He doesn’t usually give a shit about what’s happening in people’s lives, but he is curious about you. What are you up to? What are you doing? If you’re not attached, maybe he could call you up, rekindle what was once there.

You don’t have him blocked on anything—thank fuck—and Kyle delves into your socials, exploring your life. At first, the small infant in your arms is nothing to him, but then the tiny human keeps reappearing, and Kyle pauses.

Kyle scrolls a bit more. And stops.

Just three—no—four months ago, there are a slew of friends and family congratulating you on the birth of your son.

Your…son.

Kyle thinks back. Does the math in his head.

“Fuck,” he mutters, sitting up, gaze glued on the screen.

He scrolls back, studying every photo where your son is featured. Kyle’s heart slams in his chest. The features Kyle sees are features he sees every time he looks in the mirror.

“Fucking hell,” groans Kyle, the phone nearly slipping from his hands as he slumps back against the couch.

Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you contact him?

The very thought of you not reaching out doesn’t sit well with him. It sits heavy in his stomach.

“Fuck,” says Kyle, switching over to his contacts.

He finds Simon’s number and taps the call button.

It rings on the other end, and Kyle doesn’t think that he’ll answer. But he does.

“Kyle,” comes Simon’s gruff voice.

Kyle sighs. “I need you to track someone down for me.”

John Price

John doesn’t like cutting off contact with people.

He likes to keep in touch, even if it’s just an acquaintance. But things happen, like a fucked phone with no way to retrieve contacts, and the only people he’s able to retrieve are those he sees on a regular basis.

Your number is gone. And John has no way to get it back.

Legally that is. He could try and find you in the system. What information he has is minimal, but then again, the two of you only had a one-night stand. He’s prone to it since he’s never in one place. Always moving around.

John would like to settle down one day, but his work is his life, and it just doesn’t seem possible to have a family and be consistent with them when he’s constantly called away.

He chews it over while sitting in his office. It’s late, and there isn’t anyone else here but him. Late nights like this are calming to him—a time to process away from the events of the day. John has your first name, where you might live, and a general idea of what your number is. But he isn’t certain, and it’s hardly enough to go on.

Sighing, deciding he’d rather find you than not, John turns on his computer. It takes a while to get the classified systems he has access to. No one tracks what he does on here, and no one will think twice if they do happen to look. John runs lots of names and faces through this system.

John waits. Ponders. Enters in different spellings and every possible clue to try and seek you out. With every new search, John begins to lose hope. He might be completely fucked. Completely at a loss.

If this doesn’t work, he might not ever see you again. And for some goddamn reason, that bothers him.

He tries one last time, expecting nothing, only for his heart to drop into his stomach,

“There you are,” he murmurs, leaning forward, gaze sweeping over your passport photo.

Grabbing a piece of paper, John jots down your phone number and current address. He also notes your top place of employment. You might not be there anymore, but that isn’t an issue. He has enough.

John shuts off his computer and grabs his coat. He’ll try to reach out first by phone and go from there.

“You have the wrong number, bud.”

The man’s southern drawl irks John. “You sure?”

“Yeah I’m fucking sure. Quit calling.”

John frowns as the line goes dead. The number on file isn’t recent.

“Fuck,” mutters John, running his hand through his hair.

This is getting him nowhere. The only other option is showing up at your home or place of employment, but he can’t do that unless he’s on scheduled leave. That’s months away.

And each month is fucking agony.

When John finally makes it to your front door, nervousness sets in. This is completely fucking weird. Who the fuck shows up at someone’s door months after a one-night stand? Him apparently.

But fuck it. He’s here.

Either he does this and things go great, or things go to shit and he doesn’t need to worry about it anymore.

John takes a deep breath, and then pounds on the door. He takes a step back, hands in his pockets as he waits. There is a stretch of silence, and then he hears it—the turn of a deadbolt.

The door swings open, and there you are, just as beautiful from when he first saw you. At first, your brow scrunches in confusion, and then your eyes widen.

“John,” you breathe.

He smiles, and then his gaze drops as your hand moves away from the doorknob to land on your stomach. Your belly is round. Protruding. You’re—oh shit.

“Is that—”

“Yours?”

Fuck.

John glances up into your eyes and swallows.

You shift on your feet, one hand resting against the doorframe.

“It is,” you confirm.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon shouldn’t. Really—it’s fucked up. Wrong.

But he does it anyway because there is no fucking way he’s letting you go even if he has to watch from afar.

He’s done a lot of things he isn’t proud of, and losing you is near the top of the list. Not that he blames you for breaking it off. You had every right. Simon is always gone. Always away. And he rarely thought of you when he came home.

Communication can be a difficult thing for him. He knows this, and yet he couldn’t make an effort to do better with you. It wounds him. It does. Like a sharp blade to the gut.

But that is secondary now. Simon has dismissed it.

Sure, you’re not truly his now, but you’ll come back to him. He’ll make sure of it.

In the dark, Simon watches. Before him is a slew of screens and all of them show different angles of your home. Simon also has your phone tapped, and in another window, he can lurk through your messages and emails.

It’s where he first learned you were pregnant.

You know, and haven’t told him. Haven’t reached out in the slightest. Simon has to see all the results and tests come back via your email. He has to log into your medical portal to access specific things which is goddamn frustrating but he needs to know.

You are fucking pregnant. With his child.

It’s growing in your belly.

Even through the camera feed, Simon can see the swell of your stomach. He wants to be there, to stand beside you, and rest his hand against it. He wants to feel his son kick. Because you are carrying his son in your belly. Simon saw the results.

It’s fucking painful watching you like this.

He’s stayed away for a bit. Not engaging.

But you’ve broken it off before, and came back eventually.

Simon just needs an in again. All he has to do is figure it out, and then he can put away these fucking screens and surveillance. He can be by your side and be there when you give birth.

Leaning back in his chair, Simon observes every screen, his palm rubbing against his thigh as he considered his options.

He has to play this right.

He has to.

John "Soap" MacTavish

“Do you think you’ll ever find your woman again?”

Johnny grins behind his pint glass. “If she’s here,” he replies.

The beer is perfectly cold and goes down easily. It’s refreshing since it’s so bloody hot outside.

Johnny didn’t think he’d ever come back to the little seaside town. He came between missions—a way to relax and get away for a bit. With only a few hundred residents, it seemed like the perfect place. What he didn’t expect was to meet a woman that upended his fatigue and made him glow a little brighter.

He learned your name while exploring a local pub. You were a pretty thing. Caught Johnny’s eye immediately. With several beers fueling him, Johnny struck up a conversation, and you were receptive to his charm—melting like butter over fresh toast.

That evening, the two of you jumped from pub to pub, having a bloody good time. It was fucking magical. Afterward, the two of you ventured back to Johnny’s hotel room. But the two of you didn’t have sex. It wasn’t until the next morning that Johnny actually fucked you.

Johnny had presented himself, you slid right into his arms. The hotel bed was well-used. There wasn’t a moment after that Johnny didn’t have his dick inside you. He kept you full and screaming his name for an entire fucking week.

But when that week was up, the two of you parted ways. You gave Johnny your number, and for a couple months, you were consistent in your texts and phone calls. Then it all changed, and you began to contact him less frequently.

Eventually, you didn’t talk to Johnny at all.

He was hurt at first. He tried to reach out. But Johnny didn’t hear a thing—and he left you to it. Maybe someone else arrived into your life. Johnny can respect that even if he doesn’t exactly like it.

It sucked then. And it still pains him a bit now. Johnny liked you when you left—and if he’s being entirely honest with himself—he still fucking likes you.

Maybe you’ll be here. Maybe you won’t.

Kyle is with him this time. A guy’s trip. Price isn’t one for vacations, and Simon has his own shit going on.

“We could try that pub again,” suggests Kyle. “See if she’s there.”

Johnny shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Did she live here?” asks Kyle.

Johnny nods. “Aye. Sure did.”

Kyle bobs his head. “We’ll find her.”

The two of them sit outside a small pub. The air is laced with salt from the ocean, and the sun is out, shining bright. It’s hot, but it’s a beautiful fucking day.

Johnny hums in agreement, bringing his pint glass back to his lips. For a moment, Johnny glances away from Kyle, looking out across the road where people walk along the pavement. He frowns.

Is that?

No. Can’t be.

His focus becomes a tunnel, and all he can see is the woman across the road. It’s you. There is no doubt. He knows that body, that hair and smile. You haven’t changed all that much. Not really.

There is another woman with you—a friend that Johnny met briefly before you and him went off on your own.

But that isn’t what has Johnny’s attention.

You’ve turned, and Johnny can see a swell to your stomach. Your hand cradles it affectionately.

“What is it?” asks Kyle, but his voice is distant.

“That’s her,” murmurs Johnny, his pint glass lowering back to the table.

You don’t see him. You’re chatting with your friend, features animated. The curve in your stomach is fairly large, and a deep twisting in his stomach arises, moving toward his throat.

“Oh fuck,” says Johnny as Kyle shifts to look in the direction Johnny is staring.

“Is that?”

“It fucking is.”

“She’s fucking pregnant.”

Johnny swallows. “Aye.”

He doesn’t want to admit it, but it’s likely the fucking truth. The baby is probably his. No wonder you stopped talking to him. Maybe you thought it best to cut off contact when you found out.

But that doesn’t sit right with him either. If you had told him, Johnny could have been there for you sooner—not finding out like this.

You throw your head back and laugh, playfully hitting your friend’s arm as she says something funny. When you wipe at your face, clearing tears, your gaze shifts, and all the humor leaves your face.

You’re staring right at Johnny.

And he’s staring back.

taglist:

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[katrafiy]

I think about this image a lot. This is an image from the Aurat March (Women's March) in Karachi, Pakistan, on International Women's Day 2018. The women in the picture are Pakistani trans women, aka khwaja siras or hijras; one is a friend of a close friend of mine.

In the eyes of the Pakistani government and anthropologists, they're a "third gender." They're denied access to many resources that are available to cis women. Trans women in Pakistan didn't decide to be third-gendered; cis people force it on them whether they like it or not.

Western anthropologists are keen on seeing non-Western trans women as culturally constructed third genders, "neither male nor female," and often contrast them (a "legitimate" third gender accepted in its culture) with Western trans women (horrific parodies of female stereotypes).

There's a lot of smoke and mirrors and jargon used to obscure the fact that while each culture's trans women are treated as a single culturally constructed identity separate from all other trans women, cis women are treated as a universal category that can just be called "women."

Even though Pakistani aurat and German Frauen and Guatemalan mujer will generally lead extraordinarily different lives due to the differences in culture, they are universally recognized as women.

The transmisogynist will say, "Yes, but we can't ignore the way gender is culturally constructed, and hijras aren't trans women, they're a third gender. Now let's worry less about trans people and more about the rights of women in Burkina Faso."

In other words, to the transmisogynist, all cis women are women, and all trans women are something else.

"But Kat, you're not Indian or Pakistani. You're not a hijra or khwaja sira, why is this so important to you?"

Have you ever heard of the Neapolitan third gender "femminiello"? It's the term my moniker "The Femme in Yellow" is derived from, and yes, I'm Neapolitan. Shut up.

I'm going to tell you a little bit about the femminielli, and I want you to see if any of this sounds familiar. Femminielli are a third gender in Neapolitan culture of people assigned male at birth who have a feminine gender expression.

They are lauded and respected in the local culture, considered to be good omens and bringers of good luck. At festivals you'd bring a femminiello with you to go gambling, and often they would be brought in to give blessings to newborns. Noticing anything familiar yet?

Oh and also they were largely relegated to begging and sex work and were not allowed to be educated and many were homeless and lived in the back alleys of Naples, but you know we don't really like to mention that part because it sounds a lot less romantic and mystical.

And if you're sitting there, asking yourself why a an accurate description of femminiello sounds almost note for note like the same way hijras get described and talked about, then you can start to understand why that picture at the start of this post has so much meaning for me.

And you can also start to understand why I get so frustrated when I see other queer people buy into this fool notion that for some reason the transes from different cultures must never mix.

That friend I mentioned earlier is a white American trans woman. She spent years living in India, and as I recal the story the family she was staying with saw her as a white, foreign hijra and she was asked to use her magic hijra powers to bless the house she was staying in.

So when it comes to various cultural trans identities there are two ways we can look at this. We can look at things from a standpoint of expressed identity, in which case we have to preferentially choose to translate one word for the local word, or to leave it untranslated.

If we translate it, people will say we're artificially imposing an outside category (so long as it's not cis people, that's fine). If we don't, what we're implying, is that this concept doesn't exist in the target language, which suggests that it's fundamentally a different thing

A concrete example is that Serena Nanda in her 1990 and 2000 books, bent over backwards to say that Hijras are categorically NOT trans women. Lots of them are!

And Don Kulick bent over backwards in his 1998 book to say that travesti are categorically NOT trans women, even though some of the ones he cited were then and are now trans women.

The other option, is to look at practice, and talk about a community of practice of people who are AMAB, who wear women's clothing, take women's names, fulfill women's social roles, use women's language and mannerisms, etc WITHIN THEIR OWN CULTURAL CONTEXT.

This community of practice, whatever we want to call it - trans woman, hijra, transfeminine, femminiello, fairy, queen, to name just a few - can then be seen to CLEARLY be trans-national and trans-cultural in a way that is not clearly evident in the other way of looking at things.

And this is important, in my mind, because it is this axis of similarity that is serving as the basis for a growing transnational transgender rights movement, particularly in South Asia. It's why you see pictures like this one taken at the 2018 Aurat March in Karachi, Pakistan.

And it also groups rather than splits, pointing out not only points of continuity in the practices of western trans women and fa'afafines, but also between trans women in South Asia outside the hijra community, and members of the hijra community both trans women and not.

To be blunt, I'm not all that interested in the word trans woman, or the word hijra. I'm not interested in the word femminiello or the word fa'afafine.

I'm interested in the fact that when I visit India, and I meet hijras (or trans women, self-expressed) and I say I'm a trans woman, we suddenly sit together, talk about life, they ask to see American hormones and compare them to Indian hormones.

There is a shared community of practice that creates a bond between us that cis people don't have. That's not to say that we all have the exact same internal sense of self, but for the most part, we belong to the same community of practice based on life histories and behavior.

I think that's something cis people have absolutely missed - largely in an effort to artificially isolate trans women. This practice of arguing about whether a particular "third gender" label = trans women or not, also tends to artificially homogenize trans women as a group.

You see this in Kulick and Nanda, where if you read them, you could be forgiven for thinking all American trans women are white, middle class, middle-aged, and college-educated, who all follow rigid codes of behavior and surgical schedules prescribed by male physicians.

There are trans women who think of themselves as separate from cis women, as literally another kind of thing, there are trans women who think of themselves as coterminous with cis women, there are trans women who think of themselves as anything under the sun you want to imagine.

The problem is that historically, cis people have gone to tremendous lengths to destroy points of continuity in the transgender community (see everything I've cited and more), and particularly this has been an exercise in transmisogyny of grotesque levels.

The question is do you want to talk about culturally different ways of being trans, or do you want to try to create as many neatly-boxed third genders as you can to prop up transphobic theoretical frameworks? To date, people have done the latter. I'm interested in the former.

I guess what I'm really trying to say with all of this is that we're all family y'all.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured V

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Summary: The next day

The day that Alba takes you is the worst day of Alexia's life which says a lot.

For a long time, the worst day of her life was tearing her ACL, the time before that was when her father died but even those moments have been taken over by Alba taking you away from her.

Alexia slept outside your bedroom door that night, adamant that you would open it when you thought everyone was in bed. She didn't have much of a plan after that apart from grabbing you before you noticed her and not letting you go ever again.

But you don't open your door until Alba arrives early the next day.

You shrug off Alexia when she tries to reach for you, whining and crying until Alba picks you up. You're still in yesterday's clothes and no matter how much Alexia begs, you don't even acknowledge that she's speaking to you.

Alba doesn't talk to her either and both sisters are caught in a standoff that forces Olga to pack your bag.

No word is spoken by either you or Alba even as Alexia rants and raves and begs until the front door swings shut behind you.

That's when she really breaks down, crumbling to the floor as she sobs.

Your bedroom door is left open and Alexia can peer inside, clearly seeing where you've destroyed things last night.

Your trains are knocked over. Your ballet pumps are strewn around the room. Your bedsheets and pillows are bundled up in your wardrobe like you slept in there last night rather than your bed.

There was a picture of you and Alexia that lived on your bedside table. You're a newborn in it, lying on Alexia's chest. The labour had been gruelling - thirteen long hours - and Alexia's face is all red. You're red too but completely content. The picture's lived there for as long as Alexia can remember until now.

It lies on the floor, the frame completely broken and unsalvageable. The picture is ruined too, a big rip right down the middle until one half features just Alexia and the other half features you.

"Ale," Olga says softly," I'm...I'm going to call you in sick, okay?"

Alexia shakes her head, wiping away her tears. "No," She insists," I'm going in to train."

"Ale-"

"No."

The radio doesn't get turned on when Alexia drives to her recovery session. She drives in silence, stewing about it all as she pulls into the car park.

It's clear to everyone that she's in a mood which is a little strange seeing as they won the Copa De La Reina last night. No one seems to want to approach.

No one except Mapi, despite Ingrid's hushed warnings.

"So, which one did she choose?"

The words shock Alexia, who nearly drops her shirt. "What?"

Mapi frowns. "Did you not let her choose this time? That's so mean, Ale. Did she at least like the one you got her?"

"Mapi, what are you talking about?"

Mapi rolls her eyes. "The train? You always let y/n choose a new train when we win a trophy. Which one was it this time? Last time I saw her she talked about wanting this fancy red one that you could take the top off to put little people in the cars. Was it stupidly expensive? Is that why you didn't let her choose?"

Alexia clenches her fist at the reminder. She can't think of the last time she bought you a new train. She used to buy one every week. Its all you ever ask for but she can't remember the last one she gave you.

Was it the green one at Christmas or the black one at new years?

No, it can't have been then because she got you a big train set before Jaume was born, wrapped up and placed in the cupboard to give to you the day of Jaume's birth.

But...

Alexia can't remember seeing it in your room this morning.

When recovery is over, she nearly tears the cupboard door off its hinges.

The present is still there, a thick layer of dust covering the pristine packaging and Alexia sobs all over again.

She's in her car before she knows and is banging on Alba's door before she can stop herself.

"Go away!" Her sister snarls.

"Let me in!"

"No! Go away!"

"I want to see her!"

"Fuck off, Alexia! And get lost! You're not coming anywhere near that little girl!"

"She's my daughter! You've kidnapped her! Move!"

Alba looks ready to throw hands again but so is Alexia. She knows that she's got a long way to go but she's got the present from Jaume's birth in the backseat and the train you told Mapi you wanted.

"Kidnapped," Alba scoffs," That's rich. You've been neglecting her! You're lucky I didn't call the police on you!"

"Watch it," Alexia snaps," This is what you wanted, wasn't it? For me to take notice? Job done! I've noticed! Give me Bambi!"

"Over my-"

Alba breaks off as the pitter-patter of little feet sound behind her. She turns, blocking Alexia from your view as you come running towards her.

"Tia! Tia!"

"Hey, bambi. What have you got there?"

"Me and you! I painted it!"

Alba smiles, gently cupping your cheeks as she presses a soft kiss to your forehead. She keeps her body between you and Alexia, desperate to make sure you don't notice.

"It's so beautiful. Why don't you go and put away your paints and then we can put it up on the fridge?"

"Okay."

You run off again and Alba goes to shut the door.

Alexia wedges her foot between it and the frame.

"I'm not leaving," She insists," Not without Bambi."

"Go back to your precious son," Alba hisses," You're not going anywhere near her."

Alexia doesn't exactly have a plan. All she wants is to grab you and take you home. She'll give you your new trains and not let you out of her sight for the rest of your life.

"Alexia Putellas Segura!"

She turns slowly to see her mother walking up the driveway, a face like thunder.

"Mama-"

"No!"

She falls silent.

"Go."

"Alba-"

"Alexia, I will not ask again. Go home to Olga and Jaume. Your presence will do Bambi no good."

Tears water in her eyes. "Mama, I'm trying. I will be better, I promise. Please."

"Alexia." Her mother's voice softens ever so slightly but it's clear she's not going to budge. "This will not be good for Bambi. Go home, reflect and we will sort out a day where you can see her again."

"I want to see her now." Her voice cracks. "Please, Mama, she's only little."

"Go home, Alexia," Eli says," Hold your son but go home and do not come back until you are invited. This is hard on you, yes, but it is much harder on your daughter. Something like this does not happen overnight."

"Mama, I will do anything. Just, please, I need to see her."

"I have already made my decision. You will not be seeing Bambi until I have been told what has happened from her mouth. You will go home and think about your actions. If I don't think your presence will help then you will not see her."

"She's a baby, Mama," Alexia sobs with no shame," I..."

"I know," Eli says," I know, Alexia but we need to start doing what is right for her, not just what is right for you. So, go home while I talk to Bambi and we will see where this goes."

Alexia sniffles and wipes her tears. "I...I have trains for her, in my car..."

"I'll give them to her."

You're sitting in front of a train set when Eli walks in.

She didn't really want to believe it when Alba called this morning, telling her that Alexia had been neglecting you. She hadn't wanted to believe it when Alba said that she had taken you away but seeing Alexia a few minutes ago had made this all clear.

"Do you have room for more trains?"

You look up. "Abuela!"

"Hola, Bambi." She sits down next to you. "I've missed you."

The look on your face is heartbreaking. You look so excited, like you can't quite believe that someone has missed you.

"Really?"

"Of course. I always miss my favourite little girl."

Your face clouds with something that Eli can't quite work out and you say softly," Mami used to call me that."

Eli's heart cracks completely at your words and she has to resist the urge to cry herself. "I hear that you are staying with your tia for a few days."

Alba hovers uncertainly nearby, shifting on her feet even though her eyes are still glued to the windows looking out on the driveway. Eli doesn't have to look to know that Alexia hasn't driven away yet.

She knows that she won't be coming in but leaving and driving back home makes it certain. Eli isn't sure that Alexia wants to admit that just yet.

You nod, looking back down at your trains. The set-up isn't as elaborate as the one you have at home but it's still quite big. You make little chugging noises with your mouth before speaking," Tia Alba says we can go to the beach tomorrow and that I don't have to go to nursery!" Your face goes cloudy again. and you mood drops "I got forgot at nursery yesterday."

Eli hums. "And how did that make you feel?"

Your bottom lip wobbles and Eli doesn't want to push but she needs to know so she can fix this. She wants this to be salvageable. She doesn't want to give Alexia hope that this can be fixed if it can't be. She doesn't want to force you to reconcile if it'll cause more harm than good.

"Mami loves Jaume," You say, face scrunching up," And Miss Olga. They're her family."

Tears spill down your cheeks.

"Your Mami loves you too," Eli promises, feeling her chest go tight," Even if she forgets."

"No, she doesn't," You shake your head," I..." You like around wildly like you're scared. "I...I love Mami but she doesn't love me."

"She does," Eli insists," You are so loved, Bambi. Your Mami is having a bit of a stumble but she does love you."

It's clear that you don't believe her.

"Mami wanted Jaume. She didn't want me."

Eli chokes out a breath. "Who told you that?! Bambi, who said that to you?!"

Your conception was always a difficult subject to breach. Alexia had gotten drunk, slept with someone and woke up with no memory of the experience. She ended up pregnant though, with you.

It wasn't something that they ever told you. All you had ever been told was that you were loved. No one ever wanted to label you as a mistake or unwanted.

It was one of Alexia's deepest shames. She'd always told you that she chose your daddy, that she spent hours and hours choosing the perfect one. She had never wanted to tell you that you were an accident no matter how many times Eli had told her you would find out one day.

To you, you were chosen. Alexia chose to have you, to make you a part of her life. To you, you and Jaume have the same daddy because Alexia chose yours.

Eli should have known this would come out eventually, no matter what Alexia had told her.

More tears flow down your cheeks.

"Was an accident," You sniffle," Didn't mean to listen in. Was meant to be sleeping. Mami was talking to her friends-"

"What did Alexia say, bambi?" Alba's voice is harsh and Eli could never imagine this is what her family would come to.

Two sisters on warring sides and one little girl used as the rope in this tug of war.

"Said that Jaume was planned. Does that mean I wasn't? That I wasn't wanted like him?"

"I'm going to kill her," Alba declares. If she squints, she can just make out Alexia sobbing into her steering wheel. "I'm going to kill her."

"Alba," Eli says," Calm down. Go and make some snacks but do not attack your sister."

"Abuela? Does that mean Mami didn't want me?"

Eli doesn't want to have this conversation. She's never wanted to have this conversation, to have you question your position in this family. She wants to tell you that just because you weren't planned doesn't mean that you weren't wanted. She wants to tell you that you were so wanted by everyone in this room the moment they found out about you.

But, somehow, she doesn't think that will help.

What you want is assurance from Alexia but Eli doesn't trust her eldest daughter with you right now.

It's a horrible thing to admit but it's so easy to see that Alexia adores Jaume. It has always been a little harder to see Alexia's love for you.

Eli doesn't trust Alexia with you in the slightest and she hates that. She hates how splintered her family has become. She can hear Alba pacing in the kitchen and she can make out Alexia still in the driveway, sobbing.

"Your Mami..." She sighs. "I wanted you and your Tia Alba wanted you. You are so loved and so wanted by everyone in the family, Bambi. Do you trust me?"

You nod.

"I'm going to be staying with you and your Tia for a few days and I'm going to make everything better."

"Is Mami and Miss Olga and baby Jaume coming over?"

"Do you want them to?"

"No."

"Then they won't. Your Mami did give me something to give to you, though. They're presents from her."

"Why?"

Eli doesn't want to think about this. She doesn't want to think about why you're even questioning Alexia giving you presents. Every weekend at the end of Alexia's matches, she used to take you to the model train store near your house.

Eli used to be forced to go too and Alexia would let you pick out a new train simply as a present, a gift for being her favourite girl in the entire world.

You were singlehandedly keeping that store in business and the old man that ran it even kept it open late if the match ran over. It used to be your favourite time of the week.

If you're asking her why you're getting presents all of a sudden, Eli doesn't want to think about how long it's been since you must have set foot in that store.

Her voice cracks. "Because you're her favourite girl in the entire world."

She pushes them both towards you.

One of them is covered in wrapping paper so Eli can't tell what it is but she recognises the second one.

It's a red train that you'd been eyeing up since the last time Eli went to the train store with you and your Mami almost a whole year ago. It's big and comes with its own train track and little people.

It's based on those fancy trains that serve afternoon tea and cakes because each of the train cars can have their roofs taken off to place the little people figures inside to enjoy their lunches.

It's stupidly expensive, seven-hundred euros and Eli remembers you telling her that Alexia had promised it to you for your birthday. But your birthday came and went a month ago so to see it now means you didn't get it then.

You don't reach out to tear off the wrapping paper of the first present but you do tentatively touch the front of the box of the train you've been begging for.

More tears then Eli thought possible drops down your cheeks.

"I don't want it," You say eventually," I don't want them, Abuela. I don't!"

"Okay, okay," Eli hushes you softly," I'll take them away, Bambi."

You climb into her lap and sob and Eli wants nothing more than to heal all your pain and stop this but even that sounds too difficult to do. She'd hoped that this was all some big understanding but it's clear that this runs deep, that this isn't something that can be fixed quite so easily.

It's clear that Alba has made the right choice though, to take you away from Alexia and the mess of your home.

Eli had been worried when Alexia had named her as your godmother but it was clearly the right decision. She doesn't want to think about what could have happened if you had been left there any longer.

"Abuela?" You say and the next words out of your mouth are the worst things Eli has ever heard," Do you think Mami would be happier if she didn't have me?"

[xxchromies]

Admittedly the way people talk about motherhood makes me a bit sad. Both in the world at large and on here. It's true that as women we have essentially been treated as incubators and the natural capability of our bodies was/is exploited and used to keep us in line. But I really do think that motherhood, carrying and raising children, is beautiful and something to be appreciated. We literally have the power to create life and men don't. True, not all women can give birth but anyone who can give birth is a woman. And while I capitulate that we used to be treated like incubators in the past, some people use this term to even describe pregnancies that are wanted. And I think it's a bit misogynistic to compare something as cold and machine-like as an incubator to something women are naturally able to do. It feels objectifying.

I feel like a lot of radical feminists talk about pregnancy as if it were a travesty. As if you've become corrupted by an evil force. I know that pregnancy can have a serious impact on a woman's body but sometimes I feel like the way people talk about pregnancy on here is misogynistic towards women who want to be pregnant. I don't think it's really that progressive to talk about something that women's bodies are naturally able to do as if it were some sort of curse. Many of us see it that way because men used to use our reproductive capabilities as a way to control us, and still do to an extent. We can't stoop to their level. It's not inherently a bad thing.

I've also noticed that a lot of societal messaging seems to imply that pregnancy is an inferior state. Both misogynists and radical feminists talk about it as if it means your life is over. That you're nothing more than a mother now. That you've been defeated by the patriarchy. And while I understand that the feminist perspective is different (it's critiquing the misogynist perspective), I've never really seen radical feminists try to empower mothers or talk about how we can change the way society views motherhood. A lot of them seem to think no women should be mothers at all. Motherhood is just going to be a part of our reality. We're living things and it's in our nature to reproduce. It is ultimately a choice but human nature is powerful. Antinatalism is not going to happen, sorry. And I feel like pregnancy is mocked. Women are mocked for things like morning sickness and cravings. Pregnant women often aren't taken seriously because of their "hormones". There's a reason why so many people find m-preg so humorous.

In many ways it does suck to be a mother, but that's because of societal issues. I do believe it's misogynistic to denigrate the concept or pregnancy as a whole. I'll never believe that something women's bodies are naturally able to do cannot coexist with female liberation.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Lookism x Reader: Boyfriend Moments

G/N. Fluffy scenes. Yes, this bitch delulu. Sammy, Vin, Goo, Jake, Ryuhei, Gun. Masterlists

Samuel Seo

"Try this," you offer to Samuel your tea.

That is delicious, by the way. And the way he pulls a face at the milky concoction mildly offends you.

You continue to wave the cup in your boyfriend's face, straw close to being shoved up his nose, drink splashing perilously against the lid.

He gives in. Because your dedication for annoying shit like this knows no bounds.

Steadying your hand and leaning forward, he takes a gulp from your drink. It's actually not bad. Better than he thought but-

"Too sweet," Samuel says, straightening and pushing his glasses back up his nose.

"Suit yourself," you shrug, appeased that at least Sammy has given it a go and you take a sip yourself. Then, with a grin- "It's like we just kissed."

He arches an eyebrow at you pointing at the straw, can't help rolling his eyes even as he chuckles at your silliness.

"Here,"  Samuel leans down again and kisses you. Tasting the tea on your lips except this time it is much much nicer. Delicious even. "Now we've actually kissed."

.

.

Vin Jin

Vin is undeniably cringe, according to Mary. And also a simp, according to-

Everyone, actually.

But he reasons that everyone must be jealous because if they found someone like you, they would also be all over them too.

Much like Vin is.

He's a lot more PG-13 than you expected though, less handsy. Even with his reputation, cool and cocky and honestly a bit of an asshole, Vin loves simply holding your hand, your fingers intertwined with his. Walking down the street and everyone knowing you're together.

Maybe it's a bit childish to like this one simple gesture so much. But he doesn't care. Sometimes he likes to just look at your hand in his, comparing sizes, touching your palm against his, and feeling the softness of your skin.

It doesn't stop there though.

He gives you loud obnoxious smooches on the cheek, rests his chin on your head, forces you to share a seat, squished together with your legs draping over his.

Vin wants you close by all the time. And he used to be annoyed when Mary would call him embarrassing, tell him to get a room. 

Has tried to keep a little distance at first yet continues to be drawn to you like a magnet. In the end, he has stopped caring. Besides, he thinks having you by his side automatically makes him a lot cooler.

.

.

Goo Kim

Goo knows what comes out of his mouth is gold, it’s just a shame that other people don't.

Gun tells him to shut up frequently, Crystal's eyes glaze over as she hums politely, and he knows Kouji tunes him out.

He takes it as a challenge sometimes, to see how long he can keep talking before he makes them awkward and uncomfortable, wasting their time, hoping to drive them insane.

It hasn't happened yet, but he's proud to say he's been close.

"And then what happened?" you ask Goo, leaning forward eagerly to hear the end of his story.

His brows knit together, puzzled. "Huh?"

"You can't stop there. What happened next?!"

Goo blinks. This (or 10 minutes ago) was usually when everyone told him to shut up. "You actually wanna hear the rest of it?"

You give a look to say 'duh' and nod.

Huh. Goo feels himself tearing up, dramatically thumps his hand against his heart and tells you you're the best.

"I know. Now finish the story."

.

.

Jake Kim

Jerry can recite all your key facts. Where you were born, your date of birth, blood type, horoscope.

Jason sometimes corrects him on the MBTI though.

Brad knows your favourite foods and favourite drinks, Lineman your favourite clothes and brands.

Lua knows that you prefer colder weather, although there's nothing like a sunny day to brighten up your mood. Or hiding somewhere warm and cosy when the rain pitter patters outside.

Sinu can recite your's and Jake's anniversary off by heart. The gifts that you have bought him, and what he has bought for you. He also knows what Jake was considering buying for you but decided not to in the end, for one reason or another.

Fact of the matter is, Jake slips you into all his conversations with everyone. It's a bit of a talent, to be honest. Even if the conversation isn't remotely related to you, Jake still finds something to mention that involves you.

It was a headache, at first. Jake derailed discussions and Big Deal meetings with anecdotes and tidbits when you first got together. Over time it became barely noticeable, only off hand comments or throw away remarks here and there.

This worked out well for the crew, because no one had the heart to tell Jake to shut up. How could they when his face lights up, eyes soft and crinkling. and he smiles so sweetly talking about you.

.

.

Ryuhei Kuroda

"Hey," you murmur, kissing Ryuhei on the cheek as his eyes flutter open.

He's looking at you bleary eyed, smile spreading as he comes to. You both sport matching pillowcase wrinkles on your face, and Ryuhei's cowlick is even more outrageous than usual.

"That was good," he says, stretching his hands overhead, elongating his limbs and arching his foot.

"The best nap," you agree.

Intimacy used to mean sex to Ryuhei. All physical.

Now, well it still means that because it is Ryuhei after all. But it also means deep conversations into the night with you. Sharing opinions and thoughts and vulnerability. Having another half (a better half, if you asked him) to be with, share experiences with.

And one of his favourite experiences that he recently discovered, is napping with you.

Ryuhei had expected his favourite experiences to be all manners of lewd and explicit things. But nothing can beat the soft domesticity of him curled around your back, both your breaths starting to deepen as you drift to sleep in his arms and he follows closely behind.

.

.

Gun Park

You wouldn't say Gun is a feeder, but the fact that he cooks and feeds you so well came as a surprise.

"Nutrition is important," he would tell you, prepping in a frilly apron that you bought for him as a joke but wore anyway because why wouldn't he? It's from you.

You also don't understand what role nutrition plays when he prepares the food in cutest ways. Carrots in the shape of flowers, octopus cut sausages, onigiri with faces made from nori.

Tonight, you peer down at your katsu curry, with a bear shaped out of rice lounging in it.

You can't help the burst of laughter, thinking of your boyfriend - the fearful Gun Park, the Shiro Oni, in the kitchen cooking this for you.

"What?" Gun asks, seated across the table, a spoonful halfway to his mouth.

"It's too cute," You grin at the black eyed menace, the guy that was supposed to be all about fighting but has a terribly soft spot for you.

You glance down at the bear again, in an adorably relaxed position with steam rising around it reminiscent of an onsen. It seems almost a shame to eat it. "I can't believe you made this."

Gun gives you a matter of fact answer, "You like it more when it's cute." 

Oh.

The fact he goes to all this effort, just because you like it more, makes him the cutest of all.

[muntitled]

sungchan who’s been such a sweetheart your whole relationship until you decide that you want to break up because you’ve started to notice how absolutely insane the red flags were?? but he NEEDS you, and you need him…you just don’t know it yet. and he’ll do anything to prove that! you out of all people, knows that he’ll always get what he wants.

🎀 anon <33

𝙋𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘿𝙚𝙛𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 | 𝙅𝙪𝙣𝙜 𝙎𝙪𝙣𝙜𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣

- Pairings: Jung Sungchan x Fem!reader

- Warnings: College!au, Established Relationship, Language, Angst, Jealousy, Possessiveness, Obsession, Slight Dark fic, Insecurities, Smut (+18 Minors Dni) Breeding Kink, Slight Dub/con, Daddy Kink, Car sex, Choking, Spitting, Grinding, Degradation Kink

A/N: I really liked this request so so so much. I'm not sure if I did it justice, but this was indeed very fun to write

The very ideology of commitment had always been a foreign concept in his head. Not for any self-righteous reason beyond the fact that Sungchan had just never been ‘that guy’.

For the duration of his college career, Sungchan had been all too comfortable, dedicating his time and effort to becoming the #1 draft pick, this goal being something akin to a holy grail in Sungchan's mind. He would honestly rather die than let anything beyond the court take precedence over his mind.

But now Sungchan is yours.

And your head is thrown back in a genuine guffaw aimed at the sky, as you hang on intently to every word another man is saying.

This is the very first thing Sungchan has had to see exiting the gym, with the rest of his teammates swarming around him.

Instead of waiting in the car, like you usually did, a book open on your lap while Classical music oozed out of your phone speakers, you're entertaining his teammate. Your textbook open as your explanations flow from your lips like a waterfall. Seunghan wears a permanent lopsided grin on his face as he cradles the basketball to his side, bending his tall frame down to you and your textbook.

Although you don't notice Sungchan approaching, Seunghan does. The smirk on his face is absolutely diabolical as he raises a hand robotically and waves, before nodding along to your explanations once again.

Unable to move any further, Sungchan chooses to wait out the interaction along the far wall until Anton and Sohee join him in a flurry of their usual banter.

You laugh at something Seunghan says but your eyes are still trained on your textbook. A thought, ice cold and incredibly vile strikes through Sungchan's brain at the very moment.

Maybe Sungchan just was not smart enough for you.

Perhaps that is why you were giving another boy so much of your precious time.

His frown only deepens with the birth of the vile, uncomfortable revelation. All those times he had droned on and on to you about sports, forcing you to watch highlights of basketball games while his head rested on your lap, raking your fingers aimlessly through his hair.

While he was in heaven, you were apparently in hell.

This illogical jumping to conclusions, seems, to Sungchan as your only logical excuse for entertaining another man so closely.

Sungchan does not bother to hide the grim emotions descending on him like a plague. He only leans his back firmly against the west wall, backpack hanging lazily from his broad shoulders while the rest of his teammates scatter on home. Unbeknownst to Sungchan, his face is lowered, causing a wide shadow to cast over his eyes.

"You're glaring."

He does not offer Sohee any justifiable response, choosing instead, to ignore him as he continues his blatant staring.

“What do you think they're talking about?" He asks instead, the confines of his white and orange letterman jacket feeling far too hot.

"Do you know how scary you look when you do that?" Anton snickers, "Borderline serial killer shit."

"He definitely wants to fuck her," Sungchan continues, locked in on this display in front of him. Your book is cradled to your chest now, and you're looking up at Seunghan with a small, imperceptible smile.

"He wants to fuck her, I can tell-"

"How anyone can manage to pop a boner in the presence of a Psychology textbook is beyond me..." Sohee grumbles, dribbling his ball in between his legs.

"In his own fucked up logic," Anton begins, "Sohee's right." He ignores the bewildered expression of the older boy, choosing to roll his eyes over to Sungchan as he explains, "They're probably just talking about school, like they usually do."

"Nah," Sungchan shakes his head, unconvinced, "They just finished an essay on Freud. She fucking hates Frued. Whatever they're talking about... it's not that." You would not be smiling like that if all you had to talk about was psychology. You enjoyed school, but not that much.

"Your fault for going for someone actually smarter than you."

The snicker in Sohee's tone alludes to the fact that it was somewhat of a joke and meant to be taken as one... but the tightening grip on Sungchan's backpack has Anton glaring daggers at Sohee over Sungchan's bowed head.

"B-But," Sohee injects his voice with optimism, "It's not like you don't already have that on lock."

Anton is quick to jump on to the bandwagon, "Precisely," he says, "Girls date from 100, so if she's already let you consummate the relationship-"

"Just say fuck, Anton for the love of God-" Sohee grumbles,

"-She most likely already sees you as the person she wants to spend the rest of her ride with-"

"Fuck fuck fuck, that's what people do in relationships- they fuck-"

"You're a degenerate." Anton murmurs quietly.

And while they bicker, Sungchan did not have the heart to tell them that, for your sake, he had decided to 'wait' on any intimacy because he was so intent on being the perfect boyfriend.

Your perfect boyfriend.

He had spent an embarrassing chunk of your relationship locking away any urges that arose when your kisses got too heated, refraining from stuffing his hands down your pants when you were grinding a little too heavily in between said make out sessions and stopping himself from absolutely ravaging you whenever you reprimanded him, scolded him or corrected him during your study sessions.

Sex was all Sungchan ever thought about whenever you were in his presence, but evidently, you divulge your attentions elsewhere. You did not need him. The farthest you two had ever gone was Sungchan guiding you to orgasm by the sound of his voice.

How pretty you sounded over the phone line, voice heated with lust and veneered with static as you came all over your fingers in your darkened dorm room, imagining it was his. He had uttered so many 'good girl's , so many fits of praise because it was all true. You were a good girl, and he would fight biblical forces if it meant he could preserve that.

"Nah, fuck that," Sungchan pushes himself off the wall, making his way over to you because now Seunghan has his hand on your arm, carelessly handling what did not belong to him, because regardless of the moral repercussions involved, you were his.

"What're we talking about?" Sungchan cannot forget the way your smile dims ever so slightly upon his arrival. It scribbles itself into his memoey like a traumatizing little etch-a-sketch, making his heart sink in vexation and his abdomen tightening into a knot of perhaps, maybe anger.

"Oh, hey-"

When Sungchan looks down at you, he imagines only his face as the only image reflected in your smiling eyes. You were his just as he was yours, and so it should not come off as a shock to anyone when he slyly throws his arm over your shoulder, pulling you unexpectedly into the heat of his letterman jacket.

Your frame is as solid as concrete, the smile you had once adorned now completely gone.

"Hey," Sungchan whispers to you, but he directs his attention to a smirking Seunghan. Very clearly, all too pleased at having roused his teammate.

"Seunghan just needed clarification on psycodiagnostocs," you explain, somewhat nervously, because Sungchan is splaying tiny pecks against the side of your head while never breaking eye contact with Seunghan "T-the paper we have to do on African Epistemologie-”

“I'm sure Seunghan has a tutor for that.” the arm on your shoulder is fashioned of concrete. You couldn't move out of his grip if you wanted to.

“Don't bore him with the details, babe” Sungchan says, keeping his glare stationed on a grinning Seunghan all while bending down to whisper along your ear, loud enough for Seunghan to hear.

“He still needs to work on that Euro step too-”

“Sungchan.” There is a deep tempest stirring in your tone as you glare up at him, wholly and remarkably unimpressed. Before you could complete your verbal annihilation, Seunghan raises a hand, silencing you effectively.

“I'll let you know how the test goes,” Seunghan says, rousing Sungchan more by completely ignoring him, which, evidently, was the goal. “See you around.”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

To say you were fuming would be a gross understatement. You're absolutely seething as you charge towards the only other vehicle parked in the deserted lot.

Sungchan raises his hand to block away the orange sun, settling on an uneven horizon as he strolls lazily after you, seemingly unfazed by his barbaric display of possessiveness Your hands are shaking as they latch onto the Jeep's handle, and you're barely even able to jump up into the truck before he's grasping at your hips, begrudgingly pulling you up.

“I know how to fucking work a seatbelt-”

Sungchan only snickers, before clicking in the belt, “Watch your tone,” he whispers before motioning to place a kiss on your cheek. You block it, flinching away from him and effectively causing a dark cloud to settle over his once jovial countenance.

“You were unbelievably out of line.” You begin to explain, looking deep into Sungchan's eyes as he leans into the passenger, with his arm on the car roof, effectively caging you in.

“I can't believe you did all that, knowing I need people to tutor!" You exclaim, "Knowing good and damn well that that's more money for me.”

Sungchan's eyes are lazer focused on you as he shrugs.

“You don't need his money.” Sungchan begins, furiously trying to keep his voice even, “You don't need anything from him.”

“I don't need anything from you.”

All is quiet as your words seem to haunt the atmosphere like an archaic apparition come to assert its vengeance on two unsuspecting young lovers. You are unable to know what Sungchan is thinking behind those concrete eyes, all until a smile cracks across his visage. A toothy grin that has him chuckling into the air until he's pulling back and shutting the door.

Sungchan rounds the car, head full of the weight of your words and what they essentially implied.

You did not want anything from him.

Or perhaps, you think you didn't.

Once Sungchan is behind the steering wheel, he does not move. He is only swinging his head sideways after a very agonising beat as he says. “You think I'm stupid?”

Your brows furrow, and your heart kickstarts as Sungchan sits back until his head is resting on leather headrest. His hand is stationed on your thigh, and you're not sure why, but a very stark shiver shoots down your spine, one that is not completely separated from feelings of absolute excitement.

“You don't wanna be seen with your stupid fucking boyfriend, do you?” he's not yelling, in fact his voice is perfectly normal. As gentle as the movements of his hand framing your exposed thigh and nearing the lining of your skirt with dangerous precision.

“Babe-” you shake your head, correcting yourself, “Sungchan, where is this coming from?

“You're ashamed of me,” He says, all to plainly before slotting his large hand underneath your skirt. You exhale shakily as you imperceptibly, almoat shyly open your legs further. Never had your boyfriend admistered any physical intimacy, no matter how anxiously you craved to experience his large hands on hour skin.

Did you need to get him mad to have him claim you?

Your morals and values completely dissolve as you throw your head back, allowing Sungchan's hand to delve deeper under your skirt.

“I see how it is,” he whispers, heavy eyes stationed on his hand under your skirt. The very moment the tips of his fingers brush against your soaked underwear, you're immediately grinding into his hand, hoping your desperation will transfer in your stilted movements. He watches, mesmerized.

“Do I need to be smarter for you?” He asks, mouth salivating at the sight of you grinding so heavily against his fingers. “What do I need to do better? It's almost like-” Sungchan's hand disappears from underneath your skiirt and you nearly whine at the loss of stimulation.

“It's almost like I need to get you pregnant in order to listen to me.” He whispers, seemingly to himself before dragging his gaze to you…

“Is that what you want?”

His eyes are piercing into yours as his hand slowly encircles around your throat. He's bringing you over the center console by a single grip on your esophagus, having your hips straddling his.

All in slow, calculated movements.

The rest of the world disappears as Sungchan attaches his lips to your throat, dragging your hips along the bulge in his sweatpants.

“Is that what you want, baby?” His voice is laden with lust. All his previous emotions spilling out of him in the form of sloppy, wet kisses on the side of your face. “Tell me you want me to cum deep inside you,”

A whine bleeds from your throat, immediately snapping his restraint before he's lifting you to uncover his red, leaking cock. Your eyes widen at the side of it, heart pulsing in your chest when it twitches under your palm.

“Fuck, don't look at me like that,” Sungchan murmurs before crashing his lips onto yours.

You're immediately stroking his cock as the kiss deepens, and Sungchan lifts you again, before guiding himself inside of you.

You're sinking onto his cock with bated breath, and he watches you with a pained, euphoric expression. His cock stretches your walls and you shudder as he forces himself deeper and deeper, mumermiing drunken confessions as he assumes a steady rhythm.

“ I've needed to fuck you for so fucking long, fuck,” he is already delirious as he pushes his hand under your shirt, pawing at your sensitive breast.

“F-Fuck Chan,” your eyes roll to the back of your head when Sungchan acts on an intrusive thought and forces his fingers inside your mouth.

“Open,” he practically growls before hooking his fingers inside your mouth. He drags you closer as he continues to fuck up into you with desperation and urgency. Sungchan slithers his tongue out, dragging it lazily against yours before spitting directly into your mouth, all with his fingers still flattening against your tongue.

“Fuck, you're such a slut,” He whispers breathlessly, causing your cunt to clench unimaginably tighter around his aching cock. “You like that, baby?” He asks, returning his hand to your throat. “You like being my perfect fucking slut-”

“Fuck- Daddy,” the words tumble out of your mouth, not for any other reason beyond it just feeling absolutely positively, right.

They evidently have a large effect on Sungchan because his once confident thrusts stutter into shallow motions, as of he was om the brink of cumming right then and there.

“Fuck- oh fuck, I'm so close.”

You can't even begin to explain to him that you're right there with him because your mind is so utterly consumed with pleasure. Your hands are on his shoulders, nails sinking into his letterman as your eyes go hazy with overstimulation and he watches your expression with that same, fucked out, open-mouthed expression.

“F-Fuck, you're gonna make me cum,” he whispers, “You're gonna make fucking cum inside you, baby-”

He twists your nipple, immediately causing a whine to spill from your hips, your cunt tightening around him again.

“Tell me to cum inside you-” He whispers, cock already twitching in warning, “Tell me now-fuck!”

“Please, please,” He's already spilling inside you as the words try to claw its way, out your throat, and you ascend unto your own orgasm. You scream into the stillness of the car as you push yourself down on Sungchan's stuttering hips, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he murmers broken praises and affirmations.

He tells you you're so pretty.

He tells you youre body is fucking perfect.

He tells you every little thing that has your heart swelling more and more in its cage. All for the boy in front of you.

“Fuck,” he whispers, allowing his thumb to ghost over your nipple while you both breath out, absolutely breathless. “Fuck- I thought I was going to kill him-”

“Why would you wanna do that?” You whisper, “You're such an idiot sometimes, you know that?”

He only nods slolwy, a small grin spreading across his face as he keeps himself still very much inside of you.

“Now go buy me a Plan B, please.”

[rogueddie]

Steve wakes up to a beeping noise- a heart monitor. He struggles to open his eyes, turning to squint around the hospital room. Something about it feels off, though he can’t tell what.

A woman stumbles in, almost spilling her coffee. She looks familiar.

“Hey,” Steve tries, only to end up coughing. His throat is painfully dry.

“Steve!” She exclaims. She hurries over, swapping the coffee for a plastic cup of water. She carefully holds it to his mouth for him to drink. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you awake! I know we can’t talk here but… fuck, man, you really had us scared for a minute. Promise me you won’t do anything like that again!”

“I promise?”

“Oh! Eddie finally woke up too! Just the other week. He keeps asking about you, I should go-”

Steve is only more confused. There’s only one Eddie he knows and that Eddie wouldn’t be caught dead worrying about someone like Steve. Not unless...

“Munson?”

“Duh. Oh! Nancy! I was supposed to- you’re ok, right? I’ll just be a minute!”

“Yeah, sure.”

She throws him a thumbs up, darting out the room, calling for Nancy.

His head throbs. He’s not sure what is going on, what happened… maybe that thing in the Byers house did get him after all? Maybe this is just a dream.

"Ah, Mr Harrington," a nurse greets with a warm smile. "It's good to see you awake. I'm just going to check your vitals and all of that stuff, then we'll need to go over some questions. Does that sound alright?"

"Questions?"

"You've been asleep for a few weeks. We need to make sure that everything up there is ok." She lightly raps her knuckles on the side of her head.

Despite how light she's trying to be, Steve feels a sinking in his stomach.

"Is that possible? What- what could be wrong?"

"Nothing too serious. You're speech is clear and legible, you're conscious and cognitive." She lifts the clipboard off the end of the hospital bed. "You remember your name?"

"Yeah," he says. After a moment, he realizes; "oh! Right, sorry. Steve Harrington."

"Date of birth?"

"April 29th, 1967."

"Do you know what todays date is?"

"Um... how long have I been out? You said a few weeks, right?"

"Almost three weeks, yes."

"Three weeks, so that would make today... December 4th?"

She doesn't respond for a moment. The way she keeps her eyes on the clipboard feels too calculated.

"The year?"

"Uh... 1983?"

She only pauses for a moment, before continuing to ask simple questions about current events, how he's feeling, where he feels any pain or discomfort.

He lies when she asks if he remembers what caused him to be hospitalized. He's not sure what the story Nancy and Byers will give. He can't imagine people... involved, would want the truth out. And he's not willing to risk whatever consequences will come with that.

"I'm going to talk with your doctor," she finally says. "I'll be one minute."

"Wait! What- am I ok?"

"Your doctor will explain everything, don't worry."

Amnesia, his doctor explains.

Three years of his life, gone. They try to reassure him, say that it's still early days and he could completely regain his memory, no problem.

But they don't know. Not really. It's all 'possibly's, and 'maybe's. No guarentee. There's still a chance that he may never remember.

The woman who ran in when he woke up, sat by his bedside and holding his hand in a death grip, doesn't look anymore reassured by their optimism than he is.

"We're... close?" He asks her.

"Yeah," she says, forcing a smile. "Platonic soulmates. It's, um... Robin, by the way. Robin Buckley."

"Do we have that... Mrs Click, you sit behind me, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I did." She looks stunned, almost dazed. "I didn't think you remembered, or even noticed me."

"How could I not? You're hilarious!"

"What? We never-"

"Oh, uh, you're muttering. Behind me. It wasn't exactly, um... quiet."

"Oh my god," she slaps a hand to her mouth, eyes wide. "You heard me talk about you!"

"Yeah, like I said; you're funny."

Luckily, someone else bursts into the room, interrupting whatever epiphany Robin is having.

"Steve!" He yells.

The guy looks like a kid, barely out of middle school. But he rushes to Steve, eyeing him up like he's Steves babysitter.

"Uh, hi?"

"Oh no," is the kids response. He turns to Robin. "How much does he remember?"

"He is right here, you know."

"I think some time in 83?" Robin replies, ignoring him.

"Before or after the whole... uh..." He glances at Steve with suspicion, then pointedly to the door.

"Jesus," Steve mutters, rubbing at the crease between his brows. "Did Nancy and Jonathan tell you, or what?"

"Tell us about... what?"

He rolls his eyes at them, pointing to the kid. "Whatever has short stack paranoid. The thing with the-" he flops one hand around, raised towards the ceiling, "the lights."

"Do you remember anything that happened after that?" The kid quickly asks. "At the hospital, and Will?"

"You mean the Byers kid? Isn't he, like... dead?"

"So you... don't remember me."

"Sorry?"

"It's fine," he lies.

Steve hates how sad the kid sounds. He glances between the two of them, both seemingly wallowing quietly about the situation.

"Which room is Munson in?" He asks, breaking the silence.

"What?" The kid frowns. "Eddie? Why?"

"Which room?"

"He's two doors down to the left," Robin answers. "Why- woah! Don't get up! You're still-"

"I'm fine," Steve gently pushes her away, ignoring both of them trying to plead for him to get back into bed.

Despite the bandages, bruises and sick look to him, Munson somehow looks better than Steve remembers him looking. The longer hair definitely suits him.

"Steve?" He frowns. He tries to sit up but, grimacing, he soon stops. "What the hell are you doing up? You're gonna freak Dustin out."

"Dustin? That the kid?" He asks, grunting as he sits on the edge of his bed.

"What do-" he pauses, expressions slowly twisting with the horror and realization. "Yeah. Yeah, man, Dustin is the kid."

"Right. So... um... we're friends now?"

Eddie winces. "We haven't exactly had time to talk about... that."

"What? It's been years!"

"It's not that simple."

"Are you saying that because it's true or because you don't-"

"Because it's true," Eddie rolls his eyes. "A lot has happened since then, Steve. You fell in love with Wheeler."

"What?" Steve can't hide his confusion. "Nancy?"

"Yes, Nancy. You made sure everyone fucking knew about that."

Steve snorts, having to grab at his side with a wince. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing.

"So you're still easy to rile up?" He asks, smirking.

"Wh- you-" Eddie gasps. He tries to sit up again, grunting when he flops back down. "You were trying to make me jealous?!"

He's looking at Steve with disbelief, but he's also smiling.

"Are we friends now?" Steve asks.

"Yeah, Stevie. We're friends."

"Just friends?"

"I don't... Steve, how bad is your amnesia?"

Steve quickly looks away, wincing. "Not... that bad? I remember that- the first time. This, um... monster shit. Falling out with Tommy. And the doctors are optimistic- they're pretty sure I'm going to remember."

"Alright... maybe it'd be better if we talk then, instead of rushing into it now."

"Jesus," Steve frowns. "I really have missed a lot. When did you get mature?"

"Hey-"

[rie-092]

LITTLE SIBLING.

⟡﹒yandere! older brother x fem! reader

summary : your older brother thinks that your boyfriend wasn't good enough for you.

during his childhood, yohan davis really wanted a little sister. a sweet little sister that he can protect and adore forever. but, that dream was shattered when his dad died and he had already accepted the fact that no matter what happened, he won't be able to have a little sister. because he can't force his mom to remarry just because of his selfish desire after all.

and let's be honest here. with yohan's handsome face and those captivating (e/c) eyes of his. even when he was a child, everyone adored him. and maybe that was the main reason why he became like— this. uh, a spoiled son who was able to get whatever he wanted? aside from little sister, of course.

but then, when he reached the age of 15, his mom got remarried. he was excited, for his mom and for the chance that he can achieve his dream through his new dad. yep, he knew how obsessed he was with having a little sibling. everyone, except his mom (since she thinks that it was a cute thing but clearly it's not) has pointed it out to him. but he didn't care since in his eyes, it was unfair for him that his friends had little siblings that they could adore and spoil.

and yohan fucking celebrated when he got the news of his mom being pregnant a year later. he basically ran to his new dad and hugged him tightly and started to thank him and his ehem, let's forget about the last part. anyway, after that sudden revelation, yohan had started looking for good names that he could give to his younger sibling. he also looked for some cute toys and clothes but let's forget about it.

yohan, during his little sibling's birth stayed at the hospital. he didn't give a fuck about what other people were saying when he did all of his homework at the hospital while waiting for his parents and his new little sibling. and boy, oh, boy. yohan teared up when he saw you for the first time. you were so cute, so precious, so adorable and the most innocent thing on this planet.

“ so, how about you give her a name, son? ”

that was what he was waiting for. with a smile, he kissed your forehead as he told them the name that he had come up with after the 9 months that he spent thinking a name that suits you. (first name), his little sister. don't worry, your big brother will give you everything that you want and he will do everything for you.

expect that this guy will be quite overprotective when it comes to you. don't complain if you aren't able to play with your peers or if he doesn't let you go out and lock you at home. he was just worried! you're too innocent! what if you got kidnapped when he wasn't looking?! oh, and when he realized that you're allergic to (insert food here)? that day, you weren't able to see that thing inside your house again since yohan really threw a fit in front of your parents exclaiming that if they served you that kind of food again, he would run away and he will bring you with him.

but aside from his obsession, overprotectiveness and overbearing personality. yohan was a good older brother for you. he was much better than your classmates' older brothers. when the truth is he just engraved the 'he's the best older brother in the world' idea on your mind during your early childhood so that you will stay with him forever

anyways, much to his disappointment, when you became a teenager you found yourself a boyfriend. and that angers yohan. i mean, why do you think that boy deserves you? gosh, he was the one who raised you and he knew that boy wasn't deserving of you! he did his best to make you dependent on him. he cooked for you, washed your clothes and even made sure that you didn't know how to do housework! do you think that boy will do that for you? yeah, no.

expect that yohan will always roll his eyes when you mention your boyfriend whenever you are with him. this guy shamelessly stalks you when you are on a date, and when he sees that your boyfriend is about to kiss you? he will immediately call you to cut off that dirty romantic atmosphere that disgusting guy created. that guy bought you a gift? don't worry, your brother will give you a more extravagant the next day.

he will do anything to make you see that you made a wrong choice of getting into a relationship with someone. look, he knew that his obsession with his little sister was because his friends and bandmates always pointing out to him. there was some point when they asked him if he romantically saw you but that only disgusts him. the hell are they talking about? why would he romantically see his little sister? do they think that he's a sick freak? that's disgusting.

sure he stalks his little sister, sure he makes her dependent on him, sure he manipulates his younger sister that he's the kindest soul alive, sure there are some points that he commits crime for you. but anyways— he only did that because you were his little sister. his innocent and fragile little sister that he needs to protect!

and when the news about your boyfriend cheating on you reached his ears. he was fucking happy! see? he told you, that guy wasn't good enough for you! oh, his poor little sister. the only thing that he did when he saw you go home crying was to hug and comfort you but of course, while he manipulates you thinking that other guy aside from him and your dad was like that. a fucking freak that will only hurt your feelings.

ah, of course! do you think that he'll forget about that ex-boyfriend of yours? of course, he won't! because yohan, with a 'little talk' made sure that guy won't be able to approach you again. oh? you're worried when he came home bloodied and had a bruise on his cheek? this guy will tell you that your ex suddenly punched him out of nowhere when he talked to him when the truth is he beat that guy half to death. hehehe, and seeing you believed him made him smile widely. ah, it seems like you're really stuck with him from now on. and yohan was willing to sell his soul to a demon just to make sure this would last forever.

“ big brother's doing this for your sake so listen to me, okay? ”

[straylightdream]

dress - They got no idea about me and you

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: lee jihoon x f.reader

↳ Say my name and everything just stops. I don't want you like a best friend. Only bought this dress so you could take it off.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: friends to lovers, secret lovers, non idol au

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: so much angst, emotional jihoon, jealous jihoon, drinking, see smut warnings below

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.7k

𝐚𝐧: inspired by the Taylor swift song of the same name. You can also fill out this form helping me pick songs for the other boys here. The rest or the boys stories will be in my svt m.list.

if you would like to be tagged please fill out this form.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex(mc is on birth control), creampie, breeding kink, body worship, jealous jihoon, oral (both rec), dirty talk

In a crowded bar on the east side wasnt how you planned on spending your Saturday night. Your original plan to stay at Jihoon house went out the window when his roommate Jeonghan brought a girl home unexpectedly. You were going to move your movie night to your place but Seungkwan had other plans. The moment Jihoon showed up Seungkwan forced you to go to the bar with him. Your roommate had this wild idea to try and hook up with Mingyu. Jihoon was pissed when he heard about Seungkwan’s idea. This all stems from the fact none of your friends know about what you and Jihoon do behind closed doors. From the outside people just think Jihoon is your best friend. They don’t know that you crossed the line six months ago. Things all changed one night when you got drunk on wine together and had sex on his living room couch.

Leaning against the wall, he pretended to pay attention to the game of pool that Soonyoung and Seungkwan are playing. His real focus is on you while you stand at the bar drinking your favorite fruity cocktail while Mingyu is clearly flirting with you.

Jihoon is pretty sure he’s loved you since he met you. He thinks back to the first time you met back in college. According to you he found you at your lowest point in your life. Everything in your life was falling apart, you had been cut off from your parents and the boy you gave up everything for was cheating on you. Jihoon found you crying your eyes out at the library. He made it his mission to make sure you were never that sad again. He barely knew you for a week when you crashed at his apartment for two weeks while he helped you find a roommate. He’s the reason you now live with Seungkwan. That was six years ago. Since then things between the two of you have been very different. Now Jihoon can barely keep it hidden how in love with you he is. He wasn’t sure if you felt the same way so he made the decision to take whatever you wanted to give him. He started this friends with benefits because he thought that was all you wanted.

“Jihoon,” Seungkwan yells. He must have been zoning out for a while if Seungkwan noticed. “Can you stop glaring at Mingyu?”

Jihoon rolls his eyes trying to act like he wasn’t staring. “I just zoned out, I wasn't even paying attention to him.”

“I don’t know what this is but I’m going to go order a drink for me and my girl. She’ll be here soon.”

Seungkwan leaned against the pool table. “Ji, when was the last time you got laid? You seem like extra tension right now.” Seungkwan didn’t need to know that he had sex with you last night after you finished your shift at work.

“Boo knock it off,” he rolls his eyes.

“Do you think Mingyu and (YN) will make a good pair?” Seungkwan asked completely oblivious to Jihoon's jealousy.

Jihoon takes a deep breath trying to not snap at his friend. He also doesn’t want to give away what had been going on between you and him.

Before Jihoon can say anything else Soonyoung’s girlfriend walks into the bar with Vernon in tow with her. He’s happy her arrival will distract Seungkwan so he’ll leave him alone.

Walking outside Jihoon takes a moment to get some fresh air. The chilled air feels nice against his warm skin. Leaning against the brick wall he tries to push away all the little negative thoughts that seem to be swimming around his head. He’s wondering if maybe he should stop his arrangement with you. Maybe you could be with Mingyu or someone else.

“You disappeared on me,” you say walking outside. His eyes travel your body admiring the black dress he’s never seen you wear before.

“Sorry,” he sighs. “Shouldn’t you be with Mingyu?”

“No.”

Closing his eyes he leans his back against the brick wall. “You and him would make a good couple.”

“What the fuck?” You have no clue why he’s saying this. You’ve never mentioned anything about having any interest in anyone other than Jihoon. “I don’t want anyone other than you.”

“Maybe someone else would be better for you than me,” he sighs.

Wrapping your arms around your stomach you feel like you want to cry. You aren’t sure why Jihoon is acting like he doesn’t want you anymore. “I don’t want anyone else.”

“Why me?” He looks at you with pain behind his eyes.

“Do you want a goddamn list of all the reasons I only want you?” You say trying not to get upset.

He steps towards you. He feels like an asshole for how this conversation is going. “Why does everything between us just feel like a secret?” You don’t say anything, you just silently stare at him. “I feel like all I ever do is pine for you and wait patiently for my moments alone with you. I feel like my hands are constantly shaking from holding back from being able to touch you.” You still haven’t said anything, you're just silently staring at him as tears start to fall. “Please say something, I’m begging if you say anything.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Fucking anything. I feel like I’m going crazy right now.” He steps away from you.

“I don’t want you just to be my best friend.” You practically yell. He turns back towards you. Without even thinking he backs your body up against the brick wall. He cages you in with his arms. “Jihoon I don’t know what the fuck is going on. But I have never said or done anything that would make you think I could possibly want anyone other than you.”

“Why is it all a secret?” He pleads, he can’t hide how upset he is any longer.

“Because I was fucking scared,” you cry. “I don’t know how to properly love someone anymore. And I was fucking terrified that if everyone knew what was going on, if we broke up or I messed up everyone would blame me.”

His hand rests on your cheek and you flinch not expecting him to touch you. “I would never hurt you,” he whispers.

“I know,” he’s never hurt you and never would. You just weren’t prepared to be touched. “I don’t have a family anymore. You and the boys are my family. I’m scared that I’m going to lose the family I have chosen.”

“Please let me love you. I don’t want any more secrets. I can’t keep doing this whole secret lovers thing.” You don’t say anything, you just lean forward, crashing your lips into his. You tangle your fingers in his long hair pulling him closer to you.

“Maybe we should leave,” he says with his lips ghosting yours.

“I think we should,” you pull away from him.

Taking your hand in yours he leads you back into the bar. “Say a quick goodbye to Mingyu. I'm taking you home.” He lets go of your hand long enough for you to say a quick goodbye before he takes your hand in his and leads you towards the door. Jihoon glaced at the bar to see Seungkwan smiling. He gives Jihoon a knowing nod before he takes you away.

The drive back to your place is filled with silence. Jihoon grips the steering wheel focusing on driving. You are not sure what caused him to get so upset but you know you’re to blame.

Walking into your two bedroom apartment you share with Seungkwan, Jihoon shuts and locks the door. Taking off your shoes you stand in front of him in the black sparkly dress you had bought just for him.

“I’ve never seen you wear that before,” he finally speaks up since you’ve been alone.

“I bought it just for you. I was hoping you would take it off of me,” you push your fingers through your hair. When you agreed to go out with everyone to the bar you made an effort to look cute for Jihoon. You were hoping you would go to the bar for a little while and then return back to your apartment to ravish each other. You even wore a new lingerie set just for him.

“What’s happening here?” He asked, taking his shoes off.

“Jihoon I don’t know. We were fine when we left my apartment and suddenly things feel like they’re falling apart.”

He steps towards you. His hand gently rests on your cheek. “I don’t want things to fall apart, I just want you.”

Closing your eyes you whisper, “you already have me.”

“I want all of you. I don’t want any more secrets.” Leaning forward he rested his nose against yours.

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

“Okay, that means I’m not going to hide what we have anymore,” your lips touch for the first time since this all started tonight. Instant relief washes over you, knowing that things are going to be okay.

Taking his hand in yours you lead him off to your room. Shutting the door he walks up behind you. “Am I still allowed to be the one who takes off your dress?”

“Yes.”

Pushing your hair out of the way he slides the zipper down on your sparkly black dress. He pushed down the thin straps. Gently he leaves a trail of kisses down your spine. There is a pool black sparkly fabric at your feet. Delicate hands run down your sides. Closing your eyes you take in his touch. His fingers toy with the thin straps of your bra.

“I’m you’re to fully undress,” you say.

Unclasping your bra he reaches in front of you massaging your breast. His hands gently tweak your nipples earning a moan from you. “I love you,” whispers before pressing his lips to your shoulder.

You have always questioned why Jihoon chose to love you. You had always been quite guarded and rarely even told your parents you loved them before everything fell apart. But before you even started all this with Jihoon, when you were just friends he would always say he loved you when he would say goodbye.

“You’ve always loved me,” you whispered.

“I have always loved you, but now I’m hopelessly in love with you.” Your body feels warm at the idea of him being so in love with you.

Walking around you, he stands in front of you. He holds your face in both hands. Before he leans in to kiss you.

Pulling back he drops down to his knees and slides your thong down your thighs. Nudging your leg slightly apart. He presses a kiss to your mound. Glancing up at you through his lashes. You learned very early on once you and Jihoon started sleeping together he was very skilled with his tongue. This man easily knew how to make you fall apart with just tongue. His hands hold your thighs.

Fingers tangled in his hair as eats you out like a man starved. He fucks you with his tongue while his nose nudges your sensitive clit over and over again.

“Ji-“ you moan. He doesn’t say anything, he just glances up at you again. “Fuck-“ you whine desperately on the brink of falling apart. His hand grips your ass pulling you closer to him. One more brush of his nose against your clit sends you over the edge. Your eyes roll back in your head as a white hot wave washes over you.

Sitting back he smiles up at you. Wiping your release off his mouth with the back of his hand. Stepping back you sit on the edge of your bed trying to slowly come down from your high.

“I need you naked,” you sigh.

Standing up he does exactly what you asked him to. He pulls off his sweater and slowly unbuckles his belt. He stops as he starts to unbutton his jeans. “Are you enjoying the show?”

You stay silent and just bite your lips staring at him. He pushes his jeans down his strong thighs. You’ll never get over the sight of him naked. His beautiful skin on display and his taunt abs he’s gotten from his hour he’s spent at the gym with Soonyoung. His cock is just as beautiful as the rest of him.

“What do you want to do now?” He asked, walking towards you.

“I want to make you feel good like you just made me good.”

“I’m yours to do anything you want.”

Sitting on your hunches slowly you lick up his length. Slowly you pump the base while licking his flushed head. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he moans. You were never a fan of giving head before you started seeing Jihoon. There was something about going down on him that turned you on. You couldn’t get enough of it now. There are some nights you’ll both just go down on each other and skip having sex.

One hand plays with his balls as you take him in your mouth. Your tongue dragging against the vein that runs underneath.

His hand pull your hair away from your face in a makeshift ponytail.

“Fuck-“ he moans. You glance up at him through your lashes. He looks like he’s on the brink of falling apart. “Baby you have to stop or I’m gonna cum in your mouth,” he gently pulls you off him. “I need to finish inside you.”

He takes your hand helping you up. Crawling onto the bed you lay in the middle spreading your legs. He hovers over you. He pushes into you, earning a gasp.

“You were made for me,” he moans, thrusting slowly.

“You feel so fucking good.”

Hooking your leg over his back, your heel rests just above his butt holding him closer to you. One hand talons into his shoulder while the other tangles in his hair. His nose is resting against yours. His lips are slightly parted as he slowly thrust into you.

“I love you,” you say the three words you often don’t say. If anyone is deserving of those words it’s the boy who has done nothing but made you know what it’s like to be loved.

“Say it again,” he moans.

“I love you Jihoon.” He picks up his pace moaning your name. Pushing on his chest he slows down and pulls his face away from you. “On your back please. I want to ride you.”

With little effort he flips you both over so he’s below you. Resting on your knees you ride him at a quicker speed. Reaching up he takes plays with your breast. Not missing an opportunity to tweak your nipples.

“I’m gonna-“ you whine.

“Are you going to come?” Desperately you nod unable to form words. “Come for me baby.”

Your hands rest on his chest as you pick up your speed. His finger finds your clit. He plays with it helping you fall apart.

“Can I come inside you?” He asks, approaching his own high.

“I need you to fill me up,” you whine.

“I’m gonna fill you up until it’s leaking out of you,” you love when he talks to you like this when he is desperate to come.

His final few thrust are sloppy before he paints your walls white. He shoots rope after rope, he doesn’t think he’s ever came this hard in his life.

You stop moving just enjoying the feeling of him still inside you. He sits up holding you close as he kisses you.

“I love you (YN).”

“I love you too.”

“I need to clean you up. I’m scared we’re gonna get cum on your bed.” You can’t help but smile at the fact he’s now worried about making a mess with his cum. Reaching over on your nightstand he grabs some tissues handing them to you. You crawl off of him and he immediately starts wiping away his cum that is already leaking out of you.

“Let’s shower,” you say.

That night everything changed but you knew it was for the better. You and Jihoon we’re officially together and it didn’t matter who knew.

[oxymorayuri]

❞𝐍𝐨 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬❝

ShortFic

here the storys masterlist. ♡♡♡

✦ Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x Reader ✦ Warnings: cussing/language, use of alcohol, mature content ✦ Spoiler: none

wordcount: 6328

It annoys you that you're starting to develop feelings for Ace. Unlike you, he's just unreliable, messy and has no brains. Sure he's hot as the sun but how can a woman like you be into a guy like him?

! ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ !

ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: Xuan

"Hey gorgeous, watcha doing?" With his stupid big grin, he steals the sun you were enjoying a moment ago. You exhale a little annoyed but don't look up from your book. You calmly flip the page.

"Isn't it obvious?" It comes from your lips. You sound rather bored by his unnecessary question, but it's impossible to ignore the displeased undertone.

"Mmm bitey as always…" Any other man would be offended, would insult you and leave but Ace finds it quite amusing. He finds it rather fun that you're not throwing yourself at his feet.

Your eyes remain on the words in your book. You won't grant Ace the satisfaction of giving him a single glance. You would only be forced to look at his sly smile and his splendid torso. Gross.

"Okay, let me see what you're reading?" Ace's hand reaches for your book and now he is the one flipping through it. You are a little perplexed, your hands still in the air as if you had the book in your hands, but the confusion quickly fades and you stand up, annoyed.

You want to take the book away from him but all your efforts are in vain because he skillfully keeps you at a distance. You accept your defeat and cross your arms in front of your barely dressed chest.

You just wanted to sunbathe a little before you drop anchor ashore, but Ace has to annoy you again.

Your eyes rest on his utterly beautiful lips. You despise yourself for your thoughts while he reads a few lines from your book, but you listen to him intently and after each sentence you have to laugh a little at his comments even though you roll your eyes. He looks pretty hot as he tries to analyze your book... with a strained expression, he thinks about those things he read.

"…That's why Cunt describes the awakening, or rather: the awakening, of reason as a second birth…." he quietly mumbles the rest to himself "…a beginner who is able to begin for himself….????" He frowns very hard and gestures at the book.

"Who the hell understands that!" You put one hand on your hip and snatch the book from him, with a puff of annoyance.

"First of all, I understand it and secondly, it's pronounced Kant and not Cunt!" - "Yea sounds the same…"

He seems confused but doesn't quite understand that he has just named one of your favorite philosophers a cunt. You roll your eyes again, you've done that so many times now, that you should be getting dizzy.

Arrogantly, you walk past him and toss your hair over your shoulder. Ace's confusion quickly fades as he inhales your sweet, floral scent, which has a pinch of salt from the fresh ocean breeze.

"I'll soften you up, y/n." He calls after you and without you turning to face him, you flash him your middle finger.

Once in the kitchen, you made yourself a drink to calm your nerves. You know that you're a pretty deep woman, but you've experienced several times that men aren't interested in woman like you.

As soon as someone realizes how smart or intellectual you are, they simply turn their back on you. You are sick and tired of people only liking you for your appearance but not your inner self. Why is that? Is it too exhausting for them? Are they too stupid?

You exhale in frustration and throw a straw into your drink. This is the very reason why you are not happy, that you like Ace. He's not exactly the brightest candle on the cake, but he has that special spark, that makes you want to keep your eyes on him. What if he just wants to get his hands on you and then throws you away like the others?

"You're groaning a lot again, little lass…" You flinch as if lightning struck you and you slowly turn around, only to see Marco drinking his coffee and browsing through the newspaper without looking at you.

"Gosh Marco… Tell me you're here, jeez!" You put your hand on your chest while leaning against a wooden plank.

The man looks up at you from his newspaper with an raised eyebrow.

"I was here first." He rustles the paper briefly to get it back into shape and turns his attention back to the latest headlines.

"Besides, how can you be so blind and not notice me? It's not like I'm hiding here…" Mumbles the commander of the first division. You stop as you sip your drink.

He's right. He's obviously sitting at the table. You should have seen him when you came in, but you seem to be too absorbed in your own thoughts.

"Whatever, sorry."

You wave him off as you walk back out the door.

The sun greets you directly and you notice that the deck is a little busier. Apparently we'll be docking ashore soon. You're walking across the deck towards the railing when someone calls out to you.

"Hey y/n you should start getting ready, we'll be in Mocktown in 10 minutes." Says Jozu, who is hauling in the sail with a few shipmen.

"Thanks boss!" You call out to your commander.

You could already see it in the distance, the island of Jaya. You quickly made your way to your private cabin. Of course you don't want to go ashore completely in a bikini, even if the weather is good, but Mocktown is still a criminal city and you have no desire to be seen as a cheap prostitute.

You quickly put on a short pleated skirt, attach your gun holster to your thigh and for a moment you think about whether you should just leave your bikini on or put on a shirt. You shrug your shoulders and think to yourself, why not?

Even if some idiots whistle after you, you'll always be at the safest place in the world with your crew members. After all, you're one of the Whitebeard pirates.

Just before you were about to go ashore with Whitey, you stop on your heels.

You watch as Ace is already on land, in the company of a few lightly dressed girls. You can see how much he enjoys being wooed by the beautiful women. He's such a show off. You think to yourself as you roll your eyes.

"Well well, where are your eyes going again, sweetie." It wasn't a question... Whitey knows exactly who you're watching as she stands next to you at the railing. She rests one elbow on the railing and puts her chin in one hand.

"Just look at him… The way he flaunts himself in front of those chicks and acts like a clown... bleurgh..." Not in a million years would you admit that the show Ace gives these women is fucking dope. He plays with his devil fruit power like a fire eater, juggling fireballs, surrounding himself with flames and giving the ladies a little show.

It clearly annoys you and somehow you don't like it, that the ladies are allowed to admire Ace so obviously.

You don't think twice and start to act. You point one finger in Ace's direction and move your index finger in small circular movements.

Behind Ace, who is still playing with his fire, the water on the shore rises without anyone noticing. When the water is high enough, you pull your finger slightly to the right and all the water falls on Ace and extinguishes him.

Steam rises from Ace as he stands in front of the women, drenched in water. He tries to shake some of the water off him, which makes you laugh.

You quickly leave the ship with your friend and together you go to your troop of the third division.

Whitey hooks her arm into yours and comes a little closer to your ear so no one can hear her words.

"You jealous, beastly bitch…" You give her a humming laugh. You may be jealous, but what does it matter? That crush will soon fade away anyway.

While you and Whitey ran a few errands for the whole crew, Jozu waited for you and watched who went in and out of the store. Two beautiful women like you need to be protected in a shady place like this. It's not that you're weak, it's more like a rule.

You came out of the store with a lot of bags. Jozu's eyes widened as he looked over the bulging shopping bags.

"What have you bought again? Do we really need all this?" He questioned but also grabbed all the purchases to carry them for you.

You look up at the tall man with a raised eyebrow.

"Well listen Jozu. You're lucky we do this shopping, if we didn't, we could wipe our asses with meat because food is all YOU think about!" You boldly point your finger at your commander, who shrinks back a little with beads of sweat on his face.

A nervous laugh escapes his lips and he apologizes quietly.

"Save it boss. At least we can decide what quality the paper is. The last person who was responsible for this basically bought sandpaper!" You complain with your arms crossed as you walk down the street. The commander and Whitey laugh at your little tantrum, but your walk is suddenly interrupted when a small child falls in front of you and different items fall from his arms.

Bread and fruit rolled across the ground and to your feet. The boy hastily jumped up and picked up the food. You didn't hesitate and went straight to the ground to help the child. You immediately notice how anxiously the child looks around and seems to want to get away very quickly.

"Hey are you okay kiddo?" You ask carefully with so much care in your voice, which is rarely heard from you. You are known for being quick and merciless, but with children you become a big sis.

The boy, no more than 8 years old, looked up at you with fear in his eyes when he saw the Jolly Roger on your skirt. Again he dropped his food, fell to the ground and frantically scrambled backwards. Meanwhile, you can hear an angry mob in the distance. You suspect the boy has stolen the food by the look of him.

No shoes, torn clothes and a dirty face. The sight makes you sad; it reminds you of yourself. You were just like him before Whitebeard took you in.

You stand protectively in front of the boy and Jozu and Whitey also stand around the boy so that he is protected from all sides.

You keep your hand ready to draw your revolver in case of need. The angry people shout and demand that you hand the boy over, but you're definitely not going to do that. The little boy didn't even steal much and from the looks of it, the food seemed more like scraps that the stores threw in the trash.

You click your tongue. You can't believe they get so angry when it's just a few pathetic scraps. You lose your patience and in the blink of an eye you've already shot all the angry people in front of their feet. The people were visibly frightened by your speed and people around you started whispering.

"Oh my god it's the Whitebeard pirates!" - "Look! Jozu, the commander of the third devision…" - "And isn't that the right hand; the Revolver?"

By Revolver, they mean you. That's your nickname, but only for the rest of the world. In fact, you have to thank the Marines for that cool nickname. They didn't know your real name because you were just a teenager living on the street, you were born without a name.

Back then you were already pretty good with a revolver, it helped you keep yourself afloat but it was a dirty life. You quickly became known to the Marines and had your own wanted poster with the name 'Revolver'.

Then one day you came across Whitebeard and you set your mind on robbing him... You knew who he was but you were ignorant and thought you were faster than him but you were definitely no match for Whitebeard... You could count yourself lucky because he saw potential in you and asked you to join his crew.

Whitebeard was also the one who gave you your name and since then you see it as your duty to make him proud as a daughter.

You suddenly heard a man's voice calling from above and your gaze went up to the roofs.

"Hey, what's with all the ruckus?" The sun blinds you a little and with squinted eyes you could make out Ace's silhouette. Ace landed in front of you with a wave of fire and the people froze, no longer looking angry but more like they were shitting their pants. One of them took to his legs in his hands and screamed as he ran away.

"Nope, the commander and the revolver are already a big deal, but you can't survive Ace's devastating fire!" Ace just laughed like a fool and held his stomach as he watched the wimps make a run for their lives.

Your attention was on the boy who threw himself crying into your arms. You stroked his head and Jozu and Whitey picked up the food again.

"Hm, unfortunately the food is already pretty dirty… you can't eat that." Whitey whispered to Jozu.

When you notice a shadow above you, you look up at Ace, who was looking at the boy with a serious face. The look surprised you quite a bit, There is no trace of his usually playful expression that Ace always has.

He crouches down to you two and reaches into his pocket to pull out a bag.

"Hey little guy, do you live alone?" The little boy sniffled heavily before answering him.

"No, I live with my mother and two brothers..." - "Heyyyy, I have two brothers too!" The boy turned around. The fact that Ace was talking to him seemed to calm him down a little. No wonder, Ace had once again made a unique appearance and looked like a cool superhero. You watch Ace interact with the boy.

"Really?" - "Yeah, I'm the oldest of the three of us!" The boy wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes.

"I'm also the oldest of us…" - "Yeah, that's what I thought… You just wanted to look after your family, didn't you?" Ace said as he looked at the food. The tears rolled down his dirty cheeks again as the boy nodded in agreement.

"You know what? This should be enough for now... buy plenty of food with it and make sure no one catches you with that much money!" Ace placed a sack full of money in the boy's hand. The weight caused the boy's slender hand to drop a little and his eyes widened with tears.

"Are you serious?" Ace just smiled at him with a nod and patted him on the head. He straightened up again and your eyes went up to him, mesmerized by his kindness. He gave him quite a lot of money and once again you found another reason to like Ace. The way he treated the child warms your heart, but inside you curse yourself...

When you arrived at the pub, you took a seat in a corner, where a few others from your division were already sitting and the waiters brought you your drinks.

Ace, on the other hand, begged and pleaded with the owner of the bar to let him pay later, but the owner knows the area and doesn't trust anyone to pay their debts.

You could no longer stand to watch your second commander beg a measly bartender and with an annoyed groan you made your way over to Ace.

"What do you want Ace." You say coolly, not even looking at him. Ace quickly realizes what you're up to and his sad face turns to joy.

"Food and booze!" He puts his hands together as if worshipping you. You somehow like that he makes himself small and a tiny smile appears on your face.

"Let the man order what he wants, I'll pay for it." - "Awww y/n, you got something good with me!" You raise an eyebrow as you look into his wide grin. He's pretty close to you and you draw in your breath inaudibly as your heart threatens to explode but you don't let it show on the outside.

Before your face turns completely red, you turn around and go back to your seat.

How you missed just sitting in one of those shabby pubs, laughing with your comrades while prying ears tried to listen to the stories you could tell.

But today it's all about fun and relaxing, so there's nothing important for the shady characters around to catch. Anyway, you wouldn't be stupid enough to discuss important things in public. Maybe their eyes are only on you because they are curious or even tense.

With every sip of your drink, the desire to mess with one of the dark figures increases. You're in the mood for a bar fight, because the last few weeks have been pretty quiet.

You were undercover in Alabasta for a long time and two weeks ago your crew picked you up again. You're glad to be out of there. All that sand and the dry air has damaged your skin and you've really missed life on the Moby Dick.

You realized that a lot had changed during your absence, because suddenly there was a new commander. The commander of the second division to be precise. Jozu had informed you about the latest events from time to time, but you hadn't expected Ace.

"Hey doll, I've never seen you here before…" A halfway attractive guy blabbered at you from the side while swaying and leaning onto your table.

Your eyes shift to the side without moving your head. That guy reeks of alcohol... Brave of him to talk to you, but maybe this could be the entertainment you've been looking for?

Your lips are curled in to a malicious smile. You look up at him with your dreamy eyes.

"What's up, big boy?" you wink at him in a seductive voice. You can probably get a few drinks out of him while thinking about how much money you've already spent, since Ace drinks like a hangover is just a rumor... If the drunk refuses, you can always blow a bullet through his head and be done with him.

It was easier than you thought to wrap the rascal around your fingers and he bought not only you a drink but also the others! You almost felt sorry for him when you pulled his wallet out of his coat but well… you're a thief and a pirate. It's his own fault because he couldn't take his eyes off you. It was just too easy.

"Ohhh y/n that was really nasty again. The poor guy really thought you fancied him."

You answer your commander with a little dirty laugh. Unconcerned, you shrug your shoulders and sip your newly snatched drink, paid with the money you stole from the guy whose name you don't even remember.

"'Aww come on… it's funny. The 'poor' guy, as you call him, will arrive at the hotel, go to the room and meet whoever the hell is there!" you laugh diabolically until tears gather in your eyes. You're not the only one laughing… the others are laughing too and even Jozu has to admit to himself that it's hilarious.

You've done this a couple of times and every time you've proved how dick driven guys can be...

You really played with that guy's mind when you flirted with him. Little random touches and your laughter sounded so sincere as he told his stories... But in the end, guys usually want more than just to sit in a pub with you, so you always come up with something new.

On the way to the pub you saw a hostel… So you wrote down that exact hostel and a room number on a piece of paper. You told him that you would meet him there later at 8 pm because you still wanted to have some fun with your crew and the idiot believed you.

Whitey started to laugh, she seemed to be imagining the whole thing.

"I wonder who he'll run into in that room?" You all burst out laughing. Too bad you won't find out.

The evening went pretty well and you have to admit that Ace is a pretty cool guy. He was one of the few who raised the mood and you kept catching each other sneaking glances.

The table gradually emptied until only Jozu, Whitey, Ace and you were left. Jozu told you the story how Ace wanted to kill Whitebeard at the beginning. The stories made you laugh like crazy. You were already stupid, but killing Whitebeard? That's crazy.

You caught Ace blushing a little and scratching his head in shame while Jozu was talking, but he let Jozu talk about his stupid actions. Because of his sweet expressions, your laughter slowly died down as you looked up at him. Over time, your seats had changed so that you were sitting between Whitey and Ace and you press your elbow into his side.

"Oh don't make such a face Ace. I think that makes you really likeable!" Like the buddy you are, you raise your drink to him and symbolize that you want to clink glasses with him.

Ace froze for a moment because of you. He wasn't used to you beeing like this but he actually likes this side of you. He returns your grin and clinks glasses with you.

Usually you're not that bitchy. You get along with everyone. Ace is the only one you were so distant with from the start, and not just because he swept you off your feet. It sounds shallow, but from the first moment you saw him, you felt a spark inside you. A slight tickle in your chest.

The real reason for your cold manner is rather because he was given the position of commander of the second division. You worked really hard for the position and were one of the few candidates, but suddenly he comes along aaaand gets the job. You didn't even know that Ace was the one when he stood in front of you. It was only later that Jozu told you that he was the one who got the job and the spark in you shattered like a mirror.

But you have to admit that Ace is still doing a good job. He's actually pretty strong. You remember how some wannabe pirates tried to attack you, but Ace quickly wiped them out by setting their ship on fire. It was kind of beautiful… this burning ship in the middle of the ocean…

"Hey girl what are you thinking about?" Whitey nudges you while you're lost in thoughts holding your chin in your hand.

"Ace…" you babble, responding directly to her question but in a rather absent manner. All of you react immediately to your answer…

Whitey looks at you with a raised eyebrow while Ace freezes as he drinks. You quickly realize that you've somehow admitted that you were thinking about Ace. Oh dear, you probably had a little too much to drink… You straighten up and clear your throat.

"…Ace… tell me… where are you from?" You try to rock the boat, even though you think it's in vain, but luckily for you, the dark haired man answers you and joins in ignoring what you just said. The mood is a little awkward, but from the outside you don't allow to show any signs of embarrassment… On the inside, however, you're ripping the hair from your head in humiliation.

"Oh dear, look at the clock, it's almost 8pm… I think I'd better get back to the Moby before that guy comes back after he finds out I'm not staying at that hostel." A little slyly, you laugh into your hand as you stand up.

"I should go with you…" Ace gets right up and wants to follow you "…you know, in case you run into him and need some firepower." You look back over your shoulder at him and grin as he forms a finger gun with his hand and shoots little balls of fire.

"Do what you gotta do Firefist…" You voiced his name a little sexier than you intended, but you're so drunk right now that you don't give a fuck.

As you walked side by side through the dark alleys, you had the feeling that you didn't want the evening to end. You are alone with Ace. No one would tease you for it, seeing how well you get along with him all of a sudden…

"Hey Ace… Wanna go flick some rocks on the waterside?" He looks at you a bit surprised, while you continue to look ahead.

"Yeah sure, sounds fun!"

And so it came that the two of you were flicking stones over the water's surface a little away from the city. You made it a competition to see how many times you could bounce the stone on the water and you expected nothing less than Ace to have a good hand.

You watch him as he skillfully swings out from the hip to throw the pebble. His muscles twitched slightly as he released the tension in his body. It's a good thing he runs around without a shirt…

As you both watch the stone splash across the surface, Ace breaks the silence.

"Listen y/n, I know you were supposed to get the commander's spot and I think you would have pretty much rocked the position…" You perk up at his words…

I would have got the position? You've never heard that before. Ace had to grin a little when he saw your questioning face.

"Yes, Edward told me that he wanted to leave the second division to you… But in the end he decided against it." You both took a seat on the beach and you looked thoughtfully at the open sea.

What made him choose Ace as commander and not me? What does he have, that I don't?

Ace finally gets a chance to look at your face in peace. You look so harmless and gentle as you gaze out to the sea. Your eyes literally shine due to the moon's reflection in the water.

"Do you want to know why?" You turn your head and look directly into his black eyes.

"Sure…" you answer a little absently as you look repeatedly at his lips. Ace leaned back, propped himself up on his elbows and looked up at the starry sky.

"He told me a lot about you, how he took you in and how he views you. He treats us all like his children, but he once said to me that if he had a daughter, she would definitely be like you…" You pull your legs towards you and hide your smile. You know he treats you a little differently from the others, that's definitely no secret.

Even though you were thirteen when he took you in, he was the parent you've always longed for. He raised you and taught you your values. He has a great influence on you…

Even though these words flatter you, they don't satisfy you. You lean back and cross your arms behind your head.

"Well, if I mean that much to him, he should name me commander of the first division!" You say cheekily, but more in a funny way. Ace bursts out laughing and lies on his side to look at you.

"I don't know why either… I think you're super strong…" His praise is like music to your ears and it makes you even happier that he doesn't stop.

"I've heard the name Revolver a few times, but your wanted poster didn't reveal much about your appearance… There were stories told around the taverns… about the legendary Revolver shooting faster than his shadow and being quick as lightning." You start to laugh.

"Sounds like a cowboy." Ace looks down at himself, smirking, and you stop laughing when you notice him taking off his hat.

"The only thing missing is the hat…" he whispers to you as he puts his hat on your head. For a moment, you find yourselves trapped in the endless silence. You have already blocked out the sound of the waves and the only thing you can hear is Ace's breathing.

You think you've never looked into someone's eyes for so long before and if you're honest, you don't intend to look away. You catch your breath as Ace brushes a strand of hair out of your face and as a response to his warmth, you slightly open your mouth.

"The first time I saw you on the Moby Dick, talking to Whitebeard, I knew you were the special daughter, but I would never have guessed you were also the Revolver." - "Ah yes?" You ask him a little provocatively, meanwhile you've also rolled onto your side so that you're both facing each other with your upper bodies.

Ace is giving you a hard time, as he absently goes with his teeth over his lips, while looking down to gather his words.

"I actually thought the legendary Revolver was a guy who could be a good mate." His eyes glance past you as he grins a little sheepishly.

"Oh are you disappointed that I'm not a guy?" - "Quite the opposite…" He carefully moves his hand over the sand until he touches your fingers like it's just pure coincidence. You don't quite react to his touch, you're more interested in what he says next.

"You're also not from bad parents, Firefist…" The heated atmosphere between you is hard to ignore. Ace finally dares to lean down towards you and you can already see what's coming. You place a finger on his lips and gently press him back.

"But I don't have time for playing games with boys…" Your words escape your lips in a whisper as you search his eyes for a reaction.

"I'm not a boy y/n, I'm a man." He couldn't have said it better. His words trigger feelings in you that you desperately want to explore and lightly you support yourself to rest your lips on his.

The kiss is so gentle and innocent, as if your lips have to get used to the incredible feeling. The fire that Ace ignites in you is a thousand times stronger than anything you've ever felt before and yet your lips barely touched.

Your chest expands with excitement as Ace increases the pressure on your lips and grabs the back of your neck with one hand. You lean back slightly and enjoy the feeling of his hold.

"Ace?" You break the kiss and speak softly against his lips.

"I don't want to share a man. I want you all to myself, you understand?" You know that Ace is a womanizer and you have the feeling that he could break your heart… no matter how much you enjoy this… you're still crew members.

"I'd be crazy if I didn't take Whitebeard's favorite seriously…" Ace's words on your lips make everything in your stomach twist and somewhat out of control, you lean against him. You want to feel his fire.

You don't hesitate for long and your lips quickly meet again. This time neither of you takes the time because this rising feeling is so strong that you both have to let it out.

Ace's other hand wanders along your side while still holding the back of your neck. The tingling sensation gathers directly in your lower middle and you throw your arms around his neck, causing Ace to fall backwards a little. Eagerly, you explore his upper body with your fine fingers and go up and down his muscular frame.

While Ace gains access into your mouth, he pulls you by your arm onto his lap so that you sit on him without your lips parting once.

You begin to feel like you're craving another body for the very first time and slightly out of breath, you pull away from his lips.

You look down at Ace as he stares up at you with hungry eyes. His gaze is already so fucking hot and you long for more reactions in his face.

Your hand goes lightly to your back to undo the bow of your bikini but Ace stops you.

"Let me touch you y/n…" His voice is deeper than usual and there's something so playful about it that you can't help but surrender to him completely.

Ace's hands wander along your side until his hands are on your breasts. You've been used to the cool air for a long time, but it's Ace's hands that gives you goose bumps as they brush against your bare skin. Your nipples harden as Ace brushes your bikini top aside.

For a moment, he enjoys your womanly curves and the way the moon glistens on your skin.

"You're so fucking hot…" Ace suddenly comes up to you and pulls you into an intense French kiss. You rest your hands on his shoulders and moan slightly as he places skillful kisses on your neck. His hands rest on your hips only to push you back and forth on his lap with circular movements to relieve his arousal.

Ace knows exactly the right moves to get you going and caresses one of your nipples with his tongue while lightly pinching and pulling the other.

These overwhelming sensations make you laugh like a dirty whore as you start to move your hips to feel his erection against your wet panties. You are happier than ever that you are wearing a skirt today. But you don't want to have a dry fuck as you are far too wet for that. You want to feel Ace's dick sliding inside you…

You push Ace backwards and force him to lie down while you undo the belt of Ace's pants with your free hand.

"So we're about to get down to business, huh?" he grins dirtily at you as he crosses his arms behind his head. You run your tongue over your teeth and return his grin.

"We'll have plenty of time to explore each other thoroughly, darling." You wink at him and his breathing quickens a little as you grab his member to get it out of his pants.

Fascinated, you run your hand up and down his shaft, causing the otherwise ruthless man beneath you to whimper in relief. His cock gets a little firmer as your hand touches it, to which your cunt reacts in equal measure.

You lift yourself up a little, pull your slip to the side and place Ace's already hard cock in front of your entrance. As the tip of his cock touched your soft folds, a shiver ran down your spine and you slowly let its entire length disappear inside of you. As he filled you completely, Ace moaned in a deep, satisfied voice.

"That's never felt so good as it does now y/n…" His broken voice sends the next shiver down your spine and the growl in his voice runs through you.

At first you wanted to move slowly to get used to the filling sensation of his glory but Ace had other plans...

He bent his legs and started thrusting into you, sending you into bliss over and over again.

You're really glad that you're far away from anyone because you can fully indulge in the sensation and moan to your heart's content.

You have no idea how long this up and down has been going on, but you have the feeling that hours as well as just seconds could have passed.

You lean down to him to taste his lips on yours, but you pull away again because you enjoy it more when you straighten your back as Ace fills you up completely. You don't even think about stopping riding Ace and when you see his hat you somehow have the urge to put it on.

With some effort you reach for Ace's hat which was lying in the sand and put it on while you enjoy riding him to the fullest. The sight of you topless, in just your skirt and his hat, is enough to drive Ace crazy. He can barely contain his voice and moans like he's never done before.

"Mhhm yeah, ride me, cowgirl." His voice a little hoarse and dangerous.

That's probably the second nickname you really like.

Masterlist

Oh Ace.... ♡

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