#I think that's enough o's but I'm not sure

[leandra-kinard]

Okay, but have you considered that a) context matters and b) we are all coming from different places with different languages and different cultures?

Particularly the latter is something so American that it surprises me it comes from Aussies - the assumption that the entire international world 'revolves around' you and what things mean in the narrow context of your personal environment (culture, sub culture, language, nation etc.)

Think about it.

ABO is 3 letters, only 3. Without knowing it, you can assume that this is likely an acronym for dozens or more things in various places of the world.

By knowing it, I can tell you it's an acronym for a well-known wind energy corporation in Germany/neighboring countries, and as word itself it is short for 'subscription'. What is a slur to you, is a perfectly normal, common word for me that I've actually been using very frequently because of my work.

Looking it up, it's actually a regular word with various meanings in multiple languages.

Other things with the name/acronym 'abo'/'ABO'

A historic place in Mexico

The Swedish name for a city in Finland

Two American communities and a canyon

An Arabic or Hebrew male name

The Japanese name of Ekans, a Pokemon species

A Cameroonian language

American Board of Ophthalmology/Opticianry/Orthodontics

The code for Aboisso Airport in Côte d'Ivoire

The internationally used blood group system ABO (though AB0 in some nations)

Army Budget Office

Associated Builders and Owners

And that's just from looking it up for 5 minutes on Wiktionary, Wikipedia and one very America-centric abbreviations database, the latter of which has dozens other options than the few I listed. And these sources don't even list my mentioned ABO wind company (or what I assume must be dozens, if not hundreds of other companies with those 3 letters).

And then there's the context. When talking about fanfiction and shipping, who is going to assume you mean a slur for aboriginal people when they read "I've found this really great ABO fanfic with Spock as an omega"? Come on. I know this is the 'reading comprehension' website, but I'm sure we're all smart enough for that. Or most of us.

So. No. I'm not gonna write a/b/o (just typing it took me 3 backspaces and at least 3 times as much time). It's tedious, it's clunky, I don't like it. It's entirely unnecessary, because everybody knows what I mean and there's no way to eliminate that short 3-letter-combination from the hundreds different languages/nations/cultures on this planet anyway.

There are probably countless of completely normal words we use in our native languages that mean something offensive in another language. It is just sheer and utterly IMPOSSIBLE to rule that out. Ever.

Nobody should ever call you an 'abo' in the meaning and context that is offensive, but beyond that, be sensible, be logical, be tolerant instead of policing people's languages like that.

hey so when ur talking about omegaverse but espesh a/b/o yous need to leave the slashes in a/b/o if u have to use that term. bcos without the slashes, ur just putting a slur against my ppl (racists shorten the Aboriginal in Aboriginal Australians) all over my dash where i have to constantly see it and that fucking sucks, my guys

and i know most of yous didnt know this and thats fine! no need to apologise im not trying to make u feel bad, im just trying to navigate fandom and this website without being constantly exposed to a really awful racist slur

if u have to use that specific term, at least keep the slashes between the letters. it still sucks to see tho ngl. even better! stick to omegaverse or instead use aob (alpha-omega-beta) (imo its also nicer to pronounce; ay-oh-bee. ayo-bee)

anyway, pls spread awareness and (nicely) let ppl know when theyre using a racist slur for a fandom term

[cultlix]

𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

pair. soft dom! chris x sub/virgin! fem reader | genre. established relationship, power imbalance, slight angst, smut| warnings. use of pet names, dirty talking, profanity, penetrative/unprotected sex.

synopsis. "You've ruined me, I'm destroyed. How could any other girl be good, be enough for me after you?"

author's note. i wished it was him...

➽──────────────❥

"Scared?"

"Should I be, oppa?"

He shook his head. "You'll never be in danger with me. Unless you like it."

"I didn't know what I liked until I saw you."

Chris loved the pressure of your body on top of him while you were kissing, on his unmade bed, the silken cascade of your long strands tickling his nose, his cheeks, the delicate perfume of your skin burning everytime you met his faintly elusive gaze, under his daintily skilled touch, and the hesitant swinging of your tiny waist against his prominent lenght, a foretaste of what would have defiled you ceaselessly all night.

"Baby doll, beware, if you let me be the first to fuck you the only way I know how to fuck pretty cunts like yours, I swear, you'll be cursed forever."

He raised his lower back, flaunting his hardness, his thickness, making your mouth hang open when your still coated sex rubbed casually against his stirred, throbbing protuberance.

"Please," you said, voice incredibly clear, limpid to his ears, like a sudden rainfall of crystals shattering on the floor, "d-don't make me w-wait, oppa. C-can't wait to see w-what you'll do o-of me."

Sweet, rotten angel, can't even finish a sentence without miserably stumbling at the thought of getting fucked for the first time ,like she deserves, like the surreal, reckless, unaware temptress she is.

You flipped your hair, the long, disheveled cascade now falling wildly on your naked shoulders as you unhooked the front closure of your bra, taking his hands in yours, quivering, guiding them on your fair, flawless breasts, making him tighten his grasp to indulge in their tempting round shape.

So desirable, and still so inexplicably insecure, he thought, tracing with his thumbs your already turgid nipples, making you close your eyes and call his name like a fervent prayer in breathy sighs, does she even notices, imagines the effect she has on men?

He moistened his full lips, tired of anticipating, and lifted up just enough to put his hungry mouth on your extremely sensitive, rosy nub, sucking avidly on it, making you cry and tilt your head back.

"You want oppa to go slow?"

He pulled up your skirt and pushed aside your panties, circling unhurriedly your clit, making you so pathetically wet that you couldn't help but blush seeing how your honey-like essence irreparably soiled the fabric of his black jeans.

"You need oppa to make sure if you can really take his massive cock inside this untouched, sacred pussy of yours?"

He let two long fingers slid inside your crevice, going so harshly deep that you thought you would pass out. Chris started moving, in and out, carefully at first, then with a certain eagerness when he felt your hips instinctly following the agonizing rhythm of his movements.

"Goddamn, your smell, so intense…You really want me to fuck you so bad, angel? Shit, you look amazing while struggling with all your strenghts to keep my fingers in like this, in this thight, little paradise you call cunt, but will you handle the roughest part of me? Tell me, do you think you can really hold it there? Because once you'll let me penetrate you, deflower you, I know I won't be able to stop. I'll spoil you, baby doll. I'm gonna wreck all your precious doll parts, you know this?"

You whimpered, biting your lower lip, nodding. "The good girl you are," Chris praised you, slithering gently a third digit and curling it languidly, simultaneously with the others, watching you hissing, taking a fistful of his hair to fight the pain. "See, you can barely take another one, and we're not even close to what your body is going to experience."

Teardrops glistening on your eyelashes like morning dew on velvety rose petals.

"Am I not enough for you, Chris?" you asked him, dropping the honorific for the first time since you've met him, holding back the sadness, rejecting the thought of being nothing to him. "Am I not good like the other girls you had before?"

Chris watched your eyes become teary for the first time, and he felt like a part of him died the moment he knew he was somehow responsable for that. He couldn't tolerate it, he won't ever be able to endure it no more. He gently pulled his fingers out of you, letting the rapture wait, his desire arrest a little bit longer.

"Is it me who makes you believe you're not the prettiest I've ever seen? The only purest, perfect creature my tired eyes have truly met? Then punish me baby doll," he whispered sincerely with apprehension, grabbing your tiny wrist and using your clenched fist to attempt hitting his sculpted chest, "hit me. I don't deserve to be your first, to call you mine, if I can't make you see how much of a real man only you can make me feel. Look what you do to me."

He unzipped his jeans, letting his aching erection darting free from any constriction, then guided your hand on it. "Shit, do you even imagine how much self control I needed to forbid my instict to fuck you like an animal to prevail everytime you were sleeping next to me? Every single time you accidentally rubbed against my cock when I cuddled you from behind? You've ruined me, I'm destroyed. How could any other girl be good, be enough for me after you?"

Chris slapped himself aggressively in the face, his cheek turning ruby red. "I'm fucking bad, baby. I've been the worst if I ever made you doubt of me. Hit me."

"Oppa, please."

He took off his shirt and did it again, even more violently then before, then clutched his grasp around your wrist again. Your tears now flowing copiously, blurring your vision, hazing your mind.

"Come on baby, right here, on my heart, do it, hurt me like I've hurt you."

"Oppa, no. I don't want this," you cried frustrated, trying to fight against his will, but he was stronger, so much stronger and determined to suffer.

"Why?" he asked, mad at himself more than ever.

"Chris, stop," you cried, voice breaking and shaking.

"Why?" he insisted, his tone too peremptory to be ignored.

"Because I fucking love you."

You screamed at the top of your lungs, words still floating in the room, echoing in the narcotic stillness of the night, the only remedy to placate his fury, the only antidote to cure his pain, his torn soul.

"Let me be yours. I wanna be the only girl who can have you. I wanna turn into everything you've ever dreamed of, into everything you've ever needed."

He smiled, caressing your chin fondly.

"I didn't know what I needed until I saw you."

You kissed him, and it felt like drifting, like losing a part of yourself forever in that sublime exchange of minds and souls when you captured his lips in yours, stealing his breath, devouring his spirit.

Chris grabbed you firmly and pushed you against the mattress, onto his sheets, pulling down your skirt, making your panties slide down to your ankles, throwing them somewhere at the foot of the bed. He got up, taking off his pants alongside with his underwear. He positioned himself between your legs, unmoving, just admiring how breathtaking you were like this, with nothing on, exposed, frail underneath his ravenous gaze.

You grabbed his cock, so huge in your little palm, and massaged the tip delicately with your thumb, sprinkling it in his white, pearlescent fluid.

"Fuck honey, don't tease if you still want me to be gentle with you," he panted, not doing anything to make you stop though.

You giggled silently, secretly amused by his uncontrolled reaction.

"Does oppa like it like this?" you whispered.

"Oppa loves it."

You pushed the tip against your soft folds, rubbing it against your clit and the edge of your entrance. Chris cursed, shuddering, almost losing his balance, all the weight of his body risking to crash over yours.

"And like this? Does oppa like it better like this?"

"Fuck yes, so much better."

He pulled your body closer to his and spread your legs the widest he could.

"God, you're a fucking vision. So soaking wet, so open. Like this baby, rain for me, I'm so thirsty I'm gonna drain you, I'm gonna suck you dry," he warned, bending down to reach your sex glistening in your arousal, inhaling its forbidden scent deeply, making you flush, making you whine in ecstasy when he rubbed his upper lip against your swollen clit.

"Oppa wants a taste, will you let him?"

You nodded, incapable of articulating anything similar to a consent.

"Let me hear it coming from those lovely lips."

"Oppa?" you said, gulping, his nose already stroking your sensitive slit.

"Yes, baby doll?"

"I need your mouth on me, oppa, wanna feel your tongue, but please, please, let me cum on you, with you, let it happen when you're inside me."

"Is that what you want?"

"More than anything else."

"Then you don't need to ask."

Chris could feel your body writhing convulsively underneath his voracious wet muscle as he licked with extreme accuracy every inch, every soft ripple of your slippery folds, letting your flavor invade his cavity, permeating his palate, and your inebriating perfume dulling his senses like the finest of drugs.

You grabbed a fistful of his hair, moaning, as he sucked on your clit, flattening his tongue, using the tip to violate your immaculate fissure. He groaned satisfied, drinking greedily from that inexhaustible source of pleasure, the guttural sounds coming from his throat vibrating against it, sending fiery, violent frissons down your spine.

You arched your back and he helped you raise your waist to have full access on each perfect, most secret part of you, but you suddenly tried to stop him, gripping gently the long strands brushing against the nape of his neck, rebelling to his feral appetite, wanting to escape from that immeasurable delight.

"C-Chris…w-what…" you mumbled, too weak to protest, to withstand any longer.

"Oppa lied, sweetheart. He's such a demanding bastard. How is he even supposed to resist when your cunt tastes like fucking heaven? Tell me. I told you I wouldn't be able to stop, that I would have fucking spoiled you so bad."

His licking, still so precise, became quicker, feverish, his sucking vehement, avid, the tip of his tongue hitting persistently your yielding cleft, going everytime a little bit further.

You whined, cursing, crying desperate at the sensation, every limb spasming. "Y-you p-promised…"

"Never been a man of value," he confessed under his breath, looking at you through his long eyelashes, "I'm a son of a bitch, baby doll, not fucking prince charming."

You pulled his hair, without even noticing that you were rocking your hips towards his mouth to feel it moving again on you, but he stood still, remaining impassive.

"Beg me," he teased provocatively, "do it properly, and I'll stop."

You attempted to speak, to formulate any kind of plea, of request, but your words came out like nothing more but feeble, breathy sounds, confused truncated gasps.

"Fuck, C-Chris…"

His lips still cruelly consuming you, busy torturing you. "You can't do better than this, can you?"

"Please," you implored, breathless, exhausted, but in a surprisingly clear, firm voice.

Chris gazed into your eyes with defiance.

"Sorry honey," he purred, "I can't hear you."

One more deliberate twist, one last measured swirl around your irresistibly slick core, then Chris' tongue flicked inside your inviting slit, repeatedly, obsessively, so in to the hilt that he perceived a storm of irrepressible jolts coming from your body, shaking, screaming to let go. Cum, he finally granted, groaning, cum now, and you did, finally surrendering to him, jerking, cursing, crying, gushing so much, so shamelessly that you painted his chin, his lips, his mouth in your dense, snow-white nectar.

Chris drank every single drop of your orgasm, then got on his knees again on the bed. He lay his body over yours, so willowy, so fragile underneath his imposing one, and tried to kiss you, but you turned the other way.

He smiled, patiently. "You mad at me?"

You did not answer.

He pressed his lips on your temple gently, leaving a long trail of kisses on your cheek, on your neck, on your collarbone, going down to your breast where he sucked on your nipple, biting it, making you moan again, whine like he loved so much.

"I wanted you," you complained.

"And you'll have me," he said, taking your hand to guide it on his bulging, pulsing hardness. "Can't you see how much I want to see you cum with my cock buried inside you? But trust me, you weren't ready. I know what's best, you would have just hurt yourself, and I don't want this."

His hand dangerously slid to your overstimulated sex, fingers slowly sinking in your walls and coming out. "Fuck, still so thight baby, a bundle of nerves down there, and you don't even know you haven't felt anything yet."

You took his face in your hands, your piercing eyes meeting his, blurred by urge and lust.

"Fuck me, oppa. Do it till it pleases you, till it hurts me, till nobody will ever take me, will ever want me again, till I'd be nothing but doll parts scattered on your bed. I'm fucking yours, I don't care about the rest. Fuck me, please, fuck me now, fuck me hard, I need you, I love you."

Chris suddenly wrapped one arm around your hips to pull you closer to his frame, to trap you entirely under his weight, then grabbed your thighs and made your legs clasp around his waist solidly.

"Damn baby, the things you do to me when you talk like this. You're so docile and persuasive. I really wanted to go slow, doing it as it should be done, but God, you make it so difficult, you're not really bringing out the best of me right now."

You caressed his lenght in his entirety, from the head to the base, so rigid, impressive, veins popping out, pre-cum spilling gently in a long, thin stream. "I couldn't agree less," you stated, smiling maliciously.

He suddenly gripped your wrists and pinned both your hands over your head, making you giggle, watching you totally captivated.

"What?" you asked curious.

"I wanna remember you like this forever."

He entered you fully, heatedly, incapable of controlling himself, of resisting you, of waiting any longer and hushing his impatience, his impulsive exigency to fill your cunt for the first time, completely, to the extreme. He stared spellbound at how his huge cock disappeared under your sparkling skin, and how your pussy, so smooth, so delicate, took it in with absolute composure. He bent down, stealing a long, soothing kiss from your parted lips to try softening your pain, to help your body calm, relax, gradually and naturally adjust to his presence.

Chris moaned tilting his head back lost in the rapture of your thightness enwrapping him so hungrily, squeezing him so forcefully, then started moving his hips leisurely, his thrusts rhythmic and regular, constant and sustained. More, harder, please oppa, faster, he heard you crying, so eager, insatiable, desperately raising your waist to try fastening his phlegmatic pace, so his shoves got quicker, wilder, as he shortened the duration of his hammering movements and intensified their force, their steadiness.

He could feel distinctly your legs jerking, your muscles contracting, your walls constricting, fluttering erratically around him, suffocating his shaft in that furious, chaotic whirlwind of tremors and convulsions. He was well aware he was also irrevocably close to his own verge.

"Shit, p-princess, oppa wants to f-fill you with his c-cum, w-will you let him?" he panted, visibly struggling to articulate that coherent phrase as he kept on shoving himself into you relentlessly, hastily, ruthlessly.

"Yes, fuck, yes…" you allowed, and then, there was nothing left to do but abandoning to the gripping power of ecstasy.

You both orgasmed, collapsing enfolded in the warmth of your embrace, blatantly entranced, unbridled, floating blissfully in that heavenly, idyllic vortex of carnal and spiritual junction, ruled by that strong, passionate but contradictory feeling of coming to life and dying at the same time, you coating his golden skin in your honeyed juices and he releasing his hot fluid emprisoned in your trembling body, calling your name, no terms of endearment this time, no nicknames, just your real name forming sensually on his lips as he reached the culmination of his own pleasure, making you feel for once more than just his little girl, but his woman.

Chris fell down on his back, weary, sated, trying hard to catch his breath again as his chest moved up and down rhythmically.

"What?" he asked seeing you smiling.

You shrugged. "Nothing. I just wanna remember you like this forever."

He laughed wholeheartedly. "Come here."

And he kissed you, in the only way he could, he knew, leaving you wishing on bittersweet illusions, on the stupidly romantic dream that he wouldn't be just your first, but maybe even your last.

© cultlix, 2024. all rights reserved.

[tizahfanfics]

This POST reminded me of a fic I wrote a long time ago. It's basically Gordon and Scott on the beach (but it's angst, because... it's me, so it's always angst).

💙🧡💙🧡💙🧡💙🧡💙🧡💙🧡💙🧡

MURKY WATERS

"I was lost in a sea of despair, but you pulled me back..."

"You wanna surfing today?" The question came out of nowhere.

Gordon blinked and stared at his brother. It was ridiculously early, even for his morning habits. Scott stood in front of him, wearing this weird, expectant look.

"Scott… what?"

"I'm heading out to catch some waves. Thought you'd wanna come along."

"Sure, just—give me a minute. But, uh, why so early? It's gotta be freezing out there." Mornings on the island were always chilly, with winds that cut like a knife. Not exactly Gordon’s ide.

"What? Thought you liked a little challenge. Or are you chickening out?" Scott smirked, looking way too amused for Gordon's taste.

"No way! Just didn’t think you’d wanna hit the waves this early," Gordon said cautiously, choosing his words like walking on eggshells. Scott had been… touchy lately. The wrong tone or phrasing could set him off.

"Fine. I’ll meet you on the beach." Scott spun on his heel and left, leaving Gordon momentarily stunned. Well… maybe this was good. Maybe Scott was finally feeling more like himself. Gordon loved surfing with Scott, so… why not?

Gordon got dressed quickly and headed down to the beach, grabbing his board on the way.

It was definitely cold, just as he'd thought. Gordon considered trying to talk Scott into waiting a little longer, but when he spotted his brother already out in the water, grinning ear to ear, he let it slide.

Bracing himself for the icy waves, Gordon followed Scott into the surf. The wind was sharp and biting, and the water was frigid. Hopefully, Scott would realize this soon and they'd both head back in.

They paddled out and caught a couple of small waves, Gordon staying close enough to keep an eye on his brother. If anything went wrong, he was ready to haul Scott back to shore, no questions asked.

"Hey, remember that time at… what was it, Malibu?" Scott paddled closer, his nose red from the cold and his eyes bright with energy.

"Yeah, I remember. You didn’t wanna go, but then we couldn’t get you off the board," Gordon said with a laugh. Back then, Scott had been down in the dumps for some reason, so Gordon had dragged him out to Malibu for a few days with some friends.

Scott had initially bailed, saying he had "stuff to deal with," but right before Gordon left, he showed up, packed and ready.

"I didn’t wanna go," Scott admitted, his voice quieter. "That was the day Erin dumped me."

Oh.

Gordon hadn’t known that. He’d met Erin a few times, but never thought their relationship was anything serious. She was the free-spirited type, not someone who seemed interested in long-term anything. Besides, Scott had been gearing up to head to the Air Force Academy anyway.

"I had no idea," Gordon said, his brow furrowing. "Why didn’t you tell me? And why'd you decide to come, then?"

"It was… something she said," Scott replied, trailing off as he stared at the horizon.

Gordon waited for him to elaborate, but Scott just stayed there, lost in thought, before suddenly paddling further out.

"Hey, you just gonna sit there? That wave looks killer!" Scott called, breaking Gordon's train of thought.

Gordon smiled at his brother's excitement before trying to follow along. Scott wasn't making sense today;but after weeks of having a very quiet and untalkative brother, this seemed like progress. Gordon hoped it was.

He watched his brother advance and felt a tingling in his stomach that told him not to lose sight of him.

"Wait! Don’t go too far!" Gordon yelled, but Scott kept paddling toward a swell forming in the east. Gordon couldn’t help but feel like a worried parent on a beach trip with their kid. Usually, that was Scott’s job.

Apesar do frio, Scott parecia estar aproveitando o momento. Era bom ver seu irmão relaxando.

He enjoyed the sea. The day was truly beautiful, the cold already beginning to give way to comforting warmth as the sun rose in the sky.He looked around, not wanting to lose sight of Scott. Everything seemed so normal, just like old times.

A strong wind began to blow like the howl of a wounded animal. Gordon felt a strange chill, his Squid sense suddenly began to beep. He didn't know what it was.

His brother continued forward and Gordon realized he was heading in an unsafe direction. Stroking faster he began to move forward to get closer to Scott. His brain told him he was just freaking out over nothing.

But something in Gordon’s gut told him he needed to get Scott out of the water. Like, now.

He paddled faster, trying to catch up. Scott shouldn’t be pushing himself this hard—his body was still recovering.

"Scott! Slow down, man. Save some energy for the next set…" Gordon tried to keep his tone light, but his concern was bleeding through.

Scott ignored him. When the wave came, he rode it perfectly, and Gordon followed close behind.

Being inside the wave was exhilarating, like flying. Gordon thought maybe that was what Scott was chasing—freedom.

When they surfaced, both gasping for air, Gordon swept his wet hair back and glanced around for Scott. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Scott popped up right in front of him.

Scott’s expression was… strange. A mix of fear and uncertainty.

"You good?" Gordon blurted out before he could stop himself.

Scott frowned, like he was trying to work out the question, then turned back to the horizon.

"Yeah. I’m fine," he finally said, but his tone didn’t match the words.

"Scott, why don’t we head back now, huh? My leg’s cramping up a bit. Don’t think I should risk it," Gordon said, hoping to appeal to Scott’s protective instincts.

Scott gave him a long look, and for a second, Gordon thought he’d agree. But halfway back, Scott stopped abruptly.

"You’re lying."

"What?" Gordon asked, caught off guard.

"You’re lying! I’m fine, damn it! Why is everyone acting like I’m made of glass?" Scott shouted, his voice shaking as he tossed his surfboard aside.

"Whoa, hey! Where’s this coming from? We’re just worried about you!" Gordon said, letting his own board float as he reached for Scott.

But Scott wasn’t having it. "Worried? I’m sick of it! I know what I can handle, Gordon! I know what I'm capable of, I'm not broke! Can I at least ride a wave? ....I need this. Either that or would you rather I take a plane to relax? I—" He laughed, a sharp, bitter sound that made Gordon’s chest tighten.

"Scott! Calm down, man. Let’s just—"

But Scott was already paddling back out, ignoring him completely.

Gordon’s heart was pounding. Something was wrong.

"Scott!" he yelled, picking up his pace as a wave rolled over them. When Gordon surfaced, Scott was gone.

Panic hit him like a punch to the gut.

"Scott!" Gordon shouted again, spinning in the water. His pulse thundered in his ears.

Without a second thought, Gordon dove under, scanning the cold, murky water. It wasn’t long before he spotted a flash of blue—Scott’s wetsuit.

Scott lay motionless in the murky water.

Fuck fuck fuck!

He swam faster than he ever had, grabbing his brother and hauling him toward the shore.

By the time they hit the sand, Scott wasn’t breathing.

Gordon’s throat tightened, but he shoved the panic aside. His training kicked in;ignoring how much he himself was shaking.

Minutes felt like hours until, finally, Scott coughed and spat out water.

He couldn't believe what had just happened. He wanted to cry, from relief, from fear, from all the feelings that were boiling inside him.

Gordon quickly came to his senses upon hearing the distressing sounds of his brother. A mixture of coughs and sobs shook Scott's body, making Gordon's heart tighten even more.

Pulling his brother so he could breathe better resting on his chest as he calmed his own nerves from the terror he felt when Scott disappeared into the water.

"Shhh, you're okay. You're okay bro, we're okay." He knew they were far from okay; but somehow they would get there.

When his brother's rapid breathing and sobs finally calmed, he pulled Scott so they were face to face, still supporting him with his hands on his shoulders.

"What's gotten into you?!" ?" He didn't want his voice to crack, but he couldn't help it. It would give him many nights of nightmares.

Scott looked away and frowned, as if understanding had only just dawned on him.

"I don't know…oh my gosh. Fuck! I'm so sorry." He began to speak, his voice low and muffled by his own hands, which were shaking uncontrollably.

"Damn it! You don't do that Scott. You don't go into the water and underestimate it like that, ever. And you can't do that to me! You scared me to death." He stood up, needing to breathe and calm himself. "If I hadn't found you, you would have died! Do you see that? We just got you back…you can't-" Then everything came crashing down; he could no longer contain the tears that insisted on falling suddenly.

Scott tried to get up, but his legs betrayed him and he almost fell back into the sand if Gordon hadn't rushed to catch him.

They locked in a desperate embrace as if they could put all the broken pieces of themselves back together with just the endless love they felt for each other.

Gordon held his brother tightly. Scott was shaking under his hands. For a minute they stood there, breathing. Until Gordon realized that Scott was now shaking badly and still a little panting. He maneuvered his brother to steady him, and they both began the slow walk toward home.

"Let's go home, Scotty. Let's get you warm again." His brother said nothing, but squeezed his hand in acknowledgement.

You don't have to run, Scott. You can lean on us. We'll get through this, together."His brother made a very timid sound of agreement beside him. Gordon accepted this, it was the best he could ask for at the moment.

Scott had only been home from the hospital for a month. He looked much better physically, but Gordon knew there were unseen wounds that would take longer to heal.

"Thank you Gords" His brother thanked him, softly, almost a whisper.

"Anytime, bro. I'm here for you, whenever you need me. But I'd rather you didn't pull an Aquaman, my heart is fragile."

[atoriv-art]

What are your thoughts on Sasuke x Gaara

beautiful showstopping saved my life we love you sasugaa <333

ok to actually answer: i think they have a very compelling dynamic! i really really like their chunin exams era with gaara being weirdly obsessed with sasuke because they're both "damaged" to put it in some way!

i wish we got to see sasuke's opinion about it a little more, especially since it comes at a time where he's starting to come around to the idea of using his power to protect and not just kill itachi, but this "i relate to your pain and i need to make sure my pain (and to gaara, therefore my power) is still bigger and more powerful" dynamic is soooo fun to me as an introduction point between them! i find it a lot more compelling than what it got interrupted by 😅

i understand the value of having gaara see someone who is Literally just like him (ie also a jinchuriki), but imo having him deal with someone who he perceives as Emotionally just like him (ie traumatized, angry and lonely) was already excellent...

also!!!!!!!!!! i'm not a fan of how sasuke is characterized in the five kage summit in general (or rather how he's demonized by the framing of it all. i love a good public meltdown. his evil laugh lives in my brain) BUT i looooooooove the scene with gaara confronting him i was NOT expecting it when i was watching it the first time and it was like an angel smiled down upon me.

and and and (guy who gets to bring up the naruto games again) they do a fun reversal of their original dynamic there it in the ninja storm games, with sasuke being the one to flaunt his pain and power against gaara

LIKE SORRY I JUST THINK IT'S FUNNN!!!! they have a lot in common and deal with it similarly but when gaara's at his lowest sasuke's starting to get better, and that gets flipped later on: when gaara's figured himself out it's sasuke who's completely spiraling... hehehehe!

ok ill put the rest in a read-more. jesus

i get why the pairing isn't very popular (sasuke has like, two of the biggest pairings soaking up all of the fandom attention span alkdsmak) but i cannot standddd the weird consensus that they don't like each other 😭 gaara showed in that scene that he does still hold some amount of respect and empathy for sasuke, enough to offer him a helping hand when he was at his lowest, and sasuke himself was engaging in the conversation much as he disagreed with gaara... it's gaara who starts the fighting back up, not sasuke!

imo gaara's words to naruto later on that get twisted into a "girl dump him" speech (😒.) are obviously meant to serve as a warning to manage expectations, because he Knows his friend is still not going to give up on sasuke and might not even particularly want him to, but he's speaking from the kage angle as opposed to what he personally would want

gaara CRIED for sasuke and stopped the fighting specifically to talk to him for fuck's sake he doesn't HATE him, his siblings have to convince him to give up on trying to talk to him and there's a distinction made of what should be done as a kage. and while i have a thousand things to say about how i don't love how the manga handles its kage characters wrt framing them as Generally Good, i do think it's notable that it's this that makes him give it up

"personal feelings" meaning, his siblings can recognize that gaara doesn't fucking want to fight him and would really prefer to talk this out. I think about this a lot sorry KSMDKSMDK so much of the consensus is that gaara, specifically, can't stand sasuke and for WHAT.

and as a sidebar i think their insistence on calling e/o by their full names/titles ("Uchiha Sasuke" / "Gaara Of The Sand") is so fucking funny.

i know what you are. also:

sasuke engaging in battle banter. OPEN YOUR EYES

ANYWAY!

i actually think that of my "quirky" pairings (the sasugaaneji triad that is.) it's the one with the most canon basis and it's not even close. however it's also the one that i notice people engaging the least with ASKJDNSAKD which is obviously fine it's just a little funny to me

[ask-ruth-weaver]

(Meme yoinked from @ velcroooooo)

[aeb-art]

help wanted 2 brainwashed me so here's some ooc self-indulgence:

hey mike, maybe if you played moon's games and took a nap, it wouldn't chase you around the building, just a thought

later:

[prince-liest]

It's kind of a weird (not sure if good or bad or just neutral!) experience to realize that a lot of the personal headcanons I've written into my own writing have become well-known enough that they're treated as general fanon with a lot of people using them and not realizing that they, like, originated from a specific place rather than just being ambiently popular. Every once in a while I come across a fic where there's an AN that says something to the tune of, "Oh, I saw this popular headcanon that [insert something really specific from 666: Live On Air!] and wanted to[...]" without attributing it to me - or, most likely, even realizing that it came from me!

It's an interesting feeling! I think the times that actually bother me are when it's people that know they got the headcanon directly from me and choose not to credit me (or in one weird instance, credit me, then edit their stuff to bury the credit to be really hard to find for some reason - y'all, I do notice these things even when I don't comment on them).

I've been straight up plagiarized many times before. It's ranged from friends in RP groups stealing my characters because I wasn't using them often anymore, to more recently someone ripping out chunks of one of my Hazbin Hotel fics and rewriting it as their own. It's a uniquely horrible feeling, and I think it makes me sensitive to feeling uncredited as a result even when plagiarism isn't occuring. On the other hand, this is literally how headcanons evolve and I'm actually so fucking happy that specific things that I was outright nervous to post because I thought people would (and in a few cases, people did) react very poorly to them are now, like...fairly common fanon.

Anyway, I don't think it's wrong for people to carry forward headcanons to the point where they don't even know where they came from. I also think most likely some concepts became convergently popular when more than one person had the same thought! It's how fandoms work and I know for a fact I've done the same... but it does very much give me the warm and fuzzies when people that use my ideas do give a nod in my direction for where they got the inspiration! In return, I try to make a point to do the same.

[spookyxsprinkles]

if there’s no one beside you when your soul embarks, then i’ll follow you into the dark [chapter 1/?]

hayakawa aki × shy fiend f!reader

-> safe for work (for now) // 4.9k words // AO3. -> warnings: smoking, blood, cheesy, friendship, romance, discrimination, fluff, angst, pining that may or may not be mutual, soft aki, protective aki, eventual smut, eventual romance, canon divergent, fic will get into darker topics as the story progresses but i'll update the warnings as i go, chainsaw man part 1 spoilers.

Devil hunters use devils to kill devils.

The irony was never lost on you. This was a use or get used world, after all.

In the distance, your ears picked up the sounds of a fight. Explosions, rubble falling, metal crunching. It sounded far enough away for you not to worry about closing the convenience store early (not that your boss would’ve let you), but it was still close enough for you to stay alert as you stood on a flipped milk crate, stocking the fridge. The situation seemed to have settled by the time you finished and you allowed yourself to relax.

You were behind the counter reading a romance novel when the smell of dust and blood assaulted your nose, making you look up at the source. The sliding doors let out a melodic chime as a tall man with a top knot dressed in a black suit entered the store, walking straight for the freezers in the back. Your eyes stayed glued to the sword strapped to his back until he was no longer visible from where you stood.

You took a sip from your water bottle before returning your attention back to the book in front of you. Two pages later, you realize you weren’t actually processing the words on the page and, with a sigh, you flip back to try again. You struggled reading the same paragraph over and over until the sound of aluminum cans clanking against the counter top startled you. The man with a top knot (with a sword strapped to his back) had placed canned coffees and an apple in front of you.

“Cigarettes, too.”

Before he could finish pulling out his wallet, you set a white box down on the counter between the two of you. He stared down at the box of Mevius One KS cigarettes with a furrow in his brow and his eyes moved to meet your own.

“I-I have a good nose.” You anxiously look away from him and quickly scan his items, placing them neatly in a plastic bag. “That’ll be ¥4,570.74.”

The man eyed you for a moment, as if studying you, then pulled out his card to insert it into the machine until he noticed a sign with messy handwriting stating that the card machine was out of order. He returned his card back into it’s place in his wallet before pulling out cash and placing it into your outreached hand, his cold fingers brushing against yours as he did so.

“You’re good,” he says quietly.

You suck in a breath at his comment and nod, feeling unsure of how else to respond so you simply thank him for shopping at the convenience store and to have a nice day. You watch his dark form disappear down the street before letting out a sigh of relief as you adjusted the crochet beanie on your head.

+

Two or three times a week, he would come in to buy canned coffee and cigarettes. The two of you never spoke much beyond pleasantries. (“hello,” “good afternoon,” “have a nice day,” “you too.”)

Currently, he was in the back of the store by the freezers. You tried to keep your attention on your book as you absent-mindedly fidgeted with the sleeve of your over-sized cardigan.

It had been a few short months since you started working here, since you first noticed him. The convenience store wasn’t the closest one to the Public Safety office in Tokyo, but it was still frequented daily by people who worked there, including other devil hunters.

Every now and then you’d stop seeing a face come by the shop and determined that they must have been killed on the job. It wasn’t a secret that devil hunters didn’t have very long lifespans, it was the nature of the job. However, you recently found yourself feeling relieved whenever he stepped over the threshold of the sliding glass doors and greeted you in return.

You weren’t entirely sure why you felt that way. He was obviously attractive, though you doubted that was reason for your feelings.

Still, relieved as you may be, you found it difficult to focus whenever the two of you shared the same four walls.

To you, devils had an acrid smell. The stronger the devil, the more offensive the smell was. You were sure the devil hunter was human, but the scents that lingered on him were the strongest you had smelled in quite a while. The smell was stronger on him than it was on most of the devil hunters you encountered.

He must have worked closely with strong devils and the thought of that frightened you. You once heard a group of devil hunters mention a special division in Public Safety that made devils work for them without free will.

You cautiously cast glance his way as he flipped through a magazine, and you wondered if this devil hunter (your devil hunter) was involved with something as awful as that.

+

By now, he must have noticed the way you always avoided eye contact with him. You're sure of it.

You try to read but you simply could not focus and you found yourself looking in his direction every few minutes. He walked around the shop, aimlessly browsing, rather than going straight for what he came for like he usually did. You’re tempted by the opportunity to strike up a conversation with him, to get to know him a little (for better or worse), but you bite your tongue.

You wouldn’t know what to say. The majority of your social skills were learnt through reading books.

You notice that sometimes, when the store gets empty, he stares at you for a few moments, as if he wants to say something, before thinking better of it and exiting the store, leaving you to watch him from behind.

+

You felt your hands shaking more than they usually did whenever he was around. You hoped he didn't notice, though when you looked up at him, you could see him watching you. Your eyes briefly look over at the sword on his back before returning your attention back to the monitor and reading him his total.

You took his money and shakily hand him the receipt, which he takes. You quickly look away and feel his lingering gaze, followed by the small intake of breath. You get the impression that he's about to say something.

You do your best to look busy organizing your space behind the counter. Your hands were trembling, causing you to knock over a candy display. Rolls of mints clattered around your boots and you bend over to pick them up.

You hear the chiming of the sliding doors as they opened and closed and you peeked over the counter to see that he was gone.

+

A few days later, you’re stocking the freezer with drinks. Despite wearing your cardigan and beanie, you shivered as you struggled to reach the top shelves. You forgot to grab the milk crate from behind the counter to help you reach higher, but with the devil hunter in the store earlier than usual, you decided to quickly wrap up stocking so that you could get back to the counter.

Large, pale hands grasp the can from your hand, making you flinch in surprise. You look over your shoulder and see the devil hunter helping you place the remaining drinks on the top shelf. You swallow hard and avert your eyes from him.

“Thank you...” He nodded then went on his way to continued his shopping. You walk back to the register to wait for him. You felt his gaze on you but you didn’t dare look up away from the register you were pretending to clean. Your head hurt from overthinking.

You checked out his items when he brought them over to you, faster than you usually did. You were eager for him to leave so that you could focus on anything other than him right now.

"A box of Mevius One KS, please."

You were too distracted with your own thoughts that you forgot to give him his cigarettes. You apologize and turn in a hurry to reach for them on the shelf, stepping onto the milk crate, but in your haste you lost your balance. You yelped as you fell onto the cold tile, boxes of cigarettes raining down on your head.

The next thing you knew, he’s behind the counter kneeling beside you, scanning you for any injuries before returning his gaze to yours.

“Are you okay?”

You couldn’t help but notice the concern in his voice. It was a stark contrast to the stoicism he usually exuded whenever he was in the store.

You nod, feeling your cheeks heat up with embarrassment as you looked up at him. You look away again, sitting up despite your butt aching from the fall. You ran a nervous hand through your hair and realized your beanie had fallen off and the devil hunter was staring—right at the pair of fluffy ears on your head.

“You’re…” he pauses, looking at you in a way that was hard to read.

You panicked. You grabbed your beanie from the floor, clumsily hopped over the counter, knocking over the candy display in the process as you ran out of the store.

“Wait! Come back!”

He continued to call out after you, his voice growing more and more distant until you could no longer make out the individual words. Your feet feel like they’re going to give out from underneath you as you sprint along the sidewalk hoping to never see him away.

+

The following day was your day off, but your boss called you in. He fired you for leaving the store unattended and withheld your final paycheck. When you timidly tried to stand up for yourself, telling him that he couldn’t do that, he said he could because you had no human rights as a fiend.

There was nothing you could do about it.

You managed to find another job in a grocery store on the other side of town. It was farther away from your home, but safer since it lessened the risk of running into the same devil hunter again.

A few weeks later, you were working the register when you recognized his scent. Your eyes widened in horror when you realized he had found you. The two of you stared at each other.

His expression was stern and focused. There’s no trace of the gentleness he’d shown last time. A depressing reminder that this man wasn’t just a man and you weren’t just a woman.

He was here to kill you, or worse.

You were frozen in place. It’s only when he begins to approach you that you remember to breathe. You trembled fearfully as he stood in front of you.

“Hey—”

“P-Please don’t hurt me,” you sputtered out from behind the register.

His expression softens, but his eyes are steady, resolute. You can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s trying to convey some sort of message to you.

“I’m not going to kill you, don’t worry,” he replies calmly. “I’m not here to harm you in any way.”

"But you're a devil hunter... are you here to capture me and force me to work for Public Safety?"

"No."

You don’t believe him and flinch away when he pulls something from his inner suit pocket.

An envelope.

"I realized you were probably scared of being hunted, so I didn’t chase you. I went looking for you back at the convenience store the next day. Your boss said you were fired. I found out he illegally withheld your final paycheck, so I've been searching for you to return it."

Your brows furrow as he places the envelope on the counter. You weren't sure if you could trust him or not. His eyes never left your face as you looked down at the envelope then back up at him. You're not sure what to say or do, but his quiet, patient composure is a stark contrast to his intimidating presence earlier.

He gestures towards the envelope. “You can open it. I’m not trying to force you to join Public Safety. I’m simply making sure you get what’s rightfully yours. You can’t exactly sue him.”

The fact that he seemed so confident that this was going to change everything, that you're going to trust him, sends your brain into overdrive. You don't know what to do.

“Open it," he says quietly. Gently.

You hesitantly reach for the envelope and open it, finding the money your former boss denied you of. You expect him to demand something from you in return, but he quietly walked out of the store.

+

A couple of weeks later, you pick up his scent again as you’re stacking a table with cans on sale. You noticed he was accompanied by two others with inhuman scents. Both strong and familiar smells that you’ve smelled on him in the past. Devils. In the grocery store? Their casual-wear made it seem like they weren’t on official business and based on the way they were acting, the three of them seemed close.

You were nearly finished with stacking the can display, when the devils accidentally ran their cart into the table, knocking over the cans. The devil hunter turned at the sound and came over.

You’re on your knees, picking up cans and placing them back on the table to get them off the floor. The devils snickered, until the devil hunter scolded them.

"Can you two knock it off and help pick those up?"

For some reason that makes you feel embarrassed and you tell him that it’s okay. “It was an accident. Don’t worry, it’s my job to do this...”

His gaze meets yours.

“Hey," he says quietly as he approaches the knocked over cans. After taking a quick glance at you, he begins to clean up the mess while the devils continued to bicker and argue as they stacked, making a competition out of it. The way they carried themselves, like bickering siblings. Not that you would know personally, but it reminded you of siblings in the stories you’ve read. You were wondering how old they were when you realized just how tall the devil hunter actually is; he seems to dwarf the other two.

"Are you alright?" He asked, looking at the fallen cans lying on the floor. You could feel his eyes on you, looking over you as though checking to see any sign of injuries. You sneak a peek at him, noticing his eyes glancing at the beanie on your head. The beanie that covered your devil ears.

You nod, your timid and nervous nature getting in the way of the moment. He scolds the others and eventually gives them the task of doing the rest of the shopping and offering them a snack reward. They run off excitedly with the cart as he helped you stack the cans. The two of you worked quietly.

He continued helping you for a bit longer, his presence soothing rather than intimidating like before. Then, once you finish stacking the cans on the shelf, he steps back for a moment as though hesitating.

You glance at him nervously, nodding as you chewed on your bottom lip. You wondered if it’d be rude to walk away right now. Probably.

"Are you busy after work?"

Your eyes widen, and you can feel your heart beginning to beat faster. You can hear the others laughing in the distance, clearly not paying attention to the conversation taking place.

"Yes," you lied.

He made a face, as if he could easily tell that you had just lied from your tone and nervous body language, but nodded anyways. He offered to buy you something to eat as an apology for the cans and for being the reason you lost your previous job at the convenience store.

"Will I... owe you?"

"No."

You weren’t sure whether or not you should trust him. So far, he seemed to have your best interests in mind, though you knew that could also be a trick. You decided to take a leap of faith.

"Apples. I like apples."

His expression remained stoic and you felt vulnerable under his watchful gaze. People who knew you were not human treated you differently, saw you differently. To them, you felt invisible and disposable. Like something to be used and tossed away when it became too much trouble. The way this devil hunter looked at you now was different than how he used to look at you when he thought you were a human like him, but it also didn’t feel like he thought of you as something less than him. The way he was looking at you right now made you feel like your heart was in your throat. You try to swallow it back down.

“Apples?” He gives a small nod. "Then I'll buy you some.”

+

He buys you a bag of apples.

It becomes routine.

Whenever he stops by the grocery store, he would leave you with a bag of apples.

It was the kindest thing a human had ever done for you.

You craved speaking with him, not really getting much positive attention from others. You felt lonely and wondered if he could tell. You didn't trust humans but you wanted to trust him. You really wanted to trust him.

So, you tried talking to him a little bit. It was awkward and you were as clumsy with your words as you were with your body but in a few months, the two of you were able to have casual small talk. You were so happy to be able to joke with him, even just a little bit.

Your relationship with him grew over time with these simple interactions, these little moments of kindness that he showed you.

This is a stark contrast to the way devil hunters and civilians had treated you in the past. Their disdain for devils would get in the way of your interactions, but you didn’t have that problem with your devil hunter. Seeing him with his devil friends gave you hope.

You looked forward to his visits. His presence is a quiet one. He doesn't expect anything from you, nor does he ask much about you yet here you are, talking almost like... friends.

"Th-Thank you, Mr. Hayakawa." You speak his name for the first time, a bit timidly. You learned it a couple of months ago when he asked to be signed up for the grocery store’s rewards program, but you never said it out loud until now. He had just bought you apples again and you wanted to thank him.

His expression was as gentle as his voice. "Just Aki is fine."

The way he holds himself seems to have loosened up considerably. His shoulders, once stiff and tense, now hang loosely by his sides. He no longer seems quite as intimidating. And you're not sure how exactly, but it almost seems as if his presence becomes... softer.

You nod, feeling your face heat up. "Sorry, th-thank you, Mr. A-Aki..!"

You can't tell if there's a small hint of amusement in his eyes, but then again, he's hard to read.

"Why 'Mr. Aki'?" He asks you curiously.

"Did I say something wrong? Would you prefer a different title?" You nervously fiddle with your fingers.

His eyebrows knit together slightly, as though thinking. “It’s not really needed, I guess. You don't need to call me by any title or honorific. Aki's enough..." He trails off.

"O-Okay... A-Aki..."

You felt your face heat even more from being allowed to refer to him so informally. You have never spoken someone's name so casually before. You distract yourself by stiffly scanning the rest of his items.

He eyes the bag of apples sitting at the end of the register’s moving belt. "Did you want anything else?" He asks, his eyes looking back to you. Your eyes widen and you shake your head furiously, knocking your beanie off balance, slightly revealing the bottom of one of your fluffy ears. Aki eyes it, wondering if you’d notice it in time to fix it before anyone else saw it.

"No, no I'm okay! Really! The apples are good. I love apples. I-I... Thank you, Aki."

"Are you sure?" He asks and from the way his eyes were staring at your cheeks you knew he was aware you were feeling very flustered right now.

Aki’s eyes return to your visible ear. You were beginning to feel self-conscious when he leaned over the counter of the register and adjusted your beanie. “Your ear was showing. Sorry.”

You flinched at the sudden contact and as he pulled away, you grabbed his wrists without thinking. You hold onto him for a moment.

The air around you seems to heat up slightly, the intensity of your gaze rather palpable. You feel a shiver run down your spine at the closeness of the situation and notice his eyebrow raising in confusion. He seemed a little surprised by how close you are to him, but he doesn't back away. The sound of someone sneezing snapped you out of your daze and you released him.

You back away from the register, avoiding his eyes and mumbling a series of apologies before making up some excuse about needing to unclog a toilet.

(Aki watched you run off towards the back. He could still feel the warmth of your hands around his wrists as he left the store).

+

The next few times Aki went to the store, you weren’t around. He asks the manager about you and she said that you took a few weeks off.

Aki wondered why and if it had anything to do with what happened.

+

As the days passed, his curiosity over why you weren’t around grew. He doesn’t know if your last encounter with him had anything to do with that, but he hoped that it didn’t.

Your absence brought about a certain sense of loneliness, and though he’s never admitted it to himself, he starts to miss you and the moments that you’d shared with one another.

+

You return a month later, avoiding Aki's eyes as you scanned his items. You were quiet today.

As you return to your old routine, you feel Aki’s eyes trailing you. He keeps to himself and gives you space, but he’s still observant as you worked. Something had changed in your demeanor. You're being polite but distant, keeping your distance from him and not speaking unless absolutely necessary. You’re not like yourself at all. He doesn’t know why and it makes his curiosity grow even more.

"Is something wrong?" He leans forward a bit, wondering if he'd done something wrong.

"No..." You say quietly as you handed him his change, careful not to touch him.

The way that you speak makes him certain that there is something wrong; he's known you long enough to tell. Your avoidance is what catches his attention however.

You bag his items and another customer sets their items down on the belt for you to scan. There are plenty of people lining up behind Aki, so you turn your attention to the next customer as you bag his items.

“Is this about me?” He asks, once the customers have cleared the line-up. He’d been watching you interact with the other customers and noticed that you weren't behaving this way with them. Only with him.

"Yes," you say hesitantly, "But you didn't do anything wrong. It's me that's the problem..." Your face burns red. "Please don't worry about it."

"Well, now you've got me worried," he replies, his usual stoic expression giving way to genuine concern. "You've been acting a bit strange. Like something happened."

"It-It doesn't feel appropriate to say, so I'd really rather we didn't get into it." You say as you fiddled with your fingers. "It's nothing worth worrying about. Nothing bad happened and I don't think ill of you, Mr- I mean, Aki."

If he wasn’t so worried, he would've quietly laughed at your little slip up. Aki watches you as you fiddle with your fingers, a bit more concerned now. He doesn’t like not being able to figure out what’s been on your mind this entire time.

You’re keeping things vague, and it’s driving him crazy.

"So, this has nothing to do with our last interaction?" he asks you, genuinely curious.

Your face reddens even more, "It... it may have something to do with that..." You look at the clock on the wall before timidly looking at Aki. "If it's okay with you, can we talk about it after my shift ends in 20 minutes..?"

He nods, still trying not to let any emotion appear on his face.

"That’s fine. I'll be waiting for you outside if that’s okay.”

+

Fifty minutes later, you run outside, panting heavily.

"S-Sorry for taking so long. You didn't have to wait." Your hands squeezed at the strap of your cross body bag.

"I don't mind," he tells you. You notice the way his eyes scan your face, as if he's looking for something in particular. Like he's trying to figure something out. "Are you okay?"

"I'll be okay. Thank you, Aki." You chew on your bottom lip as you look at him. It all suddenly feels too real and you look down at the ground again. "I-I'm not being weird because you did something wrong. I've been acting strangely because I've recently realized my... my feelings. I'm sorry." You say quietly.

"Ah..." Aki replies softly, his attention glued to you as you nervously chew on your lip. "Can I ask you something?"

You nod. (In your head, you were mentally preparing for him to tell you to work at a different store so that he never has to see your devil face ever again.)

"You said that you've recently realized your feelings, but..." he pauses. "How long have you actually liked me?" There's a teasing smile playing on his lips.

Your ears perk up on your head, shifting your beanie slightly. "Not long! I swear, I promise it's only recent. It wasn't until I went home after the last time I saw you, when you were fixing my hat, that I realized there might be some feelings from my end. I promise I had no ulterior motives during the last ten months."

"Just how recent are we talking?"

"...Actually, maybe I did have an ulterior motive. No, not maybe. I did have one."

Your ears moved under the beanie, knocking it off of your head. Your ears lay flat against your head, like if you did something wrong.

“Really?” Aki raises an eyebrow, "What was your ulterior motive?"

"I…” You spoke quietly while staring down at his shoes. “I wanted to be your friend."

There’s a long moment of silence.

“...That’s an ulterior motive?” he asks, a hint of amusement returning to his voice. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

"Of course it is..! It was something I wanted that you didn't know I wanted. That's the definition, right?" Your face is red and your ears twitch but remain flat. "You were always so kind to me and whenever I saw you and Power and Denji behaving so familiar with each other I-I wanted that too." Your voice cracked and your eyes welled with tears.

Aki’s kindness meant the world to you and you wanted to be a part of his world, too.

He picked your beanie up off of the ground and dusted it off before placing it back on your head, carefully covering your ears for you.

“It is technically an ulterior motive,” Aki admits. He looks away from your eyes, to the ground between the two of you. “Is that really the main reason you kept talking to me?”

You nodded while trying to make yourself look at his face,

"I like you, in both senses of the word, but the platonic meaning is what I value the most. You've treated me with kindness and patience, even when I pretended to act like I was bad at my job just so I could have a few extra seconds of time with you."

Aki's expression softens.

“Do you want to come over my place for dinner?”

“Huh!?” Your eyes nearly pop out of your head at his sudden question, “Where did that come from?”

“Denji and Power will be there, too...” He trailed off.

“No, it’s okay. Thank you for the offer, though. I appreciate it but I don’t want to impose.”

“You won’t be imposing.”

He walks you to his car and when he unlocks it, you open the door to the backseat. He says you could sit up front if you wanted to. So you do. He helps secure your seat belt since you weren’t doing it quite right.

“Sorry. I’ve never used a seat belt before.”

“Never?” He asks as he maneuvers the car around the parking lot.

“Never.”

He stops, waiting for a chance to safely enter the street and takes that moment to glance at you from the corner of his eye. “You can open the window, if you want.”

Your ears perk up, pushing the beanie off of your head and onto your lap. Aki tells you which button to press and soon enough, your window was all the way down.

“Thank you, Aki.”

He nods, making a noise of acknowledgment as he turned the car onto the street. You stuck your head out the window to feel the wind whipping at your grinning face. And as Aki drove the two of you to his home, he had a feeling that he wouldn’t mind getting used to this.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

(genderly) chill as hell if i was only ever glimpsed / detected like this

[ria-starstruck]

ur honor they are literally fucked up little foils of each other

thumbnails of ideas i was having for very fancy pieces under the cut! we’ll see if i get around to actually finishing any of them

[wayfinderships]

Good morning gamers! Hope you're doing well!! As for me, I'd like to apologize to the Y.akuza series for buying the three of its games months ago and still not touching them😔

[thekidsare-not-alright]

whoa whoa whoa. I don't know when exactly it is but I think my 10 year anniversary of being a fall out boy fan is coming up. oh my god

[afkintheark]

I am growing addicted to photo mode. XD

Aras started the Higher Max Level event so I went looking for yutis since raising ours has reminded me that they kinda stink. Found this 154 boy who tamed up with 41 health and 53 melee, so I think we're good now. >.>

Went running (well, flapping) through the swamp for a bit after and upgraded our deinosuchus, so we're gonna have to breed them all over again, oops. But we have colors now finally. XD

And I took another ocean trip and found TWO alpha mosas, so Megabyte got a major test. She killed them both no problem, so I think she's proven her worth now. \o/

The best normal mosa I could find was a 110 female, I went ahead and grabbed her but will keep looking for better. And I got her and the boys out at home for a pic, that's Moby with the saddle, Seadragon in the middle, and unnamed New Girl at the end.

[kkoraki]

bro... u know it was a mistake to offer to beta an irl friend's original writing when you give them your notes & instead of taking the notes off on their own & implementing the ones they find constructive & trashing the ones they don't, they write you a long letter back explaining at length why they did all those things you offered notes about as if they think u are trying to get in a debate rather than to beta read

[astralibrary]

another year another silan portrait babey.... a few days late this time but we still ballin'

i've been very into manga cover design lately (studying them, making my own, etc) so it only felt right to incorporate that into this year's portrait, right? and go way overboard designing the entire front, back and spine including a blurb and barcodes and retail/publishing info, right?? and then go all in on making a matching japanese version with its own alternative blurb and barcode area bc u can't have one without the other, right?? obviously!!!!

like i said i've been really into manga design-

thoughts & details belooow

funnily enough this ended up being an actual portrait again after i did away with them in favor of illustrations in recent years, but ig it's fitting since this is the 10th one, right? (more on that later i wrote this out of order-) a callback to the first one all those years ago... the other reason it's a portrait is bc art has been fighting back lately and a full illustration probably would have been a lot; most importantly tho i just thought this composition would make for a cool dramatic manga cover heh heh

anyway bro the impossible happened i fully rendered flowers AND completed the portrait this year hello??? this has never happened since the v first year wait i just checked it happened in 2019 too this has not happened since 2019 wowie!!!! i put my whole ass into those flowers pls observe them (except the tall purple ones don't look too closely at those. look at the pansies they're my fave ♥️)

this year we have morning glories taking center stage, surrounded by pansies, forget-me-nots, some kind of nondescript purple perennial or perhaps lavender, and some kind of pink blossom (idk that one was just a space filler). don't ask abt the random petals on his mouth & collarbone uhh theres some kind of flowering tree growing just offscreen it's possible

anyway the morning glories are significant bc they represent sythra, silan's twin sister; in my mind her colors are blue & yellow and it seemed like such a good fit, so i'm officially adding it to the Flower Lore (there is no flower lore)

there is, however, Twin Lore; silan's eyes are brown and sythra's are blue, but when they're telepathically linked their left eyes exchange color (so silan's becomes blue & vice versa). the flowers here are meant to represent that, like sythra isn't here but at the same time silan carries her with him wherever he goes... smth like that

the plot described in the blurb is like, sort of what happens but i simplified things for the sake of a neat little fake manga blurb. nobody asked me to do this yet here we are. if i were being realistic abt it this would probs be like vol 2 BUT i made it the 10th volume bc this is?? the 10th silan portrait??? i did the first one in 2014?? hello??? time is fake (my hc is that it's a slice of life club manga about flower pressing for the first 9 volumes but it pivots hard in vol 10 bc the author got so sick of drawing flowers no i am not projecting-)

now regarding the japanese version: i tried my best*

*(if u or a loved one know japanese ur not allowed to make fun of me ok orz i used 姉妹 bc theres no way for silan & sythra to know who's the older twin & idk what u would do in that situation like do u just pick one & go w it or is there another hierarchy-neutral word for sister, 姉妹 is the best i can do w my limited knowledge and even then it probably just sounds like silan is having twin girls which like good for him but even so if i sound like a dork keep it to urself ok but actually do tell me if u know bc i would like to Learn ik this is probably the least of my worries when it comes to that entire paragraph but rn we are just going to focus on the issues i know about and pretend that everything else is fine as is ok thank u for ur time & have a lovely day ur a star ⭐️)

misc fun facts aka u learn how unhinged i was abt this:

the title is May 16th bc that's just what silan's story has always been called. luckily i have that up my sleeve or i'd have had to come up w smth out of my ass like The Silan Portrait or some shit

the author and publishing company are both called astralibrary yes that's me (it has a nice ring to it as a manga publisher name don't u think). i made up the logo on the spot it's my best work. especially the one in the bottom right of the japanese bar code area where i just typed the name and put a star next to it bc that makes it look professional somehow

i stole borrowed the barcodes from existing manga i have good pics of (bc i have an entire folder in my gallery dedicated to manga covers & jpn typography, unrelated); the english one is hanako-kun vol 4, and the japanese one is after the rain vol 10. i changed all the numerical codes tho (variations on the date 5/16 repeating)

i made up the english prices but i picked ¥640 specifically bc that's the price of the natsuyuu volumes i have in my manga covers folder, my only possible point of reference,

rated teen even tho in my mind it'd be targeted more towards young adults; it doesn't have anything in it that would warrant a mature rating but it does feel strange to categorize it in this way even knowing these ratings don't necessarily dictate the target audience

i thought about messing around w the design of the japanese version more to reflect some of the design sensibilities i've observed in japanese manga, like different placement of the text on the cover or a different spine entirely (since they tend to differ a lot between jpn and eng versions)- i even thought about trying to design an obi (long strip of paper that wraps all the way around the bottom portion of the book, usually has announcements & promotional stuff on it), but that is a whole ass project for another day i think this'll do just fine for now skdjlfkdg

and there u have it, thank u for reading my yearly essay abt drawing i did! sometimes u need to go aaaaaa about smth u drew and that's ok 👌

---

edit: oh yea i forgor i should write transcriptions of the blurbs here we go

ENGLISH

Alone with his thoughts? Not necessarily...

Silan has finally discovered the source of the mysterious voice in his head- the long lost twin sister he never knew he had...?! She calls herself Sythra and she has a serious grudge against him- but they need each other in order to uncover the hidden truths about their past.

Why didn't they know about each other? How were they separated? Why can they hear each other's thoughts?

And... What else don't they know?

-

JAPANESE

双子の姉妹がいる⁉︎

サイランは頭の中の声の衝撃的な正体を知るーーどうやら双子の姉妹がいるらしい⁉︎しかも、なぜか嫌われているようで…頑張れ、サイラン！

どういうわけか、この二人は謎に満ちた過去の答えを一緒に見つけるでしょう。

なぜお互いのことを知らなかったのか？どのようにして離れ離れになったのか？なぜお互いの考えを聞くことができるのか？そして…他に知らないことは…？

待望の第10巻がついに登場！

INTENDED TRANSLATION:

I have a twin sister?!

Silan learns the shocking identity of the voice inside his head- apparently he has a twin sister?! And what's more, for some reason she seems to hate him... Hang in there, Silan!

Somehow, these two will find the answers to their mysterious past together.

Why didn't they know about each other? How did they get separated? Why can they hear each other's thoughts?And...what else do they not know...?

The long-awaited 10th volume is finally here!

[beneggolent]

No matter what Terrako thinks, you're valid for this, @mightiestbanana.

" So, uh. . . " Master Kohga crouches before the little Guardian, his body language all but suggesting he’s on guard and more than a little hesitant about this whole ordeal. " You’re NOT gonna just start absorbing me and my guys’ souls out of the blue ? " Sure, it wasn’t possessed by Calamity Ganon, but one could never be so sure in these weird times— " Cuz I’ve got my eye on you ! " he motions to his mask with a thumb before jabbing towards the other’s glowy eye thing.

     Terrako's not going to do what? They swat the finger thrust at their optic away with a sharp chirp, lid-top huffing all the way up in tetchy code. Don't be concept://stupid! Of course they're not going to start absorbing any fleshy organic's soul — much less the Yiga Clan's — out of the blue! If they could do that, don't you think they would've done it hundreds of times over already with every single threat Zelda's faced?!

     And really, the sentiment is very mutual. He and his people might've gotten concept://totally fucked over by the Calamity too, but that has yet to amount to something deserving of Terrako's full confidence in their ability to ensure Zelda's survival-then-so-longevity-then-so-happiness. It skitters a circle around the Yiga, pointedly leaning forwards to emphasise its watchful stare as it drones the lowest tone its voice-synth will reach.

     It's forty-two percent convinced he'd sooner retreat or turn his blade on them again under lightly applied pressure — you'd better prove it wrong, Master Kohga!