#Your first priority should always be commitment to the bit.

[quicksilverlightning]

It’s a game… it’s all a game and someone is watching.

It’s such a bizarrely easy conclusion to come to, yet no one is picking up the clues. He had thought the detective at least would catch on, but Saihara remains bafflingly obtuse, no matter how many arrows he carefully drops to point in the right direction. At this rate, he’s going to have to ditch any pretense at subtlety and outright tell the idiots what’s going on.

Kokichi scoffs to himself and shoves his hands in his pockets. Right, as though anyone would believe the answer if it came from him; he may as well change his name to Cassandra. No, they have to puzzle it out themselves, or all his effort will be worthless. He’s burned too much goodwill building this persona to discard it like an old hat - besides, if the rest of the class can’t see what’s right in front of them, then perhaps they don’t deserve the benefits of his intelligence.

That’s a lie of course - he’ll help however he can. But it will always be on his own terms; Kokichi has a lot of cards in his arsenal, and the horse is already nestled deep into the heart of Troy. He kicks at a loose piece of gravel and smirks, needle-sharp, wondering what the audience will read into his expression.

He hopes it’s something interesting

[ardenrosegarden]

Amnesia is a comedy, actually.

[kaienmaru]

@landofsamurai @braveryhearted joui4

[im-still-a-robot]

More dnd posting

[jubilee40]

Can you please do relationship HCs for the jjk men? Ups and downs of being their partner lol

The Pros & Cons of Dating JJK Men ~ Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Toji, Sukuna, and Choso

📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿

Characters: Satoru Gojo, Kento Nanami, Suguru Geto, Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna, and Choso

Warnings: Small Angst(?)

📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿

Satoru Gojo

Pros:

Satoru’s love language is touch, whether it's holding hands, grabbing your butt, or a kiss, Saturo can't help but have the need to touch and hold you when you are near.

Will always hype you up with anything you are doing, whether you're going out for a girl’s night or have an important work presentation, Saturo is here for you.

Satoru is committed to your relationship once the two of you are official, you are his number 1 priority besides his students.

Sexy time with your Satoru always leaves you overstimulated and exhausted. Becomes completely pussy-drunk as soon as he sees your glistening pussy.

Cons:

I personally don't see a lot of cons with being Satoru except that he can be an attention whore & has a flirty personality in general.

He may see himself as a loyal person who is 1000% dedicated to his S/O but you don't sometimes which feeds into your insecurities and causes unnecessary distance between the two of you.

Kento Nanami

Pros:

Kento is a true gentleman when it comes to his romantic partner. He's serious about respecting your boundaries and not doing anything intimate you aren't comfortable with.

He doesn't think of himself as a romantic but his actions say otherwise. Private dinners at high-class restaurants or a quiet picnic in the park, Kento will make sure everything is perfect.

Kento isn’t with you just for you to stay his girlfriend, he sees you as his future wife to whom he plans to propose to after 2 years of being together.

In bed, Kento Nanami is surprisingly (not) very expressive in the bedroom. He isn't afraid to slap or degrade you after he has your consent naturally.

Cons:

Kento has a set timeline of what he plans his romantic life to be life, which leaves you feeling a bit of pressure to follow it and weirded out that he has this planned out.

He can be too focused on working to take care of his future with you that he ends up leaving you feeling neglected as times.

Suguru Geto

Pros:

Suguru spoils you with praise and affirmations of his love. Enjoys seeing your cheeks redden with each confession of his love he gives you.

He’s protective, not possessive with you. Suguru understands that you need freedom but that doesn't stop him from wrapping his arms around you after seeing a pathetic male ogle you.

Suguru is completely secure with your relationship and knows you are too.

Sex with him is either gentle and poetic or downright nasty and sweaty.

Cons:

A major relationship con I can see with Suguru Geto is his arrogance. He would think he knows more than you do and believes you should just shut up and listen.

His sarcasm can also be something that you struggle with. Even though he doesn't mean to hurt your feelings you can't help but feel upset at his tone and response.

Toji Fushiguro

Pros:

Your relationship with Toji started off as friends-with-benefits that turned into the two of you dating without ever making it official.

Toji loves to grab your ass or tit randomly, leaving a blushing mess and telling him to stop.

He isn't great at communicating how he cares about you so he ends up buying you food and clothes (mostly lingerie) thinking you'll understand his intentions.

Since you and Toji were fwb first he knows what parts of your body to pay attention to have you creaming around his cock. Was a selfish lover at first but now loves seeing the tears run down your face from continuous overstimulation.

Cons:

Let's be real there are more cons to being in a relationship with Toji Fushigoro than pros, but I still love him.

He's horrible with money and will spend all his money on a boat race if he has a “lucky feeling”.

Toji may be committed and love you that doesn't stop him from knowingly flirting with other women, not to the point of cheating but just enough to boost his ego.

Ryomen Sukuna

Pros:

A pro to dating Ryomen is that if he's committed to you, he's COMMITTED to you. Wanna break up/divorce? Too bad.

Ryomen is extremely protective and possessive, not controlling but will have everyone know you're his girl.

Not really into PDA, besides having an arm around you or having his hand resting on your inner thigh. But when the two are you are home Ryomen is leaving hickeys and bite marks all over you.

Ryomen Sukuna is merciless in bed. You have 3 safe words letting him know if it's okay to keep going or if you need a break.

Cons:

Arrogance. At first, you didn't mind his arrogant attitude but now it pisses you off.

Ryomen loves teasing and “bullying” you, what you see is him being an ass, he sees it as flirting.

He sees you as his woman and his property who should bend to his will.

Choso

Pros:

Being Choso’s S/O has you feeling adored and appreciated. He truly falls hard for you.

Is a cuddle monster when the two of you are home. Your embrace is a true comfort for him.

100% loyal to you, Choso barely socializes with anyone besides you and his little brother.

In my opinion, I see Choso as a sub or switch. He prefers to be pegged and taken care of since he always looked after his younger brothers.

Cons:

You are not at the top of his list, his last living younger brother is his number one concern.

Since he isn't a big extrovert, Choso is fine with staying home which can be tiring after the fifth date in a row is a at home movie night.

~Taglist~

@samanthathesonicfan @pradaandlucifer @gojo-enthusiast @breely1284 @fiona782 @mrsgangorca @myfireangel09 @missroro @ohgosh0777 @Miss-Uzumaki @straymoon96 @melody13522 @itzgabz22 @jaselynorwhatever @savantsoulfinders @qtahmark @roseqzpd @innerghiblisoul @lovingsecret @0lissa0 @ike-bana @nycvalntyne @im-the-music-whore @kristaline2dmensimp @moonlittle03 @kurookinnie @renster05 @ifu-sayso

[kaienmaru]

“why are you running? why are you running??”

Gin, trying to run away from Sakamoto.

[temis-de-leon]

Dateables as Single Fathers

Characters: Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon and Simeon, gn!kid, Luke and gn!MC

Part 1

Main Masterlist

CW: nothing, I think? Correct me if you feel something should be warned, but I think we're good to go. Just like in the other one, these HCs explain the characters' relationships with their kids and a romantic interest in MC at the end.

.

Diavolo

This one has to be the most difficult situation out of all, considering his political position.

He either had a child outside of marriage, who I think would’ve been considered a bastard, or he had the next heir with his wife, who would’ve eventually become the queen of the Devildom beside him.

No matter the option, each one would have had significant consequences.

Fortunately for his country, he’s too respectful and responsible to fool around and risk the chance of leaving his offspring behind, so political marriage it is.

I already used the ‘mother died in childbirth’ reason for Lucifer’s HCs, but I can’t see any other explanation for Diavolo being a single father. Both of them would be loyal and committed to their partners and Diavolo has the additional duty of keeping a kingdom going.

Now, we could do some AUs that could explain the future queen’s absence, but that isn’t what this post is about, so let’s leave it at that.

In the end, Diavolo is left with a child that is deeply loved and well taken care of.

I think Beautiful Boy by John Lennon would describe their relationship perfectly.

Loving his kid is not his only priority; raising him is also as important. He’s a caring parent, very attentive, protective and stern when necessary.

Diavolo is too aware of their duties as royals and future monarchs but tries not to act on them. Since he is already preparing himself to become king, there’s no need for his kid to lose their freedom and their childhood.

However, as occupied as he is, he tries to put his work on hold each time the child calls for his attention. They drew themselves with him and Barbatos? Okay, let him set these documents aside so he can admire the drawing properly. They saw a cool bug outside? Say no more, he needs a break anyway. They had a nightmare? Maybe they should have a sleepover!

The kid just needs to be careful not to do many of those things in front of Barbatos. Otherwise, the butler would chastise both.

He’s highly proud of them when they dive into a friendship with you; seeing their eagerness and comfortability around your presence as a sign for keeping the student exchange program going.

Still, he finds the need to have a somewhat serious conversation with them about you, your purpose in the Devildom and your status as a human; the imbalance in power and biology that makes you both so different.

As time passes and his own friendship with you deepens, so do his feelings. He isn’t obvious about it, or at least he tries, but his kid inherited his observation skills and soon innocent suggestive comments are trailing behind him everywhere he goes.

The situation amuses him and makes his heart flutter with enthusiasm.

With encouragement like this, how could he not try to pursue you?

Barbatos

I like to think there’s some kind of errand boy roaming around the castle. Not necessarily a boy, but still a child doing a little bit of everything and helping whoever gives an order. They’re quick and cheeky, making the staff cheerier and less stressed about their chores, and Barbatos finds them surprisingly charming.

He doesn’t mind them running between his legs as long as they know when to stop and don’t hinder his work and, unlike the little Ds, that turns out to be what happens.

Barbatos tries not to get attached at first and a long time passes until he can’t deny the affection he feels for the little devil.

When I say long, I mean long.

Decades, even a couple of centuries, unable to ignore the lack of parental presence in the child’s life. They’re always in the castle, going from one point to another, talking to everyone and sticking to no one. The few moments they have to rest are spent with the prince’s butler, talking about their day with breathless excitement.

It’s a nice dynamic that Barbatos enjoys more and more with each passing day, but it isn’t until the rest of the staff informs him of every little thing the kid does that he finally realizes how deep he has fallen into the rabbit hole.

He is a father figure.

Again.

He isn’t complaining, not at all, but it still surprises him.

More time passes until he gathers the courage to ask Lord Diavolo for a room inside the castle for the child to sleep in. His cheeks are warm when he specifies he’d prefer if the room were close to his and the embarrassment only grows when the prince laughs out loud with excitement.

By the time you are introduced as the second human exchange student, everyone treats the kid as Barbatos’s and they even call him ‘father’ when they’re alone. Neither are ashamed of their mutual affection, but they’d rather keep it private.

The child likes to tease you harmlessly, joking around, asking pertinent questions under the disguise of childish innocence and appearing out of nowhere when you least expect it.

They won’t mind if you lightly reprimand them for their constant playful behaviour, that’s what their father does after all, but they’ll quickly love you if you joke back.

Either way, he likes to follow you around and Barbatos instantly notices. It piques his curiosity and warms his heart, but with how highly the child talks about you and how much you captivate him on your own, he starts to wonder if he should’ve pulled the kid away from you since the beginning.

His strong feelings for you are foreign, but not unwelcomed. He’s just too vigilant of all the possible outcomes.

Fortunately for you, for every doubt Barbatos has about these feelings, the child has a dozen reasons to make them stronger.

Solomon

How many wives did King Solomon have again? How many concubines? How many children out of all of those partners?

I’m not saying that any of those children succeeded in achieving immortality like him, I doubt that could’ve happened so early in his life, but outliving human partners doesn’t mean that Solomon chose to refuse to have any more partners at all.

I can see him entering a relationship with someone who has a longer lifespan and, regardless of that arrangement being casual or committed, having a child with them.

Maybe the other parent passed away, maybe they didn’t want to be in a relationship, maybe they tried and failed to stay together… who knows, you can choose your favourite. The conclusion here is that Solomon kept the child and raised them alone.

Feral child vibes, I fear.

As devious as their father and completely oblivious to it, they are too curious for their own good. Exploration and experimentation through trial and error are fairly common practices in the family and the only reason Solomon isn’t worried is because he’s sure nothing wrong will happen as long as he is there.

The kid may appear at the front door of their house with an eldritch horror-looking creature and Solomon would be like: ‘You’re doing amazing, sweetie’.

He knows introducing his child to a human infant is not the best of ideas. They would have to move places constantly due to their slow ageing to not raise suspicion and that would be completely unfair to the kid. They’re allowed to have permanent friends their age, after all, not a playmate turned into a babysitter or faceless companions that would disappear in their memories over time.

So they mostly engage with other immortal beings, like witches, demons and fellow sorcerers.

That saddens Solomon in a way; the human part he passed to his child is slowly dying due to lack of interaction.

This is why the human exchange program Diavolo proposes is so interesting to him.

Not only is he going to meet one of his kind in a world he easily moves around, but his child is also going to get the opportunity to be with another human in an environment they feel comfortable in.

It goes as well as you could expect.

Both of them are curious and eager to meet you, but at the beginning of your friendship it feels more like academic research. You stick to the brothers and their antics and they stick to the angels and their kindness.

If Luke is a Chihuahua, then Solomon’s kid is a thirteen-year-old delirious Yorkie.

As time passes and your friendship develops into something more genuine, Solomon can’t help but feel like he’s finally breathing fresh air after being locked in a cave for years.

His child still explores their surroundings, but there’s a new hope in their actions that he knows doesn’t come from him. It’s true childlike wonder and care towards their subject of study. An appreciation of life only a mortal would express.

You don’t understand how much you changed his child’s life.

And you don’t understand how much he loves you for it.

Simeon

I mean.

Luke.

He already is a single father in canon.

I don’t know how angels are born in the game, but they do grow up. Maybe Luke just spawned and was put under Simeon’s direct care, but there isn’t any mention of other parental figures in Luke’s life back in the Celestial Realm (although that may be due to the game being lazy with lore).

We know Michael is Luke’s hero, but not a father figure, so Simeon as a single father makes total sense.

A single mom who works two jobs and loves her kids and never stops.

Jk, jk…

But for real, though.

Simeon is thoughtful, affectionate, careful with Luke’s emotions and conscious about his need to mature and grow up. He treats him like a child, because that’s what he is, but tries not to infantilize him to not hurt his dignity.

While proud of Luke’s morals and golden heart, Simeon wants to make him see not everything is black and white and he’s allowed to have opinions that can differ from what they’ve been taught.

Some demons are good, some humans are consciously devious and some angels need to reevaluate their priorities.

It is a difficult task since Luke is certainly stubborn, but spending time in the Devildom is the perfect opportunity to prove that point.

Thankfully, your presence only helps Simeon change Luke’s judgemental thoughts. You are patient, easy-going and lighthearted and don’t get too stressed when the young angel refuses to reject his views on demons.

They both enjoy spending time with you because your soul is still kind and free of punishment, but for Simeon is much more than that.

He enjoys being with you because it feels natural and because knowing you feels like the greatest gift he has received in a very long time.

Believe him, Luke’s praises about you have nothing to do with the love he has for you. Those are just an additional bonus.

.

.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010  @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom

[eternalholygirl]

School Tips

A few school tips for christians from me to you <3

• Read your Bible before school

Personally, I always feel better after reading my Bible. It feels like I’m a little bit stronger than before, especially mentally. I’m a lot more motivated for school if I read the Bible beforehand.

• Pray

Pray if you have an exam coming up. Pray if you struggle in school. Pray if you’re being bullied. Pray if you have a mean teacher. Pray if anything about school stresses you. Also pray if you don’t have problems in school. Generally, just pray. God will listen.

• Be nice to everyone

Ephesians 4:32 - Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.

Just be nice to everyone, even if they’re not nice to you, and even if you don’t like them. If you have a mean teacher, be nice to them. If you got mean classmates, forgive and be nice to them. Offer to help people. Put others above yourself, but remember that you are important too!

• Eat a healthy breakfast

Whether you’re a Christian or not, you should make sure to take care of yourself! And don’t forget to thank God before eating<3

• Surround yourself with good people

Especially if the year is just starting, make sure not to befriend anyone just for the sake of not being alone. Be nice to everyone, but surround yourself with people who are good for you. People who support you and are nice to you like you are to them. And if you can’t find the exactly right people, of course you can hang out with others, but make sure not to follow them, especially if that would make you commit sins. Always keep the lord your first priority.

Remember:

1. God will always help you when you need it!

2. You can do it, even in times where school is tough, do not give up!

3. Work hard, but do not put your grades over your own mental and physical health. Grades don’t go to heaven.

4. You don’t have to be in a romantic relationship to enjoy school. So don’t look for one. God will send you the right person when it’s time.

5. Never think that you have to fit in, being different is a good thing!

Commit your work to the Lord, and your plans will be established.

Proverbs 16:3

[rq-producerperson]

Hello!

Basic question: any tips for getting into a career involved with creative stuff? (Anything, but specifically audio design and writing.)

Additional information about my specific situation I suppose: I'm heading into my second year of college, and have been working towards getting my degree in anthropology with the hope of going into artifact preservation/restoration. However that's kind of always been a... Second priority, I suppose, as I've always wanted to make a living off of my writing, but assumed that even if that was really possible, I should get a degree in something else.

Last year at school I was working as a stage tech for the college of the arts there (mainly for concerts, not theatre), and I loved it a ton and genuinely wouldn't mind a career in that vein.

The last three months I've been working a shitty assembly line job (9 hour days in a windowless room doing the same thing over and over and over and-). The only plus side to it is I've had plenty of time to listen to stuff, and I've gotten really into Magnus. The Q&A episodes and things like that made me realize that there are other things I could do (and love) in a creative vein than just writing. I'd also never considered that my enjoyment of doing tech for live stuff might translate outside of that, but I really genuinely think it would.

So next year I'm taking a bit of a jump and I'm going to be taking some of the introductory journalism courses at my school. (There's a film and media production emphasis under the major with plenty of room for more fiction-oriented work. And then grad school is something I've been seriously considering since I learned the word anthropology, so that's still very on the table if I choose to pursue this.)

This has been a really big switch for me, and quite frankly I'm terrified of getting stuck at a job like the one I currently have for the rest of my life, with a creative degree just rotting in the corner. (At least with anthropology there would probably be another five+ years of school after undergrad, so that was less of a looming issue.)

Just... Any advice on getting my foot in the door? Especially with hopes of eventually moving out of the states?

Sorry for such a long ask, I'm very bad at being brief. :p

Thank you!

Heya, thanks for the Ask. I’ve had this one sitting for a while thinking of the best way to answer, because the truth is that life is variable so I struggle to give what I feel is meaningful advice when the landscape is always shifting.

However, I’ll do my best with what I know.

The keys that I think are best are Patience, Perseverance, and People.

First, Patience.

I’ve mentioned this a few times but it’s important to remember, life changes quickly and the creative market is constantly shifting. Being able to pursue a job in the creative industry means having the patience to wait for the right wave to paddle to, the right gust to lift you up. But like with nature, there is never a guarantee that the winds or tides of fate will flow your way. There’s an element of chance to it.

You have to be prepared to change and take chances when you feel they are right for you. Shoot out before you’re comfortable and you’ll sink, wait too long and you’ll miss a great wave. I can’t give an answer to when is best to know your ready or what the right chance is to take. I CAN however advise that waiting, watching, and learning is the best chance to take that shot. So, learn as much as you can and stay curious and adaptable.

Second, Perseverance

When you have decided a path to trod, a wave to ride. You commit. Know how to move with the current and keep your focus. It’s easy to keep laying out options, but when you have found that Moment that’s right for you to act on your chosen course, you can go in half way.

Before RQ and during the first half of my employment here I was always working two jobs. I’ve done retail, freelance, post graduate work, office administration, accounting, entertainment hosting, you name it. I was an office assistant when I started at RQ but quickly knew that even though I couldn’t make money with it (it was still just Alex in a Yurt at that time), I wanted to commit to it, to make that job the best thing I could do, and I kept a simple day job to make ends meet. I got lucky, I found a mentor who taught me how to advocate for myself and that I had a creative voice after spending years being beaten down. But I also had the conviction and perseverance to know there was something worth building on.

And we did that together.

Which brings me to my last point, People.

You hear a lot in the creative industry that it’s “about Who you Know” and that’s true, but not entirely in the way you think. Learn about people, what their strengths are, how they compliment each other. Surround yourself with likeminded people that want to attain the same goal, have the same passions. Breaking through the creative industry cannot be done in a vacuum. Always make sure you have a support network of other passionate, skilled, and dedicated humans.

Don’t know how to meet people? I bet you do more than you think. Fandom was my in, not just from shooting my shot, but for teaching me how to work creatively with others. (I still try to do art companion work with fanfic writers when I can)

So yea, maybe it’s a standard answer or underwhelming, but the truth is there is no magic key. There’s Skill, Luck, Determination, and Community that make these kind of jobs possible.

[avastrasposts]

The Pilot and his girl - ch. 7 **

You might want to put aside some time for this, I somehow managed to write 10k...and the second half is like all smut, almost.

Took me a while to get this out, it was kinda meant to be a filler chapter but then I wanted to add more so I ended up moving things around in the story line so now we've got this one. Next chapter will see their relationship move forward with leaps and bounds and then we get into the really juicy bits!

Please enjoy and if you do, please reblog so that more people see the fic, I'll love you always if you do

If wanna catch up from the beginning, here is chapter 1 of The Pilot and his girl

Chapter 8

Tag list: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer

Sometimes you think back on other guys you’ve dated. The guy who wanted to be able to call you up whenever he wanted sex and always got mad when you weren’t around to supply, the college guy who never wanted to touch you in public, the older guy who ‘forgot’ to mention his wife and two year old son, the guy who cheated on you and then messaged all your friends and told them he’d dumped you because you’d cheated on him with his boss. And that didn’t even cover all the ‘normal’ guys who just wanted to play the game, date and have sex but never commit or say what they actually felt or introduce you to their friends or family. 

And then there was Frankie Morales. Sweet, loving, loyal Frankie who never seemed to hide what he was thinking or wanted to play games. Who never made it difficult or made you guess what he felt or what his intentions were. He was just always happy to be with you, to see you and to let the world around you know that he belonged to you and no one else. Who would kiss you in public just because he felt like it, took your hand as soon as you were near, and never hesitated to include you in his plans. Being with Frankie was easy and you finally started to understand that dating someone shouldn’t be non-stop drama, it should be easy and that’s how you knew it was right. 

And Frankie slipped into your life as easily as he let you slip into his. After your first few dates he made it clear that he would happily spend as much time as he could with you, the only other priority in his life being his daughter and you happily took a back seat to her. Frankie was always a bit low when he came back from seeing her, or she’d spent a weekend with him, his guilty conscience about not seeing her enough always on his mind. But he was also full of stories about her, his eyes beaming, a wide, proud, smile on his face, as he told you about what they’d done, the things she’d said and how much she’d grown or what new skills she’d learnt. She was the centre of his universe and you didn’t mind, she grounded him and made him happy and a better man. Both for her and for you. 

When Frankie wasn’t working or went to see Lucía, your weekends were spent mostly in each other’s company. He’d pick you up on Friday evening and take you out ‘properly’, as he said. He’d show up in his truck, freshly showered after work and in a clean shirt. If he’d ditched the cap you knew he’d made plans for a more upscale restaurant. If the cap was firmly pressed down over his, still very, unruly curls, you knew he was taking you on one of his special Frankie dates. 

The first time you’d expected maybe a cool food truck or local BBQ place when he said he’d made ‘special plans’, your expectations from previous guys were not exactly high. But instead he’d taken you to a secluded spot up on a hill, parking the truck and walking with you through the forest on a small path until the trees fell away to a cliff overlooking a lake. Stuck into the ground was a small sign that read “Reserved - Morales” that made you giggle at the thought that he’d hiked up here earlier, just to place the sign. Frankie had then produced a thick blanket from his backpack, a lantern, a camping stove, various containers and bottles and proceeded to cook you dinner while the sun set behind the forest on the other side of the lake. When dinner was done with, and you’d expressed your deep astonishment at how romantic he was, Frankie blushing to the tips of his ears, he’d wrapped you both in the blanket and leaned back against a rock with you tucked in against his chest. 

“You’re setting the bar very high for all the other guys, Francisco Morales,” you hum as you feel the cool tip of his nose brush against your cheek. 

“What other guys, hermosa?” he mutters, lightly kissing the tip of your ear. 

“All the other guys in general,” you lean into his warm lips skating along your neck, “once word gets out this is how Frankie Morales treats women, who’s gonna want a regular guy?” 

Frankie chuckles quietly, his rich, warm voice close to your ear. “I don’t treat women like this, only you, solo tu hermosa mujer.

“See, there you go again, setting the bar impossibly high,” you smile and push your fingers into the curls at the back of his neck, scratching his scalp and drawing a soft moan from him. 

When the night became too cold even for the blanket and the Frankie shaped furnace at your back, he’d held your hand as you walked back, his powerful torch shining the way through the pitch black forest. At any other time the thought of walking through a dark forest would’ve made you slightly panicky, but with Frankie’s warm hand in yours and his broad shoulders in front of you as he easily navigated the path back to his truck, you felt as safe as you did at home in your bed. 

It was easy, being with Frankie was the easiest thing of them all. 

…

You woke up with a groan on Sunday morning, six weeks or so into dating Frankie. You’d been out the night before with friends and now you were paying the price; dry mouth, headache and that horrible shaky feeling as you moved your limbs. You were definitely never, ever drinking again. You were in Frankie’s bed but he was absent so with a groan you pushed the covers aside and sat up carefully. 

As you sat on the side of the bed, contemplating death, you heard Frankie’s bare feet coming down the hall, pushing open the door. 

“Morning, my little ‘I’m not drunk’ girl,” he smiled, far too cheerful and you groaned again and fell back into bed, pulling the covers with you as Frankie chuckled. 

“Just stay in bed, hermosa, I’ll get you some water and coffee, and breakfast whenever you feel up for it.” 

“Thank you,” you mumble from under the covers. 

“Anything for you, I love you,” he says as he bends and kisses the covers over your head. 

Oh yeah, you said that last night too.

…

Towards the end of your night you’d met up with Frankie and his friends at a bar. Your friends  were heading home, and you probably should’ve done the same, but you wanted to see Frankie and you’d promised to call him before you went home. He was the designated driver for the evening, as most evenings. Frankie didn’t like tempting fate with too much alcohol after he got clean from the coke. 

“Mi hermosa, hi,” came his warm, smiling voice over the phone when he picked up, and you immediately heard someone shush loudly in the background. 

“Sssshhhhh, everyone, ssssshhhhh, it’s the girlfriend, sssshhhhh!” The drunken voice of Benny was easily recognisable in the background.  

“Hi Frankie boy,” you cooed, definitely a little bit more than tipsy, “and hi Benny,” you giggled. 

“Tell her to come here,” Benny’s voice was suddenly very close, “I need her as my wing woman!”

“Benny, for fuck’s sake!” It sounded like Frankie had to pull his phone away from his friend as he shuffled away from the table they were all at, chairs scraping across a floor. 

“Sounds like Benny’s a little bit drunk, baby,” you give him a tipsy giggled again. 

“Sounds like you’re a little bit drunk too, cariño,” Frankie chuckles. “Do you wanna come over, we’re at the usual place.” 

“Only if you want me to, I don’t want to crash boy’s night.”

“You should definitely come over, I wanna see you this drunk,” he laughs as you protest and claim to be only slightly tipsy. “Get yourself in an Uber, and send me the details so I know when you get here.” 

“Ok, Frankie boy, always so responsible,” you pout and give him a salute before you remember he can’t actually see you through the phone. 

“Just be safe, hermosa,” he smiles before he hangs up. 

He’s waiting outside for you when the Uber pulls up, opening the door of the car and giving you a hand as you step out. 

“Hi sweetie,” you purr, wrapping your arms around his neck, stumbling slightly on the curb, as Frankie catches you around the middle. 

“Hey there, not drunk girl,” he smiles down at you and accepts your wet kiss to his lips with a chuckle. “How’s your night been?” 

“S’been good, everybody came, even Hannah who always cancels because her kids are sick.” you say as Frankie guides you towards the door of the bar. “And we got free drinks from a bunch of guys who were trying to hit on us, but their loss, because we’re all taken,” You pull him close and place a kiss on his cheek, “You’re my Frankie boy.”  

“Did you accept their drinks?” Frankie’s got a worried look in his eyes that you don’t notice as you shrug your jacket off as the heat of the room hits you.” 

“Yeah, sure! It was free drinks. It’s not like they were gonna get anything in return.” 

“Cariño, you shouldn’t accept drinks from random men in bars, what if they slip something in it? You’ve got to be careful.” He’s got his arm around your waist, walking you towards the table where the guys are. 

“Wait,” you stop halfway across the bar, poking his chest with your finger, “you were gonna buy me a drink when we met, are you saying I shouldn’t have accepted that?” 

“Uh…I mean…” Frankie flounders, “technically, I guess, no?” 

“You’re so cute when you blush, sweet Francisco,” you gush, wrapping your arms around his neck again and standing on your toes to kiss the tip of his nose, “I know I shouldn’t accept drinks from random guys, baby. But free drinks!” you grin again and Frankie can’t help but chuckle when he sees your delighted grin. 

“My tipsy girl,” he smiles, “we should get some food in you.” 

“Nachos!” you exclaim as Frankie puts his hand on your back and ushers you towards the table and the guys again. 

Pope pulls you in for a bear hug as Frankie pulls out a chair for you, and Will gives you a grin from across the table. 

“Hey, there she is!” Benny whoops as you sink down on the chair, “My wing woman!” He attempts to high five you but you’re too focused on telling Frankie you want the biggest serving of nachos they’ve got, and Benny’s hand slaps down on your shoulder instead, making you jump. 

“Jeez, Benny, calm down,” Frankie scowls and knocks his hand off your shoulder. “I’m getting nachos for the drunk girl, anyone else want anything?” he asks. 

“Nachos and drinks, if you’re offering,” Pope says and Frankie nods, heading back towards the bar. 

“I’m really not drunk, just a little bit tipsy,” you tell the three guys as Frankie walks off. “He’s being very overprotective.” 

“I heard that,” Frankie calls from over his shoulder, making you giggle loudly and snort.

“Well, you’re in good company here,” Will nods at Benny who’s slightly red eyed appearance betrays that he’s by far the furthest one gone at the table. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Benny taps your arm excitedly, looking at a table towards the back of the bar, not paying attention to his brother, “Can you help me get that blonde over there? Like, walk over to her or something and tell her I’m great in bed and she should totally let me buy her a drink.” 

“What Benny?! No!” you protest, “I’m not lying to some poor woman, I don’t even know if you’re good in bed.” You give Benny a slightly unfocused once over, “Are you any good in bed?”  

“I’m totally good in bed!” he insists, “I’d prove it but you know…Fish would literally kill me dead.” 

“Ewww!” you exclaim, sending Pope and Will into a laughing fit as Benny blinks, trying to figure out if he should be insulted or not. “Sorry! That came out wrong!” you grab on to his arm, “I mean, you’re cute and all but just not my type, I like - “

“We know what you like,” Pope interrupts with a grin, “you like ‘em dark haired, brown eyed and tanned.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you as you snort out a laugh. 

“I mean, I can’t deny that, but I like my men taller and with less body hair, Santi,” you smirk and Pope tries to look insulted. 

“Ouch, going after my height, evil woman,” he huffs, but he’s still laughing. 

“You got the right one then,” Will chuckles, “Frankie’s got less body hair than a hairless cat.” 

“Why the fuck are you talking about my body hair?” Frankie says, coming back to the table, sending Benny and you into a laughing fit and Will just waving his hand. 

“Forget it man, not important.” 

Frankie raises his eyebrows and gives his head a slight shake as he sets down the nachos and drinks for the table, although you’re also getting a large glass of water. 

“Are you riling them up, cariño?” he asks, smiling down at you as you try to pull him down for a kiss that he willingly gives, your lips tasting of tequila and wine, oh, you’ll be hungover for sure in the morning. 

“I’m innocent,” you smirk, looking anything but and Frankie chuckles. 

“Move, baby, sit on my lap, there’s no extra chair.” 

You happily oblige, sitting sideways across Frankie’s lap, his warm arm around your waist, holding you tight. 

Nachos and beers are soon gone and Pope gets everyone a new round, getting Frankie a Coke that he tries to make you drink instead of the beer Pope got you, but not having much success. Benny’s trying his luck with the blonde across the room and Will and Pope decide to shoot some pool while you and Frankie watch from the table. Despite there being several empty chairs now you stay on Frankie’s lap, his legs are slowly falling asleep but he won’t make you move, he’s got you tight against his body, and your arm is draped across his shoulder, absentmindedly dragging your fingers through the curls around his neck at the edge of his cap. He hums contentedly as your nails scratch his scalp and you feel the rumble in his chest. Looking down you see his eyes slip closed, he always has trouble keeping them open when you play with his hair. He’s not asleep but his muscles relax and his head slumps forward, leaning against you. 

Gently you pull his cap off so that you can run your fingers through more of his hair, Frankie mutters his consent and you feel his fingers trace small circles on your back, warm through the thin fabric of your top. His soft curls slip under your fingers as you run them through his hair, the buzz of alcohol in your system making you sleepy, Frankie’s warm body making you feel safe and content. You bend down and press a kiss to the top of his head and with your lips still close to his hair it slips out.

“I love you.” 

Frankie’s eyes snap open and he pulls back from your chest, looking up at you, searching your eyes to see if you mean it or if you’re just too drunk. 

“What did you say, hermosa?” he asks softly as you look down at him, a small, uncertain smile on your lips. 

“I’m sorry…” you waver, “it just slipped out, it’s too soon and I’m drunk and it’s -” 

“I love you, I love you too,” Frankie interrupts, his heart threatening to jump out of his chest as he pulls your lips to his, “don’t be sorry,” he mumbles against your mouth, “I would’ve said it weeks ago if I had the guts.” 

His hand slips behind your neck, holding you to his lips, as you wrap your arms around him. His heart is racing, he can feel your smile against his mouth as you press yourself against him and it feels like millions of tiny bubbles are gathering inside his chest, pushing up through his throat and making him grin like a fool against your soft lips. The kiss turns sloppy as you both start to giggle, foreheads leaning together, you look into his warm, brown eyes that are crinkling at the corners. 

“I love you, Frankie,” you say, still smiling so wide you feel like your face is splitting but happy tears are threatening to spill out. The way Frankie is looking at you makes you feel like he just wrapped you up in a blanket, tucked you against his chest and enveloped you with his love, making you his axis point. 

“I love you too, hermosa,” he replies, “I love you so fucking much, I wanted to tell you when you took my hand after I told you about all the shit in my life, but I was scared it was too much. And when you still wanted to be with me and the first morning you woke up with me, you told me how amazing you think I am…” Frankie reaches up and strokes his thumb over your cheek, catching a tear that’s escaped from your eyes, “I almost said it then too, I really wanted to tell you then, but I chickened out..” 

“You should’ve said it all those times, Frankie,” you say, putting your hand over his, still on your cheek, “I would’ve said it back, but I thought it was too soon. I thought you’d run a mile if you knew how fast I fell for you.” 

“Not in a million years, hermosa, never.” He pulls you in, catching your lips in another kiss, slow and searing, making you part your lips so that he can taste you, despite all the alcohol. You feel his tongue, soft against your own, as he moves to kiss you deeper, his arm wrapped tight around your waist, holding you firm against him as you hold onto his shoulders, and push your fingers into his hair. You’re in your own bubble, only you and him, and the noises of the bar fades away as you hum against his mouth, the taste of him, his tongue, overtakes your hazy mind. 

…

You stay under the covers, you can hear Frankie moving around his kitchen, making coffee. You remember him taking the guys and you home last night. The truck had been full, the guys in the back and you tucked into Frankie’s side in the front, falling asleep against his shoulder as he dropped the others off first. You vaguely remember Frankie gently scooting you out of his truck and picking you up. You’d woken up when he had to put you down to dig out his keys, his soft voice telling you to stay awake as you leaned on him. Finally he’d gotten you both into his place and he’d tucked you in under the covers of his bed, the last thing you seem to remember is him taking your shoes off. 

Now he pads back into the bedroom with a bottle of water and a large coffee. 

“Here, cariño, drink the water first.” 

“Thanks, Frankie, you’re more than I deserve, I was way too drunk last night,” you moan, gratefully taking the water bottle from him. 

“You’re a very cute drunk,” he smiles and sits down on the edge of the bed as you pull yourself up, leaning against the headboard and taking a long drink of water. 

“And I love you too,” you say, putting down the water and taking his hand, “I remember that part at least.” 

Frankie chuckles and pulls your hand to his lips, kissing your palm, “I was a bit worried you’d said all those sweet things and then forget about it. 

“Never, Frankie,” you smile, “how could I? I just wish I hadn’t blurted it out when I was drunk...” 

“It was very sweet, hermosa, alcohol clearly makes you honest. I need to remember that,” he pulls you towards him with a big grin and you lean against his chest, breathing into his clean t-shirt, fresh cotton and the smell of just him underneath it. If you weren’t so hungover you’d pull him back into the bed with you, he feels good next to you, warm and solid, his little belly soft to the touch as you absentmindedly run your hand over it and listen to his heartbeat under your ear. Frankie’s hand is rubbing up and down your back and you can feel his breath against the top of your head where he's leaning his chin. 

“I wanted to ask you something,” he says after a little while of enjoying just sitting together in silence. The slight hesitation in his voice makes you lift your head and look up at him. He’s got that worried look in his eyes, and it makes you mirror his look, raising your eyebrows in concern as he goes on; 

“Lucía is supposed to come here next weekend, she’s staying Saturday and Sunday. And you can say no if you think it’s too much but, but I really want you to meet her, if you want?” 

“You know I’d love to meet her, Frankie” you say, sitting up so that you can look properly at him. His expressive eyebrows immediately shoot up in a relieved look. 

“I know, I just wanted to make sure,” he says, “I’ve…I’ve never…let her meet a girlfriend before and I wanna make sure you’re fine with it too.” 

“I’m absolutely fine with it, sweetie,” you rub his arm, wanting to reassure him that it really was fine. “If you want, we can start easy though, maybe? Just tell her I’m a friend of yours or something and we keep the PDA to a minimum around her?” 

“Yeah, I was thinking that too,” he agrees. “I haven’t talked to her mom yet either, it’s not like I need her permission for it or anything, but you know, just so that she hears it from me and not Lucía afterwards.” 

“I won’t stay over at your place when she’s here,” you stretch your arms up, yawning big and Frankie pushes the coffee mug into your hands with a smile. “We’ll just hang out a bit,” you say, “I don’t wanna intrude on your father - daughter time, I know you feel like you don’t see enough of her as it is.” 

“You could never intrude, cariño,” Frankie protests, “hang out with us as much as you want. Although, four year olds can be a bit rowdy so you might need to work on your stamina,” he chuckles. 

“I know how to handle four year olds,” you grin, “I just buy them the loudest toy I can find and be their new best friend.”

“That’s just evil, just pure evil,” Frankie groans, “every parent's worst nightmare, you would never.” 

“I would never do that to you, Frankie,” you smile and accept his hand as he pulls you out of the bed. “But my brother’s kids, absolutely.” 

“Remind me to never piss you off, cariño,” Frankie chuckles as you make your way into his small kitchen where he’s got breakfast laid out. 

Right from the start Frankie had claimed he couldn’t cook and his mom’s brownies was the only thing he could bake. You’d quickly figured out that the ‘can’t cook’ line was more a show of Frankie’s insecurity rather than an actual thing. And he excelled at breakfast, making both blueberry pancakes, omelettes and smoothies so good you’d rather have his breakfast for every meal of the day than anything else. The first time you had his pancakes, made from scratch and not a box mix, you’d eaten four in one go and not even felt bad about it. Frankie’s smile when you kept asking for more was worth the bloated feeling you had for the rest of the day. He admitted he’d taught himself to make them because they were Lucía’s favourite food and the thought of Frankie looking up pancake recipes online to be able to serve his daughter her favourite food made you almost teary eyed. The more you got to know him, the more you saw of his big heart and soft side, the more it became difficult to equate the man you now knew, with the man who had been in Delta Force and displayed such skill at violence in the bar that horrible night. 

There was one thing that betrayed his background though, his nightmares. Frankie said he had them less these days but there were still several nights where you’d been woken up by him thrashing around in the bed, crying out incoherently. A few times you’d been woken up by Frankie throwing himself on top of you when his sleep hazy mind thought there was a threat in the room and you had to be protected. Sweet on one level, but on those nights it took you both a long time to go back to sleep, Frankie’s adrenaline spiking high and your own heart rate going through the roof after being so brutally woken up. You were grateful that he seemed to need to hold you as close as possible on those nights, it made it easier for you to fall back asleep with his heavy arm draped across your waist or chest, pulled in so tight that you could hear his heartbeat, feel it slow down as he calmed. 

The next morning he’d wake up in a dark mood, feeling guilty about scaring you and bringing his issues into your life. You soon figured out that the best way to get him past his sullen thoughts was to pull him down on the sofa and make him lay back, resting against you. That way you could hook one arm around his broad chest, make him tip his head back on your shoulder and then scratch his scalp with your fingertips. His mind would stop racing, he would feel your heartbeat under his body and your fingers softly scraping through his curls, slowly realising that you weren’t leaving, that he wasn’t scaring you away by showing you the darker sides of himself. 

“I’m sorry, cariño, I’m such an idiot, it’s just me and my stupid brain causing trouble,” he mumbled while your fingers worked through his hair. 

“You’re not an idiot, Frankie,” you gently admonished him, “you know why your brain gives you nightmares, you’ve been through more than anyone should have to endure, “ you press a kiss to his head and he leans towards you. 

“My sponsor always says I should tell people close to me what’s going on when I start spiralling out of control, but that’s always been the hardest thing.” 

“Why is it hard?” you ask, still brushing through his soft curls, willing him to relax against you. 

Frankie shifts under your arm, turning so that he can press his face against the side of your neck, you feel him inhale deeply as he stretches his arm across your chest and pulls you closer. 

“It took me a long time to figure this out,” he says in a low voice, “I feel like I fail when I lose control, fail my family, my friends, anyone I wanna be close to.” His voice is muffled, pressed up against you as he hides his face, “I feel guilty about failing so I don’t ask for help and then it gets worse, I fall into to bad habits and that makes me feel like more of a failure and that makes me feel even more guilty and then it just spirals out of control.”

“What do you think will happen when you tell those you love about losing control?” you ask in a soft voice. You’re leaning your cheek against his head, feeling his breath fan across your neck and chest as he draws a deep breath. 

“That you’ll leave me, see what a fuck up I am and realise I’m not worth the effort.” You can barely hear his low whisper, it cracks at the end, and your heart clenches, your hands leaving his hair as you wrap your arms tight around him, burying your face against his soft curls. 

“Never, Frankie, never.” You squeeze him, willing him to understand how much he’s come to mean to you in this short time. “I don’t know what happens in the future but I can promise you that I’ll never leave you because I think you’re not worth the effort. And don’t say that about yourself, you’ll always be worth the effort, Frankie,” you lean back, putting your hand on his chin and tilting it up so that you can look at him, his eyes are distressed, the usually soft look, pained and tight. “I’ve already told you I think you’re the best man I’ve ever known and even if you spiral out of control and your demons get the better of you, I won’t leave because I know how good you are, what a great man you are and what a great father you are to Lucía.” 

Frankie closes his eyes as you lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips, a long breath escaping with a shudder, as if he’d been holding it in.

“I’m always scared I’ll fuck things up with her,” he says when you pull back from his lips. “How am I gonna be any kind of role model to her when this is what I’ve done with my own life?” 

“Frankie, you idiot,” you smile softly at him, and he looks confused. “You’ve had a passion for helicopters since you were a kid right?” He nods and you continue, “So you found a way to become a helicopter pilot, a very difficult profession that takes enormous dedication and skill. You then got sucked into the fucked up system of the military, and saw some horrible things. Things that any normal person would consider fucked up and have trouble processing, right?” 

“Yeah, I guess, bu- “ 

You stop him, “You didn’t get any adequate help to deal with your PTSD so you found a way to deal with it yourself. A stupid way, sure, but you had the willpower to get your shit together when it became about someone else but you, your daughter.” 

Frankie just nods, his eyebrows pulled up in that tight little knot you’ve seen so many times. 

“Don’t you get it?” you say, “you’ve already proved to her, before she was even born, that she’s the center of your universe and that you’ll do anything for her and that she can do anything she wants. All she has to do is to look at how you’ve managed to get through some of the most fucked up shit.” 

Frankie looks at you as you stroke the lines between his eyebrows with your thumb, smoothing them out. “Frankie Morales, you’re amazing, and if you keep thinking you’re not I’ll have to smack you,” you smile at him and you see the corners of his mouth twitch up, “or I’ll get Pope to smack you,” you say and Frankie smiles properly, his face changing into that soft smile you’ve always loved. He drops his head down on your chest again, his nose pressed against your throat. 

“I’d like to see him try,” he chuckles as he wraps his arm around you and pulls himself on top, looking down at you. 

“Thank you,” he says, using your real name as if to emphasize, “I don’t know what I did in my last life to deserve you in this one.” 

“Maybe you saved my life somehow,” you smile and stroke your thumb over the bare patch in his scruffy beard, “and now you get to have incredible sex with me as a reward.” 

“Yeah?” he smirks, pulling up one corner of his mouth, “Maybe I wanna claim some of that reward right now.”

…

On Friday night, before Lucía’s coming to stay, Frankie picks you up for your date wearing no cap, but a white dress shirt with his dark jeans. You open the door and do a double take, holding out one hand in front of you to stop him, as you shamelessly admire the view. 

“Damn, Frankie…” you purr, letting your eyes travel down from the v of the open neck, the smattering of freckles dark against his tanned skin and white cotton, the wide shoulders that stretch the fabric when he crosses his arms, leaning on the door frame with a smile, his forearms on display where he’s rolled up the sleeves to his elbows, and all the way down over his slim hips and lean thighs under the black denim. 

“Are you taking me out to dinner, or are you delivering yourself for dinner?” you ask, giving him a wicked smile as you hook your finger into his shirt and pull him closer. Frankie chuckles and brushes his lips against yours. 

“Maybe I’m here to make a meal out of you…”

“Cheesy,” you giggled into his mouth, “but I’ll definitely remind yo-” 

He cuts you off with a kiss, pushing his hand into your hair and sealing his lips to yours, licking against your bottom lip before he gently sucks on it. A jolt of electricity immediately shoots down your spine and settles between your legs, the sheer promise of what he could deliver had you trembling. A moan escapes you as he pushes you against the wall and lets his thigh spread your legs, the friction shoots another jolt through your body and Frankie knows exactly what he’s doing. You can feel him move his thigh, the thick muscles giving just a taste of what his fingers would do later, and with a crooked smile he pulls back, both from your lips and your legs. 

“Frankie…” you moan, chasing his lips, but he chuckles and takes your hand, pulling you towards the door. 

“Let's get actual dinner before I make a meal out of you, my greedy little girl.” 

With a pout you follow him out the door but when he wraps his arms around your waist and kisses your neck in the elevator on the way down you melt, you were never really upset. “Who says I’ll keep my hands off you, hermosa,” he murmurs, “the restaurant is really dimly lit.” 

…

The place Frankie has picked is a new place you’d mentioned a while back and you squeeze his arm tightly when you realise that he’s made a reservation especially because he knew you wanted to go. He’s even requested a table at the back where the restaurant has a few tables in small window nooks overlooking the river. The waiter seats you and lights the two candles in the windows and in the small hanging chandelier over your heads, casting the whole table in a soft light. 

You sit down in the middle of the plush bench that curves under the windows, and Frankie sits down close to you, rather than opposite. You’re sharing a corner at the table, and even though there’d be more room if you sat at opposite ends, none of you are moving, least of all Frankie. Instead you feel his hand on your leg, slipping up under the edge of your dress, as soon as he sits down. His hand is hidden under the table cloth and although he lets his hand rest on your thigh for now, you’re fairly certain he won’t let it stay there.

The waiter returns to take your orders and while you’re asking about the fish dish Frankie’s fingers start moving, gentle little circles on your thigh but steadily moving up along your leg. You steal yourself to not let his touch get to you while you talk to the waiter, sitting perfectly still in your seat as you ask about the evening’s special. You can feel his fingers creep further up your leg, starting to tickle the sensitive skin on the inside of your thigh. From the corner of your eye you can see Frankie innocently studying the menu but you can also see the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. As the waiter finishes with your order he turns to Frankie and as soon as the waiter’s eyes are off you, Frankie squeezes the inside of your thigh. Not hard, but enough to make your limbs clench together as you shudder from the jolt of heat that shoots through you, settling between your legs. Your involuntary spasm makes the waiter look at you again and you pretend to reach for the breadbasket as Frankie struggles to keep a straight face.

As soon as the waiter leaves Frankie turns to you with a mischievous grin and moves his hand further up your thigh. 

“Hermosa,” he purrs as you try to scowl at him, “your skin is so soft and grabbable right here.” He kneads the plush flesh of your inner thigh as you try to ignore the way it feels as he sinks his fingers into you. 

“You’re a menace, Francisco Morales,” you glare and he leans in on the table, propping his chin up with his free hand, so that his mouth is only inches from your lips. He continues to draw shapes on your skin as he looks at you, his face softening into an innocent look, big brown eyes looking at you like he’s only adoring his girlfriend, not slowly moving his hand up to brush the edge of your panties under the table.

“Why would you say that, cariño?” he asks, smiling as you clench your jaw when his finger tips nudges at your legs, beckoning you to spread them, and you obey without hesitation. “Am I distracting you from the nice view?” You scowl at him again but you can’t hide your smile and Frankie closes the last bit of distance between you and nudges the tip of his nose against yours, letting it brush along your cheek as he captures your lips with his. 

The kiss is soft and demure, anyone looking will only see a couple in love sharing a tender kiss, a sweet moment together. Frankie’s free hand takes your hand on the table and your fingers entwine, but under the table his fingertips are slowly brushing over the thin lace in your panties, feeling the dampness his touch is creating. He traces the slit under the fabric and grazes over your clit, making you quake against his lips, and you feel his mouth pull up in a smile. His tongue quickly darts between your lips as the pad of his thumb rubs with more pressure against the spot, pulling a soft moan from you as you lean into him. With a chuckle Frankie pulls away, moving his hand down your leg, and when you open your eyes to protest you see the waiter walking over with your drinks.

“I’m gonna get you back for this, you know,” you mumble and Frankie gives you a look of perfect innocence as he thanks the waiter for the drinks. When he leaves Frankie takes a sip from his beer and over the brim of his glass his eyes crinkle at the corners in a smile. 

“I think I’d like that, cariño, why don’t you try right now?” 

“No, I think I’ll pick a moment you’ll enjoy less,” you smile back at him, taking a sip of your own drink. 

Frankie leans forward, his hand falling below the table again and you quickly cross your legs as his hand touches your knee. 

“Ah, c’mon, cariño,” he coos, caressing the top of your thigh, edging under the hem of your dress again. 

“Keep your hands on the table, Francisco,” you give him a stern look that only makes him grin and scoot closer, leaning in so that he can skate his nose along your jaw, his lips brushing up against your ear, his hot breath tickling you. 

“Mi hermosa,” he mumbles, his lips barely touching your skin, “I want to touch you, feel if you’re as wet as I think you are.” He moves his mouth down and you feel the tip of his tongue slip out and lick across the spot he knows makes you shiver whenever he touches it. “I wanna to feel your sweet pussy tighten around my fingers as you think about what I’m gonna do with my mouth later.” 

His words make your eyes close as a shiver goes down your spine, heat pooling rapidly between your legs. And Frankie knows, he knows exactly what his dirty talk does to you. And now he continues to whisper how he wants to push your dress up over your hips, spread you before him and taste your sweet pussy, all the while his hand gently nudges your legs apart under the table. You feel heat rising in your cheeks as his fingers brush up over the soaked material in your panties. He’s telling you how good he knows you taste, how he loves the feeling of your pussy clenching around his tongue as he pushes into your tight hole. 

“I know you love how my nose rubs against your clit when I bury my face between your legs, hermosa,” he murmurs and you bite your lip to stop a moan escaping. Outwardly he’s still just whispering sweet nothings to you, a loving boyfriend nuzzled against the neck of his love, under the table his fingers have slipped past your panties and are pushing into your pussy, his thick index and ring finger stretching you. You lean forward on your elbows, tilting your head towards him, hiding your face from the room. Frankie’s teeth scrape against your skin as he curls his fingers back inside you, rubbing against the spot he always seems to find so easily. The thrill of him fingering you in public has your cheeks burning, your jaw is clenched tight to stop yourself from panting. Tension is building inside you as Frankie’s breath fans over your skin. 

“Are you gonna come for me, baby?” he whispers, “I wish I could get down on my knees and lick you, tug that sweet little clit of yours into my mouth, make you come on my face just like I did - “

Frankie suddenly pulls back, footsteps approaching your table, his fingers slipping out of you as he sits up. 

“Alright, I’ve got the grilled tuna for the lady and the lamb racks for the gentleman,” the waiter says, placing plates on the table. 

You’ve still got your face turned away, cheeks burning as you calm your breathing. Frankie’s hand comes up and genty cups your chin, a soft smile on his face, as if you say he’s got you, and not at all sorry that he’s got you on the edge of an orgasm in the middle of a crowded Friday night restaurant. 

…

You barely make it to the truck once you're done with the meal. The thrum of your near orgasm is still humming through your body and Frankie’s warm arm around your waist, holding you close, makes you want to duck into an alley and risk getting caught for public indecency. You stop him and cup his cheek, pulling him down for a kiss, letting your tongue slip between his lips as his large hand cups the back of your head. You feel his other hand sliding up your back, pressing you against his chest and you lick into his mouth, tasting him and the chocolate he had for dessert. Heat shoots through your body as he presses his hard on into you, he’s trying to create friction to give himself some relief but the way your body reacts, a low moan slipping out, only makes him harder. With a groan he pulls away, grabbing your hand and almost drags you the last bit to the truck. 

It’s parked on a side street and you pull him against you again when he takes you around to the passenger side. Slipping your hand in between you, you palm his cock through his jeans, Frankie grumbles, dropping his head on your shoulder and letting his mouth kiss your neck.

“I need to get you home, hermosa,” he murmurs, his face buried in your hair. “I wanna get you out of this dress so badly.”

 Letting your fingers trace the outlines through the fabric, you circle around the tip pressed against the zipper and Frankie’s breath hitches, his teeth sinking into your neck, sucking against the skin. Behind your back he opens the door to the truck and manoeuvres you so that he’s got his arms at your waist. With casual strength that takes your breath away he lifts you up, setting you down on the bench seat, and for a second you think he’s going to climb up after you. Instead he stops, one foot up on the step, his gaze dropping to where your knees fall open, he’s got a perfect view and his eyes go dark. His hand grabs your thighs, pushing you further into the truck and pushing them wider, the tip of his tongue comes out and licks his bottom lip, before he tears himself away, looking up at you again and inhales deeply as he steps down and closes the door. 

You can’t help but giggle at the effect you had on him and he notices your smile when he pulls himself into the driver’s seat. 

“What are you giggling about, cariño?” he says, buckling in and starting up the truck. His hard cock is straining against his jeans, and you scoot closer to him, cupping your hand around it. 

“Nothing,” you say, “nothing at all, sweetie,” but you smile when you see his jaw clench as soon as your palm presses against his cock and his voice is strained when he replies.

“If you keep doing that I’m gonna have to park the truck somewhere dark before we get back to my place.” 

“Would you like that, Frankie?” you ask in a low voice, leaning in so that your breath tickles his neck and you see goosebumps break out on his skin.

“If you’re asking if I wanna fuck you in my truck, then, fuck yes. But let's save that for a date where I can do it properly, and not in the corner of some Costco parking lot.” His voice is a dark rumble as he looks over at you, pausing the truck at a stop sign. His unruly curls are creating a halo lit by the street light behind him and it reminds you of the first time you were in his truck. Him driving to the airfield with you and you’re struck by how much has happened since that first day with Frankie. 

“Remember when we were first in your truck together?” you ask, mirroring the gesture you did then, lifting your hand to push it through the soft curls on his head. 

“I do, vividly,” he smiles, leaning into your hand, “I told you to do that again when we weren’t in any vehicles I would crash.” 

“You also said you wanted to kiss me.” 

“I did, and I wanted to kiss you right then, but it took like three more tries before I got my chance.” Frankie chuckles as he puts the truck in drive again. He lifts his arm so that he can put it around your shoulders, pulling you in, and you take your hand from his cock, not wishing to cause any accidents, resting it on his thigh instead. 

“Put your hand back there as soon as we’re inside the apartment, please,” Frankie says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, making you giggle and squeeze his thigh. Your sexual energy is still thrumming in your nerves but they simmer lower as you lean against Frankie, feeling a different kind of energy in your system. 

This man makes you feel safe, comfortable and wanted. You drop your head against his shoulder, relishing in the way his sheer presence wraps you up in a cocoon of happy content, as if his solid, calm energy makes your body relax and sink into him. Frankie’s own self doubts and nerves never seemed to seep out of him, he pulled them into himself, you could see in his eyes when he was pulled under by his negative thoughts, but the energy he gave to you was always solid, like a rock holding you steady. 

“You’re my rock, Frankie,” you say, as you wrap your arm across his waist, hugging him tightly. 

“Your rock, cariño?” he smiles, dropping his eyes from the road for a second to look at you. 

“You’re solid like a rock, making me feel calm when I’m with you, like you can handle whatever happens and keep me safe.” 

“I don’t know how much of a rock I am, I’ve struggled with keeping myself steady for most of my life,” he says, his voice a little doleful. 

“I know, but somehow you still manage to make me feel like you’re the most stable person in the world.” 

“You mean boring,” Frankie snorts, “should I be insulted?” 

You slap him playfully and shake your head, “Anything but boring, Frankie, just…you make me feel calm, and relaxed, when I’m with you. And happy. Very, very happy.” 

You feel him tighten his arm around your shoulders, “Mi amor,” he mumbles, his lips pressed to your hair as he keeps one eye on the road, “you make me very, very happy too.”

…

The mood changes as you get to Frankie’s apartment, riding up the elevator he nods up at the security camera in the corner and you resort to snuggling into him, keeping everything PG. But the second he’s got you over the threshold he cages you in between his arms against the door, his long body pressed up against yours, and you wrap your arms around his neck as his mouth finds yours. 

“Longest fucking dinner of my life,” he murmurs against you, his hips are flush against your belly and the hard line of his cock twitches between you. “Would’ve pulled you out of there and actually fucked you in my truck if I hadn’t waited three weeks for that reservation.” 

“You’re such a romantic, Frankie,” you smile, grabbing hold of his curls and pulling him back a little so that you can see his dark eyes, his eyelids half closed and a greedy look on his face. 

“Put your hand back on my dick, please, hermosa,” he husks, rolling his hips so that you can feel his cock more firmly. Keeping a hold on his hair so that you can look at him you snake your other hand between you and cup it over the hard bulge in his jeans, stroking it firmly with your eyes locked on his. His lips curl up almost as if he’s in pain and a dark groan slips out between his parted lips as he keeps his eyes on you, his pupils are wide and half hidden under his eyelids. You repeat the motion, adding your nails, rasping them over the bulge and Frankie’s head falls back. 

“Fuuuuck….” he moans, louder this time, “fucking feels so good but I’m about to break the zipper, cariño,” he pants. 

You tug at his hair, “Eyes on me, Francisco.” The use of his full name snaps him back as you palm him again, using your nails, and the look in his eyes sparks something inside you. Leaning in, close to his ear, you nip lightly at his earlobe, pulling a soft gasp from him. 

“Frankie,” you whisper, “do you like it when I tell you what to do?” The groan from deep in his chest is answer enough, and when you lean back, looking at him again, his jaw is clenched and he’s got a strained look on his face. 

“Tell me what to do, hermosa,” he grates out, his hips still against your palm cupped over his aching cock. His eyebrows are tightly knitted, his dark eyes fixed on your as he swallows hard, but he doesn’t move. 

You smile, the thought of having Frankie obeying your orders turns you on more than you thought it would. He’s always in control when you have sex, apart from the last few minutes when he loses himself, pumping into you as he chases his orgasm, he’s always in control. He always makes sure you come once or twice before he thinks about himself, he’s always thinking about how to give you as much pleasure as possible and seems to get as much out of it as you do. But he’s always called the shots, until now. 

“Frankie…” you purr, pulling your hand up from his dick to stroke your fingertips over his patchy beard, “this is new, I can call the shots tonight?” 

“Yes, baby, tell me what you want me to do,” his face is less strained now that your hand isn’t caressing his aching cock but his tone is still a dark groan

“Take me to your bedroom, Frankie,” you say, testing the waters, although this is hardly a difficult one. 

With a swift motion he bends and puts his arm behind your knees, the other at your back, picking you up as your arms wrap around his neck for purchase and he walks through the dimly lit apartment.  

“With the risk of sounding like a cavewoman,” you giggle, “your strength always turns me on, I forget how strong you are until you pick me up like I weigh nothing.”

“Maybe I should pick you up more often,” Frankie grins, pushing open the door to his bedroom. “Tell me, what do you want me to do with you now?” 

“Put me down,” you say and he gently sets you down on your feet and you sit down on the edge of the bed, giving him a mischievous smile. 

“Take your clothes off for me, Frankie.” 

He grins and starts rolling down the sleeves of his white shirt before unbuttoning it, revealing more tanned skin as he moves down. 

“The thing is,” you say, your eyes shamelessly watching him slide the shirt off his wide shoulders, “you’re always in control when we have sex. Making sure I come first, making me come several times before you even let me touch you.” Frankie gives you a proud smirk while his hands undo his belt and slides it out, dropping it on the floor next to the shirt. “And tonight, I wanna do the same to you.” You watch as his hands still, his zipper halfway down. 

“Don’t stop, Francisco,” you tell him. “You take your pants off at the last moment, when you’ve already got me spread out on the bed, coming down from you eating my pussy. I wanna watch you properly this time.” At the mention of him eating you out he narrows his eyes and you see the pink tip of his tongue peek out between his lips, his eyes dropping to the hem of your dress. 

“Maybe later, Frankie, if you’re a good boy,” you smile and his eyes find yours, the greedy look in them almost makes you want to drop your game and let him take control again. But instead you watch him push his jeans down over his narrow hips, catching his socks at the same time as he steps out of them. He stands up, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his snug black boxers, looking at you with his head tilted to the side and a crooked grin. 

“Want me to keep going?” he asks, his eyes crinkling at the corners. 

You bite your lip, it’s hard to keep a straight face when he’s looking so good standing in front of you and he knows you’re cracking. “I didn’t tell you to stop, Francisco,” you manage to press out. 

The boxers are stretched over his rigid cock, doing nothing to hide the sheer size of him or how aroused he is. When you first had sex with him he was a bit self conscious, both about his body and the size of dick. Any qualms about this size you’d dispelled the first time, he knew you loved how he filled you up and you let him know it, loudly. His hang ups about his flat butt and soft belly were harder to dispel, but now he’s standing in front of you without any nerves, confidence oozing from him as he drags his boxers down his hips. He keeps his eyes on you as they slide over his cock, making it jump out as the elastic pulls over the tip. You’re flitting your eyes between his boxers and his face, your tongue peaking out without you noticing, licking your lips as he drops the boxers and strokes himself a few times with languid passes. 

“Lie down on the bed, Frankie,” you order him, standing up so that he can stretch out and lie back. He puts his hands out for you, trying to pull you down on top of him but you smile and slip away from his hands. 

“Patience, Frankie boy,” you purr and swat his hand away from your leg as he grins. 

You’ve still got your dress on and you see his cocky smile fade away as you give him the same view you just got. You’re wearing the black wrap around dress he loves and as his dark eyes watches, you untie it at the waist and let it fall open, pulling the ribbon out of the dress. 

“Hermosa,” Frankie moans, “you’re so beautiful, come here, let me touch you, please.” 

Shrugging it off your shoulders you step back up on the bed and straddle Frankie’s thighs, his hard cock jutting up towards his stomach just in front of you. 

“Not yet, my sweet Frankie,” you coo, “I know you want to taste me, make me come with your face buried in my pussy, but not yet.” 

Frankie’s jaw clenches and you can see his hands grabbing hold of the covers as you sit down. He’s desperate to touch but determined to let you guide him this time. The black lace panties and bra you’re wearing aren’t helping, it’s his favourite set. You’d asked for his advice when you bought it a few weeks ago and his cock had twitched when he thought about seeing you in it, wrapped like a present for him. Now you’re hovering above his erection, wearing that set, leaning down over him as your hand closes around the base. 

“Cariño,” he grumbles with a shiver as your breath ghosts over the head of his cock, it’s already weeping, drops of precum collecting at the slit. “Please…” 

“Please what, Frankie?” you smile, leaning closer to the tip, sticking out your tongue, keeping your eyes on him. His eyes are black, his eyebrows furrowed as he looks at where the tip of your tongue traces the slit of his cock. When you make contact he moans, his hips bucking up involuntarily. 

“Please, hermosa,” he pants, and you lick your tongue over the head, collecting the salty liquid as he groans and bucks his hips again. Your mouth sinks over him and he’s fisting the covers, fighting the urge to grab on to your head, instead he watches as his aching cock disappears between your lips. He can feel the head gliding along the inside of your mouth as you take him deeper, your tongue licking along the length, teasing along the swollen ridges and veins that thrum with heat. Saliva drips from your mouth, down over his cock and you use it to slide your hand up and down him, easing the friction over the part that’s not in your mouth. 

Heat is building fast in his belly, your mouth is a hot vise around his cock, taking more and more down your throat as he gasps and groans, screwing up his eyes when he can’t watch, when he gets too close to coming. He’s rambling as he shivers underneath you, praising your mouth, your tongue, your hands. When your nose brushes against the wiry curls at the base of his cock, the head bumping the back of your throat, he cries out, begging you for release. 

“Please, you’re so good to me, let me…oh fuck you feel good,” he stutters, his voice catching as you close your mouth around him, dragging your lips along his length as you increase the pressure.

“Fuck…your mouth…hermosa, your mouth, make me come, let me come in you.” He opens his eyes again, looking down at you as you sink your mouth down over him again, you can taste his precum on your tongue, more of it leaking out. 

His hips are jerking up, he’s breathing fast as he whimpers and you lift your eyes to him, meeting his gaze. Seeing him like this, his mouth hanging open as he whines, looking wrecked, he screws his face up as if he’s in pain, makes you shudder, your panties are soaked, every one of his moans and whines going straight to your core. 

You sink down deeper over him, your tongue licking every inch of him as you take as much as you can, letting his cock brush against the back of your throat again as you move your mouth up and down his length, stroking the slick base with your hand coated in his precum and your saliva. 

Frankie lets out a broken growl, “fuck, cariño, ple…please…I’m gon - “ his stuttering turns into shout as you feel the first burst of thick liquid coat your tongue, he’s jerking his hips, his hands fly from the sheets and tangle in your hair as he pumps himself upwards, your mouth closing tight around his pulsating cock, milking his spend as it shoots out of him. Frankie’s whole body tenses up, his back arching off the bed, the corded tendons on his neck stretch and tremble when he throws his head back, a cry as if he’s in pain tearing itself from his throat. 

You continue to stroke him through his climax, looking up at him, seeing his throat strain as he pants, groaning through his high. His thrusts grow slower and you let your mouth drag along him, softening your lips as you let him pump the last of himself over your tongue, ending with a small kiss on the tip of his sensitive head. He relaxes and looks down at you again, seeing your mouth come off him and you wipe the back of your hand over your mouth. 

“Help, I can’t move,” he groans softly and you smile at him as you crawl up his body and lie down in his arms. 

“I liked that,” you say, wrapping an arm over his chest as he pulls you in close. “I see why you like eating my pussy first, it’s a rush to have that power.” 

“Don’t get used to it, cariño,” Frankie smiles, “I’m not giving it up so easily.” 

“I’ll get Benny to teach me how to bark orders like in the military, you seem to like me bossing you around.” 

“Only because I let you,” he pokes his finger into your side, “I wanted to see if you had it in you.” 

“Bullshit!” you splutter and almost sit up, but Frankie’s arm tightens around you and pulls you back down. “The second I used your full name you caved.” 

“I hated hearing my full name in the army, it meant I was in trouble. But when you say it, cariño lindo…I melt.” 

“I know, Francisco Morales,” your giggle turns into a squeal when he suddenly grabs your arms and flips you over. 

“Ahora, mi hermosa,” he murmurs as he sinks his mouth to your neck, “now it’s your turn.”

Chapter 8

[kaienmaru]

@braveryhearted ( cont. )

“but kintoki, my information network has alerted me of the emergence of this terrifying thing called 'involuntary celibate', and i'm just trying to prevent it from happening to you! because you're my good friend!”

[lilithism1848]

What are some advice you give to a young communist?

Hit the gym.

Delete time-waster social media (Facebook, Instagram, etc.) - organize face-to-face with real people. A bit of political discourse online is fine.

Arm yourself. Get guns, and learn how to shoot them. Don't get museum items because "Mosins are cool" or some nonsense, get whatever combat-worthy AR and sidearm is a military standard in your geographic region, depending on where you are that's probably something like an M16, G36, AK-12, or AK-47.

Organize with trustworthy individuals. In case of civil war or anti-socialist genocide, you need people you can rely on (and the reactionaries WILL eventually come for people like us in the West, capitalists never give up without a fight).

Organize a meeting point where you will meet your comrades in case of conflict.

Get good military-grade or better marching/combat boots and always have a full bug-out bag ready. Long-lasting rations for at least a few days, water filter/purification equipment, first aid kit, sleeping equipment, heat blanket, tinder and mechanical lighter, tarp, basic tools like knife, are, rope, etc. (try and stay below 10kg weight without water, add as much water as you can comfortably carry). Do regular training marches with your simulated backpack (10km with 10kg of weight minimum).

Study how to organize at work and build a mutual aid network. Help found unions.

Focus hard on education. The better educated you are the better.

Society is not ready for revolution, yet. So, get a great career that makes money. Yes, participating in capitalism is good, actually. Become as rich and powerful as possible. Make use of all the tools capitalism gives you. Preferably find a collectively owned business but don't be shy about participating in capitalism. Use the power and money you gain along the way to fund and support revolutionaries.

Always remember: It is not your personal responsibility to change the world or jeopardize your own wellbeing by acting according to ideals nobody else shares. As long as you don't personally stand in the way of revolution, your priority should be bettering your own life. Societal change can only be achieved at a societal level, personal responsibility is a liberal myth. Lead the best life you can while promoting socialism.

I know that some of this sounds like paranoid prepper bs and LARPing and will continue to feel like LARPing the entire time until the revolution starts but if you are a revolutionary communist you need to be ready... this is part of any revolution.

Know these "funny" videos where right-wingers stand in a line and make Nazi salutes then "train" by doing 10 push-ups before falling over wheezing, then trying to march in a line completely out of tune with each other while some skinny guy with a swastika tattooed on his face is swinging an SS flag? Yeah, those idiotic-looking guys are more organized more disciplined, and more committed than the overwhelming majority of self-proclaimed Marxist-Leninists in the West.

[colourstreakgryffin]

can you do Tanjiro x fem reader where he finds out that she’s been getting bullied and he comforts her?

if you’re not comfortable with that it’s ok, no pressure:3

Oooh! Okay! I think I can definitely do this one as I have a idea for Tanjiro this time. I love this boy so much! I assume this is set in a more Kimetsu Academy AU-based world!

Kamado Tanjiro- Protection Squad

Right from the very beginning, Tanjiro could tell something was wrong with you but he couldn’t place his finger on WHAT the problem actually was. The way you enter the class so gloomy and cry over your lunch in privacy

Who is hurting you?! … and what is their address?

Tanjiro doesn’t like to snoop, even on his crush. To him, it’s offensive and invasive but his concern for you elevates his morality. After a few days, he finally finds out the cause of your misery

Bullies… of course. Why didn’t he see it sooner? Your hidden bruises, the way you pull down your skirt. You have girls picking on you ruthlessly, and he couldn’t protect you from them

He was the worst. Such a idiot, why was he oblivious to your pain?! What kind of boyfriend would he make if he can’t even notice your distress

Tanjiro won’t accept that, girls find you annoying or ugly, in the slightest, his first priority is cheer you up then get those girls disciplined. Tanjiro immediately marches to you and pulls out of the room to talk with you alone

Your bawling breaks his heart into several crumb-sized pieces but he stays strong for you

“Hey! What is going on here?” A familiar yet angelic voice barks out firmly but politely from behind the backs of the typical popular girls that crowded you. It was like this everyday…

The girls would track you down, corner you, pull your hair, harass you, tell you to commit seppuku and berate your sense of self-worth. It has gotten so bad that you cried almost everyday and you never thought anybody would notice your wails for help but with the ways the girls snapped to face the voice, your sore puffy eyes lighten up, almost brighter than the sun as Tanjiro pouted firmly with his arms crossed

“Are you five bullying your junior? That is cruel and inhumane, you should know better! If have a problem! You should just talk about it!” Tanjiro pipes out, stepping closer without letting his eyes wonder off the group huddled over you. Despite his cute friendly face, gorgeous plum red eyes and sympathetic beautiful smile, Tanjiro always emitted this strange yet intimidating aura when he was angry and you could tell that he was angry

You could tell it was effecting the girls as a number of them shivered and cowardly tried to curl into themselves. Tanjiro would never raise a fist to a woman, rather they be cruel to another woman but he wasn’t above scaring them off. Once he had reached the miniature wave of people, his eyes gestured to the obvious black stump on the roof

The security cameras. Tanjiro must have had everything he seen himself be recorded, so he could have solid evidence

The group of over-blinged monstrous seniors rushed off, the blonde leader pulling at their wrists with a angry scowl, she devoted that ‘this was not over’. Once they had waddled away with their tails inbetween their legs, you felt your weakened knees collapse and Tanjiro reacted and acted much faster than you could process what happened and caught you before you could thump onto your knees

“Dokusha. Are you okay? Are you hurt? How long has this been happening? Why didn’t you tell me anything! I could have protected you sooner! Taken you to class every single day until they face punishment” Tanjiro let his heavy concern bleed out of him like a rapidly spilling wound, finally releasing from his tightening heart from it’s shackles as his arms continued to support you and lift you to your weak feet. Not even faltering one bit, Tanjiro kept gazing into your eyes with a soft smile

Those… gorgeous, sympathetic plum reds made you feel warm, fuzzy and glowing. As if all the hate and negativity over those girls’ harsh words were being vacuum-sucked out of your systems. You weren’t alone anymore, Tanjiro is here now and he knows everything but he only wished he knew sooner

He had failed you but no more, he refuses to fail you again

“Let it out, Dokusha… I promise, those girls won’t pick on you again. I will always be with you” Tanjiro gently spoke, treating your emotions as if they were as fragile as glass as he crouched down to pick you off your feet to better hold you in a defensive manner. You would have blown up in hot red blush and hysterically stutter at your longtime crush basically carrying you like a groom does to his bride but you were too upset to realise it, sobbing deeply and covering your face with your dainty, bruised palms

Tanjiro couldn’t standing have to hear your crying, each tear shed and sharp breath felt as if a knife was repetitively shanking his heart and it made him cringe at imaginary pain. You didn’t deserve to be in this much pain, you’re amazing. Why can’t those girls see that? See what he sees in you? You’re so sweet, so kind, so welcoming, so talented, so….

Beautiful

[trashytoastboi]

Day of Loyalty - Barbatos

~SFW Alphabet~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

🫖 Not very affectionate, not unless he’s alone with you. In public Barbatos will show you more warm smiles, he doesn’t often hold your hand or hug you. He may initiate contact in subtle ways by “fixing your clothes” or “There was something in your hair” On the surface it looks like he was just helping you with something but you know that is Barb’s way of being affectionate with you. 

B = Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

🫖 He’s a comforting friend and someone of wise counsel. Should you ever be facing something difficult you can trust in Barb’s advice, or at least be assured that he’ll gladly lend an ear to your problems. Sometimes all you need is a good vent and that’s what he encourages. He’s a safe space and you know your secrets are safe with him. He’s usually busy but that doesn’t stop him from spending time with you while he’s busy. You hang out a lot over call, sometimes he’ll have you chatting away in his ear on call while he’s busy with something and he’s humming, letting out little sounds to let you know he’s listening. He’ll bring the conversation up again later so you know he was listening 

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle) 

🫖 Barbatos enjoys cuddling to rest or sleep but he hardly ever allows himself to be idle so he doesn’t rest often enough. The only time you’ll really get to cuddle him is to sleep and that’s if you’re sleeping over at the castle for the night. You always insist that he doesn’t need to set up a guest room for you when you could just sleep in his. He’s still getting used to the idea of having someone waiting for him and sleeping besides him. Also wishes he took more breaks just so he could spend a bit of time with you. He rarely ever gets pampered and likes when you let him lay his head on your chest with you rubbing his back. 

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) 

🫖 10++++++ Is there anything he can’t do? Barbatos is a total whizz at all things domestic, such is the nature of his livelihood after all. Anything you may be craving for Barb would gladly make it for you, anything you want to drink? He’s on it. Through constant practice he’s become good enough to do everything like second nature. He loves it if you teach him recipes from the human world and likes learning alongside you. He always perfects it on the first try. 

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

🫖 He’s so eloquent about the whole thing. It takes a second to register that he ever so politely ended the relationship. It wasn’t working out, Barbatos explains why, his reasoning and politely saying that other partners may be a better fit for each of you. He’s not blaming or accusing, he balances logic with emotion and sincerely hopes that you understand his thoughts. He’s open for talking about things if you could find compromise or reasons to try. 

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quickly would they want to get married.)

🫖 He’s committed to his lord If you don’t mind sharing Barb with Diavolo as his first priority then Barbatos is actually very open to the idea of commitment. It’s not a decision he’d make lightly and wouldn’t decide right away. There would be a littering of conversations throughout the years until he’s willing to actually get married, there’s something he saw from the human realm called handfasting and he thinks it's a really nice concept. (He also calls a wedding a ‘Binding ceremony’)

G = Gentle (How gentle are they? Both physically and emotionally.)

🫖 He’s a gentle soul - or so you think. You have no reason to really think otherwise because Barb has always been gentle with you in action and words. If not gentle then at least courteous. There was a time where he did get pretty mad at you over something that happened in the demon lord’s castle and while his words were stern they were not vicious or nasty. 

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) 

🫖 He rarely hugs you, it’s not that he dislikes hugs. He just… doesn’t do them often. If it’s to comfort you he’ll gladly do it but aside from that he’s not often pulling you into hugs. When he does they’re soft, and he doesn’t squeeze you tightly but rather a gentle embrace is the way to explain his rare hugs. 

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-Word) 

🫖 Not quick to say it at all, it was a little unnerving for you always waiting for answer whenever you said that you loved him, Barb would smile and smoothly change the topic by means of complimenting you or saying something romantic but it wasn't “I love you”, you’d managed to get a “I’m quite fond of you” and I “I love that about you” out of him at least so you know you are on the right track to his heart. 

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?) 

🫖 Barbatos doesn’t really get jealous. He trusts you too much to think that anything was happening anyway. He’s mature about things, though he will make it known if he’s displeased about something. The only time Barb will put on a jealous display is if a stranger thought you were open for flirtatious conversation. He’s quick to make sure that whoever is bothering you is very aware that he’s your partner.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

🫖 Sweet, chaste and slow. Every kiss is something Barbatos savors, he takes his time when he kisses you. Your kisses are like fine wine to him and he wants to thoroughly enjoy them. He’ll always hold you close and cradle your face while kissing you. He likes kissing your lips and will occasionally kiss your hand as a greeting. He likes when you kiss him back, Barb can occasionally tease you by moving out of your reach to watch your attempts while trying to give him a kiss. 

L = Little Ones (How are they around children?)

🫖 Knows precisely how to handle them. He’s kind and smiles but something about Barb just tells kids not to fuck around and find out. Even the most disobedient child will step into line just from Barb speaking. He wouldn’t do anything, but they seem unwilling to find out. Barb just has that magic touch, he listens well to them and knows how to entertain kids. He could do without the mess but it’s to be expected. Once they opened the Demon Lord’s castle for the younger generation to come and learn about pivotal history, Barb was in charge of close to thirty demon fledglings and made sure to keep them orderly.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

🫖 For you, it’s relaxing. For Barb it’s busy. He’ll slip out of bed quietly to not disturb you and get himself ready then he’s off to prepare breakfast, tea, schedules before waking up Diavolo and getting him out of bed and dressed, while he’s waking up. Barb is waking you up with a cup of tea and a kiss, letting you know that he’s laid your clothes out and breakfast is waiting for you when you’re done. Sometimes Barbs goes a little above and beyond and will help you along, fixing your tie if you’re wearing your uniform and even brushing your hair. It’s so gentle and relaxing when he does it. 

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

🫖 It consists of you trying to get Barb to rest, he keeps saying one more task, one more task. When you eventually pull him away from his work you’re intent on helping him rest and relax because he needs it. Barb could be absolutely knackered and he’ll still offer to rub your shoulders if he thinks you need it, you swap the roles a lot and insist on doing it for him. He does resist saying he should be doing it for you, takes a lot of convincing to actually get Barb to rest. You’ll be chatting softly, massaging his shoulders and just relieving his stress from the day. 

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while and reveal things slowly?)

🫖 He’s a mystery, the more you learn the more questions you have. There’s some things you doubt you’d ever learn about Barb. He just smiles and tells you not to worry about it, the small details about him aren’t important he reassures you. Anytime a conversation probes a little too deep to something about himself that he doesn’t want you knowing he'll change the topic without you realizing it, you’ve grown accustomed to it and can pick up how subtly he shifts the conversation away from himself. 

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) 

🫖 He is good at hiding his temper, you’d never know if Barb was actually angry if he chose to hide it. He’s got patience to spare and you appreciate his level head when things are in disarray. You can’t name a single time you’ve ever seen Barb losing his head, aside from when a rat got into the castle. That was an entirely different side of Barb. That’s probably the only time you saw him so openly disgruntled. 

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or they kind of or forget everything?) 

🫖 He’ll remember everything easily. Every tiny detail you mentioned in passing, he knows it. He’d find himself accidentally making a lot more of your favorite snacks, food or even your favourite tea. The table is devoid of things you don’t like and filled with all the things you know He’d bring up things you like in conversation just to hear you talk about them and he’ll gladly listen to you rambling on and on about all the things you love and enjoy, getting more excited as you speak. It’s a wonderful sight for him to witness.

R = Remember (What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

🫖 When you saved him from the heinous rat like he was a pretty princess in peril Barbatos favorite moment was before the two of you even started dating, it was the moment that there was a shift in your relationship. The moment he realized he was a little more than a friend to you. When your platonic affection started to carry a deeper intimate feel to it. The moments leading up to when you confessed your feelings, Barb was already aware and so welcoming because he felt the same. 

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

🫖 He prioritizes your safety, you’d even call Barb a worrywart. He’s fussing over you making sure you'd be safe if you’re going somewhere without him. Reminding you of everything at your disposal and should you send your emergency signal, he’ll be there in a flash. You never understood why he’s so fussy about it but you appreciate him doting on you and caring for you as deeply as he does. Barb assures you he doesn’t need protection, he says this because he wants you safe. That’s his number one priority. Of course you don’t listen but you’re not reckless, you’d protect him and look out for yourself too knowing that will give him peace of mind.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

🫖 Barbatos never delivers anything less than perfect. He tries his utmost with everything because that is the standard he has set for himself. To put his all into everything. Barb is smart about it though and will employ some hacks and shortcuts with no impact on quality. Sometimes working smarter is better. He is both smart and hardworking with everything he does though. He’s attentive and always puts the utmost efforts into your dates and anniversaries. To the point of even taking a day off or a half day- that in itself is a big thing. Also he likes making your gifts, the meaningful ones. 

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

🫖 Work over everything. Barbatos gets too wrapped up in work and will sometimes forget that he is allowed to have a life outside of work. Sometimes he becomes too absorbed by his role, and forgets himself a little in the process. You’ve been good at reminding him to live outside of that role. You don’t encourage him to neglect his work but rather embrace the time that is his, when he’s not worried about work stuff. Telling him he can rest, let loose and be pampered when he’s off the clock. 

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) 

🫖 You’d never find something wrong with his appearance, that's for sure. There wouldn’t be a hair out of place and his clothes are always impeccable. Barbatos appears like he doesn’t have care towards his appearance but is sensitive to it. It’s a rarity to see him in casual clothing and it’s more like a treat when you get to see it. 

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

🫖 Barbatos is aware of your presence in his life, and the weight it holds. If you weren’t there it would be all too noticeable. He’d even be a little out of it. On the surface he’d look unaffected even if he missed you terribly on the inside, he lacks the words to describe the feeling. Does he feel incomplete? Or is it cold due to lacking your warm presence? 

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them)

🫖 He wants to get over his fear dislike of rodents…Rats in particular. Devildom rats if he’s really being specific. You’d told him the story of the pied piper and he wishes that he had something like that. Barbatos even seriously considered getting cats to roam the castle to get rid of the odd rat that would appear. Or he defaults to his solution and calls you to help him. 

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?)

🫖 Dishonest people, especially those who approach him and Diavolo out of personal greed. Barb agrees it’s good to be ambitious, but don’t do such things in the process. Those who spew deception as easily as breathing are dangerous, sure enough Barb has had his own handful of times when he’s been deceptive, or at the least withholds the truth but the reason wasn’t malicious. 

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?) 

🫖 He sabotages his own sleep schedule and will suddenly remember something he has to do before he’s about to sleep and it takes a lot of convincing to tell him it can wait until tomorrow and he can rest. When he does sleep, you notice he likes hugging his pillow and nuzzling into it. The unexpected cute side from the usual prim and proper demon was a surprise but completely welcomed. 

Taglist: @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @roninfromtheops

[thursdayinspace]

Tell me all your Requiem thoughts please

All of them would amount to quite an essay because I have a lot of (mostly positive) feelings about it, but I assume this is about my tags saying I have conflicting feelings about the scene in that motel room bed where Mulder tells Scully that there has to be an end and that she should go home. So I will happily talk about that!

I want to preface this by saying that I absolutely love their dynamic throughout the episode. And I love that moment when she comes to him feeling sick and he lays down on the bed with her and holds her and tells her there's more for her, that he wants her to have more. He wants her to be happy. There is so much love between them there, and it's so strong and so gentle at the same time, it's one of the most moving and beautiful moments between them without a doubt and I love it and it never fails to make me cry.

But. I still have very ambivalent feelings about the whole arc with Scully wanting to be a mother. NOT with the motel room scene (I love that one), but specifically with the arc. These feelings have nothing to do with the show or the characters specifically, and it's not an issue I had with it when it aired, but rather something that's only begun bothering me recently. I just sometimes wish that they hadn't introduced it at all, or done it better. For the simple reason that not all women want to be mothers, or they decide against it for other reasons -- like feeling passionate about their work and making that their priority, which is a perfectly valid reason to decide against something you might want very badly otherwise. And sometimes it doesn't sit quite right with me, especially in light of CC's general take on women, that eventually Scully simply has to want to have a child. I may be wrong about this and this might be the most unpopular opinion ever, and that's fine, but it reads to me a bit like "she must want this because she is a woman and women want kids."

The way it's written, it makes absolute sense for Mulder to tell her that there has to be an end, that he wants her to have everything she wishes for. I just sometimes wish for a version of events where we had seen her more conflicted about it. Where she could have made it clear in the moment that if it came to a choice between that dream and their mission, she'd choose to continue their work, with him. I also wish for a version of events where Mulder could have admitted that having a family is his dream as much as it is hers, because why does it have to be the woman who wants a family while the man wants to keep saving the world? (Just as a personal aside, I have friends who are right now getting divorced because he wants kids and she doesn't. It just rubs me the wrong way sometimes when the wish for a family is the woman's job.)

BUT! I know that Mulder and Scully are not in the same place emotionally about their work. Mulder has been committed to it pretty much his entire life. It's never been just a job for him. It always has to come first, and whatever dreams he may also have, he cannot give up the quest for the truth. Scully believes in the work too, it's important to her, she has suffered so much because of it and never stopped going. That says everything we need to know about how important it is to her. She doesn't want to give it up. It's been more than a job for her too for a long time. Her wish for a child is never about not being committed to what they do. And I think it becomes clear enough over time that Mulder does indeed want the same things she does, it's just more between the lines, less obvious. I do believe that under different circumstances, they would have decided to have a family together -- we see more to that effect later on in season 8 and at the end of season 9, not to mention in the revival. Which is why my issues with all of it are more about the way the story is handled, and less about it existing in the first place.

One more But: I do like the fact that a woman who loves her work and is fully committed to it can still want to be a mother. Both things can be true. And that can lead to great personal conflict. And that is a very interesting thing to explore. I just also feel like that is exactly what they didn't do. They sort of just stop at "she wants this one thing and also this other thing." She wants to keep fighting and searching for truths and she wants a kid, but what that would mean for her future is something that is never really properly addressed. It's never properly addressed what it does to her feelings, being torn between two things that mean so much to her. But that would have been really interesting to see. What does she actually want? What is going on in her heart and her soul?

Still, that scene, Requiem as a whole, is still very well done, in my opinion. Within the context of the story they're telling, that scene with them curled up in bed together is beautiful. It's as close to a declaration of love as we get at that point. And he's talking about her health as much as about her wish for a child. He's telling her that her happiness and safety is more important to him than anything else in the world. Her reaction is to hold onto his hand and touch her lips to it -- she doesn't want to go. He means as much to her as she means to him. His happiness and safety come first for her too. And I think they both know in that moment that she would never do what he's suggesting. I don't think she'd ever leave and let him continue on his own. He says "There's so much more you need to do with your life. There's so much more than this." But what is "more?"

Long story short: I love the scene in the motel room. I love the love between them and the tenderness of that moment. But I wish CC had been better at writing women, and had taken more time throughout all the episodes that address this to flesh out that part of the story, both for Scully and for Mulder.

Please, feel absolutely free to disagree with me, I never mind discussing these things or even being convinced otherwise. This is just my take on it.

[kaienmaru]

“okaay~ be careful so you don't let it out before you reach the bathroom, kintoki!” said with full sincerity and concern.

"Yes. The bathroom is SO far away". Rest in Pepperoni Sakamoto.