#and appreciating each other at the same time

[sergioguymanproust]

Howling is communication at a level that humans see and hear only but cannot perceive it or understand it .I’m talking about the common folk.The changes in decibels dictates the mood and reaction of the pack.We as mammals and thinking apes,lost the ability to communicate this way ,but we do howl in a lesser context.Only when we get excited and for far less reasons. Well, we’ve moved to speech ,to creating words that are less intense when it comes to expressing our feelings,our emotions and when we do get angry we don’t revert to biting or snarling but to screaming .You see our reactions tend to be as we evolve more mild.Although it is true in our prehistory we moved as packs and we instinctively resorted to that same hierarchy and Alpha Male running the show. These days things are more sophisticated and we like to believe we are above other species thanks to our intellect but let’s not kid each other ,we still at times behave like wolves. Showing our teeth and not smiling but showing a smirk and yes ,there are hundreds of micro expressions that clearly denounce our true like or dislike of others.Well,coming from the spiritual perspective shamans do revere wolves as spiritual guides. For the white man this is pure fiction,an imaginary when they are far less interested in how the right side of the brain affects our bodies and how we perceive reality.Wolves have been around far longer than humans 60 million years longer than us,and survived. So we mustn’t forget who has been a top predator longer than us. Howling is indeed according to our poor understanding just a cry for help,and locating the pack ,also for defining the pack territory.But Native Americans know better and are more in tune with the wild and spiritual nature of wolves. More in future postings.I believe you can gather what I’m talking about.I truly appreciate my followers and wish them a thousand blessings. Words by Sergio GuymanProust.

[girlkisser13]

being married to toji fushiguro would include

• toji is fiercely protective of you, even if he doesn’t always express it. he doesn’t hover or ask if you’re okay every five minutes, but he notices when something’s off and is always there to back you up.

• he doesn’t say "i love you" often, but his actions speak louder than words— shielding you from harm or making sure you’re always safe, especially when the dangers of his life as a former assassin creep in. still, he’d maintain his space, valuing his independence but always watching out for you.

• he’s the kind of guy who doesn’t put up with nonsense, so when it comes to household matters, he’s straightforward.

• if there’s a problem, he deals with it quickly, often in a practical manner. that said, he’d also likely appreciate the quiet comfort of being at home with you, especially after a long day of dealing with the outside world.

• while toji doesn’t come across as soft, there are moments when he shows his care in small ways— maybe brushing your hair out of your face or sharing a fleeting but tender look when you’re alone.

• he’s not one for big romantic gestures, but when he does something for you, it’s meaningful, like getting you your favorite drink or taking care of things when you’re overwhelmed.

• he may not always have a lot to say, but if you’re going through something difficult, toji is there for you. he’d stay silent, listening without judgment, and give you a quiet, reassuring presence.

• his support might not be verbal, but his actions would show that he’s there for the long haul, no matter what.

• if you two had kids, toji would be a hands-on (we are ignoring the fact that he is canonically an absent father), though unconventional, father.

• he’ll play it cool, acting like he’s not that interested, but you’ll catch him watching baby videos on his phone when he thinks you’re not looking.

• he’d teach them about survival, how to fight, and how to protect what’s theirs, all while being the solid, reliable figure they need, even if he doesn’t know how to express it all the time.

• toji’s not great with emotions, but he’ll secretly adore his kids, and you’ll know it by the way he keeps an eye on them from a distance or his subtle ways of making sure they have what they need, even when he won’t say it out loud.

• the trust between you two would be solid. toji would expect you to be honest with him, and he’d give you the same respect. you wouldn’t need to speak all the time to understand each other; there’d be a deep, unspoken connection, even in the moments of silence.

• don’t expect anything overly sweet or cheesy. toji’s idea of romance might involve getting you something practical, like new clothes for a dangerous mission or fixing something around the house.

• but those small acts of care would mean more to you than any grand gesture.

• life with toji is a rollercoaster of questionable financial choices.

• his idea of a budget is more of a vague suggestion. you could go to bed with a full savings account, and by morning, he’s bought a motorcycle, a new set of knives (because he deserves them), and a ridiculously expensive set of rare steaks— because, apparently, that’s how you live life.

• he will ALWAYS justify impulse buys with, "it was on sale."

• toji is very independent, and while he might not ask for help, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t need it. if something breaks or goes wrong around the house, he’ll absolutely try to fix it himself first— no matter how unqualified he is for the job.

• broken sink? he’ll attempt to fix it with duct tape and some questionable youtube tutorials. the worst part? he’s usually successful… in a very "that’ll work for now" way.

• he doesn’t exactly plan grand romantic gestures, but when he does do something sweet, it’s always unexpected.

• like that time he brought home your favorite food when you didn’t ask for it, or when you were having a rough day, and he somehow found the exact book you were looking for, even though you didn’t mention it. it’s not always flashy, but it’s the little things that show he’s paying attention.

• also, this man is WAYY too confident.

• he’s usually pretty calm, but when he’s certain about something— whether it’s a decision, a plan, or a random idea— good luck trying to change his mind.

• he’ll insist he’s right, even if he’s 99% sure he’s not, and he’ll have a smug look on his face while doing it. it’s an annoying habit, but somehow, he pulls it off.

• toji’s idea of date night involves grabbing takeout and binge-watching random action movies, preferably while he’s armed with snacks he’s "borrowed" from the convenience store.

• he’s surprisingly a pretty good cook (when he takes his time).

• it’s usually something straightforward— steak, grilled chicken, or ramen— but when he actually tries, it’s surprisingly tasty. the best part? he’ll act like it’s no big deal, even though you know he’s secretly proud of himself for not burning anything.

• toji is your scary dog privilege.

• he exudes an aura of danger, which makes you feel untouchable. not that he tries to look intimidating, but it’s hard not to notice when people start treating you both with a certain amount of caution just because he’s around.

• whether it’s the way he moves, the way he talks, or just the fact that people know better than to cross him, you’ll get used to the unspoken respect (or fear) that follows him.

• he’s not the type to smother you with affection, but he has his ways of showing he cares. whether it’s leaving a random "you good?" text, adjusting your coat when he notices you’re cold, or letting you take the last slice of pizza (even though he’s definitely eyeing it).

• while toji is pretty sharp when it comes to violence or strategy, he’s totally lost when it comes to social situations or subtle hints.

• you’ll find yourself frequently having to explain things multiple times because he either didn’t catch your tone or completely misinterpreted the situation.

• if you try to drop hints, he’ll stare at you blankly, and then you’ll have to go into full detail before he understands what you’re saying. it’s frustrating, but also kind of endearing, considering how smart he is in other areas.

• although he’ll never openly say it, in those quiet moments when he watches you sleep or shares a rare smile, you know you’re his soft spot. toji fushiguro has made you his world, and his devotion to you speaks louder than words ever could. <33

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Intimacy

Intimacy - an integral part of a healthy relationship and essential in building bonds within interpersonal relationships.

To honestly know and feel emotionally close to another person, developing intimacy with them through appreciation and affection is crucial.

Feeling close and comfortable with partners is the key to long-lasting relationships.

Ways to Build Intimacy in a Relationship

It takes effort to build and maintain intimate relationships as people can grow and change. Consider the following ways to increase the level of intimacy in relationships:

Show your appreciation. Showing appreciation demonstrates that you value the other person in a relationship. You can show appreciation by saying thank you, buying gifts, and returning favors.

Display physical affection. Intimacy commonly refers to sexual activity, but there are many ways to build physical intimacy. Hug your loved ones and give them a shoulder to lean on to strengthen the bond between you. If you are in a sexual relationship, holding hands in public and cuddling can help maintain intimacy and a healthy sex life.

Work on communication. No matter how long you’ve known each other, there’s always more to discover about your loved ones. Human beings grow and change. Make an effort to learn about each other on a deeper level by asking questions and listening. The more you talk to each other, the more layers you will uncover about the other person. Communication can help build emotional closeness.

Spend time together. Schedule time together to share an experience and learn more about each other. Prioritizing friend dates and romantic dates can strengthen your relationships.

Work on a project together. Do an activity together you both enjoy. Activities, particularly challenging ones, can give you time to bond and can help build your experiential intimacy.

Intellectual Intimacy - the intellectual connection between two people in a romantic relationship.

To share intimacy of any sort, people need to feel they can be their true selves around their significant other.

On an intellectual level, this means feeling happy to freely share opinions about current events, enjoy similar forms of entertainment, or learn how to do new things together.

Benefits of Intellectual Intimacy

Intellectual intimacy helps build a foundation for successful relationships. Here are just three key benefits to expect when you become more intellectually intimate with your partner:

Greater intellectual stimulation: Both parties in a relationship stand to gain from intellectual intimacy on a purely individual level. If you and your partner share the same interests, it’s far easier to stimulate each other on an intellectual plane than if you had no common ground.

Increased connection: Even though intellectual intimacy might sound quite cerebral, it can bring about an extensive degree of emotional closeness as well. It can help improve your mental health and counteract any insecurities you might have since you’ll develop greater confidence as you see a person you love taking your thoughts and interests seriously. This mutual sense of love and respect is essential to any healthy relationship.

More common ground: The more things you share in common, the more opportunities you have to create a feeling of safety and security for your partner. People feel at ease around others who see the world in roughly the same way as they do. This can help both of you get over any residual fear of intimacy and improve the well-being of your relationship.

How to Build Intellectual Intimacy

Sharing similar interests is just the beginning of intellectual intimacy. Keep these tips in mind while building intimacy with your significant other on an intellectual level:

Ask about your partner’s opinions. Create a safe space for your partner to earnestly share their opinions about both trivial and deep topics. Allow them to work through insecurities and past traumas with you. Talk about your opinions on world events.

Learn new skills together. The more common interests you share, the richer your connection will be. Find hobbies you both have an interest in and commit to pursuing them together. If you’re having a hard time deciding on a specific pursuit, consider asking a therapist or relationship coach for advice.

Plan a vacation together. When you go through life together, you grow closer simply by experiencing the same things. Put your heads together to plan a romantic getaway. Along the way, you’ll learn how both of you think and problem-solve, as well as how you can complement each other. This allows you to pair experiential intimacy with intellectual closeness.

Share your favorite media with each other. Watch movies and television shows together. Read the same books. Share memes and online videos with each other that you think the other will find funny. Send each other news articles. You'll feel closer to each other when you share a similar attitude and outlook about the world.

Talk about core values. Spend time learning how your partner feels about the world. It’s better to seek out commonalities in a relationship than to constantly attack another person’s point of view. Be honest with each other about your personal values so you can be sure you’re a good match.

Types of Intimacy

Intellectual intimacy is one aspect of a loving relationship. Consider 3 more types of closeness worth cultivating:

Emotional intimacy: Connecting on an emotional level is essential to any relationship. Emotional intimacy means learning to share the ups and downs of each other’s lives through good times and bad. It means being a shoulder to cry on, a person to laugh with, or a calming presence in times of stress. At the same time, it means relying on your partner to provide you with emotional support when you need it, too.

Sexual intimacy: Your sex life is one part of your relationship, but it’s still an important one. Physical intimacy often operates as an outward act to solidify how both you and your partner feel about each other on a deeper level. When you connect with your significant other on an emotional and intellectual level, you’ll likely have a richer sexual relationship as a result.

Spiritual intimacy: If you hold spiritual beliefs, sharing the same worldview with your partner affords you both an opportunity for even deeper intimacy. In contrast, if you come from different schools of thought, you can still learn a lot from each other and grow closer as a result.

Spiritual Intimacy - the connection between two people over a system of beliefs. 

Romantic partners might be devoted to more than just each other.

Both people, or maybe just one, might also have a religious life in which they believe in the existence of a god, a higher power, or some other divine or special being. Couples who have a spiritual life will find spiritual intimacy integral to their relationship’s well-being.

Couples building spiritual intimacy will find that practicing religion together can strengthen emotional intimacy and fortify a long-term or marriage relationship.

For some, spiritual matters are crucial to finding a partner of the same faith.

Historically, this was common practice—single people and matchmakers would seek out like-minded individuals as partners—and still is in some parts of the world.

Today, however, spiritual relationships can be more fluid; people with different views on God’s love, the afterlife, and prayer are more likely to intermingle and experience a rich spiritual closeness.

Examples of Spiritual Intimacy

Spiritual intimacy can take many forms, many of which benefit the spouses or partners and the health of their relationship. Signs of spiritual intimacy include:

Clear support: Faith offers many people a support system. You can give your partner prayer requests in hard times to know they are considering you and your relationship needs.

Emotional closeness: Discussing faith can mean pondering life’s big questions. This can open couples up to one another and lead to sharing feelings and tighter bonds.

Physical intimacy: Some faiths prescribe how to practice physical intimacy. This can give couples clear guidelines with which to work. Similarly, practicing faith can bring people closer, intensifying their sexual chemistry.

Strong trust: Sharing a set of beliefs can elicit greater trust. Knowing another person’s value system often means understanding how they will behave and what practices they will follow.

How to Foster a Spiritual Connection With Someone

You can engender a stronger spiritual relationship in a few ways. Consider the following methods to promote spiritual growth in a relationship:

Celebrate high holidays. Infuse the high holidays with festive flair and enthusiasm. You can also celebrate the holidays of other religions with friends and family who practice them to give you a deeper appreciation of others’ faith.

Commit to self-love. Practice kindness when it comes to yourself and your interactions with your partner and others. When you love your true self and practice radical self-acceptance, you are better prepared to accept and love others, too—maybe even despite their flaws.

Practice your faith. Set aside time to practice your religion with your partner. You might attend a study group (such as a Bible study), visit a house of worship, or even listen to a spiritual podcast together.

Share your weaknesses. To forge a deeper connection, share your shortcomings and the ways in which faith has been instrumental in your personal growth. Be truthful with your partner.

Emotional Intimacy - the vulnerability and trust that significant others build with one another to sustain a healthy relationship.

This form of intimacy shows emotional support between romantic partners.

Intimate relationships rely on more than physical attraction; building emotional bonds can increase relationship satisfaction and make each person feel appreciated, heard, and loved.

A lack of emotional intimacy can make partners feel distant and unloved.

Examples of Emotional Intimacy

Emotional intimacy can take many forms. Consider the following qualities of an emotionally intimate partner and examples of how to express emotional intimacy:

Appreciative: Expressing thanks is a small act that can quickly communicate how much your partner means to you and how you appreciate their help and support.

Vulnerable: Being vulnerable is a crucial aspect of emotional intimacy. Openly expressing your feelings invites your partner to do the same and shows that no topic is taboo.

Supportive: Stay attuned to your partner’s needs to build emotional intimacy. If your partner experiences stress, be present and available and volunteer to step in and assist.

Thoughtful: Sometimes, it’s the little things that display emotional intelligence: You can buy your partner flowers or gifts, take them out for a date night, or write them a card on a special day or anniversary. Proactively showing affection is an excellent way to express love for your partner.

How to Build Emotional Intimacy

Emotional intimacy contributes to the success of a sustained relationship. Consider the following methods to build emotional vulnerability in a relationship:

Ask your partner how they feel. Sharing your emotions is a necessary process in a successful relationship. Ask your partner how they feel, and know they may return the question to you. Be thoughtful about what you share and express. Practicing vulnerability with each other can help build trust in a relationship.

Change up your routine. Changing daily habits and patterns in your relationship can show new paths outside the comfort zone that may invite greater vulnerability.

Give affirmations freely. Sometimes, you get what you give. If you readily provide words of affirmation, your partner may return compliments to you and stimulate a stronger emotional bond.

Keep a journal. You may have an easier time writing down feelings than expressing them outwardly. Keep a journal to connect with your emotions and better understand how to communicate them with others.

See a relationship coach. Therapists or relationship coaches can help partners better understand how they communicate and show emotional intimacy toward one another.

Sexual Intimacy - a connection between sexual partners that relies on simultaneous physical attraction and emotional vulnerability.

The physical act of sex can be stimulating, but deeper feelings, trust, and care promote sexual chemistry in intimate relationships.

Building sexual intimacy through an emotional connection can lead to more satisfying sexual experiences.

Sexual, emotional, experiential, intellectual, and physical intimacy all contribute to healthy, lasting relationships.

Sexually Intimate vs. Sexually Disconnected

Sexually intimate and sexually disconnected relationships can both involve physical contact and genital stimulation, but they differ emotionally.

Sexual intimacy comes from a positive place: a generosity between sexual partners and a desire to pleasure one another.

Sexual intimacy necessitates vulnerability, risk-taking, and trust.

Sexually disconnected partners, meanwhile, might have sex but struggle with trust and other forms of intimacy, such as nonsexual physical touch or emotional intimacy.

In disconnected relationships, partners want to experience sexual pleasure, but the sex often becomes more rote and less intense.

This might happen to long-term relationships or married couples not working on spicing up their sex life.

Sometimes, couples without intimacy stop having sex entirely, which can breed resentment.

Benefits of Sexual Intimacy

Building sexual intimacy can have several physical and mental health benefits. Consider the following advantages:

Connectivity: Sexual intimacy brings two people closer through communication and understanding. Deep emotional bonds can lead to better sex. Emotional connectedness is an important factor for sexual activity involving kink and sexual fantasies.

Endorphins: Sex releases feel-good endorphins that lead to stress reduction and happiness, which help your overall well-being.

Mental health: Sex can center your breathing and help you relax, improving your mental health.

Self-esteem: Awakening your sexual self and feeling desired by another can increase your self-esteem and make you move through the world more confidently.

How to Build Sexual Intimacy

If you have intimacy issues or want to build sexual chemistry with a new partner, try these tactics:

Ask your partner what they want. All relationships require open communication, particularly when it comes to sex. See if your partner has any preferences and support their desires.

Delay sex. With new couples, delaying sex can increase desire. Waiting a little longer to have sex can keep a charge in the air and boost your sex drive.

Give new positions a try. Change your regular sexual practices; you may find that you like something new. You can also try having sex at different times of the day to see if your mood shifts.

Keep a journal. Writing about intimacy in a journal can help you identify issues and relationship needs.

See a sex therapist. Couples and individuals can also start sex therapy. Professional sex therapists give partners prompts and techniques to break down barriers, speak more openly, and engage in more vulnerable sexual activity.

Nonphysical Ways to Foster Sexual Intimacy

Kissing and vaginal, anal, and oral sex involve physical touch, but there are also nonphysical ways for romantic partners to practice foreplay or foster sexual intimacy. 

Sexting—sending sexy text messages—is one way to stimulate you and your partner, and sustained eye contact or verbal banter and flirting are other methods to manifest attraction.

Sometimes, these acts lead to physical intimacy, such as hugging, kissing, or cuddling.

However, they do not have to—withholding from sex can augment sexual desire and lead to more satisfying sexual experiences.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[mononijikayu]

widower! nanami pt 1.

widower! nanami kento who slowly found himself waking up with a bright wide smile on his lips as he slipped into a quiet, comfortable routine with you in this pandemonium called life as the sun rose in the wide expanse of the morose sky. 

everything has started to be comfortable to him when it comes to being with you. more than what his life had been without you. day after day, this life he was living with you had become one that became second nature. it was as though this new genuine and tender presence in his life felt as effortless as breathing.

widower! nanami kento’s mornings begin when he’s sitting across from you, listening to the birds perched up in the trees as they sing. each day began as you hummed along with the birds, eyeing them with satisfaction. his caramel eyes trailing your golden glow as you point out the birds by the names you gave them.

soon enough, time passes by and your hand is warm against his own. you both burst into small conversations over coffee as you bask in the sunset beam, and late into the moonlit evenings ended with gentle goodnights exchanged under the dim glow of porch lights where you both part your ways and leave, thoughts trailing every bit of wonder gifted to each other as you both lay down on your beds, smiling, knowing that you will live such a life again when the sun rises once more. 

with each passing day, the massive gaps in his grievous heart didn’t feel so gaping anymore; the weight of his never–ending grief, though still present each and every moment, was something he no longer carried alone. you were there to carry it with him, as much as you were bringing warmth to his long lonely hands as you carried it against your tender palm.

widower! nanami kento who slowly lets himself indulge in the wondrous warmth you offered him. little by little, he had let these small things you do mellow him into a harmony that brought him back to life. at times, it was allowing his long fingers to linger just a second longer when he handed you a cup of tea, or listening to your gentle voice with an intensity that spoke of deep appreciation.

everything about it wasn’t rushed. and it wasn’t hurried, either. but nanami kento was sure that it was there. he started to notice that there had been a shift, that there had been a change in the air between you two, one that was no longer just quiet courtship dancing around companionship but the beginning of something more, something deeper — one that he’d never expected.

widower! nanami kento who becomes so damn red as he hesitated before taking your hand on a chilly evening walk from the cafe you ate at, his caramel eyes glancing shakily at you as if asking for permission to cage it with his own. and when you smiled back at him so beautifully, eagerly entwining your fingers with his as if it was the most natural thing in the world, he just knew. this was it. you were it for him.

all the way while, he felt his heart stutter in a way it hadn’t in years. it was almost as though he was that young shy, flustered boy again, the one who had first learned what it meant to love.

he could feel the rush of warmth spreading through his chest, the slight hitch in his breath, the way the world around him seemed to narrow to just this moment. it was all achingly familiar, yet impossibly distant, like a melody half-remembered from a dream when he looked at you. 

kento had thought he’d outgrown this feeling, that time had worn it down to nothing but a distant echo. he hadn’t thought about this before, that this could be happening to him again. this feeling of love, this want to love, to live for love.

and yet, here it was, surging back to life with the same reckless intensity. the weight of experience, of heartbreak, of all the years that had hardened him, seemed to vanish in an instant. kento was just him again. that boy in love, who was unguarded, vulnerable, and utterly, helplessly captivated.

widower! nanami kento who still visited his wife’s grave, still whispered those sweet quiet apologies into the abundant wind, but he knew that there was no longer because he felt trapped in his grief. no—this time, it was different. this time, he spoke not just of loss, but of you. about the life he had found himself living again, with you by his side. 

kento knew he was smiling as he told her stories of you, as if he was alive again. he didn’t realize how much he was saying, about the light you brought into his dark lonely days. he spoke of the small, bright moments that made life feel like something he could cherish again. and he knew his wife was smiling with him. 

he knew it was because he was alive again, smiling in that boisterous beam that his wife had loved and knew. he knew it would mean a lot to you, that the grief he had held from the loss of her had started to be enveloped by the hope of being loved again.

that’s why kento knew that if you were here with him, the winds would graciously kiss your warm cheek. and he would know that it was that thankful kiss that could only come from his wife, thanking you for being an angel, for bringing back what should be.

widower! nanami kento watched as the deep amber glow of the kitchen light cast soft shadows over the room, pooling in the hollows of his face as he sat across from you. his fingers curled loosely around the stem of his wine glass, though he had long forgotten about the drink in favor of watching you.

for a moment, he looked away to check on the dinner cooking in the oven when he heard you gasp loudly with exaggeration. he turned to you who had just spilled a small splash of red wine onto your shirt, only to dissolve into laughter a second later, shaking your head at your own clumsiness. his face contorts as he moved towards you almost immediately, concerned. but you merely continued to laugh.

“are you okay?” he’d asked you, shaking your head as you laughed.

"i am, i am. don’t worry." you huffed, biting back another deep giggle as you dabbed at the stain with a napkin. "well, so much for trying to be elegant about it."

kento let out a slow breath, something dangerously close to a chuckle ghosting past his lips. "you were never in any real danger of that, don’t worry." he murmured, his voice laced with fond amusement.

your beautiful bright eyes flicked up to him, still crinkled with mirth, and the sight of you in that moment. the way the light caught in your hair, the effortless ease with which you laughed, all of it had struck something deep in his chest.

he swallowed thickly, suddenly hyper aware of the warmth curling in his ribcage, the way it had begun to take up more and more space inside him. and it was overwhelming, especially as your laughters bellowed together like it was the perfect choir. he didn't know when it had happened, but at some point, he had stopped just appreciating your presence and had begun yearning for it instead.

It was a dangerous realization to him, as much as he thought it was natural. one that left him feeling unsteady, like standing too close to the edge of something vast and unknowable. one that he feels tender, as though it was as fond and familiar as taking in the air in his lungs.

"you okay?" you asked, tilting your head slightly, your laughter softening into something gentler.

kento hesitated for only a fraction of a second before nodding. "yes, don’t worry." he said, voice steady, betraying nothing. "just... i suppose i haven't laughed like that in a long time.”

something flickered across your beautiful face—understanding, maybe. or something softer. yet figuring that out somehow didn’t matter. not when you smiled at him so brightly, he could feel his chest tightening at the sight of you. 

"guess i'll have to spill wine more often, then, don’t i?" you teased.

and he should have responded with something dry, something nonchalant. but instead, he just looked at you—really looked at you. and all the words that settled on his tongue, the ones he didn't dare to say, burned like an ember behind his ribs.

i want this. he realizes from the depths of his soul. i want to be with you for the rest of my life.

instead, kento took a slow sip of his wine once again, watching as you grinned at him and excused yourself so you could wash up. kento moves away from his drink and onto the guest room cabinet, bringing you clothes he had from his sister when she came over and handed it to you. all the while thinking of how he loves you.

widower! nanami kento who sat across from you at the kitchen table, his heart unsteady in his chest as he watched you sway absently to the soft music playing from the speaker. the wine stained shirt in the corner is forgotten, your fingers tapped against the table in time with the melody, your body moving instinctively with the rhythm.

when you turned to him with that bright smile of yours and your gentle outstretched hand, he found himself at the crux of hesitation. “dance with me, kento!” you said, your voice light, inviting. “come on!”

widower! nanami kento who almost said no, because it had been years since he had held someone like that—since he had allowed himself to. but then you wiggled your fingers playfully, coaxing, patient as always.

he found himself exhaling a quiet, resigned, utterly down right fond sigh before slipping his own hand into the warmth of yours. he was helpless when it came to you. that was already certain before, but now it is more stronger. he had just realized he loved you, after all.

widower! nanami kento whose breath caught when you pulled him close, your free hand settling against his shoulder as you led him into an easy, swaying rhythm in the middle of his kitchen. the room was dimly lit, the air thick with something unspoken, something warm, something he wasn’t sure he deserved.

kento found that, despite himself, realized that he found comfort in the way your body moved so closely with his, the warmth between the two of you made him feel the butterflies all over his stomach. the way you smiled at him as you swayed to the music had made his heart skip a beat, you were so beautiful like this, when you were close to him. 

widower! nanami kento who, when you rested your head against his chest and let out a contented sigh, couldn’t help but close his eyes for a moment, allowing himself to feel—really, truly feel—the quiet peace of it all. the peace he knows he can only find in you.

kento couldn’t help but murmured against your hair. “i didn’t realize how much i missed this.” his voice barely above a whisper, as though saying it any louder might break the fragile sanctity of the moment.

widower! nanami kento who, when you tilted your head up to meet his gaze, saw something in your bright eyes. something warm, something patient, something unwavering. and for the first time in years, he let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, he could reach for it.

he felt his breath hitch as you lifted a hand, fingertips brushing delicately over his cheek, the touch so gentle it made his heart stutter. he had been careful, so careful—not to overstep, not to let himself want too much. to be too greedy. but here you were, looking at him like he was something worthy of love, of tenderness, of a second chance.

widower! nanami kento who almost closed his caramel eyes when you spoke, because the words were so quiet, so reverent, so devoted, so tender, that they wrapped around his heart like a prayer — “i love you too, kento.”

he swore he felt the earth shift beneath his feet at the sound of his name in your ethereal voice, at the certainty in it. no hesitation. no conditions. there was nothing else but that look of love, that sound of love. it was just that pure unadulterated love. a love so freely given, the type of love he had once feared he would never feel again.

widower! nanami kento who, for a long moment, said nothing in response. he could only tightened his arms around you, pulling you impossibly closer, until there was no space left between you, until he could feel the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against his own.

when he finally did speak, pressed his forehead to yours and breathed. “you have no idea how much that means to me.”

widower! nanami kento who couldn’t help but lean in closer to kiss you then and there—not so desperate, not so hurried, either. but with the kind of quiet, devoted reverence only a man who has known loss and dared to love again could offer.

kento knew at that moment he had finally stepped out of the shadows of his grief because with you, in this quiet kitchen, with your hands in his and your love wrapped around him, he was no longer just surviving.

nanami kento was home in your arms.

[uncleasriel]

vis @sunesim

#pluto naoki urasawa#astro boy#tetsuwan atom#exactly yes to all of this!#I really appreciate and admire how urasawa handled his take on astro boy it’s incredible#as an astro boy fan I loved seeing the core elements of astro boy through a more grounded lens#astro boy is dark but at its core about humanity and hope and urasawa captured that beautifully

I'm glad you liked my musings!

I think that's what makes Urasawa work so well. He's not afraid to acknowledge that people are capable of some truly depraved things, but he doesn't wallow in it, either. Human decency is also part of the human condition and to forget that is to quite literally let the darkness win.

Osamu Tezuka was a teenager during the second world war,and was in university when Hiroshima and Nagasaki were bombed. A life time of nationalist propaganda as background radiation came crashing down, but his love of art, theatre and movies gave for a richer context. Like many Japanese young people of this era he had a strong anti-war, anti-authoritarian attitude and it comes through strongly in his work. We're all in this thing called The World together, and so we have to learn to live with one another - even when people are Not Good to each other.

Urasawa recognizes this and basically adult-ifies it - focusing on elements in this world and drawing parallels from Tezuka's 1964 original story (which, while simple, spoke to post WW2 anxieties) and uses them to examine the same anxieties in 2003.

The thing is, Pluto shouldn’t work as well as it does. It’s literally taking Astro Boy and reimagining it as a noir murder mystery/psychological thriller. Taking something cute and lighthearted and making it dark and gritty is such a bullshit concept.

AND YET. That’s not what Pluto is at all. Because for all the cuteness in Astro Boy, the arc Pluto is adapting is about the horrors of war. Osamu Tezuka was a young man during WWII and that absolutely plays a role in a lot of his manga.

And for all that Urasawa’s works have a lot of very dark content and a high body count, there’s always such a beautiful cord of hope and humanity under it all. At the very worst times, there is still kindness and love and hope! Always! Two lonely, deeply traumatized men can have a picnic with good wine and good cheese! A robot that was built to be a weapon of war can learn to play the piano! The world can end, over and over, and we’ll still have music!

Pluto isn’t gritty or grimdark. Like all of Urasawa’s works, it’s got a beautiful, human heart.

[ceoofglytchell]

So this is love

Summary: From the moment you took your first breath, you were meant for each other. You are his twin, the missing part of his soul, and Aegon swore to himself that he would do anything in his might to make you happy.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Twin Sister!Reader

Word count: 4355 words

Warnings: Incest, Reader has Targaryen features, tooth rotting Fluff, brief description of a birth, forced underage marriage, idiots in love, suggestive themes, brief mention of smut, talks of possible infertility, no mention of Y/N

Notes: I am late as usual, sorry. Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated 💛

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Alicent Hightower never expected to give birth to twins in her first pregnancy, but the gods seemed to have had a plan.

The midday sun shone high in the sky above King's Landing and warm rays of sunlight streamed through the windows as the young queen let out one last painful cry and suddenly an even more shrill, high-pitched scream cut through the air. The cry of a newborn echoed through the chamber and Alicent fell back onto the pillows, exhausted, relief spreading through her.

A maester held the screaming, bloody bundle in his arms, a gentle, almost fatherly smile spreading across his old features. Her husband was not in the room to assist her with the birth. Neither was Rhaenyra.

"It's a boy, Your Grace," the older man in the white robe and the many chains around his neck told the young wife, causing tears of joy to run down her cheeks. The birth had been quick, thank the gods, and she would not have to go through that ordeal again.

The king now had a male heir to the throne.

But suddenly another stabbing pain ran through her abdomen. At first Alicent thought it was the afterbirth, but that was not the case. Her hand found the curve of her rounded belly again and, with wide eyes in shock, she realized that the little boy was not the only one that had been growing inside her for nine months.

"There... there's another one," gasped the young Hightower, whimpering in pain.

The maester immediately handed the boy over to one of the midwives who were in the far corner of the chamber. He hurried back to his queen and looked between her thighs. She was right. There was indeed a second child.

Twins.

"The gods have blessed you, my queen. They are twins," said the maester as he helped her get into the right position again.

Alicent just hoped that the second time would be over just as quickly. A few minutes of pain and then joy. She did not want to lie bleeding and torn on the sheets like Viserys' first wife.

A cloud obscured the sun in the sky and Alicent burst into tears for the second time that day and screamed with all her might as she tried with all her might to bring her Lord Husband a second miracle. She did not know where he was, or if he even knew that she was giving birth to his children, but she hoped that he would be happy in the end. She had done her duty. If he was merciful, he would be happy with two children.

Minutes passed and suddenly the time had come. A second shrill scream echoed through the chambers and mixed with the cries of the little boy who was busy screaming his little lungs out.

The young queen held her breath as the maester took the second bundle in his arms to check that it was healthy. A minute passed and he looked down at her with another smile, although this one was a little more polite than the previous one.

"A girl," he finally stated, wrapped the newborn in soft cloths and handed the little one over to the queen.

At the same time, the midwife approached from the other side and placed the boy in her other arm. Full of love and with tears of joy in her eyes, Alicent Hightower looked down at her twins.

They were beautiful. Two little angels with silver hair and purple eyes. They would need names.

Suddenly the door opened and King Viserys, first of his name, hurried in with an excited glint in his tired eyes. But instead of immediately going to his wife's side to ask about her or to look at the newborns, he turned to the maester, who was a good friend of his.

She didn't hear his question, but she heard the older man's answer: "A boy and a girl, my king. Twins."

Viserys whispered something else and the maester quickly replied: "The boy, your grace."

She could guess what he asked. Who was out first?

Her husband let out a sigh of relief and only then did he approach the birthing bed and look at the two sleeping babies that his wife was holding in her arms.

"They are beautiful, my wife. You did very well," Viserys finally said, brushing a wet strand of hair from the queen's face.

"They will need names, husband," she replied wearily, looking up at him with uncertain brown eyes.

"We will call the boy Aegon. A strong name. He will honor the Conqueror's name."

Alicent looked down at the baby she held in her right arm. Aegon. A weight came with that name and it seemed as if the little life which only saw the light of day for a first time a few minutes ago, has already faded away to some extent.

"And the girl..." Viserys hesitated for a moment before finally saying your name. It was a beautiful name and suited you. It didn't have the same weight as Aegon's, but it was still meaningful.

The young queen smiled gently and pressed a kiss to your forehead and that of your twin.

That day the whole court had a reason to celebrate. Finally there was a male heir to the Iron Throne.

"Aegon, give it back, it's mine!" you shouted loudly as you ran after your twin through the dark corridors of the Red Keep.

Servants quickly moved aside and knights of the Kingsguard just sighed as the young Prince Aegon ran past them, closely followed by his younger twin sister, as if the stranger himself was on their heels.

You had only recently had your fourteenth name day, but you still chased each other and played with each other like you were little children who had only recently discovered the joy of play and fun.

Aegon held a pink silk hairband in his hand that your little sister Helaena had given you for your name day. It wasn't much or anything special, but because it came from her it was all the more special. Aemond had given you a small wooden dragon figurine that sat on your nightstand and would hopefully never fall into Aegon's clumsy hands.

"Go get it!" he called over his shoulder, laughing, whereupon you uttered a little curse that you certainly shouldn't know at your age.

Aegon ran sharply around a corner and slammed into something hard. He fell back to the floor and lay there for a few seconds, staring up at the ceiling and still holding the hairband in his fist.

Without looking where exactly you were running to, you ran around the corner as well. You suddenly saw a large figure in front of you, but before you could stop, you tripped over something lying on the floor and fell down just like that, breathing heavily and looking at the ceiling.

"Have you gone mad?!" shouted Ser Criston Cole and immediately knelt down next to you. Apparently you had overlooked the knight.

Aegon giggled and looked at the older man with an amused expression in his bright violet eyes, whom he sometimes saw more as his own father than the king. "Sorry."

The prince was about to stand up again when you suddenly jumped onto his stomach and tried as best you could to pull your hairband out of his hand: "Give it to me, Aegon!"

"Say it nicely!" he replied and only gripped the hairband tighter while you pulled on the ends.

"Fuck you!" you replied, whereupon Ser Criston could no longer look away, grabbed you by the hips and carried you away from your twin.

"Let me go, please! He stole my hairband," you explained, struggling against the knight's grip like a wildling behind the wall.

"Did he now?" he said with a sigh and looked down at Aegon, who slowly sat up again. His silver hair was disheveled and fell in wild strands over his face. Yours looked no different.

"Perhaps," the boy replied with a shrug.

"You should give it back to her, my prince. She's your sister," Cole said and slowly let go of you, but he kept a hand on your shoulder to be safe. He didn't want to risk another attack.

He bit his tongue, suppressing an unkind comment that would have called him either a fool or an idiot. But he wouldn't have meant it that way. You were his twin. You were one and the same soul that the gods put into two bodies.

"Fine," Aegon finally said and threw you the hairband, which you immediately accepted with a sigh of relief.

Ser Criston let go of your shoulder again, as he was very sure that the danger was now averted and that the twins would not jump at each other's throats. Especially not because he was already aware of what lay ahead. The queen had planned it together with her father and the king.

"Daughter!" a worried voice suddenly called from the side.

A green dress and fox-red hair appeared in your field of vision and you immediately felt two hands resting on your shoulders and brown eyes searching your gaze. The queen was obviously concerned about the state of your blue dress and silver hair.

Alicent ran her worried gaze over her firstborn daughter's face, looking for any scratches or bruises, but thank the gods you seemed to be fine. Only when she had made sure of this did she look at her son, who was standing not far away from her and staring at the floor.

She did not check him for wounds or minor injuries.

"Ser Criston? What happened here?" the queen asked her sworn protector with a tired sigh.

"The princess chased the prince through the corridors, Your Grace. It was a game between children," the Dornish man explained to her calmly so that there would be no confusion. As much as he valued the queen, he knew that she could get moody at times. Especially when it came to the king's firstborn son.

"Then why is her dress dirty?" Alicent asked, trying to brush some of the dirt off her daughter's skirt with the palm of her hand.

"The prince stumbled while escaping and the princess then stumbled over him," Cole continued. He was honest, but knowingly left out the argument and the fact that the boy stole his sister's gift to annoy her. He didn't want to give her any reason to worry or reconsider her decision.

Alicent sighed and shook her head at Aegon, who actually couldn't do anything about this little accident. Except, of course, that he stole your hairband.

"Well, I wanted to talk to you both anyway."

You looked curiously at your mother and raised a silvery eyebrow, while your twin just tilted his head.

"Of course, mother," you answered politely. "What is it?"

The Green Queen shook her head and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. The subject was too private to discuss with you here in the middle of the hallway. It was a difficult subject, but it was necessary for both of you to know about it.

"Come with me, you two. Ser Criston, you too," Queen Alicent ordered, turning and walking towards her chambers, which were not far from this corridor. She gently pulled you along by your shoulder, while Criston made sure that Aegon followed as well and would not run away again.

Once in the queen's chambers, Ser Criston closed the heavy wooden doors so that the queen could be alone with her firstborns. He already knew what was coming and it would probably get loud in not too long.

For a moment, the room was plunged into a loud, uncomfortable silence, with the chiming of birds and the distant ringing of bells the only sounds.

"Your father and I have made a decision," Alicent began with a serious expression, folding her hands in front of her stomach. "You will soon be adults and we are already receiving letters about potential marriage alliances."

Aegon's shoulders visibly tensed and you could feel your eyes widening.

A marriage? Now? It was still too early...

"In order to ensure that House Targaryen remains strong in future generations, we have decided to marry you both to each other."

For the young prince, it feels as if all the wind had just been knocked out of his lungs and as if a whole herd of wild horses had trampled over him. He did not want to marry. You were his twin sister and he loved you, even if you could be annoying at times, but was that love enough to want to be your Lord Husband?

Just like your brother, you were at odds with yourself and were lost in the deepest recesses of your thoughts, torn. He was your twin brother and your souls were already one. You always knew, even when he was feeling bad, you knew exactly when he needed you and now you would be bound to each other forever.

As husband and wife.

You found your voice first: "And when will it be, mother? When will we get married?"

A soft sigh escaped your mother and she scratched the back of her hand with her short, bitten nails as if she was nervous or under immense pressure. It almost seemed as if she didn't want this any more than they did.

"In a fortnight."

Time passed faster than you could have ever imagined. One day your mother had stroked your long silver hair soothingly while she told you about her own wedding and suddenly you were standing in front of the mirror while your maids stood behind you, lacing up the bodice of your ivory wedding dress.

The dress was beautiful. The fabric was white and there were small gold decorations on the chest, hips and sleeves. Your hair was tied in a braid and around your neck you wore a gold chain with a green gem in the middle - a gift from your mother.

You looked pretty. You just hoped that your twin would see it the same way.

Aegon couldn't believe his eyes when you entered the sept and your father, King Viserys, gently led you by the hand to the altar.

Although he still didn't want this marriage, he couldn't ignore the warmth that spread in his chest when he saw you and a lump formed in his throat.

You were beautiful.

"I am hers and she is mine." "I am his and he is mine."

With those words it was official. And when he finally pressed a quick kiss on your lips he knew that he could perhaps learn to see you as more than just his little twin sister.

But it would take time.

And that you took.

Six years have passed since your wedding day and a lot had changed in that time.

You were now grown up and far more mature than you had been just a few years ago. A lot had happened. Your little brother Aemond lost an eye, Rhaenyra and her sons moved to Dragonstone and your father was now seriously ill.

The issue of succession has been getting bigger and bigger lately and all kinds of voices are getting louder. There are some who are vociferously advocating for your half-sister and others who wish your husband would one day sit on the Iron Throne.

But you also knew something that no one else knew. Aegon was not interested in power or the crown. Family was the most important thing to him in the world and that included you.

In fact, you were the thing he loved most in the world.

Aegon's head rested on your lap, his eyes closed and his face peaceful as you gently ran your fingers through his short wavy hair. You hummed a soft melody and he was lost in your angelic voice. It was a kind of ritual between you. Every time the world outside your marital chambers became too much for you, you came back here and you calmed him down and he calmed you down in return.

"I heard them whispering again today," Aegon murmured against the velvet fabric of your dress. "They still wonder when the line will be secured."

A small sigh escaped you and you stopped humming as he reminded you of life outside again. Of your duty. The one you had failed at so far.

"Soon, my darling. I promise you. We just have to try a few more times and then everything will be fine," you tried to calm yourself and your brother-husband. But in vain.

It has been six years since your wedding and so far you have remained childless. It wasn't as if you weren't trying, because you were. Often enough, in fact. At first, sex and pleasure had been something that was foreign to you and made you feel uncomfortable, but now it had become something you enjoyed doing. Aegon had always loved it, and in the last few years he had shown and taught you so many things that you couldn't even remember them all.

"Mother is getting nervous," he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the fabric of your dress while his hands ran soothingly up and down your lower back.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes. Of course she was getting nervous, but not for your sake. Not because she was worried about the functionality of your body or that of your twin, but because she was interested in the continuation of the royal line. Her blood on the throne. It was never about you, but about her ambitions and her will, shaped by her father the Hand.

"Yes, sure. If it were up to her, we would already have ten heirs,” you replied grimly, shaking your head. You wanted children, but not because you had to and it was your duty as Aegon's wife, but because you loved him and it would enrich your life.

It was similar with Aegon. Duty crushed him and in this great patch of darkness of the Red Keep, you were his only ray of light. A ray of sunshine on a rainy day, a gentle breeze in unbearable heat. Many years ago, he had wanted neither you nor this marriage, but you had taught him that this alliance could be more than a political tactic.

Because of you, he knew that he was more than the heir to the Iron Throne. He was more than that. His life had a meaning and that meaning was you. His twin, the other part of his soul, his light, his queen.

You saved him. More than once, and not only from the anger and rage of his mother and grandfather, but also from himself.

"She should be satisfied with one for now," said Aegon with a laugh.

You looked down at him with a smile on your lips and tapped him on the nose, whereupon he wrinkled his face and pulled a playful grimace, which in turn made you laugh.

"I love you, brother," you whispered softly, playing with one of his wild strands of hair that never let itself be tamed.

"And I love you, little sister," he replied with a grin.

"We're twins," you said, raising your eyebrows.

"But I'm still older."

"Only by a few minutes."

"Still."

"You're an idiot."

"And you're a twat."

He was behaving differently than usual. For several hours now, he had been following you through the corridors of the Red Keep like a kicked puppy that wants to apologize to its master for a misstep. It was strange. Especially because you didn't know what he could have done wrong.

Had he drunk too much again? Vomited on an old tapestry? Knocked over a vase? Ruined an heirloom? Questions upon questions, and you couldn't find an answer to any of them.

For the last half hour you had been sitting with Helaena in her chambers and she had told you something about the centipede she had in her collection while you tried not to show your disgust. She loved these little creatures and because she was your little sister you loved her too, but you couldn't understand that for the life of you.

You said goodbye with a smile and opened the door, but the moment it opened just a crack you could see a silhouette quickly disappearing around a corner.

What had your beloved brother done now?

"Aegon?" you called after him, but there was no answer at first.

You shook your head, your long silver hair falling in waves over your shoulders, and decided to follow him.

The corridor was empty. Apart from a few tapestries showing the conquest of Westeros by your ancestors and a few torches on the wet, cold walls, there was nothing interesting to see. Surprised, but still curious, you walked slowly down the corridor when suddenly a hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you into a small, dark alcove. Before you could scream, the person had already pressed a hand over your mouth.

Your instincts took over and you tried to defend yourself, but then-

A laugh. A laugh that was very familiar to you.

Aegon has rarely seen you as frightened as you were at that moment, and it amused him deeply. A broad grin lit up his features and a sparkle in his violet eyes revealed that he found everything about it very amusing.

Slowly he let go again and you couldn't help but hit him in the chest with full force, whereupon he coughed instead of laughing.

"What has gotten into you?! Do you want me to die?" you asked him angrily, but your Lord Husband just giggled and wrapped his arm around your waist while leaning his forehead against yours.

"Quite the opposite, my heart," he murmured before pressing a kiss to your lips and then another and then another.

You leaned away, whereupon he whined and pulled you even closer to him.

"What's wrong with you?" you asked him confused and shook your head. He was acting strangely.

"I want to give you a child. I want it so much," Aegon whispered and leaned forward to let his lips brush the side of your neck.

A shiver ran down your spine and you instinctively pressed yourself closer to him. Oh, you wanted to too. You wanted to be a mother and give him an heir. Or two or three. As many as he wanted.

"And what makes you think it will work this time?" you asked him instead as he gently sucked a mark onto your skin.

"There's this book-"

Your laughter interrupted him and he looked up at you with wide eyes: "What?"

"Forgive me, brother. I forgot that you also have the gift of reading," you replied with an amused giggle, whereupon he rolled his eyes exaggeratedly and pushed you against the wall with a sudden jerk.

"Don't be a brat. Don't you remember what happened the last time you were like this?" he asked you, bowing his nose in your silver hair and inhaling your sweet scent. Gods, he had to find the person who made your oils and make him a Lord, because you smelled divine.

"Of course I remember. But I feel sorry for Aemond when he accidentally came into our chambers," you said, leaning your head against the cold, stone wall behind you.

"Why? Sooner or later he had to learn that these positions were possible," he whispered and started to nibble on your earlobe, which made you whimper softly.

His one hand wandered down your body and he kneaded your backside, while sometimes he bit your earlobe and sometimes he peppered your neck with more kisses.

"Go on. What about that book, darling?" you asked him, your voice quiet and shaky.

"Apparently there is a position that promotes female fertility," he answered you with a grin.

"And you want to try it?"

"Yes."

"Now?"

"Now."

Exactly one month later, you came running out of Maester Orwyle's chambers with a wide grin on your lips. He had just told you the good news. You were pregnant. After six years of marriage, you were finally expecting Aegon's child. You could hardly believe it.

With quick steps you hurried to your marital chambers, where Aegon was leaning against the window and looking out into the courtyard. When he heard footsteps, he looked around and smiled when he saw you. His beloved wife.

Without saying a word to him, you jumped into his arms and clung to him tightly, a wide grin on your lips.

"Hey, my sweet, what's wrong?" he asked you, wrapping his arms around you.

Instead of giving him a direct answer, you held him even tighter. "You're going to have to be much more careful with me in the next few months, dear brother."

His eyes widened and he reached for your face to look into your eyes, which were identical to his own. Although he always found yours far more beautiful. Like sparkling jewels.

"You're pregnant," he whispered reverently, looking down at your stomach, which was still flat.

"It seems so," you murmured with a soft smile on your rosy lips. Finally. After so many years.

Without waiting another second, he pressed his mouth against yours and kissed you as if his life depended on it. He poured all his love and passion for you into that kiss as he slowly moved toward the windowsill.

He would have to be more careful with you now, but that didn't mean he couldn't love you, as any good husband should.

And, as fate would have it, a few minutes later Aemond came into your chambers to seek his big sister's advice, only to see you sitting on the windowsill in front of the open window, your hair disheveled and your cheeks flushed, and Aegon kneeling between your legs, his face between your thighs.

And for the second time, you gave him a view he would never forget.

Not again.

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Taglist: @bey0nd-1he-stars @sassypain @hisfavegirl

[damwynz]

𝙃𝙊��� 𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙔 𝙎𝙃𝙊𝙒 𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙄𝙍 𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀

𐙚🧸ྀི 𝙁𝙀𝘼𝙏𝙐𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂: Katsuki Bakugo, Izuku Midoriya, Ejiro Kirishima, Shoto Todoroki, Denki Kaminari

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊ 𝙏𝙒/𝘾𝙒: nothing scary, just fluff. pet names, all characters are in a relationship with afab! reader, love languages with the core 5

an: thank you for over 100 notes on my last post!

Katsuki Bakugo: He isn't good with his emotions. No surprise to anyone, but he lovess giving gifts. Without a doubt, he would buy you the whole world if he could. He'd burn it into ashes if you asked him to. He would notice what you pick up in stores, then in secret, would buy it for you later.

"oi, I got you this or whatever." He handed you the stuffed animal you picked up earlier. You smiled and accepted his gift. Both of you blushing, you managed to get up and hug him. He insisted you let go, but he accepted your touch like he craved it from the start.

He also appreciates quality time. It doesn't matter what you two could be doing. It could be training, watching him cook, or even sitting beside each other in silence while being on your phones. As long as he knows you're safe with him, he's able to relax.

Izuku Midoriya: I think Izuku would show his love by showing acts of service and quality time. Without a doubt, Izuku would do anything for you. He appreciates the small tasks/favors you ask him to do, like tying your shoes, helping with homework, etc. If it makes him feel included in your life, he'd do it.

He dies every time you ask to hang out. He gets so overwhelmed when he's the one planning. I mean, where do I start? The poor boy goes into a spiral with the amount of date ideas and what he should wear- other stuff as well, but he goes crazy. However, if you were to plan the date, he'd be fine with anything. As long as you're with him, it doesn't matter.

Ejiro Kirishima: His love language is for sure physical touch and words of affirmation. I picture his s/o to work out a lot or have similar motives to become "manly", so you two would practically be touching up each other every time you two train. Despite training, he loves your touch. If you forget to hug or kiss him that day, he might actually die. Physical touch reassures him that you're there for him and you're here to stay.

On the other hand, he loves motivating his girl and what's better motivation than one's words?

"Good job!", "You're doing great baby", "Atta' girl!"

Shoto Todoroki: I personally think that Shoto is 100% on board with quality time with a hint of physical touch. He's not used to it but once he receives it, there's no going back. I mean, he's never gotten the love he deserved so when you came along, you finally filled that open wound.

Like Katsuki, he wouldn't mind some quiet quality time. Where the two of you remain in your own corners, doing whatever, while being in the same room. He would probably study your movements. Peeping over your phone to see what you personally find funny, sad, happy, etc.

With the help of his siblings, he buys meaningful gifts for you. Like something poetic y'know?

Denki Kaminari: I lovee writing for Denki so this might be long. His love language is everything on the scale. He'd want to do things for you, to please your needs and emotions. he values how you feel so much that he's probably put your needs over his but you have to remind him to himself first despite being his girlfriend.

Who can forget quality time? He wouldn't want to spend the day without his baby. He's hovering over you 24/7, waiting for your next move. When you're not with him, you can hear his cute whiny voice asking "where's [reader] :("

He never misses a moment to make you feel loved. Compliments is a major requirement. This obviously goes both ways, but he definitely does over do it sometimes.

If you're not in reach of him, he'll make sure to run towards you, arms wide and everything. It's even worse during y'all's alone time. Imagine cuddling and trying to use the bathroom but your stupid boyfriend won't let you go because he'll "miss your touch"

Finally, he loves giving you things he makes/finds. He'll even pick up flowers from the ground and put them in your hair because it reminds him of you. He's the type of boyfriend to go on Instagram or Pinterest for "homemade gifts" because he probably spends his money on food or his personal interests, but if he has extra money, he makes sure to get something for his loving girlfriend!

[chanceofwhat]

Along this same vein, a brief comic:

I imagine Stanley has a great relationship with his fellow puppeteers, and they all think of each other as their puppets and their actual selves in equal measure. (And, uh, don’t ask why Cally is the way she is. I just sorta made that shape and was like dang that’s a good mouth but where do the eyes go? Eh, whatever, and I stuck them on top. She’s a frog, I guess?)

Also, I imagine Stan enjoys his hate mail. It fuels him. Probably most of the are one-offs, where the person moves on with their life, but there are maybe 3 that are repeated offenders: two religion nuts who are PISSED that he teaches evolution and that the earth is round etc etc, and the other is, of course, real life Dr. Pines. He probably has the thought at one point of “Hey, poindexter went to college, and if he got a PHD, which he definitely would’ve, he’d be Dr. Pines,” but his brain doesn’t allow him to put the pieces together because it would royally f him up. But he does read every letter, partially because they’re hilarious, but also he genuinely appreciates getting feedback from a real scientist so he can adjust his methods and improve and correct any potential mistakes, because that’s the spirit of learning & science.

But Science Time with Dr Pine is kind of a Bluey situation where it’s incredible for kids but also great for adults who’ve had a terrible education and/or need the extra support, encouragement, acceptance, etc. Ford hates that it’s so good, so reaffirming, so sweet and genuine. He wants it to be bad. He wants it to be a scam. It’s not. He starts to accidentally grow an affection for the Dr Pine puppet, but still stubbornly grows angrier and angrier at Stanley, and it doesn’t make any logical sense at all. Which just pisses him off more, because how dare Stanley make him act so irrationally and feel such annoyingly confusing emotions?!

Some doodles of this Au- it has my heart now. It's so silly

@aroace-get-out-of-my-face you mad genius you

[organic-bloodbath]

Knife Princess – Part 6

Chishiya x Reader

Summary: You and Chishiya get trapped in a closed space together, both of you getting strange flashbacks.

Warnings: Claustrophobia, panic attack.

A/N: I didn't plan to write this so fast but i just blacked out when i started writing it.

Chapters

♤♡♧◇

Niragi's friend, Jae-sung, gave you a place to stay for a while until you'd find your own place. It was rather small apartment, but you and Niragi got the room which belonged to Jae-sung's roommate, who apparently would be visiting his in-laws in Korea for three weeks. Or something like that. You and Niragi would have about two weeks to find another place to stay the night.

The room had one single bed, so you slept on it and Niragi would have a mattress on the floor, being the usual gentleman he always was (not). You didn't personally know Jae-sung, but by the first impression you got from him, he seemed nice enough. Not anything like Niragi atleast, but what did you know.

For the first few days you didn't do much else than rest and go for a walk. You met up with couple of your friends, who luckily had been out of Tokyo that significant day. You didn't keep regular contact with them anymore, all of you having your own lives, but hey had immediately reached out to you when they heard you had been one of the victims.

Your boss had given you two weeks to rest and recover, which was more than you were prepared to have. You worked an office job as a graphic designer so you could have easily started the job sooner since you weren't physically restricted to work which was mostly sitting around. But your boss didn't want to take chances on your wounds suddenly getting worse in the middle of a work day. You knew you'd get bored after a few more days, since your social life was overall extremely dry as well.

You had decided to go to the grocery store nearby, craving for something sweet. Cookies, ice cream, chocolate – probably all of them.

You arrived back inside the building, carrying a bag full of groceries with you. You decided to walk up the stairs, your eyes on the screen of your phone, typing a text to your friend. You would have taken the elevator, but it was all the way up on the 9th floor so you'd rather walk up, getting a little exercise too.

But you didn't manage to reach the stairs at all when you crashed on someone's chest, stumbling back but managed to keep your balance. Although, the crash made you drop the bag on the floor by your feet, spilling some of the items out, making you curse under your breath.

You looked up and saw a familiar face in front of you. Well, not exactly familiar, but a face which you'd seen before not long ago.

"We should stop crashing on each other like this," the guy suggested, slight smirk on his face. The same guy who was at the hospital and fell on you the first time you met him.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows, and kneeled down on the floor, bare knee touching the cold ground. You started collecting the packages back into the plastic bag.

"Well, i happen to live here," he answered and lowered himself to your level to help you gather the items. "I haven't seen you here before."

"Might be because i haven't been here more than a few days by far. It's just for couple of weeks," you said, making eye contact with him as you stood back up. A small smile appeared on your lips, though you weren't sure if he noticed it. "Don't worry, then i'll be out of your way."

"Your home got destroyed, huh?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said, a genuine apologetic look on his face. You didn't want strangers to be sorry for you, but now you kind of appreciated that, surprisingly.

"Thanks," you said quietly and started to leave, walking past him back towards the stairs, like your original intention had been. "Well, i'll be seeing you then, i suppose."

"See you." He was watching after you for a moment, until he spotted something on the floor by his feet. "Hey, Y/N?" the guy shouted after you, making you turn around.

You furrowed your eyebrows as he approached you again.

"You, um, dropped this," he said and handed you a cookie, but you didn't immediately grab it.

"How do you know my name?" you asked, narrowing your eyes.

He fell silent for a moment, not knowing the answer himself. It had come out of his mouth so naturally he didn't know what to respond. Like he had always known it without needing to ask about it. It had only appeared in his mind just by looking at you.

"Uh, i probably overheard it when you were talking with your brother," he figured out. "Not that i meant to eavesdrop." Maybe he had overheard it but just forgot when it happened? He had always had a good short-term memory and would certainly remember where he had learned your name. Especially since he hadn't known you long at all.

But he didn't remember the reason. No matter how hard he tried to think, he couldn't grasp why he knew it.

"Hm, i guess," you mumbled, feeling suspicious. He was still handing you the cracker.

Stuff these into your pockets, your voice said when you grabbed the cracker into your hand from his hold.

"What?" he asked.

"What what?" you asked.

"What did you say?"

"Um, i didn't say anything," you denied.

He went silent for a moment, just looking at you in your eyes.

"You're a strange man, you know that?"

"So i've heard," he smiled. "I'm Chishiya, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Chishiya," you smiled.

Your smile made his heart flutter and twist his stomach in knots.

You were gone before he could say anything else. Chishiya didn't know how long he kept standing there after you had left, but it took him a while to get himself together and continue his way back to his apartment.

♤♡♧◇

Two days later, you had gone to a library to read for couple of hours, not wanting to stay in Jae-sung's small apartment the entire day. You had visited this library once in a while when you were younger, but hadn't been here in a long time, not after you moved further away from here. Now, you had taken a comfortable position on a couch which was usually taken but was now available to sit.

After a while, someone approached you. You looked up, your heart starting to beat faster when he looked at you.

"Y/N?" the man asked, furrowing his eyebrows but then his eyes brightening. "Hi, how are you doing?"

Your throat felt dry when your one-night hookup was looking down at you.

"Um, fine," you mumbled.

"May i sit?" he asked, pointing the spot next to you on the couch. You only stared at him for a while, until slightly nodded. "What have you been up to?"

"You lied to me," you said quietly, not able to start doing any small talk with him. You weren't going to cause a scene in a damn library but you weren't going to pretend acting friendly either.

"Lied about what?" he asked, genuinely confused. He had seemed to be in a good mood before he approached you, but now it started to fade when he saw the unwelcoming look on your face.

"That we slept together," you gritted between your teeth.

"Um, i already told you," he said. "Nothing happened. For real."

"Okay, so how am i pregnant then?" you spat, anger starting to boil inside you.

His eyes widened. "You're pregnant?"

You crossed your arms against your chest, leaning back against the couch. "Yes, thanks to you."

"I swear, Y/N, we didn't do anything after you told me to stop," he insisted, starting to panic. "I remember it well enough to know that we did stop. After you passed out i simply went to the shower and then fell asleep next to you, okay?"

You eyed him for a moment. He seemed genuine, truly meaning every word, but you weren't buying it. Just because there was simply no other way how you could have become pregnant. If you weren't bearing a child inside you, you might have actually believed him.

"I swear through my mother's grave, hand on my heart, that i did nothing to you. I'd say it directly in front of God," he promised, starting to be desperate, seeing the look on your face – both hurt and angry. He could tell that you weren't so sure to trust him. "Can't you take, like, a paternity test or something if you don't believe me? It's not mine, i promise."

God, how much you wanted to believe him. He looked so serious and genuine it was hard to blame him on things you didn't even remember.

The moments you remembered with him, he had been gentle with you and asked for final permission on everything. When you had said 'no', he had let you go.

"Please," he pleaded. "I did nothing to you. I don't sleep with unconscious women, no matter how wasted i am."

You shut your eyes and held your forehead. How could you believe him when there had been literally nobody else than him?

"I, i came to talk to you now because you forgot a few things in my apartment that day," he said. "I thought i could meet up with you later so i could return them. You just never left your number so i couldn't reach you."

You did forget some of your things in his place but had just accepted the fact that you'd never see them again.

"You can keep them."

"We don't need to hang out, i can just-"

"Keep them, okay?" you insisted and got up from the couch, leaving him to sit by himself without another word.

♤♡♧◇

On your way home, you tried your best to calm down your racing heart and keep your breath steady, but it was turning out to become challenging. You wouldn't be about to cry in public. All you wanted to do now was scream, but you couldn't do that either at a bus stop.

You had promised Niragi to be back at the apartment in about 15 minutes because he wanted to introduce you to his friends and be social, since all you did right now was mostly staying by yourself.

The elevator in this building was ancient and looked like it could break any time soon. The sound of the floor creaking under your feet with every step didn't make you feel very safe either. Still, you stepped into the elevator, pressing the button to the 6th floor, not having the energy to walk all the way up there.

The door started to slowly close until someone's foot stopped it and opened the door again, letting the person to the elevator as well. You locked eyes with Chishiya.

"You're literally stalking me," you stated as he came to stand next to you. It wasn't a big elevator at all, it was made to fit to exactly four people. Three if you wanted to move a little and not only stand with your arms touching each other, not able to take a step to any direction without stepping on someone's foot.

"We live in the same building," he pointed out.

"And yet i haven't bumped into any other neighbor except you and someone's grandma. You now twice," you said back.

"I suppose we have similar daily routines," he responded.

"Mhm," you said, lifting your left eyebrow and turning away from him.

He was going to the 7th floor, only one floor above you. You didn't speak anything, just stood next to each other in silence, an inch between your shoulders. You felt awkward, but didn't care to start even more awkward small-talk.

You were on the 4th floor, when suddenly the elevator stopped, so hard as if it had hit a wall, making you almost lose your balance.

"What the hell?" you mumbled. The doors didn't open and you assumed you were between two floors. Anyway not able to get out.

You suffered from claustrophobia and being trapped in a small space with no way to get out was one of your worst fears. You had never been a fan of elevators, but you had gotten used to them, as long as you didn't have to stay in one for a long time.

You started breathing more rapidly, feeling like the air was running out and you were going to suffocate. The elevator started shrinking, the walls coming closer to you. Chishiya looked at you, worried look on his face.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked softly.

You didn't answer, you were too caught up in the panic attack that was about to start. Your hands were shaking and you just really, really needed to get out of this elevator, starting to hyperventilate. You felt pain on your chest, pressing your trembling hand against your racing heart.

He put his hands on your shoulders, turning you towards him. You avoided eye contact with him at first, looking at the wall over his shoulder.

"Hey, hey," Chishiya said, realising what was going on. "Look at me. Y/N, look at me."

You turned your face towards him, allowing yourself to make eye contact with him.

"Take a deep breath in a count of three, okay?"

Your eyes started to water as you looked at him, having a really hard time to take deep breaths and calm down. You tried your hardest, his hands gently rubbing your arms. Eventually you were able to calm down.

"That's good," Chishiya smiled. "You did really good."

"Is it weird if i hug you?" you asked quietly, nervous for his rejection or making him uncomfortable. Chishiya contemplated your request a little bit, until gently wrapped your arms around you, massaging your back with his hand.

Another person's presence and touch always, or most times, managed to calm you down properly. You heard his steady heart beat.

Was there someone else? Or was i... was i your only one?

You pulled away from him, furrowing your eyebrows when you looked at him in his eyes. "What do you mean someone else? We're alone here."

"I didn't say anything about someone else," Chishiya mumbled, furrowing his brows too.

"Yes you did, i heard you," you insisted.

You were always really embarrassed when someone saw you have a panic attack and you could feel your cheeks burning up this time as well, now that you had properly recovered from it and realized the entire situation.

"We've been trapped in this elevator for barely ten minutes and you already start to hallucinate," Chishiya stated. He sounded serious, but the small smile on his lips gave it away, wanting to cheer you up and lighten your mood.

"Shut up," you mumbled and hit his shoulder, his words making you a little amused as well.

"I'm going to make a call to get this thing fixed and us out of here. You okay now?" he asked and after you nodded, he took his phone from his pocket and dialed the correct number.

You were afraid of getting another panic attack if you had to be here for a long time, you didn't want to go through that again in such a short time. At least i'm not alone here, you thought. Right now, you were more than glad that he had put his foot between the door and stepped inside with you, even though it had been awkward at first.

"Alright, they said they'll be here as soon as possible, but it might take a while to get this running again," Chishiya explained turning to look back at you.''

"Amazing," you huffed.

"Hey, it could be worse," he pointed out.

"Mhm, and how exactly?" you asked, crossing your arms against your chest.

"Well, you could be stuck with one old man from the 2nd floor, who doesn't shut up about facts about toilets and bicycles," he answered.

"Toilets and bicycles?" you huffed.

"Yup. So, be glad it's me and not an even stranger man than me."

You looked at him for a moment, until you narrowed your eyes, looking again directly at him. "You sabotaged this thing, didn't you?" You widened your eyes and pointed a finger at him. "I knew you had been flirting with me at the hospital!"

"Hey, even if i wanted to get to know you better i wouldn't go to the length of trapping you in a small space with me," he swore, one hand on his heart and the other up in the air.

"Mhm," you hummed, crossing your arms. Then, you pouted a little, pretending to be upset and tilted your head. "So, you don't want to get to know me better? At all?"

You were incredibly close to each other, a few inches between your bodies.

"Well," he said slowly, glancing at the ceiling for a moment to avoid your intense gaze. "I didn't say that."

"But you implied it."

"You're putting words into my mouth," he stated when he had locked eyes with you again.

He wasn't matching your 'i'm just joking' vibe at all right now.

You eyed him up and down, starting to grin. "You're kind of cute, you know that?"

"Cute?" he repeated, raising his eyebrows.

"Yup," you confirmed and bit your lip. "Nobody told you that before?"

"Hm, not that i recall." You smiled wider when you noticed his cheeks turn slightly pink.

"So, you figured out already where you know me?" you asked.

He narrowed his eyes. "You admit that we've met?"

"No," you said. "Other strangers just haven't thought before we might know each other – without considering it flirting."

"Well, i haven't found an answer to that yet," he admitted.

"Hm. Well, let me know when you do."

Your phone let a sound of a new text message, making you take your phone from your pocket. You were feeling hot and pulled your sleeves up to your elbows as you took the phone in your hand.

Assface: are you still out? we're running out of beer

When you had exposed half of your arms, the tattoo on your arm was revealed – two knives crossed with each other, surrounded by roses and couple of skulls. It picked Chishiya's attention, making him analyse it with his eyes.

I didn't find a pen and paper. And i'm bored.

Chishiya looked at your face when he heard those words, your lips not moving at all. Not letting out a single syllable. He could swear that he hadn't imagined those words, spoken by your voice in his head, by himself.

I have a second knife, you know.

You turned your face towards Chishiya when he had fallen quiet, noticing his concentrated stare on your lips.

"What, you want to make out?" you asked with a playful smile, then biting your lip.

You put your phone away and backed him against the wall, standing barely an inch away from him, playing with the collar of his shirt.

"We can play 7 minutes in heaven if you want, now that we have enough time to spare."

Chishiya's face turned red, eyes widening. He swallowed the lump in his throat, stomach feeling funny. His usual calm demeanor shifted completely to something else he had very rarely experienced before. Probably never before. He shook his head a little to get a grip of himself.

"Oh, no, i didn't-"

"I'm just kidding," you giggled, enjoying what kind of effect you managed to have on him. "But it's okay, Chishiya, i know i'm pretty," you grinned and put your finger on his chin. "You can admit it."

"I'm not denying that you're pretty but i wasn't thinking of kissing you," he stated as seriously as he could but even he could tell his voice was trembling a little. "I was just, looking at your tattoo."

"My tattoo is on my arm, not on my lips," you hummed, then started to smile. "So you think i am pretty, hm?"

"Will you shut up about that if i say yes?" he asked, resting his head against the wall.

"Maybe, no promises though," you shrugged. "Well?"

"Fine, you're pretty," he admitted. "Now, end of discussion."

You just smiled, turning into pouting right after. "So, no kissing, hm?"

He couldn't help but glance at your lips but then he cleared his throat. "No kissing."

"Fine," you huffed, acting all disappointed even though you were just teasing him, and backed away from him. You sat on the floor, back against the wall, Chishiya sitting down next to you.

"Can i ask you a serious question?" he asked, the tone of his voice to a lot more serious one, he was back at his normal self. You listened to him now with closer attention. "Do you feel any different after the accident?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like," Chishiya started, trying to gather his words together to make sense. "I feel like there's a large piece missing inside me, you know?" You furrowed your eyebrows. "I don't know if that sounds dumb, but-"

"It's not dumb," you interrupted. "I do feel like that too."

"You do?" he asked, lifting his eyebrows in surprise.

"I mean, kind of yeah," you admitted, hugging your knees against your chest. "I feel weird. Like there's something crucial i don't remember. I can't really explain it. But i've just figured it's due some survivor's guilt and trauma or whatever, i don't know. I'm just trying to leave the entire thing behind."

Chishiya knew, was absolutely sure, that it was something else than simply survivor's guilt.

"Perhaps," he mumbled and looked into his hands on his lap.

You didn't know how much time passed the two of you being trapped in the elevator, but you'd guess it was anything between 30 minutes to one hour.

Suddenly, the elevator started to move again, startling you so badly that you collapsed against Chishiya, grabbing his shirt on an instinct.

He looked at you, hanging on him, until you turned your head towards his gaze, eyes widening.

"I'm sorry," you apologised, letting him go. "I just got really startled."

"It's alright."

Chishiya stood up and took your hand in his, pulling you up from the floor just as the elevator's door opened.

"Well, i guess this is my stop," you announced, suddenly feeling a bit awkward again, just like the moment in the beginning when Chishiya had stepped into this elevator. "See you around, Chishiya."

"See you around, Y/N."

♤♡♧◇

You walked inside the apartment, Niragi and two of his friends sitting at the table, playing cards together and drinking beer. Apparently they had found more beer somewhere after all.

"What took you so long?" Niragi asked, clearly not pleased for having to wait for you so long. "Did you bring more beer?"

"Got stuck inside the elevator," you stated. "So, no. I didn't."

"That shit finally broke?" Jae-sung asked and let out a laugh. "Took long enough."

"Join us, we saved a seat for you," Niragi invited, patting the chair next to him.

"Oh, i think i'll just go to read and-"

"Don't be silly, one game," another guy pleaded, you had never seen him before.

You rolled your eyes and sighed. "Fine, one game."

But one game turned into another and yet another, until it started to get really late. You were having a lot of fun, though, and you managed to win surprisingly often, shocking the guys a little because they had thought of being some sort of masters in card games themselves. Niragi knew you were a challenging opponent though, so he was amused by the reactions of his friends.

You now held the King of Spades card in your hand, looking at the King's cartoon face and felt it staring back at you, a little too intensely. You got a weird twist in your stomach, suddenly feeling sick.

Uncomfortable pressure formed inside your skull, some sort of flashes running inside your mind. The card dropped from your hand as you held your head in your hands, shutting your eyes.

You heard rapid shooting and screaming everywhere around you.

A man in a long black cloak approached you, pointing his gun at you, but someone pulled you out of the way of gunfire.

Swimming in a lake, being held against someone's bare chest but not seeing the person's face. An explosion somewhere in the distance.

Finally, Chishiya's face looking at you with worried eyes, a tear falling down his face and blood on his cheek. Saying something to you but you didn't hear what.

Every flash didn't last longer than one or two seconds, feeling like they were splitting your brain in half.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, Niragi looking at you with a worried expression on his face. You jumped on your seat, him scaring the crap out of you.

"Y/N? What's wrong?" Niragi asked.

"My, my head just hurts," you muttered and stood up. "Migraine. I think i'll go to lie down." You were already walking away until turned around one more time and gave the guys a smile. "It was nice to play with all of you though."

You went to the spare room and sat on the bed, hands grabbing the edge of the bed.

What the hell was that?

♤♡♧◇

Chishiya fell asleep fast that night, faster than usual, even though his mind wasn't even closely free from all the storming thoughts about you and everything going on in his life right now.

He saw a dream which felt too real and familiar to be only a dream. He felt like there had been more to the dream, and he remembered only a small part of it.

He saw your face. You were standing in front of him. With a smile on your face, you pulled him into a kiss, hands on his cheeks.

You pulled back after a while, still holding his cheeks as you looked into his eyes, challenging look in them. "I've never done it in a lake, though."

Chishiya woke up, for a moment trying to comprehend where he was after opening his eyes, then fully realizing he had only dreamed the entire thing. You weren't there holding his face. You weren't there kissing his lips. You weren't there at all, your touch had been only his own imagination.

Had the moment between you two in the elevator really affected him that much? Surely not. No, definitely not.

His heart fluttered and for some reason, he had liked it. The idea of you being close to him.

He wanted to slap himself on the cheek which held a ghost of your touch, just to get this feeling spat out of him. Touch which hadn't been there at all in the first place.

He didn't know you. You were strangers to each other who simply went through the same trauma. He had never felt like this about a woman who he only knew by a name. He knew nothing else about you besides getting injured when the meteorite hit Tokyo.

He could tell you were beautiful and would get any man on their knees by your feet, he wasn't going to deny that.

Was this some sort of "love at first sight" moment he was experiencing? Definitely not. He didn't believe in love at first sight, no. It had to be something else.

Chishiya groaned, absolutely frustrated, and wasn't able to sleep anymore.

♤♡♧◇

A/N: Hope i didn't forget to tag anyone <3 The next part won't be posted this fast lmao don't get used to this.

Taglist:

@audiiix

@valexqpt

@spencersoneball

@queenofviolenceandnerds

@moonchild323232

@lizxoxeth

@crazzzyyyy

@kimsrie

[princesssmars]

i wanna be your bitch!

a vi x reader.

vi has always been a girl who can appreciate a woman's behind. you just didnt know how much she appreciated yours.

wc : 1.531

contains : some fluff. nsfw. fem!reader. f x f sex. needy whiny top vi. oral and anal sex (reader receiving).

a/n : can probably be read as a sequel to this. i need help.

for the past few years, youd noticed a constant pattern in your failed romantic relationship that could only be described as incompatible boundaries.

some girls were too distant, some not distant enough. to be fair you’d started to get a bit peculiar at the end of your romantic exploration, gently letting down an admittedly sweet girl after she had ordered a rather large portion of oysters while on a romantic dinner date.

but when you met vi, and it's like everything just clocked. every quirk and flaw you both had seemed to bounce off of each other, an equal balance between the highs and lows that led to a magnetic give-and-take between the two of you.

it was a constant push and pull between the two of you, and you really liked it when she pushed you.

the first time you slept together was also the first time you knew that what you and vi had was different. after quite a few years of let downs you'd become a bit jaded when it came to your heart and in the act of slightly stupid self-preservation you initially just wrote off your and vi's instant attraction as a short-lived burst of sexual tension that’d lead to a night of hot sex before parting ways.

but then she’d laid you down on her bed, slowly spread you open with tender hands and attentive eyes, and took you apart in ways you'd only dreamed of. she saw how your gaze frequently drifted to her hands so she stuffed you full of her fingers, felt how you drifted your hands across her body, and urged you above her so she could watch you ride her abs until you came over her with a cry.

each time she brought you to a fiery orgasm you felt an unfamiliar pull in your chest, not uncomfortable but warm and bright, a near suffocating type of bliss. she felt it too, if the smile on her face when you pulled up from between her legs gave any indication.

(because as much as she loved to brag about knowing you like the back of her hands, you were the same for her, and it was hard to ignore how her gaze softened and drifted to your lips while you spoke while biting her own.)

and that habit became a key part of your relationship, words unneeded when a simple look at the other could tell either of you how you were feeling. a tick in vi's jaw alerted you of her annoyance, a bounce in your step alerting her of you’re restlessness.

it’s why it’s so easy to see what makes vi desperate for you, and what makes you desperate for her.

vi was an ass girl, anybody with eyes could tell you that. any chance she got to stare at, fondle, or smack your ass, she’d take it with a scheming look on her face and nearly rub her palms together. during sex you’d notice it, (well, when you could notice things, she had the aggravating ability to make every thought leave your mind with the first use of her fingers, tongue, etcetera,) how she would gaze up at you with stars in her eyes while you rode her strap before landing a harsh slap to the fat of your behind, a lovestruck expression on her features before she thrusts into you even harder, more determined than before.

that was all normal and expected of course, and you made sure to properly indulge her, frequently wearing way too short shorts around the house and bending over surfaces when it wasn't at all necessary.

but it went a bit…deeper than you expected. quite literally.

it was an exciting friday night, the two of you heading out to a nightclub with a group of mutual friends where the laughing and the drinking came in quick succession. neither of you were too inebriated, but just tipsy enough to where the pressure of keeping your desired inside was thrown out of the window. you don't have to share words to know you want each other, quickly stumbling into the bedroom before you’re being pushed down onto your stomach and she’s yanking your dress up and past your waist, ineloquently spreading the cheeks of your ass before diving it like she was starving.

and god, maybe she was. your face was flushed and your breathing stuttered at the lewd actions your girlfriend was doing behind you. every attempt to run or raise your body met with a grumble and a slight pinch to your clit, only resulting in you giving in to the pleasure and cursing her when her laughs vibrated throughout your cunt.

just when you’re about to slip off into that blissful state of thoughtlessness you feel it. the familiarity of her tongue, wide and wet, licking up and over your cunt in the way she knows drives you crazy, but you swear she’s getting…higher. when it happens again your leg involuntarily juts out.

“vi, ngh, vi. what’re you-”

she doesn’t answer, likely too entrenched in her actions to realize you’re even talking to her. you can tell she pent up, not just from the way she’s absolutely ravishing you but how her rough hands grip your skin, how her face barely pulls back to take a breath and her body rustles against the sheets as she tries to find a position that lets her get even more access to you.

but you cant hide your shock when it happens, a slight pressure on a place you arent used to, sending a blazing heat straight up through your body. a rather embarrassing mix of a growl and a sob rips through your body, one of your hands coming down to dig into her hair and yank her upwards.

if you weren’t so shellshocked you might've found the sight of her both amusing yet erotic, pale face flushed from exertion and arousal with big eyes lidded and plush lips parted as she pants. you’re stuck wondering just how her face is slick almost all the way up to her eyes, your mind wondering just what the hell she was doing down there when her wrecked voice rings out into the quiet of the bedroom.

“please, just let me - just let me try it, yeah? need it so bad, pretty, promise i’ll make it feel so good-”

her voice is nothing short of desperate, shaky, and heaving as her eyes dart from your eyes to your lips back down towards your cunt. you feel your face burn when her gaze becomes almost entranced, biting her swollen lips while not at all subtly grinding her hips against the edge of the bed, anguished as she waits for you to give her permission.

you don't even get to finish nodding, vi dropping her head back down and licking a fat stripe starting from your clit and going higher and higher and higher-

“oh f-fuck, violet!”

your eyes roll into the back of your head and your body goes boneless when her tongue presses into the tight skin of your ass, pressing gently but insistently to get as much access as she can without hurting you. as much as she relishes the feeling if given by her squirming body and broken moaning into your hole, the shared sounds of your heightened arousal ringing in the air.

she becomes consumed by it, licking up and over your asshole, until her jaw starts to ache and her thoughts become foggy. every so often she’ll begrudgingly pull back to watch the mixture of her spit and your cum surround and drip down from your ass, your body clenching and releasing as you try to hold off the inevitable orgasm that will wreck your body.

“it’s alright baby, relax,” she whispers, a gentle hand smoothing over one of your ass cheeks to hopefully release some of the tension in your body, “just let it happen, yeah?”

she gets back to work and keeps eating at you with a hunger that both concerns but arouses you until you inevitably cum with a drawn-out shout, rather early for you but you can't find it in you to be embarrassed as your body falls limp into the sheets. your legs continue to twitch as she continues to lave at your juices and entrances lazily, close to bringing you over that peak again until you start to use all that's left of your willpower to wriggle your hips away from her.

you’re both panting heavily, heads similarly slumped into your covers from physical exertion., you’re halfway into falling into a serene sleep when vi’s hands wrap around your hips and flips your body onto your back, your shocked gasp being silenced at the sight of her flushed body standing between your legs, face seeming almost drunk as she bashfully blinks at you.

“if you can take it…can i do that again?”

[writingsofwesteros]

https://www.tumblr.com/writingsofwesteros/776393523339673600/targaryen-men-and-their-daughters-maegor-and-his

Maegor/Daughter: Maegor consummated his wedding night a dozen times over, if his daughter wants ‘the Cruel’ she will have to best that feat. She will have to accept the bruised neck, the staggering walk, and being mounted like a bitch in heat for her ill-advised desire.

Viserys/Daughter: She’s a bit nervous at the start, but her mother’s soft words help her relax. She coos gentle encouragements, praising her for taking her father so well. Afterwards she tilts her hips up and gently helps her continue the maesters’ fertility potions she had been taking since the wedding was announced. Aemma is thrilled at the healthy twin boys nine months later, and scolds her former husband if he attempts to take her sweet daughter to bed again too soon.

Viserys/Rhaenyra’s Twin: She knows her big sister is so jealous, but she finally takes pity on her, teaching her all her little noises and mannerisms. The twins are always writhing in bed together, sleeping together like they did as children but now exploring each other’s bodies. Viserys soon realizes it is sometimes Rhaenyra and not his wife who comes to his bed, but he turns it to an advantage by claiming them both at the same time. It is much harder to tell them apart as they try to outdo each other in pleasing him.

Viserys/Aegon’s twin: if Viserys wants her, you know Otto will not let her even think of saying no. Otto brings a soiled septa from Oldtown to make sure his granddaughter fully appreciates the Mother as a face of the Seven. Otto fucks the septa from behind as she fingers and licks his granddaughter. She has a new perspective on ‘religious ecstasy’ in time for her father bedding her. Otto keeps the septa for himself after, he loves to hear her sobbing and praying as he fucks her in the great sept for anyone to hear.

Daemon/Laena’s daughter: Oh Daemon loves fucking his wife as she feasts on his daughter. Some days they browse the lascivious etchings in the Red Keep and decide which they will partake in that night. They’re both heavy with child now and Daemon enjoys rubbing and kissing the bellies of his favorite women, Rhaenyra gives him his first son, his daughter gives him his first granddaughter.

Daemon/Bastard: His daughter is excellent at her learning, Daemon gently easing her into being fucked for hours, taking several cocks, and playing to any fantasy a man could desire. No one in the Red Keep realizes the pretty new maid is Daemon’s bastard. Aegon enjoys shoving her down and taking her as she wriggles and Aemond accepts the soft mothering as she coos about how good a boy he is. The loyal Gold Cloaks have every Green captured just after Viserys dies, their attempts for the throne foiled.

ALL OF THIS!!!!

Oh she truly did not realise what she was asking for as she bounced back and forth against him. Her whines of pleasure echoing around the royal chambers as he roughly palmed at her arse; spreading her cheeks to watch the erotic display of her body taking him.

Oh , Aemma is frightening thank you very much and even Viserys knows not to overstep. The sweet bouncing baby boys are the cutest and they trail after their mama; reaching for the skirts of her dress.

Viserys thinks he's with the Gods as he is brought the pleasure from his two Princesses. Oh he is the luckiest man in the realm.

Oh , Otto is so mean!! But he won't let anything come between him and his legacy especially if he gets a little pet out of it ;) Viserys has her wrapped around his finger; cooing and whispering his praises as she falls apart for him.

Using the tapestries to have some new positions in the bed chambers! Sweet thing is completely engulfed in their relationship with the possessive dragons.

She is Daemon's secret weapon thank you very much; Aegon & Aemond never saw it coming...nor do they truly care. The rogue Prince has trained her so well

[yey56]

LEITH PIERRE X PSYCOLOGIST READER

(complicated feelings, un-required love, Leith getting his hopes up and later destroyed. Mainly Leith's pov of chap 1 and before of that).

Since the moment you started working at playtime co you were like a fish in the sea. You adapted quicky in your position and as time passed by, your job as a clinic psychologist expanded to the head psychologist in the company. Then you became closer to the rest of the executives and important charges at the company.

That position had it's ups and downs. Your favourite benefit was the chance to work with the innovation and design department. There you met Leith Pierre, head of innovation.

You both got along right from the start, both of you were good at knowing what people wanted and you shared the gift of creativity so Leith and you were made friends very fast.

He was pretty friendly with most of the staff but sometimes he had his rage moments (like for example when an employee took him by suprise and scared the hell out of him after passing through a door)

As a joke, you made him a poster that specifically instructed the visitants and the staff of the factory to not hide behind door because Leith will get startled.

Deep down, that kind of sense of humor you had made him like you even more. You both were competitive in your works but always maintained a playful banter. A silly battle of subtle little insults will always start when you were together in the same room. Never aim to really hurt but rather to annoy and tease.

He would often frequent your office and talk to you about the last models of toys he was designing, always focused on listening to your opinion and how certain factors of the design might attract more clients.

If he ever catched you in the middle of an appointment with a child he would wave and wait outside until the child finished.

You also noticed he was a very physical man. He was always touching everyone's shoulders or backs as a way to appear closer or warmer. You assumed he had his businessmen methods on appearing more appealing to the public.

Pierre was getting more attached to you by each year that you worked on the company.

He even tried to get closer to you by directing himself the commercial of the toy you design yourself, Piannosaurus.

"So, what do you think... Come one, we both now it's amazing!!" He said excited as he extended his arms and grabbing your shoulder in the process.

"Certainly not bad... I would've made it better but not bad for being you" you chucked playfully. Leith had taken you out of your work hours to show you this commercial.

You appreciated the effort, of course but your mind was occupied by something else or maybe someone else.

A few months ago the project Bigger Bodies started and at the lead was Dr Harley Sawyer. Leith didn't get along with Sawyer and neither did you at the start.

In reality, you didn't care much about Harley at the start apart from being a capable Dr and later someone who you respected professionally but Leith seemed to have some kind of mistrust against him.

He always wore tense smiles around him and didn't seemed to trust him much.

Eventually you started becoming more involved with the project, obsessed even. You were most of your time in the lower levels performing experiments and treating the toys and kids down there.

Pierre always knew you as someone very comprised with her work. You loved what you did and you made it known.

The problem was that you barely seemed to remember others existence apart from yourself and the person you were down there with. Sawyer.

Your relationship with the doctor had developed into some sort of friendship. Your ideals were very similar and since you both always insisted on staying down personally supervising the experiments you ended up interacting with each other a lot.

One day he got tired of waiting for you to seek out so he did it himself.

"Good morning sir" greeted the guard responsible for the labs.

"Where is Dr (Y/L/N)?" He asked directly.

"Sir, Dr (Y/L/N) and Dr Sawyer are in lab 007 performing an experiment on one of the toys."

He was certainly irritated that Sawyer was the one getting your time, but of course you were the only two ones demented enough to stay down there for more than required.

Some deadlines on his department had been missed because your lack of assistance didn't gave the inversors the security to invest in the toys.

He had suggested Ludwig to make your intervention in innovation required at least twice a week but the man was still revising the schedules and contracts.

Irritated, he arrived at the handrail you and Sawyer were at. You were taking notes and commenting on the behaviour and cognitive abilities of a nightmare creature. This one was bigger than the others, a black sheep.

His blood boiled when he saw Sawyer so close to you. He had been made aware that there were complaints about the Drs lack of respect for boundaries and personal space.

If Harley didn't knew how to maintain some healthy physical space that was his problem.

Forcing a smile he approached the pair, putting a hand on Harley's shoulders.

"Sawyer! (Y/L/N)! It's been quite sometime since you had seen the sun" his attempt at humor was met by the disgusted face Harley gave him.

The Dr moved his shoulder harshly so Pierre's hand would fall from it.

"Working, the experiments require time" he responded dryly.

"Sawyer the investors are waiting, I'm sure you both are working yourself to the bone to get a result out of the experiments but I need to give something to the guys funding us" he turned to you "(Y/N)!, I'm sure you understand that this project is very risky. We are putting so much on the line" he now grabbed your shoulder.

You were still writing in the report the last notes about the experiment "Of course I do understand Leith, but you need to comprehend that precisely because this is a risky project we cannot allow ourselves to make any mistake" you finalised the notes by signing them.

"Would you be so kind as to give this report to Dr White? He will need to make some adjustments in his next patients. Harley and I have been noticing some patterns on the experiments that can be corrected if we are careful enough" Oh! Now you called him Harley. How sweet. He though while you passed him the notes. He held on the subtle contact you fingers made.

Harley seemed annoyed merely by Leith's presence. He was already used to you being there with him. He had accepted you as part of his space.

You could peacefully exist in his office, in the labs he was in and anywhere near him but any other person who should not be there that was somewhat staying more than needed was met with a glacial look from the doctor.

"Pierre, as I'm sure you understand I have more surgeries to perform and (Y/L/N) needs to run some more test on 1888." Sawyer looked coldly at Leith and left the lab while putting on his lab bat.

Leiths tense smile dropped the moment Sawyer got out of the area and he quickly turned to you.

You were putting away some documents on the bookshelves on the wall, archiving the remainder of the experiment.

"You know, you could get out of here sometime. The innovation team is a disaster without you doing their works" he joked trying to fix the tense atmosphere that had took over the room.

You stretcht, groaning before facing him. "Yeah sorry, this is just so fascinating.... And I need to lead the other psychologist, the experiment are quite picky." You laughed

"Don't worry, both me and Harley are required in the executive meetings. The next one is on Tuesday right? After that I will go to you office and we can settle whatever problem you and your team have" There it was again, that stupid name. He sighed annoyed and rolled his eyes. He took a look at you.

You look tired, exhausted but the light on your eyes, either by the caffeine or by the excitement made it worth it going down here.

The weeks turned into moths and even though you fulfilled your statement and spent not one bit two entire days reassuring the investors, analysing the latest trends preferences and assisting on the designs, sensory materials etc.

This appeased Leith but it irritated Sawyer. He had already his routine. You would perform your interviews and consulta, him his surgeries and later on you would both discuss the experiments and their development, sometimes even going as far a having dinner together in silence or with you ranting about some recent studies you had read.

He had heard you talk a lot about how music affected kids and how Pianosaurus was a great stimuli for the kids and a great way of stimulating the mind and creativity.

You were specially proud of that damned dinosaur and Harley knew it (mainly because you talked about it a lot)

Therefore, after getting acostumed to you and even enjoying your presence and monologues, he felt absolutely enraged that Leith was going out of his way to take you away from your responsibilities and workload. (And him of course, though he would never admit it).

He had already confronted Pierre telling him to stop making other workers lose time just because his team wasn't productive enough.

Of course this caused that the Ludwig himself had to intervene and stablish some legal rules. Re-establishing all of your contracts.

Leith should do his work with his team and since your importance in the project was essential, he should ask any other psychologist of your team if he needed help.

The resentment on Leith's part keep growing and growing just as the complaints about Sawyer.

It got to a point that even other executives as Stella had complaint about him being insufferable.

This got to a point in which the three of them started to plot how to deal with him until they got to a common ground

We could always 'deal with him' " Rittermann suggested "it's not like we haven't done it before"

"Either way, what do we do about (Y/N) she also seems pretty involved with the project. Do you think she might be a threat?" Stella quickly denied that, she wasn't really on board with the idea of dealing with people and also she didn't have any problem with you, you did your job well and treated the children with respect and that enough for her. "No, that would be just unnecessary she had done nothing wrong"

Leith was quick to agree with her "yeah, and some of the experiment are already attached to her, some of them are even refusing to be treated by other psychologist as far as I've been informed. She hasn't done anything wrong, I'm pretty sure we can just do this privately and get going."he finalised, settleling the plan

He felt relieved when the rest of them agreed. He didn't think he would have the guts to give you as a meal to Boxy Boo.

But before he could get out of the room he heard an impact on the floor. The three executives went out of the room and found the guard they had assigned to guard the corridor with his club high.

Leith looked at the floor to see who had the guard hit.

He saw you body and your belonging spilling out of a box on the floor. He knelt to your level and took you pulse. After realising what he had done, he quickly ordered the guard to take you to another room and to cuff you on a piece of furniture.

He then went away of the room, accompanied by Stella, to personally give the order of dealing with Sawyer and ascending Dr White as the new head of the surgeons.

He was completely unaware that after leaving Rittermann alone, he had given the order of dealing with you the same way as with Sawyer.

He was made aware of your fate when your anesthesia had already kicked in. He saw through the glass your unconscious body, he regretted not insisting more to Elliot about moving you upstairs again or to Home sweet Home instead of letting the situation get out of hand.

He personally chose one of your discarded designs as your new body. One you knew you would like, or at leat hate less...

A white manikin with only two black eyes. That toy you designed was destined to potentiate creativity by dressing it with accessories made of either doe or other manipulable materials...

This had gone so far tot he point he couldn't stop it, but at leat he wasn't going to lose you completely. He was a creative man, he would work something out.

He didn't realise everything would go wrong when the anesthesia didn't really worked out.

He receive a call from one of the surgeons in charge of your surgery, shouting desperate something about you waking up and stabbing his assistant with a scalpel. He faintly heard your voice on the background and later the sound of someone being shot.

Scared of what you might do, he ran to one of Sawyers screens.

"where is she??!!" Leith asked desperate

"Mmm, an why would I tell you Leith" his bitter voice was evident even though the static that now surrounded it.

Leith grabbed the sides of the TV "Listen to me you good for nothing system, either you tell me where she is or she is going to get shot by a guard!!" The seemed enough to convince Harley.

"Control room" after that he turned himself of.

Again Pierre started to run to the control room and when he reached the end of the corridor he saw you banging on the door, still in the medical dress you had for the operation.

He shouted you name and when he was already close enough to reach you, the door suddenly opened, letting you in. He knew it had been Sawyer. Only people with executive access could enter that room.

He desperately tried to reason with you, he could already imagine what would you do.

"(Y/N)!! Stop this. You are not thinking straight! They will kill you, all of us!!!" He said completely desperate, attempting to convince you to stop whatever you were planning, banging on the door even harder.

The red lights started illuminating the whole compound. That only meant one thing, you had opened the cages "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!!!- WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!!!" He kept banging on the door out of desperation and fear" Nonono-"he murmured. Suddenly he hear you stared talking so he stuck his head to the door, trying to hear you.

You were also leaning on the other side of the door, with the look of a madwoman on you face.

"Actions have consequences Leith, sooner or later both you and I were going to face them, I just accelerated the process." you said with a mocking tone that brushed insanity"Im just helping you learn how to take responsibility for your actions."you finished with a harsh tone in your voice that expressed resentment and betrayal.

He was going to keep arguing with you, still not giving up but he heard the screams to pain and horror of the other workers so he just run and by sheer luck managed to escape the factory, not without being injured in the process. One limp leg was his price to pay.

He knew some experiments had became attached to you such as Doey, or Kissy Missy hell even Pianosaurus only gave any glimpse of response to you... He knew you would not immediately die there but you were now right at Harley's arms.

When all of the authorities arrived and he gave his testimony, obviously false and manipulated.

Years passed by and he didn't have any news of you or if you even where alive. He had founded his own new company, similar to playtime but way more discreet and simple. With no horrific experiments and most importantly not you.

One day, while cleaning his apartment he found s photo of Elliot Ludwig, now dead and the other executives. In that photo you were in between him and Sawyer. You looked calm and healthy. No like his last memory of you in which you looked exhausted, disoriented and frantic.

That made him do something he never though to do. He decided to contact an ex employee and ask for him to go to the factory. To search for the secrets of playtime urging him to discover what happened (what happened to you).

Little did he knew that that letter would change everything inside of the abandoned factory...

I redesigned Leith Pierre (I'm awful at the first version of the designs) and gave Y/N an appearance. {You can imagine Y/N with whatever characteristics you want, I did the drawing based on an oc}

Leith showing (Y/N) the Pianosaurus commercial (he's very proud)

-Unedited fanfic-

[novaursa]

The Second Daughter (the call)

- Summary: You were born as a second daughter under the watchful eye of a full moon. And just like the moon you were beautiful—and cursed to exist only in the dark.

- Pairing: targ!reader/Jason Lannister

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: legacy of fire

- Next part: winds from the east

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround @idenyimimdenial @l3thal-l0lita @alkadri-layal @ninihrtss @barnes70stark

The air in Casterly Rock had grown heavy with the weight of war, though no battles had yet reached its gates. The West remained untouched, a fortress of its own making, and Jason had ensured it stayed that way. But beyond the hills of his domain, beyond the deep valleys and rich mines, the rest of Westeros burned.

The Dance of Dragons had truly begun.

It was a morning like any other when Grand Maester Halford entered Jason’s solar, his gait slow but his expression carefully schooled into neutrality. He was a man of quiet wisdom, with the habit of delivering ill news without alarm—a trait Jason had come to appreciate over the years.

Jason, seated at his great oaken desk, glanced up from the ledger he had been reviewing, noting the tight grip Halford had on the parchment in his hand.

“What is it?” Jason asked, leaning back in his chair.

Halford hesitated only for a breath. “A raven from Dragonstone, my lord. It bears the personal seal of Queen Rhaenyra.”

Jason exhaled slowly, holding out his hand. “Give it to me.”

Halford obeyed, setting the sealed parchment into his lord’s waiting palm. Jason turned it over in his fingers before breaking the wax with his thumb, unfolding the letter with measured ease.

The words inside, however, set his teeth on edge.

He read silently, his brows furrowing deeper with each line.

"Sister," Rhaenyra had written, "I call upon you once more. The war grows fierce, the blood of Targaryens stains the realm, and yet you remain silent in the West. I will not ask you to take up arms, but I ask you to come to me. Bring your children. They are of our blood, and there are dragons still waiting on Dragonstone. If the gods are kind, your daughters, your sons, may claim them and strengthen our House for the battles ahead."

Jason’s fingers tightened around the parchment.

"Daemon misses you. He has not been the same since he faced Aemond and saved your life. He speaks little. His fire is dimmed. I believe only you can bring him back to himself."

Jason nearly scoffed aloud at that.

Daemon Targaryen, a man of fire and blood, a warrior of renown, brought low by the absence of one woman? It sounded like a ploy.

But it was Rhaenyra’s mention of their children that soured Jason’s mood further.

"Your children are dragons, just as we are, just as you are. The beasts that roam my island wait for riders worthy of them. Bring them, let them claim what is rightfully theirs, and let the realm see that the House of the Dragon will not be broken."

Jason set the letter down, his jaw tight.

Halford, ever the careful observer, watched him with patient curiosity.

“Does your lady wife know of this letter?” the maester asked.

Jason snorted. “It came to my hands first, did it not?”

Halford nodded slowly, understanding the unspoken meaning behind his lord’s words.

Jason did not yet wish for you to know of this summons.

Not now.

Not when he had just begun to see you return to yourself, free from the nightmares, the whispered visions, the distant look in your eyes.

The past moons had been a blessing and a curse. Though the war raged beyond the Westerlands, life within Casterly Rock had been peaceful. Jason had taken every effort to keep his family untouched, unburdened. He had worked tirelessly to ensure the realm knew that the West would stand alone, away from the ruin of dragons.

And yet, Rhaenyra would not relent.

This was not the first raven she had sent urging you to fly to Dragonstone, to bring your children to the wild dragons, to stand with her in her war.

But this was the first time she had used Daemon as a lure.

Jason let out a slow exhale, dragging a hand down his face before tossing the letter onto his desk.

“She will not be pleased when someone reads this to her,” Halford mused, ever the voice of reason.

Jason clenched his jaw. “She is still recovering.”

“She has recovered.”

Jason’s gaze snapped to the maester, his temper flashing, but Halford met his eyes with steady patience.

“I say this not to provoke, my lord, but to remind you that she is not a woman to be kept in the dark,” Halford continued. “She is of Targaryen blood. She was never meant to be kept still.”

Jason sighed, leaning back in his chair, gaze flickering to the flickering hearth.

He knew that.

He had always known that.

He had married a woman of fire, and though she had lived among lions, her soul still belonged to the skies.

Jason knew what he would have to do.

But he did not have to like it.

“Leave me,” he finally muttered.

Halford hesitated, but with a slight bow, he turned and exited the chamber, leaving Jason alone with his thoughts.

For a long while, Jason simply sat in silence, watching the flames dance in the hearth.

Then, with measured patience, he reached for the parchment once more, rolling it into a tight scroll.

Tomorrow, he would give it to you.

Tomorrow, he would let you decide.

But he already knew what you would say.

And he already hated it.

The morning light filtered through the windows of Casterly Rock, casting a warm glow over the stone chamber where you sat with Rhaelya and Alysera, your twin daughters. Their golden hair shimmered in the sunlight, the strands interwoven with the faintest hints of silver, a clear mark of their mixed heritage. Though identical in looks, the girls were distinct in their mannerisms—Rhaelya’s fingers were steady and precise as she stitched, while Alysera fidgeted slightly, losing patience with the delicate work.

Your own hands worked fluidly, guiding the needle with a grace born from years of practice. Even without sight, your fingers knew the fabric, felt the tension of each thread, and understood the rhythm of each stitch. The quiet was peaceful, save for the occasional murmur of your daughters, who asked small questions about their patterns and colors.

Then came the sound of approaching footsteps—measured, deliberate, heavy with purpose.

You knew them instantly.

Jason.

Before he even spoke, you felt the shift in the air.

The girls must have felt it too, for they both looked up from their embroidery as their father entered the chamber.

“Rhaelya, Alysera, leave us. I need to speak with your mother.”

Jason’s voice was firm but not unkind.

Alysera was the first to protest. “But we are not finished—”

“Now, girls.”

Though his tone did not change, there was an edge to it, one that neither daughter dared to challenge.

You heard the rustle of fabric, the shift of the chairs as Rhaelya and Alysera obediently rose, murmuring their farewells before padding toward the door.

Once the chamber doors clicked shut behind them, Jason let out a slow exhale.

You set your embroidery down upon your lap, turning your head toward him. “You are tense.”

Jason scoffed. “When am I not?”

A small smile touched your lips, but it faded when Jason moved closer, lowering himself onto the cushioned seat beside you.

He was quiet for a moment.

Then, in a tone that lacked its usual sharpness, he said, “A raven arrived yesterday.”

Your breath hitched, just slightly.

You tilted your head. “From where?”

“Dragonstone.”

The air in the room shifted.

Your hands clenched around the embroidery fabric, your fingers gripping the delicate material as if it were the only thing anchoring you.

Jason saw it. He sighed.

You turned your face slightly toward him. “What did she write?”

Jason hesitated, and you knew.

You knew exactly what was coming.

“She wants you to come to her.”

Your lips parted slightly, but Jason was not finished.

“She wants you to bring the children. She believes they can claim dragons.”

The breath you had been holding slipped from your lips.

Your sister had written before, had urged you before. But this was different.

Jason continued, his voice lower, careful.

“She also wrote of Daemon. She says he misses you, that he has not been the same since...” He trailed off, but you knew the rest.

Since he saved you.

Since he fought Aemond and drove him away.

You swallowed.

Jason exhaled sharply through his nose, shifting beside you, likely running a hand through his hair as he often did when frustrated.

Then, his tone grew sharper.

“She wants you to come to her, to stand with her, and— Seven hells, she acts as though we are blind to her intentions! She knows what bringing our children to Dragonstone would mean. She wants us in her war, she wants us tied to her banners, and she will not stop until she gets what she wants.”

He scoffed. “Even Daemon is a pawn in this.”

You shook your head slightly, your fingers curling around the embroidery in your lap.

“I do not believe that.”

Jason let out a short, humorless laugh. “You do not believe your sister plays her game as cleverly as the rest of them? You think this letter is just an innocent invitation?”

You did not answer.

Because part of you knew he was right.

Still, you whispered, “I have not seen Daemon in moons.”

Jason’s jaw tensed.

Your fingers found his arm, tracing over the fabric of his tunic, feeling the corded muscles beneath.

“Jason, I will not be swayed by a simple letter,” you said softly. “But I will not ignore it, either.”

He turned fully toward you now, his green eyes sharp even if you could not see them.

“I know you. I know what you are thinking.”

Your lips pressed together, but Jason continued.

“You want to go. You want to hear her voice. You want hear his. You want our children to touch dragon scales, to feel their birthright.” His voice dropped. “Do you not?”

You hesitated.

And Jason saw it.

His fingers brushed your jaw, tilting your face ever so slightly.

“Say it.” His voice was low, controlled.

You inhaled.

And then, quietly, truthfully, you said, “Yes.”

Jason closed his eyes. For a long moment, he did not speak.

When he did, his voice was lower, softer, “You would fly into the storm, wouldn’t you?”

Your fingers curled over his, pressing firmly, “The storm is already here, Jason. We are only pretending we are not standing in the rain.”

Jason did not respond.

But you heard his sigh, felt the weight of it, felt the reluctance in his silence.

You knew this would not be the end of this conversation.

Jason Lannister was not a man who relented easily.

And you were not a woman who could be caged.

The halls of Casterly Rock seemed narrower today, the weight of his anger pressing against the very walls. Jason strode through the corridors, his boots echoing in the silence, his mind a storm of unrelenting thought. The letter burned in his memory, every word, every demand, every carefully veiled attempt to pull his family into a war he had no desire to fight.

Rhaenyra.

Daemon.

They would not stop.

For moons, Jason had kept the West untouched by this madness, ensuring that no king nor queen could lay claim to his lands, his banners, his coin. He had built a fortress of neutrality, an empire within an empire. And yet, his wife’s family—her cursed, insatiable bloodline—sought to drag him into the flames nonetheless.

His fists curled at his sides, his jaw tightening as he turned a corner, only to come upon a sight that gave him pause.

In a quiet chamber, bathed in warm afternoon light, his mother, Lady Leonella Lannister, sat beside Aemerys, their eldest son. The boy, now a young man in his own right, had grown swiftly, his silver-gold hair catching the glow of the hearth, his lilac eyes alight with intelligence.

Leonella was speaking to him in gentle tones, her hands folded neatly in her lap, her rings gleaming in the candlelight. Aemerys, ever the eager listener, sat upright, his posture one of both attention and restrained curiosity.

Jason’s steps slowed, his ire shifting into something heavier, something more complicated.

This was why he fought so fiercely to keep them out of the war.

For his son, his daughters, his family.

Not for Aegon.

Not for Rhaenyra.

Not for whatever legacy the Targaryens thought themselves owed.

Leonella noticed him first, her golden brows lifting slightly, but she made no move to rise.

Aemerys followed her gaze, turning toward the doorway where Jason stood.

“Father,” the boy greeted, his voice now carrying the depth of a young man rather than the high timbre of childhood.

Jason exhaled, running a hand down his face before stepping into the room.

“What are you two plotting?” he muttered, his tone more wry than accusatory.

Leonella smirked, ever the composed matriarch. “Plotting? Do you think me the sort to conspire in dark corners, my son?”

Jason gave her a look, the agitation still simmering behind his gaze.

Aemerys, for his part, leaned back slightly, his arms crossing. “Grandmother was telling me stories of the old days. Of when you and Uncle Tyland were boys.”

Jason let out a short breath, half a scoff, half a sigh. “And what lies has she told you?”

Leonella huffed in mock offense. “Not lies, my dear. Simply truths you wish forgotten.”

Jason shook his head, but his agitation had not faded.

Aemerys, perceptive as ever, tilted his head. “You’re angry.”

Jason’s gaze snapped to his son. He opened his mouth, then shut it, his teeth grinding together.

Aemerys saw too much.

Felt too much.

Perhaps he had inherited more than just the blood of the dragon.

Leonella, watching the exchange, simply folded her hands, ever the image of patience. “Tell us, my son, what weighs so heavily on you?”

Jason inhaled, exhaled, and then dragged a chair forward, sinking into it with a deep, measured sigh. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his fingers pressed together. Then, in a low, tight voice, he said, “A raven came from Dragonstone.”

Leonella did not react at first, though her gaze sharpened.

Aemerys, however, did.

“Mother’s family.” It was not a question.

Jason nodded, his fingers tapping once against his knee. “Your aunt.”

Aemerys’s face remained impassive, though Jason saw the slight tensing of his jaw.

Leonella sighed softly. “And what does Queen Rhaenyra desire?”

Jason’s voice was flat, unyielding. “She wants her sister to bring you and your siblings to Dragonstone. She believes your siblings are ready to claim dragons.”

For a long moment, silence.

Then, Aemerys leaned forward slightly, his lilac gaze unblinking. “Is she wrong?”

Jason’s spine stiffened.

Leonella’s breath hitched, just barely.

Jason’s gaze locked onto his son. “That is not the question to ask.”

Aemerys frowned. “Then what should I ask, Father?”

Jason’s eyes were steady, piercing. “Ask yourself whether you wish to be dragged along by your brothers and sisters into a war for dragons you do not need.”

The boy said nothing.

Jason exhaled slowly, running a hand through his golden hair, before finally leaning back. “You are not a boy anymore, Aemerys. You are the heir to the Rock. And that means making decisions not for yourself, but for the future of this land. You think Rhaenyra asks this for your sake? For your mother’s sake? No. She asks because she seeks more power. She seeks to drag the West into her war, one way or another.”

Aemerys’ lips parted slightly, his jaw tight, as if struggling with what to say.

Leonella watched her son carefully, and then, in a measured, quiet voice, she asked: “And what will my daughter-in-law say to this?”

Jason’s gaze flickered.

And in that moment, Leonella knew.

Jason exhaled, dragging a hand down his face, “She will want to go.”

Leonella sighed.

Aemerys’ jaw clenched, but his voice remained even. “Then what will you do, Father?”

Jason’s gaze flickered to his son, to his mother, to the hearth that burned quietly behind them.

Then, in a quiet, firm voice, he said: “I do not know yet.”

The dining hall of Casterly Rock was quieter than usual, the only sounds the faint clinking of silverware against plates and the low flicker of the hearth. The long table, often filled with family and advisors, held only two tonight. The servants had been dismissed, leaving the chamber bathed in an almost eerie silence.

You sat opposite Jason, your fingers lightly tracing the rim of your goblet, sensing the unease that hung between you. He was silent, which was unlike him.

Your husband was not a quiet man—not in council, not in battle, not in your chambers. Jason Lannister always had something to say, always had an opinion ready, sharp and deliberate. But tonight, he had spoken only in short phrases, his replies clipped, his voice tight with thought.

You tilted your head slightly, listening.

He was still there, still seated across from you, but there was something unspoken weighing on him.

You took a careful sip of the rich red wine, setting the goblet down softly before speaking.

“You are quiet tonight, my love.”

Jason’s fingers paused on the stem of his own goblet, but he did not respond immediately.

You turned your face fully toward him, your voice gentle but firm.

“Are you angry with me?”

A soft exhale left him, and then, after a moment, the sound of his goblet being placed back onto the table.

“No.”

A pause.

Then, more softly. “Not with you.”

Your brows furrowed slightly. “Then with whom?”

Jason let out a short, humorless breath, leaning back in his chair. “You already know.”

You inhaled, understanding, yet not accepting his reluctance.

He was angry with Rhaenyra.

Angry with Daemon.

Angry that the war, no matter how fiercely he had fought to keep it from his doorstep, continued to find its way to him.

To you.

To your children.

“You have barely spoken to me since you showed me the letter.” Your voice was even, but weighted with meaning. “You have left me to guess at your thoughts.”

Jason’s green eyes flickered across the candlelit room before settling on you again.

“You advised me once to wait.” His voice was calm, but pointed. “Not to take a side, not to be lured into madness by the rest of them. And I did. I held fast. I kept the West out of it. And now—” He exhaled, shaking his head, his voice dipping lower. “And now you wish to go to them.”

You folded your hands in your lap, thoughtful. “I have not said I will.”

Jason huffed. “You did not have to. I see it in you.”

You turned your unseeing eyes toward him, head tilting slightly. “And what is it you see?”

Jason leaned forward, elbows on the table, voice sharper now.

“Daemon.”

Your breath hitched at the name.

Jason’s gaze was unrelenting.

“This is about him, isn’t it?” His voice was measured, but there was something else beneath it—something raw.

You hesitated for a moment too long.

Jason sat back slowly, his jaw tightening.

You exhaled. “Daemon has always been dear to me, Jason.”

Jason scoffed. “Yes, I am aware.”

You ignored his tone. “He saved my life. He fought Aemond for me. And now he suffers. I—” You hesitated, then continued softer. “I cannot pretend that does not matter to me.”

Jason’s fingers curled into a fist on the table. “And what of me?”

You stiffened. “Jason—”

“What of me?” he repeated, voice lower now, rough with something unspoken. “I have fought for you too. I have held this kingdom together for you. I have spent years ensuring that no dragon, no king, no queen, no war would ever take you from me. And yet now, you would go to him.”

Silence.

You inhaled slowly, reaching forward, your fingers finding his hand.

Jason flinched at first, but did not pull away.

“I do not go to him. I go for my sister. For my family. For my children.”

Jason shook his head, his voice quiet, bitter. “Daemon is part of that family, whether you admit it or not.”

You sighed. “Yes. He is. But you are my husband. You are the father of my children.” You squeezed his hand. “And I have not left yet.”

Jason exhaled slowly, his fingers finally relaxing beneath yours. For a moment, the tension drained from him, but only just.

Then, after a long silence, he spoke softly. “If I asked you not to go—if I begged you—would you stay?”

Your heart clenched.

Jason was not a man who begged.

And that was why you could not answer.

The silence was answer enough.

Jason’s jaw tightened. He nodded once, slowly, accepting.

Then, he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before releasing you.

Neither of you said another word for the rest of the meal.

The air in Casterly Rock had turned thick with indecision.

An unusual thing for you—to hesitate.

Aemerys had spent his whole life watching you move through the world with quiet grace, a woman who had never once faltered despite your blindness, whose steps were always measured, whose words never wavered. You were a dragon, bound in flesh, a daughter of fire who had built a life amongst lions and made them love you.

And yet now, as he stood before you in your private solar, he could sense the weight in your shoulders, the way your fingers traced absently over the fabric of your sleeve, your lips pressed together in thought.

You were hesitant.

And Aemerys knew why.

Because of Father.

He stepped forward, his voice careful but firm. “You are troubled.”

You exhaled softly, turning your face toward him, though your sightless eyes could not see the way his gaze searched yours. “You have always been able to read me, my son.”

He hummed. “Because you have never been a woman who hesitates. And yet—” He stepped closer, lowering himself onto the cushioned seat beside you. “Here you are. Torn between fire and gold.”

A sigh slipped past your lips as your fingers lightly traced the embroidery of your gown, the same way you always did when deep in thought. “I do not wish to divide my family, Aemerys.”

He did not immediately reply, watching you closely, carefully. Then, after a pause, he said, “Is it because of us? Or is it because of Father?”

Your lips parted slightly, as if to deny it, but no words came.

And that, in itself, was answer enough.

Aemerys inhaled deeply, shifting his weight. “You love him. That is not in question.”

You tilted your head toward him but remained silent.

“But you are also a Targaryen. You belong to the skies, as I do, as my sisters do. As our blood demands.” His voice lowered, turning more careful, more deliberate. “And yet, I have never heard you hesitate before when it came to dragons. You did not hesitate to place me next to Valyros when I was a babe. And now, you do.”

Your body tensed ever so slightly.

“Because if I allow them to claim dragons, if I take them to Dragonstone—” You swallowed, your voice dropping. “It will mean I have truly chosen. It will mean I have pulled our House into a war that my husband never wanted.”

Aemerys nodded slowly, understanding.

You were not wrong.

Jason had fought against this for years.

Had kept the West out of the war, had refused to allow banners to be raised for Rhaenyra or Aegon, had burned traitors alive for daring to force his hand.

And yet, no matter how fiercely Jason had fought to keep dragons and war from your gates, the truth remained:

You were a dragon—the only dragon the West had ever known. And that had always made you part of this, whether Jason wished it or not.

Aemerys leaned forward, his voice gentler now, but firm.

“Mother.” He reached for your hand, guiding your fingers to his jaw, letting you feel the shape of him, the warmth of him, the son who had inherited both your blood and his father’s.

You sighed, your fingers brushing softly over his cheek, as if you were memorizing him.

Aemerys swallowed. “You are afraid of losing Father. I understand that.”

Your breath hitched just slightly.

But Aemerys continued.

“But Father knew what he was doing when he married you. He knew what it meant to take fire as his wife. He knew what it meant to sire dragons in the West.” His voice softened. “You cannot fight who you are. And you cannot let his love for you keep you from your birthright.”

A sharp exhale left your lips, as if you had been holding your breath.

And for a long time, you said nothing.

Then, after a moment, your fingers tightened around his hand.

And in that silence, Aemerys knew.

You had made your choice.

The great hall of Casterly Rock was eerily silent. The long tables, usually filled with voices and the clatter of cups, stood empty. The only sound was the crackling of the hearth and the faint clink of a goblet against polished wood.

Jason sat alone at the high table, a near-empty cup of Arbor Gold in his hand, his gaze fixed on the golden liquid as it sloshed slightly with each small movement of his wrist.

He had dismissed everyone hours ago, seeking solitude, yet found none.

Because the war was still at his door.

Because Rhaenyra would not let go.

Because Daemon had returned to haunt his thoughts.

Because his wife—his perfect, impossible wife—was slipping further into the war with every passing moment.

Jason exhaled heavily, lifting the goblet to his lips and draining the rest of it. The burn of the wine was dull compared to the fire in his chest. He had never been a man to question himself, never been a man to hesitate. He had ruled the West as he saw fit, had kept his lands free of dragonfire and bloodshed, had burned traitors and crushed dissent with little remorse.

And yet, now, he could do nothing.

Nothing but wait.

Nothing but watch as his wife wrestled with a choice that would drag him—drag their children—into war.

The doors to the hall groaned open.

Jason barely flicked his eyes up as Alester Lannister strode in, his cousin pausing in the doorway before shaking his head with mock exasperation.

"Seven hells, Jason. You look like you've been sentenced to death."

Jason let out a low grunt, turning his goblet in his hands before setting it down with a dull thud. "Not yet. But I imagine it's only a matter of time."

Alester huffed, moving toward the table, grabbing a nearby pitcher, and pouring himself a cup. "That bad?"

Jason rubbed a hand over his face. "Worse."

Alester took a long sip before pulling out a chair across from him, leaning back with the kind of ease that Jason currently envied.

"Let me guess, this isn’t about your wife."

Jason tensed slightly, his fingers curling against the table. "Why would you say that?"

Alester snorted. "Because for all the years I’ve known you, Jason, I’ve never seen a man more besotted than you are with her." He lifted his goblet, smirking. "You’re many things—cunning, arrogant, a right bastard when you choose to be—but an unfaithful husband is not one of them."

Jason sighed, rolling his cup between his hands, before muttering, "It’s Daemon."

Alester arched a brow. "Of course, it is."

Jason exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "He slithers into her thoughts like a phantom. Even after all these years. Even after all I've done for her, he still—" He cut himself off, shaking his head.

Alester watched him for a moment before leaning forward. "Daemon saved her life, Jason. That’s not something one forgets easily."

Jason clenched his jaw. "I know that."

"Then why do you act as though she would ever choose him over you?"

Jason froze, his fingers stilling against the wood.

Alester tilted his head. "I have seen you two together, cousin. And I have never, not once, seen a woman more devoted to her husband. She is yours, Jason. Has been yours since the moment you won her. And yet, you sit here drinking yourself into a stupor because Daemon Targaryen still breathes."

Jason gritted his teeth.

Alester scoffed, shaking his head. "You’re a bloody idiot."

Jason shot him a stern look.

Alester simply grinned. "I mean it. I have never seen a more lovesick pair in all my life, and yet here you sit, brooding like a jilted lover."

Jason huffed, grabbing the wine pitcher and refilling his goblet.

Alester watched him for a moment before leaning back again, shaking his head. "Let me ask you something, cousin. Do you trust her?"

Jason’s grip on his cup tightened.

And then, after a long moment, he exhaled. "More than anyone."

Alester nodded, taking a slow sip. "Then stop acting like a scorned boy and start acting like the Lord of Casterly Rock."

Jason let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.

But the words lingered. And for the first time that night, the weight in his chest felt a little lighter.

[stvrnioloslvt]

hi! I'm the anon from Figure skater!reader and hockey!Matt, please write about them and my soul will be yours

from this request, with a little twist to it...

⊹ ࣪ ˖⋆˚࿔ ── #bringbackdryhumping

❛❛ ⛸️ + 🏒 ❞

-...still some imperfections, but your chemistry is over the roof. good job guys- you hear your coach saying as the ringing in your ears slowly subdues, swallowing down the lump in your throat. carefully, your partner, alexander - called alex by everyone - puts you down, holding you firmly in his arms until he’s sure you’re okay to stand on your own without falling to your feet. training had been hard, and partnership wasn’t easy either, but overall the small appreciation given by your coach was a good sign that you and the man beside you were doing a discrete job, at least.

-alex and baby go rest, i want you both to repeat the routine in about ten minutes. who’s next? ah yes, cherry, come here- and while cherry was ultimately examined by the hawk eye of your coach, you slumped on the bench not-so-gracefully, groaning tiredly.

a hand reached in front of your eyes, shaking a bottle of energade to catch your attention, -doing alright?- you nodded, grabbing the bottle from your partner’s hands. -yeah, ‘m alright, just tired. think coach will let us go after this one?-

-pretty sure she has to, isn’t there the kid’s lesson in twenty minutes or something? she can’t keep us here.- you nodded again, zoning out for a couple seconds before scoffing, murmuring -she might kidnap us, though. throw us in a bag and force us to perform for her 24/7-

alex chuckled, shaking his head before adding -what, make us act like we have the dancing plague?- you turned your head ready to reply, but stopped midtrack as you caught alex’s smile drop slightly, his eyes fixed on his phone. -everything fine?-

his eyes snapped to your face, inhaling deeply before putting his phone back on the bench, shoulders slumping ever so slightly as he ran a hand through his face, nodding mindlessly before saying -yeah, yeah. just the same problems with my girlfriend… i told you i caught her cheating, right?-

-yep, and i still don’t get why you would go back to her.- alex smiled softly, but sadness dripped from his eyes. -and i hope you’ll never know why, baby.- you stood silent at that, turning your gaze back to the rink where cherry had ended her routine with an elegant bow to the imaginary public. your sweet, beautiful best friend. you couldn’t help but remember that time when she, too, got cheated on by her ex boyfriend. she had no problem dumping him on the spot, and had no regret at all after that, which made you question why it was so hard for alex to do. it left you wondering, but never judging.

soon, it was your turn to perform again.

your routine embodied everything you could wish to see in a couple: it was intense, both in the storytelling and the steps. it was intimate, it was soft and hard, fast and slow. limbs twisting around limbs, hands desperately looking for each other, grabbing the flesh of the other. eyes holding eye contact so intensely that many had told you before that they felt like they weren’t supposed to look, almost too embarrassed to witness such a performance, while others were more straightforward in their questions, asking if you and alex were a thing outside of the rink, too.

alex’s left hand held you close to his body while he lifted you by your leg, his right hand on your inner thigh. you counted down the seconds, holding the final pose until your coach screamed -and done!-, breathing out in relief as alex carefully put you down. -you can go home, guys.-

you exchanged a knowing look with your partner, biting back a laugh as he mouthed -no kidnapping- while sliding away gracefully. you shook your head, catching in that moment a small movement at your left outside of the rink. your head snapped towards the source of disruption, stilling as your eyes took in matt’s tense figure, his gaze burning holes through you. you noticed his jaw tightening when alex quickly greeted you goodbye before bolting out of there, ready to get under the warm water as soon as possible.

with a quick nod of his chin towards the locker room he was out of there, not even waiting for you to catch up to him.

-wait- matt! why are you run- mmph!- a strangled sound escaped your lips as matt locked your lips in a heated kiss right as you entered the locker room, pulling back just to mutter -gather all your things, we’re leaving.-

-what? but i have to shower- -don’t care, you can shower at mine- and that’s basically how you found yourself in your current position, straddling matt’s lap on his couch, still wearing your little leotard. your hips rolled smoothly, feeling his boner stir with each stroke.

you sighed in relief as your boyfriend began attacking your neck in kisses and soft nibbles, sucking and licking the same spot over and over again. -fuckin’ hate how touchy he was- he muttered, punctuating each word with a kiss.

it finally doomed you: his tense demeanor, the fiery gaze, the need to pull you out of there as soon as possible. you grabbed a fistful of his hair, pulling him back gently until you were eye-to-eye level. -matt, are you… jealous?- his icy eyes bore into yours, pupils blown both in lust and jealousy. -it’d be worrying if i weren’t, don’t you think?-

-matt,- you cooed sympathetically, fingertips tracing his torso and travelling south by the second. -there’s nothing to worry about, i promise. let me…-

-no- he interrupted you, grabbing your wrist to stop you from taking his pants off. you looked at him puzzled, asking -you don’t want to?-

matt stared at the wrist he was holding for a moment before his eyes came back up, a dark smirk on his pretty lips. -oh i do, love, but do you deserve it?- and, as taken back as you were, you couldn’t do anything else than opening and closing your mouth like a dying fish. -i don’t think you do.-

you sucked in a shaky breath, shifting around uncomfortably as more arousal pooled in your thong. cause, even though he was punishing you, you couldn’t deny the effect he had over your body, leaving you yearning for more.

-please,- you whimpered, -it aches.- matt hummed, leaning back against the couch carelessly. on his face was plastered the look of total enjoyment, smirking at your need for his body. -yeah? i guess i could be nice and give you something for that- he concluded huskily, his voice thick with lust. he grabbed your waist, moving you back and forth on his lap, letting you grind on his painfully hard boner. your brows scrunched at the sensation, at this point a hundred percent sure that you had wet your baby blue leotard, but you couldn’t care less. all you wanted was to finally cum, regardless of how, when and why.

your hips picked up the rhythm, head coming down to nuzzle in the crook of his neck as you whined and whimpered, hoping that matt might break character and fuck you like you need him to.

-poor little thing you are, hm? feels good, though, doesn’t it?- you nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck as you got closer to your orgasm, feeling matt’s cock throb in his pants. -c’mon, baby, more- fuck- more, like that.-

-i- oh f-fuck, matt, matt, please…- -let go, love- your body shook in matt’s arms as ripples of pleasure broke through you, leaving you a panting, whining mess, your mascara smudging and running down your cheeks. you sniffled lightly, still shaking from the aftershocks while matt held you lovingly, stroking your hair and wiping away the tears stains from your face.

-did so good, my love, such a good girl, my good girl.-

© stvrnioloslvt

[katerinaaqu]

Lol where did I say anyone's opinions is less than another's for that matter? Actually that is literally what you said to me. That my opinion doesn't matter because someone else had that opinion. And I also love the "I am not afraid to" like I feel honored you think someone would be "afraid of me" but that was never part of my profile to begin with lol. No one said you cannot say your opinions. Ironically you came and say to me that my opinion is off. I mention my ethnicity because of your comment about how Greeks look like and I said that I believe I qualify very much to say how Greeks look like. That is not an opinion that is a fact.

I am pretty sure you are being confused. Greeks are europeans. If akin color is not race (which I agre you can find variants to each race group if one can use that) but my comment just in case it escaped you was to show exactly that when you show different ethnicities that also belong to different races or ethnic groups it should be commendable from all sides. And I as a Greek person know that Greeks come in all different shades within the European spectrum. Not in every shade as to every continent in the world. Of we talk about ethnically Greeks that is. If we talk about people with greek nationality that belong to different ethnic groups of course they are as greek as I am nationally but ethnically speaking Greeks are europeans. People in Africa come in many different shades as well. That doesn't mean that I will hire a Scottish looking person to play an African deity nor will I make a historical film about South Africa or Zimbabwe by hiring people from nowadays predominantly white communities just because they are born and raised in Africa for hundreds of years. The same with Greeks. Greeks were moving around in Africa AND Asia. That doesn't give me the right to cast ethnically Greeks to play ethnically African or Asian people just because "different shades" it just looks wrong. And I would absolutely agree to anyone opposing such a bizarre notion.

Like I said the people that I talked with didn't enjoy it. They mocked it. And again I love it how literally double standards is the reason why you attack me in the first place. That for some reason out of the entire bunch voting here it was MY COMMENT about MY CHOICE that erupted this reaction from you or the other commenter but lol

Okay there were a bunch of people who enjoyed racist movies of the past about Africa as well. Does that make whitewashing of Africa right? Of course not. People disrespected the Egyptian history for ages and yet people enjoyed it. Does that mean we shouldn't make it right? Of course not also Greeks laughed at the inaccuracies for a long time and there is always a breaking point for everything or when someone says "maybe it is starting to get too much" the same way that Greeks also complaint about how North European actors are being constantly hired to play greek figures as well. They liked it once they liked it twice but after decades and decades it became annoying and disrespectful.

And I understand and appreciate your opinion but again if it is not so important then why won’t you let people who DO care speak their mind on them and again I wasn't even speaking on the artist whom as I said I deeply appreciate their style and the way they offer effort to the art and all. If it is not important then why did you step in? Again I insulted no one. In fact people came for me with the will to attack me and they have attacked me before for having an opinion for my own culture and its representation and never have I implied that my opinion is the universal truth or truth for all Greeks etc.

I disagree. Like I said Greek gods to me are better depicted as Greeks wanted them to get depicted. The same that Egyptian gods should be as Egyptian wanted them depicted Indian gods should be as Indians wanted them depicted and so on and so forth so the idea that there is no such thing as accuracy to me is wrong. But as I said before that is my opinion.

Redesigned my Athena.

[broomclosetenjoyer]

Thinking about the scene when Irving and Burt meet for the first time. They bond over their shared interest in art and loyalty to the company's values. In retrospect, it makes so much sense yet hurts at the same time.

We find out that Irving Bailiff is an artist, and his appreciation for the aesthetics carries with him inside the office space. Seeing as the only art shown at the Severed floor is to praise Kier and the Eagans, he starts appreciating the values of the company because he connected with the art. It's almost the opposite of what a first time watcher would expect, because the first impression one gets of Irving B is that he's a stickler for the rules, yet it still fits so well.

Burt Goodman's religious beliefs are important enough for him that he gets severed, carrying over that spirituality and trust in higher powers over to the workplace. That is why he takes an interest in the art shown, because it shows the higher powers and mystical narratives behind Lumon. One wouldn't expect him to be Christian because Burt G is the one out of the two who is more willing to bend the rules and interpret them in his own way, but it still fits because one finds out that Burt Goodman is willing to do the same in the outside world.

The fact that Irving B and Burt G are quite the opposite in how their beliefs impacts/are impacted by art is so very fascinating. In the outside world, they couldn't be more different from each other, but on the Severed floor, neither God nor societal issues matter, so falling in love with each other becomes rather inevitable.