#and became a much bigger character later

[double-o-donut]

the thing about MASH is that you really don't have much of a show without Alan Alda, which means for Hawkeye he can't be released from duty/sent home for the entire duration of the series, even as other characters get to be sent home

[mariocki]

New Scotland Yard: Papa Charlie (2.7, LWT, 1972)

"You realise, of course, that anybody, no matter what their rank or position, anybody who was at that meeting - who had sight of this - is now under suspicion of passing information to that gang, don't you?"

"Yes, of course."

"Someone's working on the inside. Could be anybody. Could even be Sergeant Ward - or perhaps you?"

"No."

"Well, we'll see. I intend to find out who it is. And I'm going to give myself one hour in which to do it."

[sapphossparenoterbook]

It Beats For You

You reunite with Rio Vidal, and discover the origins of her magic.

Rio Vidal x Fem!reader, fluff, mention of death (not main character)

You hadn’t seen Rio Vidal in years. There, of course, were rumours that the woman who had helped you hone in on your magic had died somewhere in Eastern Europe with Wanda Maximoff, and had worked alongside the deceased Scarlet Witch on a power hungry quest for more magic. 

Of course, you’d never believe it, deciding instead to hope and pray that your master and ex-lover would have been wise enough not to side with such a chaotic and corrupt force. Sure, Rio was corrupt, but she knows not to mess with forces like The Darkhold. 

Now, here she stands… in the corner of your grandmother's retirement home room? 

“Rio? What are you doing here?” You ask her. 

She’s dressed in an all black outfit as she turns around, black eyeliner, black pants, black headscarf, black shirt. And you could swear she flinches at the sound of your voice. 

“I’m sorry, I’ve put it off for long enough—I can’t break any more rules for you, Y/N.” 

“What?! What do you mean, I haven’t seen you in years, how have you broken rules for me—?” 

She disappears, and you hear your grandmother's heart monitor die out. 

~~6 months later~~

It’s been months. You’ve scoured your books, the internet, everything. There isn’t a known spellbook or encantation that Rio could have learnt to be able to control death. Except for one thing, she’d managed to overthrow Lucifer and become the ruler of hell. For that to have been true, she must’ve died. 

The only obituary for any woman named ‘Rio Vidal’ in the area was over 100 years ago. Which meant she’d lied to you, the entire time you were with her. 

She was never a green witch, or she was, but before she became the personification of death. The point is, she wasn’t ever a green witch when you were with her-she wasn’t a witch at all. She’d lied. 

You’re writing this all out on an old typewriter you were given by Rio herself, a big ‘R’ engraved on the side of it, constantly reminding you of the original owner, when you hear a voice. Is it in the back of your head, through telepathy? Or was she brave enough to finally show up to your house again?

“Is it really that big of a deal?” You hear her sardonic voice, slightly whiny, mainly just that familiar breathlessness she gets when she’s trying to be funny. Normally with a well-timed innuendo, this time with just pure mockery. 

“I dunno, clearly it’s not important enough for you to be here, just good old fashioned telepathy for me, darling? Who am I kidding, you’d never visit me in a million years–except for when I die” You say, not bothering to turn around. Her self preservation is much bigger than any dregs of love she has left for you. 

Suddenly, you feel your chair being roughly spun around by someone-or maybe someone’s magic. 

“Surprise, milady.” 

“How did you– no, why did you come here?” 

“I was in the neighbourhood! Did you miss me?” 

You look her up and down, it’s a different outfit to the one you last saw her in… a detective's outfit. 

“Saving Agatha?” You ask, lifting an eyebrow and grabbing the dangling detective’s badge around her neck reading the inscription on the gold part. It’s so obviously fake, if the purple witch can’t figure out she’s under a spell with just this little prop, then what’s the point in even trying?

“Yeah… don’t get jealous, baby. I’m sure she’ll leave some for you” 

“Don’t be a dick, she wouldn’t touch you with a 10 foot barge pole, not anymore. And if she does, she’d probably just run off to steal someone’s magic.”

You let go of the badge, letting it swing as you spin back around to the old typewriter. Rio walks around the room, studying how much it’s changed, before thrumming her fingers against the door frame and walking around the other rooms of your apartment. You know she hasn’t left, you’re much more attuned to your magic since she left you, and you don’t need to track the girl through the house. Your magic will do that for you whilst you focus. 

“I can read everything you write on that thing, y’know. I put a charm on it before I left you. All those cringey love letters you’ve never sent me? Read them, baby.” She tells you telepathically from the living room. 

“Well then why didn’t you come back? If you wanted to keep tabs on me?” You think back to her. Suddenly she’s teleported back to your side, looking down at you with this weird look in her eye, an emotion you never thought you’d see on her face. Regret. 

“You thought I didn’t want to come back?” 

“Were there any signs for me to have thought otherwise?” 

She sinks to her knees next to you so that she's level with your face, and reaches out with both hands to gently hold it, thumbs rubbing your cheeks like she used to all those years ago before she left without a trace. 

“I was always coming back, just had some things to do for a while. Promise” She mumbles, leaning down and kissing your cheek. 

“You still could have told me, asshole” You mumble back sighing happily at the familiar feeling of her lips against your cheek. She doesn’t let go, hands moving between you cheeks and your hair as she seems to want to grab at all of you, memorise the things she would have forgotten–the texture of your hair, and skin, the smell of your shampoo that you never change, the feel of the soft puffs of air from your breath on her face. 

She can tell, by looking at you, that you’re doing the exact same, neither of them want to move away, which is a little victory for Rio seeing as she can remember all those times that you wouldn't move from the typewriter for even a second when you were busy back when she lived here with you.

“You changed the bathroom floor?” 

“The grout got mouldy.”

“My eucalyptus?” 

“Dead. I didn’t know I had to move it to a bigger pot.”

“Hmph.That was expensive.”

“Should’ve taken it with you then, I always told you I can’t look after plants.”

“You were supposed to use your magic to listen to it’s every need. It makes it much easier, being able to talk to them.” 

“Well, I didn’t know how to do that when you left…” 

“So you know how to do it now?” 

“Are you gonna keep asking me these stupid questions, or will you move on to anything important?” 

“-Are you single?” 

“Yeah–” 

You’re cut off from your sentence with the familiar feeling of one of Rio’s firm, needy kisses. The ones that you'd learnt long ago not to fight for control, because she’d always beat you in that. 

“I missed you so much, baby” She mumbles against your lips as she pulls away only be a millimetre, as if not wanting to back away too far for fear of you pushing her away. 

“I missed you too, darling.” 

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

The Lost Condom

Synopsis: You were in the middle of a spicy time with your boyfriend, when something odd happened: the condom disappeared. Inside. Of. You.

The solution? Go to the hospital.

The problem? Your family didn't know about your relationship.

Pairing: Jon Kent X Gn!AFAB!Reader; Platonic!Batfam

Tw: 18+; Only mention and slight description of genitals and sex, but nothing too explicit; All characters are aged up of course; English isn't my 1st language.

Word count: 1,8k.

Requested? Nah.

Extra notes: This isn't an original idea of mine, it's based on a real life story someone told me. Also the family finding out scene was inspired by this fanfic from @dccomicsimagines and this scene from Megamind. Also, eventually I will work on the asks waiting for me I swear 😭

General masterlist

So… You were in the middle of… Having fun… With your boyfriend… When suddenly, he said something that really confused you.

— Hmm… Babe… Where’s the condom? — Your head snapped back to look at him, since you were on all fours.

— Where's the ‘what’? — Your eyes were wide, unconsciously. Jon was blushing intensely, looking from your eyes to your entrance. He didn't know how to explain.

— I-I-I put it inside with the condom on, but now it's… Gone! — You narrowed your eyes. You watched him wrap and then enter you, you didn't feel him pull out at any moment, and even if he did, why would he tell you that he pulled out, took the condom off and then put it inside again secretly while you were still going at it?

You were both silent for a few seconds.

— Search for it! — You practically yelled at him, making him scramble to get off of you. You laid with your back down and legs open, looking at the ceiling, trying to calm down and not feel embarrassed. You felt him entering you with his fingers and searching around for minutes, grumbling and getting frustrated. The sensation was good… But you had bigger priorities at hand!

You huffed and changed positions a few times. A pillow underneath your butt, legs up, on all fours. Nothing worked. You even searched around the room and the bed, just to be sure. At some point, you both defeatedly decided it was best you go to the hospital.

The thing is, your relationship was still new, and no one in your family was aware. Lois and Clark already knew and approved, and you thought Cass suspected you were seeing someone, but you hadn't told them yet.

Especially Damian.

You and Jon knew each other years before Damian was even part of the family, since Bruce raised you since your birth — you were the product of one of his affairs, your biological mother didn't want to raise you, but she also didn't want to abort, so she and Bruce agreed that he would have you as soon as you were born — and he's best friend was Clark. Although, you didn't see each other much back then. It was after the Supersons became a team and besties that he started frequenting the manor more. You always had a childhood crush on each other — Jon thought you were beautiful and nice, and you thought he was cute and sweet, very different from the gross and rude boys from your school. —. Until you were each other's first kiss, then years later, first relationship, and first time. Of course, all in secret from Damian. The older family members only knew about your crush because of your physical language, but since you grew older and learned to hide, they assumed it was just a childish crush from the past.

Lois and Clark knew and approved, but they also always reminded you that you needed to tell Bruce soon, or at least Alfred, especially after you started being sexually active.

Unfortunately, the day came. Yes, you and Jon were old enough to have sex, but too young to be mature and brave enough to go to the hospital by yourselves. Lois was in another country for work, Clark was in the Watchtower in a League meeting, your dad was there too. Leaving the 2nd best option: Alfred — the best would be Lois, then Alfred, Clark, Cass, and then you would have to discuss which one of your other family members would it be.

Since you were in Metropolis — again, no one knew. More privacy wink wink —, Jon flew you back to Gotham, and you both almost cheered when you realized you were completely home alone, except for Alfred, of course.

Poor Alfred knew something was up when you suddenly were back from your “shopping trip”, with messy hair and clothes, red face and Superboy looking almost sick. He released a long sigh.

— Mx/Miss/Master (Y/N). Young Mr. Kent… — You cleared your throat.

— Alfred… We need help…

After you explained everything, Alfred looked ten years older. He didn't comment on anything, but his face showed how unimpressed he was. He just gestured for you to follow him to the garage, took the keys and started driving.

— Let me warn Master Bruce while we are-

— NO! — You yelled, started. He looked at you through the rearview mirror disapprovingly.

— Should I remind you that he will see the hospital bill and go after the truth? — You bit your lip.

— No, I know that. Just… Can't we pay on cash? — You smiled at him hopefully and nervously, but it was more like a grimace. Alfred was silent. You groaned. — I will tell him okay! Tonight! — Jon’s eyes snapped to yours, wide. — Relax! You're not gonna die!

— Yeah, until Damian whips out a kryptonite sword… — He groaned, hiding his burning face in your neck. You huffed, now wasn't time for him to be adorable.

— He doesn't have a kryptonite sword. Dad didn't let him do it. He would have to build it first. That would give him enough time to calm down. — Jon looked at you, indignant. Alfred cleared his throat.

— While we're there, I can't make any promises that if your father asks, I will hide the truth. He will know. — You and your boyfriend groaned, rubbing your faces with your hands.

— Yes, Alfred, I know…

Two hours later, you were finally laid down in position for the doctor to begin the procedure. Since if wasn't anything serious, you were on the emergency and there was only a curtain separating you from the rest of the patients outside. Alfred was sitting just outside, waiting, while Jon was standing by your side, holding your hand, as if you were about to give birth. The doctor was amused by your story, and her jokes helped you calm down.

She searched around you for a few minutes, the instrument she was using inside you being a little uncomfortable. Jon was silently horrified when he saw, you were startled too, but maintained the composure.

— AHA! Found it! It was really deep inside, almost on your cervix! — When she pulled out the condom, you both let out a breath of relief you didn't know you were holding.

You quickly put your clothes on again, you and Jon chatting as everything seemed lighter, and then left.

What you didn't know was that when Bruce got home and you and Alfred weren't there, it made him call, finding out just that you were in the hospital. Alfred refused to say much more than reassure him that it wasn't urgent and that he would soon know, thus he didn't have to crazily drive all the way there. That didn't stop him from alerting all your siblings.

When you got home, your whole family was there.

— Jon?! What're you doing here? — Alfred kept a straight face. Wow, he really wasn't going to help.

— Hmmm... — Jon subtly and subconsciously hid behind you. You shifted from one foot to another. Damian got up with a threatening scowl. You just came from the hospital. With a kryptonian.

— Kent! If you hurt my sibling I will-

— I didn't! — Jon almost yelled, then covered his face with his hands.

— Then, what is happenning here? — Bruce got up with a raised brow, analyzing the situation.

You thought for a moment. You either told them now and made things easier, or you spent all the way to dinner with them bothering you to tell. You could take it, Jon couldn't.

You took a deep breath.

— JonandIwerehavingsexwhenthecondomdisappearedinsideofmewecouldn'tfinditanywheresoweaskedAlfredforhelpandwenttothehospital.

They blinked.

— … What?

You huffed.

— Jon and I were having sex, when the condom disappeared inside of me. We couldn't find it anywhere, so we asked Alfred for help and went to the hospital. — You said, slower this time, although uma lower, more abashed tone.

Silence.

— … But… It was stuck inside? Weren't you wet, though…? — Tim's analysis broke the silence.

— SEX?! — Dick and Jason exclaimed.

— YOU WERE HAVING SEX WITH MY SIBLING?!

— Knew it. — Cass smiled and nodded, proud of herself.

Bruce heaved a sigh and sat down again.

— I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU DID THIS! — Damian threw Tim's coffee mug in your direction and Jon zoomed in front of you. The mug broke. Jon had a sheepish expression.

— Tim, go grab kryptonite. — Jason ordered and got up, walking toward the hidden compartment in the shelf where he kept his guns. Dick held him back while Damian threw a flower vase at Jon.

— No! Don't do that, Tim. — Dick ordered back. Tim shook his head.

— I wasn't going to anyway… — He mumbled. Damian threw the center table.

— YOU ACTED BEHIND MY BACK! YOU TRAITOR! YOU- OUCH! PENNYWORTH STOP! — Alfred tutted, pinching his ear.

— I'm sure civilized conversations don't involve breaking the forniture. — Alfred shot a pointed look at Bruce. — Master Bruce! Say something! — Your dad just kept gazing at you and your boyfriend.

Cass sighed, stepping toward Bruce and sitting beside him.

— (Y/N)’s happy. He’s good. They're careful. — Bruce nodded, finally showing some reaction and looking pleased. Jason stopped struggling against Dick and looked at you.

— I don't care. I'm going to kill him. — Damian growled, starting to pace around the room in anger. Jon silently sighed in relief that Damian kept his distance by being on the other side of the room, the couch and the whole family serving as a barrier. You stepped forward.

— It's not casual. We've been together for almost two months now. — Everyone but Alfred and Cass gasped. Damian burned holes in Jon’s head with his eyes and your dad looked at you, masking his mix of emotions.

Cass tsk.

— So clueless. Many signs. — She shook her head.

— (Y/N), why didn't you tell us before? — Dick asked carefully, walking in your direction and stopping in front of you. Jon fiddled behind you. You shrugged.

— Didn't want to deal with you all while we were just starting things. Especially if it didn't work out.

— When were you planning to tell us? — You pouted.

— I don't know… In a month or two? You guys probably would find out by yourselves. — You shrugged.

— You've been sneaking out a lot… — Tim spoke up for the second time, catching everyone’s attention. He was fiddling with his laptop, likely doing his own investigation. The ones closest to Tim looked from the monitor to you again.

— When did you go to Metropolis?! — Jason exclaimed, indignantly.

— Hehe…

Damian growled.

— So that's why you've been ditching me?! — Damian pointed a finger at Jon, who scratched the back of his head.

— Surprise...? — Jon weakly sang the word.

Bruce cleared his throat.

— So that's why Clark’s been acting like he was happy he knew something I didn't… — He got up and pointed at you. — No more sneaking out. Ask permission before going anywhere. — You opened your mouth to protest, but he stopped you. — Either that or you're grounded. — You pursed your lips and nodded in defeat. — Now we will talk about birth control…

Comment, like and reblog 🥰

DC Taglist:

@wandalfnation @vadersassistant @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @hxsun4 @silverklaus @toast-on-dandelioms @bluewillbon

[gibberishfangirl]

WINDBREAKER | sloppy toppy

Synopsis ✰ when they get head…

Characters ✰ Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Hayato Suo, Akihiko Nirei, Toma Hiragi, Mitsuki Kiryu, Jo Togame, Choji Tomiyama

Contains ✰ oral (m!receiving), messy head, head pushers, face fucking, hair pulling, choking/gagging, degradation, praise, Hiragi smokes in this, cigarettes, recording, video footage, masturbation, mean!characters, nice!characters, ume being huge, toga is also huge sorry not sorry, mix of the boys being submissive/dominant, some characters are experienced, experienced!reader, 18+ / nsfw!

Sakura ᡣ𐭩 couldn’t help himself. his face turning the brightest shade of red imaginable as he looked down to your lewd expression. you were drooling all over him, he felt the liquid of your spit trickling down his thigh. he swallowed hard trying to maintain eye contact with your teary eyes. god, he should be ashamed for himself for taking advantage of your throat in such an indecent manner. he should feel even worse for the strong grip he has on your hair. however, all that doubt was lost once he felt the vibration of your moans and whimpers around the base of his cock. it was easy for him to throw his head back in a moan as he started to push his cock deeper down your throat. any amount of shame that should’ve entered his mind evaporated as the pleasure he felt of his tip hitting the back of your throat took over. he was always so eager to have your throat please him in a way he’s never been pleased before. “so so so good. fuck~” his voice would give out on him as he’d start to whimper and chant a series of cuss words. what made matters worse is how he’ll fuck his fist later that same exact night to the memory of you choking and gagging around him. Sakura became a sinner the day he finally felt what it was like to receive head and he could never get enough. not that you minded, it was flattering to see how your boyfriend blushed and moaned each time as if it was the very first time all over again.

Umemiya ᡣ𐭩 was always patient with you. he knew he was big, bigger than what you might’ve been used to. he always caressed the side of your cheek while fixing your hair. his rough hands tucking a strand or two behind your ear so he can get a better look of your cute face. “so pretty for me~ you take cock so good don’t you?” he’d coo at you with soft words. praising you for relaxing your throat around his girth so well. “you ready baby? ready to take my cock? be good for me.” he’d ask you before getting up from his seat rising at his full height. you stayed on your knees humming a small “mhmm” in response. he looked so handsome standing in front of you, it felt like he wasn’t even real. the way he stood tall and prideful as his muscles tensed and silver hair rested perfectly on his head. his hands tangled themselves into your hair in order to makeshift a ponytail. you looked so beautiful underneath him like this. “tap my thigh if it’s too much for you pretty.” Despite being with other men in the past, none of them ever managed to fuck your throat as good as Umemiya did. hell, they didn’t even come close to half a man Ume was. the way he took control of you and dominated you through every step as he harshly thrusted his hips into your mouth. Ume was everything you could wish for in a man. Especially with the way he rewarded you after taking his cock so well. the way he’d shower you in kisses and interlock your lips after he pulls you off his cock. setting you down gently on the soft sofa ready to return the favor.

The most gentle being on earth, Suo ᡣ𐭩. he’d hate to get too selfish with you while you were on your knees doing your absolute best to please him. he was in awe that someone as perfect as you was willing to get to filthy for him. he’d let out the softest moans as he swing his head back. this is the time where he felt the most relaxed, having you in between his legs bobbing your head up and down his shaft was like heaven to him. the closest thing to heaven he’ll ever feel that is. he lived in complete bliss with how talented you were with your tongue. letting your delicate tongue swirl itself around his tip and then up and down his length before taking his whole once again. “fuck~ do that again please. you’re so good at this. almost like you were made for it huh? made to take me?” he’d tease at you with a small smile. you’d have to try to hold back a smile as you hummed in response. being made for only Suo was the biggest compliment you think anyone could give you. “such a perfect girl for me. all mine.” he’d whisper before pulling you off his length. leaning down to give you a kiss “mhm all yours Suo, i promise.” reassure him say once the kiss ends. before he could even respond you’ll find yourself making your way back to his cock already missing the presence of it inside your mouth. Luckily for you Suo wasn’t much of a head pusher, he’d relax and let you move at your pace while he grips the sheets with his hands. his moans and grunts as his legs began to tremble as he reaches his high keeps you going.

being mean was completely out of his comfort zone. actually… it was completely out of character for him. anyone who knows Nirei ᡣ𐭩 would be able to testify that the guy doesn’t have a single mean bone in his body. that’s also what you thought before you had the privilege to please his perfect pinkish colored tip from his cock. he never meant to get mean with you but he always lost himself in his feeling of ecstasy. it felt too good for him to hold back. he would be mean with the way he rutted his cock down your throat. giving you no room to breathe or relax as he set a brutal pace. not to mention the tight grip he’d have on your hair as he yanked you off his cock as soon as he felt himself getting too close too early. he’d hold you in place with a deadly strength you didn’t even know he had inside him. he’d pant and you’d sit there with a pout on your lips from being pulled off his cock. Nirei was so selfish in these moments he didn’t realize you didn’t want him to stop, you wanted him to keep going until he shot another load deep down your throat. Nirei would let out an exhale as he finally set his eyes on your pouty cute expression. he felt a blush creeping up to his cheeks as he noticed the amount of drool, spit, and cum you had smeared all around the sides of your mouth. your lips that also happened to be swollen into a deep shade of red from how harsh his pace was. “i’m sorry baby, i got too carried away huh?” he’d sheepishly apologize as you pulled him back closer to you once again by the belt loop from his pants. “it’s okay ni’ want more of you okay?” you’d look up at him with a smile that melted his heart. you’ll be the absolute death of him.

this is exactly what Hiragi ᡣ𐭩 needed after a long day dealing with the crew. you knew how stressed the poor guy got after having to deal with absolute chaos for most of his day. not to mention all the reports he had to give Ume about everything that went wrong. he felt his body finally get a chance to settle and relax into the comfort of his soft bed sheets. “fuck~ just like that.” he’d groan gripping the side of his sheets with one hand as the other reached over to grab his pack of cigarettes. funny, you used to hate the smell of cigarettes before you met him. never thought you’d be the kind of person to be in between a man’s leg as he took a drag on his cigarette but here you are. your eyes flicked with innocence and memorization as you glanced up and saw him light the cig in between his fingers. was it bad to say you found it attractive how quick he was able to open up a pack and take out a single cig with only one hand? you bobbed your head up and down quickening your pace making your boyfriend hiss at the new feeling. his rested his hand gently on the back of your neck soaking in the wetness and pleasure your mouth had to offer him. “nghn- what’d i do to deserve you?” he’d grunt in pleasure before pulling you off of him. your lips glistening in a mix of his precum and your saliva, he leaned down to deliver a soft kiss onto your lips. you leaned into him deepening the kiss as your hand traveled from his thigh to his shaft. pumping him soft and slowly as he moaned against your lips. the bitter taste of nicotine from his tongue poisoned your mouth in the most addictive way possible. if anyone asked Toma what was his favorite way to relax he’d most likely respond with sleeping but in reality it was this.

Kiryu ᡣ𐭩 was incredibly experienced, more experienced than you were. he was a ladies man he couldn’t help himself but to indulge in indecent acts before meeting you. he’d always reassure you that you’re the best he’s ever had. it wasn’t a lie either, his perfect soft moans that sound like they came from a movie were all yours to hear. he was perfect, the way he had the right amount of girth while standing at a good 7 inches when completely erect. in his eyes you were also perfect with the way your glossy pink lips would smear the substance around the base of his cock, marking how deep you can take him. he can’t even keep count of the amount of times he’s found himself shoving a hand down his pants as he watched the video of you sucking him off on his phone. the wet lewd sounds that could be heard in his headphones whenever you moved your head up and down. he perfectly captured the moment you gagged around him as he held your pretty little head in place. he picked up the pace on fucking his fist with hie cock tryna match his climax to be on time with the version of him in the video. wishing he could relive that exact moment right now, but of course you were too busy studying for your final exam. “oh shit~ agh fuck.” he’d let out small pants trying to catch his breath as he made a mess of himself all over his hand. he’d take a pic of the mess and send it to you with a message ‘hope my hand gets replaced by your pretty mouth soon’.

“fuck, such a good slut hm? take me in so well, look at you. couldn’t even wrap your whole hand around it yet you’re taking it so easy down your throat.” Togame ᡣ𐭩 would tease at you not letting you respond as he shoved himself deeper down your throat. he felt his cock throb in response to your gag and tears streaming down your face. such a humiliating position your lover would put you in as he waved a camera in your face. “wanna show everyone what a good slut you are? bet you’re wet right now too huh.” your mascara and make up got ruined long ago when he first climaxed in your slutty mouth. you’d figure toga would be tired of overstimulating himself but no he loved wearing you down more than anything. he loved pushing your buttons and testing your limits as he edged himself again and again with your throat. he’d take himself out of your mouth just to slap your tongue with his length before rubbing the tip of his cock around your lips. “such a pretty face, getting all ruined for me.” “mhm” all you could do was agree wanting him to continue his actions already missing the bitter taste of him in your mouth. “relax, don’t be so desperate. we’re just getting started.” he’d scold you and grab you by your hair when you tried taking him back in without permission. “c’mon open your mouth f’me” he’d command giving the camera a full view of your cute face as you stuck out your tongue to reveal the mess Toga made. “ugh, so good for me angel”

“agh~ shit shit shit shit, so good. oh god, pleaseplease, holy shit. fuckksaghm.” the poor boy couldn’t help but spew gibberish as he felt his legs buckle and tremble under him. felt so so good. his eyes were clinched as he swung his head back lost in complete bliss as your tongue slid up his shaft and licked across the slit of his tip. “Choji ᡣ𐭩 ~ ya gotta look at me baby. it’s no fun if i can’t see your face.” you teased. Choji built up the courage to look down and face your eyes. you gave him a soft smile before popping his tip back into your mouth maintaining eye contact as you started to deep throat him. Choj swallowed hard, already struggling to keep looking at you commit such a lewd act. he couldn’t help but wonder what others would say if they knew how quick he was to melt under your touch. the panting whimpering mess he becomes with a blush that trails from his cheeks to the very tips of his ears. he was supposed to be a big bad leader yet here he was, being so weak for you. he snapped out his trance when you began to massage his balls with your free hand. his eyes shut themselves again as he let out a sharp gasp “ah- fuckk. so good. too good.” his hands would instinctively slam themselves against his eyes as he covered his very heated expression. you had to fight back a smile from his cute reactions. such a sweet sensitive guy. feeling his hips buckle against your other hand as you held him down was always a sweet treat. knowing how you were the one holding your lover back.

[lilithslittleworld]

New To This

A/N: I made a poll a few weeks ago about wanting to write a new smut with several different scenarios/characters with a winner of "Jacob Black x Reader"!

I initially wanted to write a really steamy, sexy scene but it ended up evolving into a steamy but also loving/fluffy sex scene! *i feel like this is werewolf Jacob meets cute, pre-wolf Jacob* I hope you all enjoy ;)

(PS: Nessie does not and will not exist in this fanfic, aka you and Jacob will live happily ever after. Also both of you are 18 or above ).

Summary: A few weeks after Bella and Edward's wedding, Jacob teaches you how to cliff dive. You're sure you could teach him a few things too...

The wind howled viciously, sending your hair flying in every direction and shivers that racked your body. You stepped closer to the cliff's edge, peering slightly over to catch a glimpse of the angry waves below.

Jacob stood behind you, his arms crossed over his bare chest as he scowled at you. "This is a terrible idea," Jacob huffed, his dark eyebrows pinching in worry.

Jacob never wore shirts, or at least that's what it seemed like. "It was your idea," you reminded him. Jacob glared at you in response but took a step forward.

"You're really going to do this, aren't you?" he asked, a smirk tugging at his lips. It was a silly question to ask, since you both knew the answer.

"You better believe it," you grinned back at him. You pulled off your thick coat, leaving it folded on a rock beside Jacob's truck. You two would have to come back up for both sooner or later and the idea of being weighed down by a water-soaked winter coat didn't sound ideal. Your boots came off as well, for good measure.

The cold made your hands sting, turning your knuckles an angry red as you stood in your thin, long sleeved shirt, jeans, and socks. Jacob on the other hand, stood comfortably, despite lacking a shirt and in shorts.

"H-how are you not freezing?" you asked incredulously, your teeth chattering, "It's the middle of December!"

"I'm just a little hotter than most," Jacob winked at you, holding out a hand. "Ready whenever you are."

You rolled your eyes at him but brought your hand to his. You couldn't help but notice how much bigger they were, most of Jacob was anyway. They were also exceptionally warm just as you had expected. Maybe he did run warmer than the rest of people...

"Okay," you breathed, as Jacob guided you both to the cliff's edge, the waters below you lapped furiously at the rocky coast, "On the count of three. One, two, th-"

And suddenly you were falling. You screamed at Jacob for not having respected the countdown but it was useless, the fall was short and the wind howled even louder as you plummeted into the cold, dark water.

Your body sank like a stone, the weight pulling you down deeper into the frigid water. You thrashed your arms, desperate to make it to the surface once again. Thousands of little ice-like knives sank into your skin with every movement. You wondered how Jacob was handling the cold. But there were more important things to think about now. You were running out of air.

Now only a few feet from the surface, you felt a strong arm pulling you up towards it at an incredible speed. Your head broke through the surface, your mouth opening automatically to gasp the free air greedily. As your panic started to ebb, your sight began to unblur slowly, taking in your surroundings and the breathless boy before you.

"Y/N!" Jacob gasped, partially due to the little stunt he'd pulled with the jump, having swam around to find you, and worry. "Can you hear me?"

You nodded quickly, taking into account how clogged your ears were. "I'm good," you croaked, followed by a tamer fit of coughing.

Jacob wrapped a protective arm around you, dragging you along with him as his legs and free arm paddled you both towards the shore. You protested at first until it became clear that you were unable to swim that distance and that Jacob would never let you go.

"That was fun," you noted cheerfully, as the ocean floor below you began to rise enough for Jacob to stand. It would take you a little longer to reach.

"Yeah, well it's never happening again," he scoffed, wading out of the shallow water, "You could've died." You watched as little water droplets dripped from his short hair down his toned back and shoulders, secretly hoping swimming with him would happen again soon.

It was no secret that you were attracted to Jacob. Besides, he rarely hid the fact that he was interested in you as well. You two had met at Bella Swan's wedding. It wasn't a great introduction, to say the least, but it eventually blossomed into whatever this was. Jacob was always honest about what he felt but he had never made any grandiose confessions or even really specified what you were to him, apart from a girl he liked. He was careful around you.

Jacob's voice interrupted your thoughts and so did the cold. "You're going to freeze to death if you stay in there," he called out, a hint of superiority in his voice.

"Stupid fireboy," you muttered under your breath, as you dragged your nearly numb legs forward. He was right. Your fingers had started to turn blue and you became aware of how little of your body you could feel.

"What was that?" he grinned, amused at your suddenly cranky mood.

"Oh, I know you heard me," you hissed, swatting his arms away as he tried to pull you into them. "Stupid supersonic hearing."

Jacob laughed, clearly still thrilled. "Come here," he said, scooping you into his arms. You were so grateful for the warmth that radiated from his skin that you said nothing as he carried you across the woods.

"I could teach you thing too, you know," you said sullenly, watching the little beach disappear from your sight.

"I'm sure you could," he replied, "But no one's teaching anyone anything until you're out of these wet clothes and showered."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. Was he intending to shower with you? You had never done more than makeout with this boy but the idea of him in a shower with you sent your pulse overboard.

Neither of you said anything else until Jacob's house. You had never really been inside before. Any ideas you had of it were based on the little you had been able to see when you peeked through the front door, waiting for Jacob in other occasions. Now, you stepped through the doorframe, taking in the small but cozy house.

Jacob walked you towards a little wooden door. "My room," he noted quietly, scratching his neck embarrassed, as you peered inside. It had a twin bed, a wooden desk, and a handful of tiny, wooden sculptures. On his bedframe, right above his pillow, hung a delicate dreamcatcher.

How many times had you imagined his room? Now you were in it, your past daydreams and fantasies coming to life.

"Do you want to shower first?" Jacob asked, pulling out a clean towel from the bathroom closet. Oh.

"Sure," you said, hoping he wouldn't pick up on the slight disappointment that dripped in your voice. This was, after all, the first time in his house, he wasn't going to rush into anything just because you were here.

Showering brought back the humanness in you that had been lost to the cold. Your skin returned to its normal feel, slightly tingly from the warm water and you could now feel every inch of yourself. You lathered yourself up in soap, scrubbing extra in all the places that might be the slightest bit smelly. You washed your hair too, getting rid of any sand or seaweed that had found its way there.

You wrapped yourself in the large towel that Jacob had given you, grateful that it covered you almost entirely. With the edge of the towel, you wiped away a circle on the foggy mirror. You looked almost the same as you had this morning, which was a relief.

Jacob sat on his bed, fiddling with his hands as you tiptoed into his room.

"You can go," you said softly. Jacob looked up at you. You could tell he was trying his hardest to keep his eyes on yours. A hint of blush spread along his face, as his eyes made their way down from your mouth to your neck and finally landing on your collarbones.

Jacob stood up quickly, pulling pieces of clothing from his drawers. "Cool," he smiled at you, "Don't go anywhere."

Jacob's room felt cozy, even with just you in it. Your hands unfolded the lumps of cloth he had laid out for you: one oversized t-shirt and a pair of what seemed to be old boxer shorts. You pulled them on gratefully, now really feeling warm and cleaned up. They smelled like Jacob, a scent that sent your heart into an excited flutter.

The sound of running water sent an excited shiver down your spine. You had imagined Jacob showering so many times on your own, taking your time to really focus on what he did in there. If only you could see him now. The idea of Jacob naked now, made your breath hitch in the back of your throat.

The silence broke your train of thought. Jacob would be back in his room in just minutes and here you were, fantasizing and hyperventilating over him. You sat down on the edge of his bed, making an effort to take deep breaths, an attempt to look as normal as possible. You sat awkwardly on the corner of his bed, trying hard not to be suggestive or the opposite of that.

Jacob walked in, his hair still damp and holding the tightly wrapped towel around his hips. Your eyes made their way to where his towel met his bare skin, your imagination wild. Seeing him now was so different to all the other times, this time there was almost nothing between you except a little towel, ironically.

"Enjoying the view?" Jacob's voice pierced the deafening silence but his playful tone didn't match his eyes. His deep, dark eyes burned into your own, a want behind them that was almost palpable. You felt your face growing warm at his words but there was not an ounce of regret in you.

"I think you're wearing far too much clothes," you answered boldly, an answer he seemed to enjoy as you watched a smile creep onto his lips.

"You're one to talk," he chuckled, turning away from you as he searched for his next change of clothes.

"I think that's an easy problem to solve," you said softly, pulling off the boxers you wore and tossing them over to him. Jacob caught them easily, pulling them on quickly before dropping the towel.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. He was getting dressed, not undressed. You felt stupid now, feeling significantly naked despite the dress-like shirt that covered you.

Jacob seemed to pick up on your puzzled expression. He ran his fingers through his hair nervously, exhaling before he spoke. "I've never done this."

It actually came as a great surprise that Jacob was a virgin. You had expected him to be fairly experienced, given his attitude and the obvious physical attractiveness. Now you were thrown off your game.

"I-I really thought you had," you confessed, "A few times actually."

Jacob shook his head, his eyes still trained intently on the floor. "Never really got the chance," he said softly.

A pang hit your heart. Jacob seemed truly embarrassed and almost hurt. It had never been your intention to make him feel bad about the matter. You knew something had hurt him far before your had come along. You didn't know much about his past attachment to Bella Swan but you were sure that she wasn't a person that had brought him much joy during that time.

"It's okay, Jake," you assured him gently, "I was just curious but it doesn't matter."

Jacob brought his gaze up to you, his eyes soft. "I'd like to try but I don't want to hurt you, Y/N."

"You won't hurt me, Jake," you replied, walking over to him before reaching your hand out to his. He took your hand in his, the warmth of his skin spreading all over you.

You pulled him towards you, your eyes never leaving his. "You have to promise me that you'll tell me if I hurt you," Jacob said earnestly, his grip on your hand tightening faintly.

"I trust you," you whispered, wrapping an arm around his neck, placing your other hand on the side of his face.

Jacob leaned his face against your hand momentarily before taking your face in his hands, pressing his lips softly against yours. It was no surprise that his lips were just as warm as the rest of him. A shiver ran down your back as you kissed him back, your lips moving gently against his. Your hands found their way to his hair, running your fingers through it. Jacob groaned, pulling you closer to him, his breath quickening. Soon, every bit of you was touching him, every inch of skin against him. You could feel the little droplets of sweat beading on your forehead and running down your back from the heat of his body.

The need for him gnawed at you, the flutters in your stomach grew as Jacob took you into his arms, your legs straddling his hips. A ripple of pleasure went through you as you made contact with his hardened length, barely concealed by the boxers you'd thrown at him earlier. Jacob walked you over to his bed, his strong arms holding you up against him, his lips never leaving yours. He laid you down slowly, placing a steady hand against the mattress on either side of your body.

You brought you lips back to his eagerly, hoping he wouldn't be as careful with you anymore. You knew you weren't going to get anywhere as long as Jacob tiptoed around you. You were going to set the pace. Your kisses deepened as you ran your fingertips lightly down his neck towards his chest, Jacob's breathless sighs mixing with yours as you touched him. Your fingers trailed down along his chest, making their way towards the edge of his boxers. You could feel Jacob's stomach quivering as you brought your touch closer to him. You wanted so badly to feel him trembling beneath your hands.

You dipped a finger under the band of his boxers. He felt so much warmer than anywhere else. You wanted to feel that heat everywhere. Jacob's breath hitched when your hand came in contact with him, so hard and hot on your fingertips. Instinctually, you wrapped your hand around his throbbing length, not surprised its size. He was so big. You brought your gaze back up to Jacob, who now had his eyes shut tightly and eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. You watched him as you gave him lazy, long strokes, practically drooling at the noises that came out of his mouth. He looked so beautiful, so lost in your touch, his muscular arms beginning to shake as he kept himself propped up above you. A finger rubbed softly against his already wet tip brought a strangled moan out from Jacob. Your strokes became quicker, mesmerized at the feeling of him growing harder in your hand.

Jacob slowly began to come undone above you, his whole body shaking as he held himself up above you still. "Please," was all he could coherently plead. And you loved it. Seeing this vulnerability in Jacob was something you were not expecting and it only made you want him more. Your strokes returned to the slower pace you had started with, knowing he was just minutes away from cumming.

Jacob opened his desire-filled eyes as your hands came to a stop. You pushed him back gently, your hands on his muscular chest, until he was sitting on his knees. You propped yourself up on your elbows, pulling his shirt off of you, as Jacob watched you with wide eyes. Now fully exposed before him, excitement coursed through your veins. Jerking him off had made the heat pool between your legs almost impossible to ignore. You were desperate for any sort of release and you were going to get it.

You laid yourself back on the bed, Jacob still kneeled at the foot of it, his eyes trained on you, running up and down your naked body. Slowly, you ran a hand down your chest, pausing to squeeze your boobs before trailing your fingers down your stomach. Your legs parted, knowing very well what view Jacob would have from where he sat. And you began.

After years of knowing your body, touching yourself was simple and well known. Your fingers brushed your clit lightly, gasping at the shock that ran through you. The circles started slowly, pacing yourself as the tightness in your stomach began to build. You lost yourself in the pleasure, not holding back the moans that sprang from your lips. You knew very well Jacob too, was touching himself. You could hear it. The noises of his slick hand running up and down his length, mixed with his soft groans and breaths.

You opened your eyes to the vision of Jacob touching himself, his eyes dripping with lust as he watched you do the same to yourself, the veins on his arms bulging from the movement.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked slyly, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

"You," he panted, his chest rising and falling as he responded.

"Mmmm," you breathed, "What about me?"

"About touching you. Tasting you. Being inside of you and making you feel so good," he said, his deep voice strained as he tried to contain himself.

"I want you to," was all you said.

Jacob was back on top of you in the blink of an eye. He was everywhere. Kissing, touching, and licking every inch of you. He felt like the sun, spreading a delicious warmth all over you. His mouth was on your stomach, parting your legs with his arms before trailing down to your inner thighs. You wanted him so badly and he knew.

His mouth found your clit, giving it a light lick as your eyes rolled back, gripping his hair tightly. You moaned as you felt Jacob's tongue drawing circles, your hips bucking involuntarily seeking more.

"Mmm," Jacob hummed, sending vibrations through your core as he did. You were so close.

"Wait," you breathed, your mind foggy from the pleasure. Jacob looked up at you, his expression slightly worried.

"Is everything okay?" he whispered, his mouth still wet from you.

"Kiss me," you commanded, pulling him to you eagerly. Your lips met in a frantic effort, tasting the sweet, slightly salty taste of yourself on his lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his, moaning softly at the feeling of his hardened dick against your bare stomach.

Jacob rolled over onto his back, his hands on your hips as you now straddled him. Your hips moved automatically against his, brushing your clit against his cock, your wetness dripping onto it.

"God," Jacob groaned, his fingers digging into your hips as he guided your movements to an even quicker pace. "So hot."

"I need you," you breathed, throwing your head back as you neared your orgasm again, "Inside of me."

Something snapped inside of Jacob as you moaned those words. His hands fumbled to find a condom on tiny nightstand beside his bed, wasting no time in pulling it down his cock. You lifted your hips as he positioned himself below you before pulling you down for another kiss.

"Are you sure about this?" he murmured, his eyes searching yours as his thumb stroked your cheek.

"I am," you replied, kissing him gently.

"I love you, Y/N," he whispered against your lips. Your heart leaped.

"I love you too, Jake," you sighed back.

You lowered yourself onto him slowly, taking time to adjust to his size, listening to Jacob gasp as you took more of him in. He stretched you perfectly, the tip of his dick hitting your G-spot as you started to tentatively bounce up and down him. As you sped up, Jacob's hands found your boobs, taking them into his mouth as you moaned his name, his hands snaking their way down your back.

"Jake," you moaned, as his tongue swirled around your hardened nipple.

"Tell me," he groaned, "Tell me how good I make you feel."

"So good," you panted as Jacob's lips found your neck, biting your soft skin gently.

"That's it," he pleaded, "Ride me just like that. Please, Y/N."

Your hips were moving at an incredible speed, bringing you so close to the edge. You could feel Jacob's cock twitching inside of you, signaling his approaching orgasm.

"I'm gonna cum," you whined, no longer worried about what you said or how. All you could think about was Jacob.

"Mmmm, cum all over me," he breathed, his fingers gripping your ass tightly as he made you ride him even faster. It was all too much. Jacob inside of you, Jacob groaning your name, his breathless pleads, the heat of his body. Your orgasm shook through you, you threw your head back and cried out in pleasure. Your sight even blurred momentarily. Jacob's orgasm quickly followed your own, your name falling from his lips repeatedly as he buried himself deep inside you one last time.

It took you both a few minutes to catch your breaths, entangled in a sweaty mess as you did. Jacob stroked your hair softly and you traced imaginary swirls along his chest.

"So," you began, "you love me?"

Jacob laughed, his whole body shaking and ultimately shaking you as well. "Of course I do, Y/N."

You shrugged. "You'd never mentioned it."

"Well, my past love confession didn't go too well," he sighed, "Which I know is unfair to you but I wanted to use those words carefully this time, especially with someone as special as you."

"I understand," you smiled, propping your head on your hands to meet Jacob's gaze, "It's just nice to hear is all."

"It's nice to say," he said, his smile reaching all the way up to his eyes.

"Hmmm," you said thoughtfully, "Are you going to tell your dad?"

"Got nothing to hide," he winked at you, "I'll tell all of Forks if I have to."

"Jake!" you squealed, though you knew he truly would. Jacob was the showing off type.

"Kidding," he said, poking you in the side, "Unless..."

"Knowing you, you'll probably call the local radio or put up posters," you rolled your eyes at the idea of either of those happening, "Why don't we go cliff diving again tomorrow?"

Jacob's smile tugged even harder at the corner of his lips. "I've got an even better idea. Something you taught me today."

-----------

A/N: honestly I didn't know how to end this oneshot I'm so sorry it's a little meh :/ but I really loved writing Jacob x Reader sm I might turn it into a oneshot series!!!

[kaybreezy3000]

A steaming hot and humorous deli Five story, and An Ode To All The Fives We’ve Loved Before.

Written by: @badkitty3000 and @kaybreezy3000

(Rated Mature for Sexually Explicit Content, 6976 words)

Note: All six reader inserts in this one were inspired by characters we wrote in our other stories about Five. But if you haven't read any of these stories, you can still easily enjoy this one. If you find that you want a little more of Five and any one of these lovelies, links will be provided at the end.

Heading across the subway platform towards the deli, Five heard the shrill squeal of a train coming into the station. Thinking it was going to be another version of himself showing up, he slowed his step, letting out a tired sigh. “Here we go again.”

Even before the train was fully stopped, he realized this wasn’t going to be one of his normally depressing encounters. There were six females inside one of the cars, all of them anxiously looking back at him standing under the warmth of the delicatessen's incandescent lights.

He was dumbstruck. There had never been anyone else besides himself on a train before. 

His breath caught as the doors began to slide open.

“No way…” he gasped, looking at the girl in front who had a baseball bat slung over her shoulders, her body poised for a fight.

“Five!” she shrieked as she pushed the doors open, kicking one of them aside faster with the heel of one of her checkered patterned boots. Dashing towards him, her wooden bat fell to the ground with a resounding thunk as she threw herself into his waiting arms.

Just then, a loud bark echoed through the subway. Bursting out from between the other girls’ legs, a golden-haired dog bee-lined it for the door of the deli, just as another stunned Five threw it open. A fraction of a second later, that Five was stumbling backwards, getting knocked down by the wild beast. “I missed you too, buddy,” he laughed through his tears as his furry friend affectionately slobbered him.

Next to them, pink and blue pigtails swayed as the first Five lifted the girl in his arms, kissing her anywhere he could plant his lips. Loving it, her smile got bigger and bigger the more frantic he got, and she started giggling even more about it when she looked down at the pair on the ground. “I guess it was easy enough for Mr. Pennycrumb to figure out which one of you was his master. Just look at him…he’s so happy he and his daddy finally get to go home.”

“Home?” the deli’s Greeter Five questioned, sounding heartbreakingly confused as the rest of the girls on the train came past, worriedly making their way towards the welcoming lights of the restaurant, all of them hoping their Fives were there too.

Inside, Five was behind the counter, doing his usual inventory of ingredients for his famous pastrami sandwich when he looked up to see the most beautiful sight he’d seen in a very long time. He could hardly believe his eyes and it took him a few seconds to realize she was real. 

Skidding around the corner from the kitchen while trying to hide the tears in his eyes, he grabbed his wife around her waist, reeling her in. With hands on each side of her face, he kissed her so desperately that he forgot to breathe. Finally, he pulled away, smiling lovingly as she started to cry.

“I can’t believe it’s really you. I’ve missed you so much, my love,” he choked out, stroking her cheek with his hand. “What are you doing here? When I ended up here, I thought I’d lost you and our entire world because our timeline was destroyed.”

“I missed you, too,” she breathlessly replied. “Things were a little all over the place with the timeline problem thing, but it’s okay now. We’re here to bring you home. I didn’t know there was an entire restaurant filled with you when I set out, but the girls and I ended up on the train together and it quickly became clear we were all in the same boat, and all of you were too. As crazy as all that is, when we realized where you all ended up, it was still a little surprising to say the least.”

“How did you even find this place? The odds of coming across it are astronomical.”

His wife rolled her eyes. “Really, Five? There’s like twenty of you here and not one of you can read a goddamn map? Together, the girls and I figured it out in about fifteen minutes.”

“Oh…” Five muttered.

She smiled and kissed his pouty face, pushing his dark hair off his forehead. “Well, it’s a good thing for you, and all these other boys, that before you got stuck here, you stole the hearts of the smartest, most badass women around because we’re here to save all your asses.” She looked around at all the Fives that looked like they were either about to have a breakdown or were in the middle of one. “And just in the knick of time, it seems,” she added.

While being devoured by the Five that had been previously pouring coffee, his girlfriend stopped him mid-kiss to say, “Hold on… you guys are stuck here because you don’t know how to read a map?” 

“We know how to read maps,” her Five scoffed back. “We just don’t know how to read this particular map.”

With his head down as he rounded the corner from the kitchen, another Five came in carrying a bin of clean dishes. Irritated that nobody was helping him he said, “You don’t know your ass from a hole in the ground, Waiter Five, and hey Brisket, you may be a worthless genius like the rest of us, but you’re letting the sandwiches burn!”

“I don’t give a fuck about the sandwiches, you moron,” Brisket Five snapped back. 

Brisket’s wife quirked a brow. “Brisket?” she questioned, letting his strange nickname roll off her tongue with seductive playfulness, only then just realizing her husband was wearing a chef’s apron.

“Are you surprised? You know I’m the king of the kitchen,” he said, giving her a cocky smirk. 

Hearing the allure of the feminine voice questioning Brisket Five, the distracted bus-boy finally looked up, his eyes as wide as saucers.

“HOLY SHIT!” he gasped as the tub of plates in his hands hit the floor. Moving almost as fast as if he’d blinked, he leapt over the booth between him and the luminously pale girl that was grinning at him with two shiny tips of sharp white studding into her lower lip.

“Hey there, you little horny devil,” the cheeky looking vampire girl snickered as he slid up to her, his boyish mess of dark hair all over the place as his entire body shook like a leaf with excitement. “Five, sweetie, there’s so many of you here…” 

Looking over at the lonely looking Five in the corner booth with his mannequin, the vampire’s fang descended a little more.

“Awww,” she cooed as she looked back at her own Five. “He’s so cute. He’s just like you were. Can I maybe have a little nibble on him, honey?”

“Hell no. I am the only abomination you get to suck on,” Bus-Boy Five dreamily replied, his soft green eyes luring her right back.

Interrupting their reunions, and their conversation about the map, the bathroom door flung open, and another Five carrying a mop came out, immediately directing his shock at the girl the Waiter Five was once again doing his best to suffocate with kisses. “Hey!” he yelled. “Are you that chick who used to fuck Klaus? 

Tossing his mop in the supply closet, the Janitor Five moved in closer, plopping his butt down on the tabletop next to a Five who was sitting there, contemplatively shuffling a deck of cards as he watched the bizarre scene unfolding.

At the mention of Klaus, Waiter Five gave his girl one more peck, then a sly grin as he said, “Those guys don’t know the whole story. All they need to know is that the Hargreeves with the best dick won. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

The girl that ironically used to own a coffee house shook her head at her now-waiter boyfriend as she stretched up, planting a big kiss on his lips. “You could say that. Or, more accurately, I won. I’ve been missing a lot of things about you, including your dick,” she teased while pulling him by the belt loops until their hips were flush.

A few feet away, a shapely woman with jet-black hair slid into a booth. The bells on her red headband rung cheerfully as her bottom bounced on the vinyl seat. The familiar sound made the slumped down man that was sitting there lift his head.

“Oh, Five…what did you do?” she soothed as she snuggled up next to him while placing a gentle hand on his cheek.

He looked over, eyeing her up and down with a foggy expression before the light suddenly went on. His face immediately relaxed with relief. “Oh my god…it’s you! How are you here? Fuck. Did I die and go to heaven?”

She shook her head, the same chipper smile on her face, just like always. Leaning in to give him a tender kiss, Drunk Five’s angelic girlfriend placed a warm hand on his thigh. “I will explain all of that later. Right now I think we need to get you sobered up.”

Her Five nodded slowly, his eyes becoming misty. “I’m sorry, I went a little crazy with the booze again,” he admitted, gesturing to the bottle on the table. “I’ve been a mess since I lost you.” His gaze drifted downward to her low-cut top and the perfect tits that were spilling out. “Damn, I missed you.”

Leaning in, his lips tickling the shell of his girlfriend’s ear, Waiter Five whispered, “I’m not sure how fucked-up Drunk Five got a nice girl like that.”

Looping her arms around his waist she smiled. “Because she’s an actual angel,” she replied. “Like from heaven. They had a real life Christmas Carol situation and that’s what helped him finally get his shit together.”

“Huh,” Waiter Five hummed before he started kissing her again, already not caring about the other alcoholic version of him’s issues.

As Greeter Five came inside, joining the group, one of the Fives nearest the door swooped in, taking the hand of the girl next to him, gently kissing it.

Instantly overwhelmed by the unexpected gesture, as well as the sight of all the other Fives, she turned to her Five, mouth agape. “Wow… I thought you had some kinky things going on inside your brain, but compared to you…” She started to crack-up. “He was just thinking about eating pastrami off my ass!”  

Looking beyond flustered by her calling him out, the other Five quickly backed away, stammering, “Wh-what is she, a mind reader?”

Positioning himself in front of her, Greeter Five’s already menacing expression turned even more threatening. “Yeah, dumbass, she is and she can alter your emotions, so I’d watch out if I were you or you might find yourself falling in love with a jar of sauerkraut. And you won't be eating pastrami or anything else off her ass as long as I’m here, so fuck off unless you’d like an acid burned dick and that spatula over there shoved up your ass.”

“You know that’s not how my powers work,” the petite blonde corrected as her hands slid around the Greeter Five’s trim waist. Clearly already aware of that, and enjoying her magical touch way too much, his grin grew and he started to lower his mouth to hers again.

Seeing that he was out of his element, and not about to win this one, the food fetish Five bolted out the door, prompting Janitor Five to stroll over, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. “Since you are the biggest nut job in here, it makes sense you’d be dating a sexy Harley Quinn look alike,” he said, distracting the couple.

“I mean no offense, sweetheart,” Janitor Five continued while suggestively wiggling his eyebrows at Greeter Five’s girl. 

She smiled.

“I think you’re hot,” he added as his cool green eyes sparkled triumphantly. “Just so you know, I am way less of a headcase than him, and I am not at all scared of letting you play around inside my head, or my pants.”

“Fuck you!” Greeter Five growled.“Keep your grimy toilet cleaning hands off of her, shithead! She’s my wife!”

“Woah, settle down there, ‘Mr. I started The Commission But Got Downgraded To The Doorman At A Deli.’ I am just trying to point out that I am a much lesser dipshit than you, and let the lady here know that you are not her only option when it comes to better Fives.”

“For fucks sake! We all know that I am the best Five in here!” Greeter Five loudly yelled back, as he lunged at him.

Catching her husband by the coat tails, the comic book character look alike’s fingers brushed against his lower back. The fight almost instantly forgotten, Greeter Five turned and lowered his forehead to hers, and within seconds, she had his mind and body coming back down to a much less murderous state of arousal, but it was already too late. That arrogant outburst started all the other Fives bickering and glaring at each other, sizing each other up even though they were all the exact same size.

No longer involved in the hostilities because he was caught in his wife’s euphoric spell, Greeter Five scooped her up, pinning her against the window next to the entryway.

“I wish I could kill all these pathetic bastards,” he breathed as he nuzzled his face against the crook of her neck.

“No you don’t. You’re a good man, Five,” she corrected.

Happily mind fucked and once again paying no attention to anything else other than the piece of ass he had in his hands, Greeter Five crushed his lips against his wife’s, inadvertently sliding her back along the window glass until they rammed into another three-peice suit wearing Five that had been standing near the door since his girlfriend had come in and claimed him. 

That Five had been basking in the pleasure of having his shaggy hair played with while the woman in front of him teased her hands down the front of his pants. Not happy with the Greeter Five for interrupting them, he angrily moved away from him, barking, “Get a room, asshole!” 

Greeter Five snickered. “Why?” he questioned through the fringe of his hair as he grinned at the other Five. “I don’t care if you fuckers watch.” 

Ready to own that, he shamelessly started rutting the prominent bulge in his pants into his giggling telepath.

Seeing and hearing all this madness, Brisket Five’s wife started to get a wild gleam in her eye as a million kinky thoughts about the vast number of identical, sexy men in the room filled her with naughty ideas.

Not nearly as fazed by all the bullshit happening around him, Brisket Five took her chin in his hand, guiding her face back to his until she was looking up at his piercing green eyes that could read her like an open book. With a subtle shake of his head, he raised an eyebrow. “I don’t fucking think so, darling,” he said, his voice low with warning.

She batted her lashes at him innocently. “What are you going to do about it, Daddy?”

At the mention of his dirty, yet fitting nickname, the other women perked up, dodging their own Five’s kisses and disappointed faces as they shared amused glances with one another.

Still getting publicly dry humped, only now over on the table edge in front of a Five that was still trying to sit there and do his crossword, Greeter Five’s girl chirped, “That’s amazing!  So it’s not just my Five that likes the daddy thing!”

None of the Fives needed to say it. Their intense glares directed at each other said it loud and clear for all of them.

I’M THE ONLY DADDY HERE! 

“That’s it. We’re going to settle who is the ruler of this deli once and for all!” Greeter announced, right before sliding his girl’s booty shorts towards him so he could push her backside down on the table.

“Sounds like you want to put your money where your mouth is,” taunted Cards Five as he continued to nonchalantly shuffle through his deck.

“Fuck yeah, I am,” the Greeter confirmed, ripping the red and blue shorts down his woman’s legs as he licked his lips and lowered like he was about to dive face first into her pussy-which he was.

“Oh, you are on! Get ready to lose, assholes,” yelled Waiter Five as he picked his girl up with her legs wrapping around his waist.

As there were more grumbles and boastful claims coming from the Fives, the girls glanced around at the roomful of horny, angry men they had on their hands. Brisket Five’s and Greeter Five’s wives took one look at each other and knew exactly what the other was thinking. 

“Alright, ladies,” Brisket’s wife called out. “We can’t bring these horny old bastards home in the state they’re in. I think we should let them have their fun with us and then we can get out of here safely. Sound good?”

The women all nodded in agreement and just as fast they started to get pawed at even more aggressively.

Having witnessed all of this, the most aloof looking Five who had been sitting in the corner booth, lifted his glass, clinking it with the one sitting in front of his beloved mannequin. “I’m sorry, darling, you might want to shut your eyes.” 

Openingly admiring the butt of the girl with the other Five that had been over by the door, Janitor Five asked, “How’d you get so lucky to hit an ass like that?”

Smirking, the Five in question leaned up against the wall next to the jukebox while pulling his lady away from the Janitor. “It’s a long story but it started when I became a pervert that was obsessed with spying on her while I jerked off. Then there was an accidental parking lot abduction incident, and after that, it just sort of happened.”

“You mean, first you tied me up, then I tied you up and set you straight,” she corrected, tugging his tie, which earned her a quiet whimper.

“Oh, so you're into perverted creeps?” Janitor Five said, trying to get a rise out of her Five but he got nothing out of either of them other than more of her hands going down her perverted boyfriend’s pants.

Seeing again that he was going to be left high and dry, the Janitor Five moved on, selecting a perfect song from the jukebox next to them for the fuck-fest that was about to commence. He then turned to Drunk Five who was still in his booth and sneered. “You might as well count yourself out, dickhead. You won't even be able to get it up.”

With an indignant snort, Drunk Five pulled his cheery angel onto his lap, running his hands up and down her bare thighs as she ground down on his rapidly hardening crotch.

“What do you think, honey?” he rasped. “Is he right?”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem, actually,” she laughed, leaning in for a deep kiss.

Cards Five, not at all interested in the sex part of all this, saw his opportunity elsewhere. He turned to the Janitor Five giving him a slanted smile.

“We’re going to make a killing,” he said before hopping up on one of the unoccupied tables with the deli already becoming rowdier from all the couples in various compromising positions and locations around him.

“Listen up, shit heads! Here’s the rules!” Cards Five called out. “The Five who can get their lady off the most times in five minutes wins and will be declared the official BEST FIVE! And…no helping your guys by touching yourselves ladies, or you’re out.”

“Awww,” Janitor Five huffed.

Ignoring his disappointment, Cards Five gestured for him to start collecting the bets, then he pulled his sleeve up and set his stopwatch. 

Holding his arm out to show the other Fives, he received the desired nods of approval from all.

Not needing any more encouragement to begin, as soon as Cards Five yelled out ‘go’, every Five who had the option started getting to work, determined to win his very important title. 

Amid a flurry of coat jackets being hurriedly shrugged off and ties being thrown through the air, their perfect song selection cued up. 

As the first few staccato notes of “Eye of the Tiger” filled the room, there was a chorus of enthusiastic cheers from the over-sexed men. 

The competition had officially begun.

With his vampire girlfriend at his side, Bus-Boy Five took off with her towards the bathroom, entering the small tiled room on the heels of the Pervert Five and his pretty dominator. Shoving him into the wall, the small but assertive female directed her man to drop his pants. Already looking so excited that he might explode, he didn’t argue. His pants fell around his ankles, the metal of his belt clanking against the floor as she yanked his underwear down, letting his length spring free.

With her shirt getting ripped open and the tiny pearl buttons tinkering across the counter, the vampire sank her fangs into her Five, moaning as he hungrily nipped his teeth across her porcelain neck.

Catching the door before it swung closed on them, Janitor Five propped it open, yelling, “There’s no room for modesty here, boys! You better give us a good show in there!” 

Over in their booth, doing just that, Drunk Five was already getting the full religious experience with his personal angel.

Straddling his lap, she quickly unbuckled his pants and shoved her hand inside, grabbing hold of his hardened cock. “Even though you fell off the wagon, you know I’ll always let you plow my field,” the angel quipped with a smile.

He pulled her in for a rough kiss, a hand on the back of her neck as she pumped her fist. “Enough of your bad jokes, sweetheart, right now I need you to ride my dick,” he murmured before groaning loudly, “Let’s show these assholes what we can do.”

“You got it, baby,” she purred next to his ear as she pushed her panties aside and sunk herself onto his waiting dick. 

With her tits bouncing in front of his face, and her hot sleeve moving fast over his cock, Drunk Five was in a Heaven made just for him. Clutching his shoulders, the angel threw her head back as his heels dug into the floor and he pounded up into her, her broken cries proving he was still a contender.

Simultaneously, on the other side of the deli, Brisket Five was not-so-gently squeezing his wife’s tight, round ass as he aggressively sucked at her neck.

“Five,” she breathed out desperately as she clawed at the back of his shirt after having flung his chef’s apron on the floor. She took a quick peek over his shoulder, scouting the room. “I think we’re out of fuckable places.”

Pulling back with a mischievous grin that always lit a fire in his wife’s pants, Five shook his head. “Not necessarily.”

She let out a short laugh as she worked as fast as she could to get his shirt unbuttoned and pushed off his arms. Running her hands down his firm, bare chest she looked up at him. “You’re going to fuck me in a closet, aren’t you?” 

As Brisket Five quickly hurried his wife along to his secret sex spot, Waiter Five brushed past, heading in the same direction. 

“I’m calling the kitchen, dipshit, so don’t even bother,” he snarled at Brisket Five. 

When he didn’t get the expected spiteful reply in response, Waiter Five stopped and turned. The chef version of himself was not actually trying to bone his woman in the kitchen. Instead, he was continuing in the direction of the supply closet.

“Where the fuck are you going? Scared your girl might see what she’s missing out on?” Waiter jeered, even as his girlfriend was pulling her legs tighter around his waist, rubbing against his hard crotch. His hands gripped her ass harder as he pushed her against the doorway of the kitchen, jerking his hips against her until she let out a beautifully needy moan.

“Think again, dumbshit,” Brisket barked back before unceremoniously shoving his wife into the closet and slamming the door behind him. 

“That guy is a total whack-job,” Waiter Five said to his girl before continuing inside, perching her on the food-prep counter. 

“How about you focus less on him and more on fucking me,” she suggested, snaking her hand down the front of his pants as she rubbed the large package that was tenting there.

With a quiet grunt, he let his eyes fall shut, his expression one of total bliss as he grinned back at her. “Good idea.” 

As she hastily began opening his fly, Five worked on yanking her pants down. Knowing his dirty-minded coffee girl inside and out, he shoved his hand between her legs, letting his long fingers work their magic.

“Daddy knows what you like, doesn’t he, sweetheart?” he seductively taunted.

At the first “Ffff-uuu…yesss” that she whimpered, he knew he had her right where he wanted, and he continued to finger her while she rocked her hips into his hand and pulled at the front of his shirt.

In the closet, Brisket’s wife was pushed roughly against a wall as he flattened her body, attacking her with bruising kisses. With his hands gripping her wrists, he shoved her arms over her head, pinning them to the wall as Janitor Five’s mop went clattering to the floor.

“Panties off. Now!” Five ordered in a harsh but quiet tone, knowing for a fact that this was a sure fire way to get her dripping wet.

Freeing her wrists, she did exactly what he said, dropping her shorts and underwear and kicking them off somewhere in the dim light of the closet. With the sound of his wife’s harsh breathing riling him up even more, Five anxiously unbuckled his pants and dropped them to the floor.

Lifting one of her legs, holding it up against his hip, he pressed his rock-hard cock between her legs, not entering her as his shaft rubbed against her wet slit.

As he continued to rut into her, faster and harder but not actually fucking her, he felt the satisfying shudder of her body against his. “That’s one, but I think we can do better than that, don’t you think, angel?” he teased.

Also about to witness a second orgasm, sitting over at his booth with Greeter Five licking and lapping his wife’s clit as his fingers squelched in and out of her quivering cunt, Crossword Five lowered a hand under the table, discreetly palming the tightly stretched fabric covering his crotch.

With his fingers thrusting and wife gasping, her body bucking on the table in front of them, Greeter Five looked up, his face proudly shining as he glanced at their booth buddy. “Might as well whip it out and go for it, you dirty bastard. She likes to watch.”

At the sound and sight of Crossword Five’s fly zipping down, the woman on the table between the two shameless men cried out, “Oh, Fivvvvve. Fucck, yes! I love you!”

“That’s right, say it louder, beautiful. Let these assholes get a taste of what they are missing!” her husband growled, right before grinding his face between her legs again.

In the corner booth, not at all impressed, the Five sitting with Dolores picked up his empty margarita, eyeing it like it had personally offended him. “I’m not like that, am I?” he questioned, to which the mannequin next to him held her Mona Lisa smile, but only until he looked over and cutely smirked. “Oh. You’re right. I am like that,” Five chuckled, clearly stewed.

In the bathroom two minutes earlier, the Pervert Five’s head fell back with a bang against the wall the moment his girlfriend’s lips began to circle around the dripping tip of his waiting erection.

A few feet away, flipping around his vampire, Bus-Boy Five was about to do some sucking of a totally different kind as he lined himself up to the smooth white ass waiting for him to destroy it. Fisting the length of the vamp’s hair as the tip of his cock prodded the coolness of her slippery folds, his words came out ominously dark. “You’re all I’ll ever want. This time I want forever.” 

“Then take it,” his vampire moaned as Five’s lips began to move along the exposed side of her milky throat. Looking like a man whose soul needed saving, using a hand to guide the thickened head of his cock where he needed it, penetrating all her senses at once, his blunted teeth slowly began to sink in.

A guttural moan reverberated from Five’s chest as his mouth filled with the salvation of her bittersweet taste.

Mouth agape, her fingers clenching the edge of the countertop as Five’s tongue moved over her broken skin, the vampire’s body, shaking with lust, jerked back, forcing him to bottom out.

“So-so fucking tight,” he deliriously groaned, just before thrusting his dick inside her again with much more supernatural vigor. 

Looking up as he fucked, his chocolate locks hanging in his eyes and his lip still bleeding from one of her love bites, Five grinned at his reflection in the mirror, the wicked gleam in his eyes matching the sinful glow in hers lovinginly looking back at him.

Not to be out done by the debauchery happening next to them, the other Five helplessly gasped a string of profanities as he clenched his hand on the back of his girlfriend’s head so he could better slam his dick down her throat.  

Interrupting the gagging and sniffling, whines and animalistic grunts and growls streaming out of the bathroom, pointing at the violent blow job in progress, Janitor Five barked out, “Disqualified! You’re supposed to be getting her off, not the other way around, you selfish dumbass!”

Coming fully undone, unloading in her mouth with his hips twitching even more spastically with each new wave of ecstasy, dumbass Five hissed and moaned, “Fuuu-aaaahh- This feels so ff- Mmfff- I don’t fff-ucking care.”

As Waiter Five’s girlfriend was coming down from her finger-fuck climax in the kitchen, he was already preparing for the next round. Stroking his leaking cock, he positioned his swollen tip at her soaking wet opening. As he slammed into her, her head fell back, knocking against the metal pots and pans that were hanging behind them. Each clatter of metal was accompanied by a loud moan as Waiter Five used all of his strength to give his girl the fuck of her life.

Alerted by all the noise, Janitor Five poked his head through the kitchen’s service window. “Hey, you better not drip any jizz on that floor, I just mopped it.”

Not slowing down for even a second while he continued to rail his girl as hard as possible, Waiter Five glanced over his shoulder at the dickhead in the doorway. “Says the guy that cums in the coleslaw.”

Smiling and mouthing ‘True’ to the girl being nailed where their food was prepared, Janitor Five witnessed a second Waiter-delivered orgasm. It was followed a few seconds later by a loud groan and some cursing as his counterpart came hard inside of her, the clanging of the pots and pans slowly quieting as his body stilled.

Back in the closet, Brisket Five’s wife clung to the rattling supply shelves as his hips slapped against her ass and his dick slammed inside her from behind. Sweating and out of breath, expertly maneuvering his fingers on her clit, she started coming hard.

“Fuck, Fiiive!!” she screamed as she bucked her ass backward and rolls of toilet paper rained down on them.

“That’s two,” he panted heavily as she tried to regain her composure enough to stand on her wobbly legs. “One more, darling?”

Grinning widely, pulling her flush with his chest, his cock still-hard, his wife nodded and smiled knowingly; just another confirmation that the two were meant for each other.

As he went in for a kiss, a hand tangled in her hair, she stumbled forward, causing Five to stagger backward into the door. The two came flying out of the supply closet with a giant crash as they fell into a mostly-naked heap onto the floor. 

There was a very brief pause as everyone else in the deli looked in their direction, but they were quickly ignored as the other Fives got back down to business.

“One minute left, boys…let’s wrap it up!” yelled Cards Five.

Determined not to lose, Brisket Five pushed his wife onto her back and crawled on top, not giving a shit that they were laid out for the entire deli to see. Thrusting his cock back into her still-wet cunt, Five let out a long groan. Going at it hard as he held himself up on his forearms, he rammed into her at just the right angle. From there, his wife’s third orgasm came quickly, allowing him to fill her up with an impressive stream of cum. 

Standing near the kitchen service window, Janitor Five slammed his palm down onto the order-up bell to signal the latest win. “Another one for Brisket!” he yelled. “That’s three!”

As Brisket Five and his wife laid on their backs, chests heaving, he grabbed a nearby discarded suit coat and threw it over her bottom half. With satisfied smiles, they lazily high-fived one another on a job well done.

Realizing he needed to do something fast, Greeter Five worked his hips overtime as his wife’s legs draped around the narrow of his waistcoat. 

“Come on, come on, come on!” Janitor Five chanted along with him as he dangled over the booth, watching their Greeter going at it, his dick working like a piston engine.

In a frenzy, beating his meat hard, Crossword Five let out a broken moan. 

Only taking his eyes off his prize long enough to see that Cards Five was counting down the final seconds on his fingers, Greeter Five frantically gasped, “Touch him, NOW!” 

As the telepath’s hand fell into Crossword Five’s free hand, his face pinched in ecstasy and spatters of cum flung from his rapidly pumping fist, landing all over the tabletop.

To the backdrop of Janitor Five loudly singing, ‘Rising up to the challenge of our rivals,’ Greeter Five’s wife’s eyes began to roll back in her head and her body began to tighten and turn to mush all over again.

Looking like a madman, Greeter Five kept at it, thrusting his throbbing cock in and out of her trembling hole as he filled her with load after load of pent up seed.  

“Yes! We got this in the bag!” Janitor Five exclaimed, obnoxiously clapping his hands together over the awe inspiring spectacle of the three exhibitionists simultaneously climaxing.

Turning back and forth between the two Fives who appeared to be at a tie, Cards Five held up his watch for his betting buddies to see. “It’s…TIME!” he shouted. 

Either not hearing that it was over, or simply not caring, Bus-Boy Five and his vampire girlfriend burst out of the bathroom with him carrying her like she was his front backpack. Unnaturally floating past everyone, he kept at it, impaling her, his phantomlike showmanship making it abundantly clear he wasn’t going to stop and he didn’t give a damn who won the fuck competition.

Just then, the bell on the door chimed as Old Five walked in wearing his dapper gray suit and hat. “Jesus Christ! What the hell is going on in here!” he gasped in horror as the undead couple disappeared through the doorway behind him.

Kissing his wife languidly as his softening dick wetly slipped out of her, Greeter Five began to laugh. “Busted, beautiful. I saw that,” he said, taunting her as she dizzily eyed-up the older gentleman. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned, still treasuring her with gentle brushes of his lips against her flushed cheeks.

“What?” she said as she grinned and pulled his pants around him, re-fastening his belt. “You give an amazing mustache ride. You can’t blame a girl for wanting to feel the tickle of your sexy old man whiskers for old time’s sake.”

The line between Greeter Five’s brows deepened with distaste as Old Five looked his half naked wife up and down, his mostly whitened brows going all the way to his hairline because he was so floored by what she just said.

Chuckling at Greeter Five’s sour expression, Janitor Five started to clear some of the scattered dishes on their table since their bus-boy was currently preoccupied doing vampire things. “Are you going to spank her for saying that, or do you want me to since you look a little spent?” he conversationally offered.

“No thank you. I’ll take care of it later,” Greeter Five politely chuckled as his wife pinched his butt.

As the rest of the Fives and their girls were still lounging around in various states of droopy eyed post coital bliss, twirling his wife’s panties on his index finger, Greeter Five smiled smugly. “As I said before all of this, I am, and always was, the winner here.”

Not having that, Brisket Five, helping his wife up off the floor, chimed in, “No. It’s a tie. Everyone heard my girl screaming for me at least three times. Twice in the closet and the last just now.”

Tensions rising again, arguing about how to divide the money, the betting Five’s started in on each other.

“Well, this has been interesting,” Old Five grumbled from where he was sitting in one of the back booths, his hat resting next to him as he sipped his coffee. “I can’t believe what a moron I used to be.” 

Before picking up his book, the old man’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he gave Greeter Five’s wife a flirty wink. Getting one back, he reached over, dropping a quarter in the jukebox.

Missing the enamored look on his wife’s face this time since his focus was on his nemesis, Greeter Five said, “Whatever. See you later, loser.”

Brisket Five’s smarmy grin deepened. “You only hit three because you are a cheater, shit head.”

About to say something else ridiculous to the other him, a finger pressed against Greeter Five’s lips, shushing him. Her mind willing him to shut his trap, the seemingly harmless blonde began softly singing along with the jukebox and his eyes instantly glossed over.

 Let ‘em say we're crazy, I don’t care about that…Put your hand in my hand baby, don’t ever look back…

“What a pussy,” Brisket Five laughed at the other him’s inability to see that he’d been silenced. 

Sighing, his wife’s head moved back and forth in reprimand.

“What?” he questioned, as if he didn't already know.

Grinning like an idiot as the song that had so much meaning to him played, Greeter Five, having forgotten what he was going on about, allowed his clever wife to tow him towards the door like a puppy on a leash. Following their lead, the Five who still owed his girlfriend for her world-class BJ, and a much more sober Five and his angel, happily made their way out with Waiter Five and his coffee girl not far behind. Brisket and his wife brought up the rear, his arm draped over her shoulder.

As all of the couples made their way out of the deli, every one of the Fives was looking forward to finally getting back to the places where they had first learned what it meant to be truly loved. 

Seeing that their only reliable cook was now leaving them, Janitor Five threw his hands in the air as he yelled out, “Hey, Brisket, what the fuck are we supposed to eat now?”

Turning around and seeing his signature apron lying on the floor, Brisket Five scooped it up. With a crooked grin, he flipped his hair out of his eyes and tossed it at the deli’s biggest asshole. “Why not try eating a dick?”

After the doors of the train closed, and the more fortunate Fives were on their way, Janitor looked over at Cards Five and shrugged as if considering that.

Turning to go back inside as he laughed, then began belting out, “AND…WE can build this dream TOGETHER, standing strong forever, NOTHINGS GONNA STOP US NOW! AND if this-”

As they heard the sound of another train coming into the station, he stopped. 

With that unexpected surprise, not long later, all of the remaining Fives finally found their happiness, too.

Thank you all for reading this, and for all your support through our many, many crazy Five stories. ❤️

To read Kitty's origin stories for Brisket Five, Waiter Five, and Drunk Five either visit this master list or hit the A03 links below.

(Brisket) Halo Series

(Waiter Five) 'Love In The Time of Cholera and Coffee

(Drunk Five) It's a Wonderful Life, Five Hargreeves

To read Breezy's origin stories for Greeter Five, Vampy Five, and Pervert Five either hit my master list or the A03 links below:

(Greeter Five) Paramore (The Umbrella Academy) 3-part series

(Vampy Five) 'The Devil Within'

(Pervert Five) 'Bad Things'

[factual-fantasy]

27 Asks! Thank you!! :}}🍬

@drunkardbagels

@stupid-thatsme

Advises to draw move..? I'm sorry, but you're gonna have to be more specific- I'm not sure what you mean <:0

@mindblowingcow

My pinned post states that I've been sick for months and am taking a break from my FNAF AU until further notice. Also I cant reveal anything else in the story-

Whenever anyone talks about the Peso currency, I cant help but immediately picture the little penguin in my head XDD

Update on Bash Buggy, he was donated to a charity of some kind I'm pretty sure <XD He's off to bigger and better things! Other than that I have no memory or developments to his story <:(

XDD I guess it happens to the best of us huh.

Also I hardly remember any of the characters from Slime Rancher.. but I remember liking the player character and her boyfriend/friend(??) from earth :}}

I have my transformers art tagged as "transformers prime" and/or "transformers ocs". You can search for it in my blogs search bar! :0

@gingerbravecookie

Oooo I'll have to look into those cutscenes! :0 Since I don't intend to play the other games <XD

HES A REAL KING TO MEEEEE 😭😭💞💞💞

We both have them googly eyes frfr XDD

(Referencing this video)

I have the video saved to watch later, I haven't gotten around to it yet <XD

@kaiserdarken

Freddy doesn't take Gregory out to trick or treat, and other than some spooky decorations and some special performances.. I cant see the animatronics doing anything else for the spooky season. :0

@pink088 (Images in ask👇👇👇)

THAT WAS YOU ALL ALONG??

:DD Thank you! I'll have to remember to send this out-

(Referencing this post)

Other than Gulp, Gunk and Gorp, the big pink frog in the middle is called the mama frog :))

Also the tiny orange one miiight be named stubby. Since he has a stubby arm. (His arm hole was too narrow to flip him arm right side out so it became a stump💀)

Other than that, I have no other name ideas <XD

@kiki-is-hurt-but-not-anymore

Thank you! Congrats on the 53 followers! :DD

@smol-bean-boi13

XD Thank you so much! :DD And I love the drawing!! :}}

@notmrkillwolf666

I have not :( but perhaps I should look into it! :0

@beryl-shade (Referencing this post)

XD I'd watch your words, Seafoam is a taken man!

(First and second link in question)

Ugh, always a shame to see.. thanks for letting me know <:(

@void-the-bear

ngl, kind'a horrific XDD

@bluescarlet13 (Don't worry, I've kept a duplicate of this ask to potentially draw later! :})

AAAA thank you! :DDD You've been around for quite a bit! And thank you for all the kind words, I really appreciate it!! :}}}

(Don't worry, I've kept a duplicate of this ask to potentially draw later! :})

I don't eat Tacos or Burgers anymore.. but my favorite of the two would be Tacos :) specifically the ones with the cheesy dorito shells!

(Don't worry, I've kept a duplicate of this ask to potentially draw later! :})

Thank you, <:) tbh a lot of the people who made me uncomfortable in the Octonauts fandom where probably kids who wouldn't listen to me/respect my boundaries. Which I mean hey, kids will be kids. But that doesn't make it anymore ok or make me want to rejoin the fandom-

@coinezalot (Don't worry, I've kept a duplicate of this ask to potentially draw later! :})

Currently I've been working on my CookieRun: Kingdom OCS and trying to write lore for them.. I've also been thinking about my Kirby OCs and these other Original OCs of mine :0

In this post and this post you can see my two original OCs I've been working on. Snakes and the unnamed kid. They are two characters that I've been thinking about making my own webcomic about, but their story got kiiinda complicated.. so I've slowed down in developing their story. <:/

Other than making more CRK OCs and more Kirby OCs, I'm not planning much! :0

[ourflagmeansgayrights]

so part of me wants to blame this entirely on wbd, right? bloys said he was cool with the show getting shopped around, so assuming he was telling the truth (not that im abt to start blindly trusting anything a CEO says lol), that means it’s not an hbo problem. and we already know wbd has an awful track record with refusing to sell their properties—altho unlike coyote v acme, s3 of ofmd isn’t a completed work and therefore there isn’t the same tax writeoff incentive to bury the thing. i just can’t see any reason to hold on to ofmd except for worrying about image, bc it would be embarrassing if they let this show go with such a devoted fanbase and recognizable celebrities and it went somewhere else and did really well (which it would undoubtedly do really well, we’ve long since proven that). it feels kinda tinfoil hat of me to making assumptions abt what’s going on in wbd behind the scenes, but i also feel like there are hints that i’m onto something w my suspicions: suddenly cracking down on fan merch on etsy doesn’t seem like something a studio looking to sell their property would bother with, and we know someone was paying to track the viewing stats on ofmd’s bbc airing, which isn’t finished yet, so i’d expect whoever is monitoring that to not make a decision abt buying ofmd until the s2 finale dropped.

but also i think part of me just wants there to be a clear villain in the situation. it’s kinda comforting to have a face to blame, a clear target to shake my fist at. but the truth is that the entire streaming industry is in the shitter. streaming is not pulling in the kind of profit that investors were promised, and we’re seeing the bubble that was propped up w investor money finally start to pop. studios aren’t leaving much room in their budgets for acquiring new properties, and they’re whittling down what they already have. especially w the strikes last year, they’re all penny pinching like hell. and that’s much a much harder thing to rage against than just one studio or one CEO being shitty. that’s disheartening in a way that’s much bigger and more frightening than if there was just one guy to blame.

my guess is that the truth of the situation is probably somewhere in the middle. wbd is following the same shitty pattern they’ve been following since the merger, and it’s just a hard time for anyone trying to get their story picked up by any studio. ofmd is just one of many shows that are unlucky enough to exist at this very unstable time for the tv/streaming industry.

when i think abt it that way, tho, i’m struck by how lucky we are that ofmd even got to exist at all. if the wbd merger had happened a year earlier, or if djenks and tw tried to pitch this show a year later, there’s no way this show would’ve been made. s1 was given the runtime and the creative freedom needed to tell the story the way the showrunners wanted to, and the final product benefited from it so much that it became a huge hit from sheer gay word of mouth. and for all the imperfections with s2—the shorter episode order, the hard 30 minute per episode limit, the last-minute script changes, the finale a butchered mess of the intended creative vision—the team behind ofmd managed to tell a beautiful story despite the uphill battle they undoubtedly were up against. they ended the season with the main characters in a happy place. ed and stede are together, and our last shot of ed isn’t of him sobbing uncontrollably (like i rlly can’t stress enough how much i would have never been able to acknowledge the existence of this show again if s1 was all we got)

like. y’all. we were this close to a world where ofmd never got to exist. for me, at least, the pain of an undue cancellation is worth getting to have this story at all. so rather than taking my comfort in the form of righteous anger at david zaslav or at wbd or at the entire streaming industry as a whole, i’m trying to focus on how lucky i am to get to have the show in the first place.

bc really, even as i’m reeling in grief to know this is the end of the road for ofmd, a part of me still can’t quite wrap my head around that this show is real. a queer romcom about middle-aged men, a rejection of washboard abs and facetuned beauty standards, a masterful deconstruction and criticism of toxic masculinity, well-written female characters who get to shine despite being in a show that is primarily about manhood and masculinity, diverse characters whose stories never center around oppression and bigotry, a casually nonbinary character, violent revenge fantasies against oppressors that are cathartic but at the same time are not what brings the characters healing and joy, a queer found family, a strong theme of anti colonialism throughout the entire show. a diverse writers room that got to use their perspectives and experiences to inform the story. the fact that above all else, this show is about the love story between ed and stede, which means the character arcs, the thoughts, the feelings, the motivations, the backstories, and everything else that make up the characters of ed and stede are given the most focus and the most care.

bc there rlly aren’t a lot of shows where a character like stede—a flamboyant and overtly gay middle-aged man who abandoned his family to live his life authentically—gets to be the main character of a romcom, gets to be the hero who the show is rooting for.

and god, there definitely aren’t a lot of shows where a character like ed—a queer indigenous man who is famous, successful, hyper-competent, who feels trapped by rigid standards of toxic hypermasculinity, who yearns for softness and gentleness and genuine interpersonal connection and vulnerability, whose mental health struggles and suicidal intentions are given such a huge degree of attention and delicate care in their depiction, who messes up and hurts people when he’s in pain but who the show is still endlessly sympathetic towards—gets to exist at all, much less as the romantic lead and the second protagonist of the show.

so fuck the studios, fuck capitalism, fuck everything that brought the show to an end before the story was told all the way through. because the forces that are keeping s3 from being made are the same forces that would’ve seen the entire show canceled before it even began. s3 is canceled, and s2 suffered from studio meddling, but we still won. we got to have this show. we got to have these characters. there’s been so much working against this show from the very beginning but here we are, two years later, lives changed bc despite all odds, ofmd exists. they can’t take that away from us. they can’t make us stop talking abt or stop caring abt this show. i’m gonna be a fan of this show til the day i die, and the studios hate that. they hate that we care about things that don’t fit into their business strategy, they hate that not everyone will blindly consume endless IP reboots and spin-offs and cheap reality tv.

anyway i dont rlly have a neat way to end this post. sorta just rambling abt my feelings. idk, i know this sucks but im not rlly feeling like wallowing in it. i think my gratitude for the show is outweighing my grief and anger, at least for right now. most important thing tho is im not going anywhere. and my love for this show is certainly not fucking going anywhere.

[faulty-writes]

Alright, alright, I have this little crossover idea of sorts!

Trigun is an anime in the world of MHA, and reader is crushing on Vash the Stampede. Reader has the manga, the anime on Blu-ray, figures, a plush...

How would Izuku, Bakugou, and Mirio react to their crush having a thing for Vash, who is fictional? Would they possibly get jealous, wondering what it is about him they like so much? :3

[ I love this cross-over idea. Fuck yeah! You know, it's funny. I wrote a few headcanons between the BNHA boys and them having a plushie a long time ago. I think the reader being obsessed with a fictional character, Vash in this case, is awesome and quite relatable. I honestly have to say I'm in love with Vash from the 1998 animated series, he is just so cool and I'm also currently reading the manga which is just mind-blowing. ]

His words were stolen from him when he entered your room to see endless amounts of manga, plushies, and even figurines of Vash the Stampede. Although given his collection of All Might merchandise, he knew he couldn't judge. But he also couldn't stop himself from feeling the tiniest bit jealous.

"W-what is it about t-that guy that makes them a-admire him…so much?" He asked after successfully convincing you to allow him to borrow the Blu-ray Trigun Stampede series collection you had. He didn't understand why you liked the characteristics Vash displayed but nonetheless jotted them down in his notebook as he watched.

Unfortunately, the attempts to display the same characteristics he saw to capture your attention were unsuccessful, and honestly, he felt a little pathetic about trying to be someone he wasn't. Plus, the look on your face made him feel like a bigger idiot than he was.

"I d-don't know what I was thinking…" he whined, pressing his head against his desk. "Will they…l-like me like they do V-Vash?" It was pitiful to think he was jealous of a fictional character.

"Perhaps you are approaching the problem incorrectly," Tenya suggested. "While the feeling of affection can extend to…fictional aspects, I'm certain that Y/n is aware of reality and will look at you the way you desire as long as you remain yourself." He wasn't sure how much faith he put in Tenya's words but knew he was right. Comparing himself to Vash wasn't going to get him anywhere.

Accepting something was the hardest thing but given that he was once the quirkless boy who dreamed of being a hero, he would face this issue the same way. He could accept it but not for long. He'd prove he was better than Vash The Stampede and then maybe…just maybe you'd see him as your hero.

"Tch, reading a lame manga, huh!? How stupid!" He remembers those words from his middle school years, and how you would always huddle in the corner with a stupid smile as you read 'Trigun Maximum.' The thing that years later became your obsession.

"What the hell is all this shit!?" He demanded. "This is worse than that damn Deku's room!" You had shelves filled with manga, and Blu-rays, not to mention plushies of the same character scattered around. "You shouldn't be obsessed with fictional dumbasses that swing guns around! I'm the only badass here!" And he'd prove it.

His jaw clenched tighter and tighter whenever he was in class, hearing you go on and on about your love for Vash. How cool and handsome he is, how amazing he is in combat. Damn, he hated it. He would never admit he was jealous, but what made Vash better than him!?

"What do you mean I can't take these!?" he demanded after irrationally barging into your room and stealing your Trigun manga collection. Nevertheless, after a heated argument, he settled for reading it in your room. "What the hell is so damn great about this dumbass?" From what he could gather Vash was nothing but an outlaw with a gun.

He didn't think his jealousy would affect him just like he didn't think his feelings for you would sway him from his dream of becoming a hero. But he found himself being fueled by the hatred of your Vash The Stampede obsession. Because of this, he grew extremely cocky during training exercises. He even went as far as shouting that he was better than some stupid outlaw which you found...odd, to say the least.

It didn't take a genius to realize you were unimpressed by his attempts and criticism of your favorite character. Yet, as usual, he'd be damned if you continued to idolize someone else when he should be the one idolized by you. Whether you liked it or not, he'd be the object of your affection next.

"Heh, wow...you really like this guy." Of course, it was an obvious statement with all the Vash the Stampede plushies, and merchandise that littered your bed and shelves. He picked up one of the plushies, staring into its blue button eyes that reminded him of his own and a strange feeling made his stomach twist. Was he feeling insecure?

"Oh, is that Vash the Stampede?" Nejire asked, pointing to the plushie Mirio held. "Huh, wait you know about him!?" He exclaimed. "Yeah, I-" He grasped her shoulders before she could finish. "What do you like about him!?" He demanded, and although Nejire didn't have a solid answer she settled for Vash's bravery and caring for others.

While Mirio was happy that he shared some favorable characteristics with Vash the Stampede, he still struggled to think of how to get your attention while respecting your love for the fictional character. How could you view him as you did Vash? Of course, he could never tell you who you could and couldn't love, but gosh wouldn't it be amazing if you did love him?

"So, what do you think!?" Mirio demanded with a bright smile. He was dressed in a red trench coat and orange glasses, the key pieces of clothing Vash wore. "You like Vash, right? I sure look like him now, wouldn't you agree sunshine?" To see your eyes light up when you looked at him, even in the silly little cosplay he was wearing, meant the world to him.

He convinced you to hang out with him and took you to a special area resembling the setting where the Trigun show took place. It was part of a beach, with endless sand everywhere. He wanted to impress you while respecting your feelings, and maybe make you have feelings for him. Overall, your reaction was so-so.

Despite his jealousy, and his somewhat successful attempts at trying to sway your attention away from Vash the Stampede and onto him, he wanted you to be happy. "Heh, who knows, maybe I will be their Vash someday!" Until then, he'd just keep smiling.

[pumpkin-bats]

What's Important - Daiki Aomine x Reader

a/n: The poll has spoken! And tbh the results genuinely surprised me. Since Aomine and Akashi tied, I’m gonna do them both! KEEP IN MIND THAT ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP. Thank you. I hope you all enjoy!

summary: He shows up for something important to you that you thought he'd skip.

contains: sfw topics, a bit of personal space invasion, gentle above the neck touching, gender neutral terms for the reader.

wc: 1k+

It wasn't a date or an anniversary, but you'd be lying if you said it didn't feel equally as important.

The thing that set you on the path for your particular set of career goals was a very specific internship. Ever since your third year of college began, you've focused all your energy and efforts towards trying to get said internship. And you had to learn the hard way that it was a high competition, low acceptance, and extremely difficult to qualify for type gig. Yet you made it.

You'd gotten the news earlier that morning as Daiki was getting ready to head out. In your excitement, you'd nearly burned your hand on the stove.

Thanks to your blatant level of enthusiasm, you ended up explaining the situation to your boyfriend before you could accidentally launch an egg at his face trying to silently contain yourself. And with some huffing and puffing, you both settled on plans to celebrate later in the evening.

At the time, you were too blinded by the pure, utter joy that overcame you that you'd forgotten. Now, as you sit on the couch with food spread across the coffee table along with a few other things, you remembered.

The thing is, Daiki isn't the most... timely person. Not to say he didn't treat you well, he did, he just has an issue with showing up to certain events on time, if at all.

The both of you met in your second year of high school. Things started as a tentative friendship, bordering on arch enemies, before it developed into something more around your third year. And over the years you learned a thing or two about his track record in terms of attendance. Namely, how he'd built a bad habit of skipping basketball practice or any other event he deemed unimportant.

As much as you'd like to say it was something you didn't have to worry about anymore, he still had a tendency to miss or skip out on plans the two of you have made. You'll never forget how one time, during the earlier parts of your budding relationship, he bailed on a date for something he refused to specify. That was also the first time you had your first major fight.

All that to say, as the seconds ticked by and it became a good half hour or so past the agreed upon meetup time, you realized this might just be one of those events he deemed unimportant.

You held out hope, but it was a brittle thing. After all, you knew that getting the internship had a bigger effect on you than it did him. Still... you waited a bit longer.

When it was creeping toward a full hour after what you planned for, you slowly stood up and shuffled forward to start putting the food away. It was when you reached for a large bowl of chips, fingertips barely grazing over the rim, that you heard the lock to the front door click before the telltale squeak of it opening.

"Hey, practice ran late so-" You stand there, arm stretched out in midair, staring like a deer caught in the headlights at your boyfriend who'd just stepped into the living room. A towel was slung loosely over the back of his neck and he'd been using one end to scrub at the back of his hair, but paused when his eyes met yours.

"Why do you look so surprised? It's just me." He asked, lowering the towel and raising a brow at your frozen figure.

"You're back," you answered, quite dumbly in fact.

"I live here. And we have the whole-" he gestured vaguely at everything you'd set up and had yet to put away, "Celebration thing for you internship thing."

"Yeah, but... you're actually gonna celebrate it with me." His brows furrowed, a frown creeping onto his face at the baffled way you said it.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Oh, well, no, because I thought- I just-" it took you a second to kick your brain back into gear and unfreeze long enough to spit out a coherent sentence. "I didn't know if you really would. Not to be rude but... you don't have the best track record when it comes to going through with plans."

"What?" His expression soured for a moment, voice dipping low and biting. It lasted for all but a second as he clearly forced himself to relax. 

Daiki stepped into the room, dumping his bag on a nearby chair before moving closer to you. His steps were heavy but they didn't thunder as he approached you. A faint smell of sweat drifted from him and you're suddenly reminded of how, despite his complex with the sport since high school, he continued to play and practice.

"I'm here, aren't I?" In a few strides he stood toe to toe with you, your neck aching from how far back you had to pull your head in order to look up at him. "No way I'd miss something you talked my ear off about all morning."

"That's because it means a lot to me."

"That's why I'm here."

There was a moment where the two of you stared at one another in silence. The deep blue of his eyes glinted under the lamplight, sharp enough to cut. His gaze was intense enough that you needed to fight the urge to take a step back. It felt like electricity snapping and dancing across your skin with the way it prickled under the full weight of his attention.

To help diffuse some of the charged energy in the room, you let a nervous chuckle slip out and poke playfully at his stomach. Though it clearly did nothing when it felt like poking straight concrete.

"I thought you'd say something like 'the only one who can tell me when to do things is me.'" You chuckled weakly at yourself,  pitching your voice a bit lower to mimic his voice. His eye twitched and it's all the warning you get before he moves.

His fingers reached out to glide along your jawline and settled gently on your cheek. Not a caress, but similar enough to it that your breath hitched at the touch. He bent down to be as level with you as his monstrous height allowed him to be. 

There was no escaping the oceanic chasm in his eyes, swallowing in the sight of you and holding you firmly in place. A soft smirk played at his lips when he leaned in close, nose nearly brushing yours.

"The only thing that's more important to me than me, is you."

{Fin!} Thank you for reading ^o^/

[nkhrdstyvskrrtskrrt]

📎 YOSANO AKIKO ANALYSIS

UNDERSTANDING & ANALYZING BUNGOU STRAY DOGS YOSANO THROUGH THE LENSES OF THE REAL YOSANO AKIKO'S LIFE

WC. 4,000

DISCLAIMER: I am no historian or literary expert I am just obsessed and mentally unwell, if u cannot tell, teehee <333 If this will ignite any hate or hostility (not this post’s intention), please set your sights elsewhere and just scroll. I made this because I love her character and BSD in general to a bone-shattering degree. I hope you have as much fun as I did while researching and writing this, enjoy!! (also English is not my first language forgive me for any grammatical errors ty)

There might be a part two for this, but for now, this is all my tiny brain could offer >:))

IMPORTANT NOTE: There will be a lot of omitted, summarized information that has been subjectively extracted or abridged. This is not a complete, rich historical account but research done to make connections and parallels to better understand and theorize about BSD Yosano’s character. I did not finish reading the entire biography, which is why this is only the first section of a bigger whole.

However, if you desire to dig deeper about her in an unabridged manner please kindly refer to the source I will list below. One last thing, please don’t hesitate to add your own thoughts, I am encouraging you to do so, I will appreciate it so much actually!

My primary source;; Janine Beichman - Embracing the Firebird_ Yosano Akiko and the Birth of the Female Voice in Modern Japanese Poetry-University of Hawaii Press (2002). [pdf can be downloaded for free @/libgen]

Allow me to initiate this observation with a passage directly extracted from her biography (the one named above): 

“Yosano’s father Òtori Sòshichi (1847–1903), was the second-generation owner of the Surugaya, a well-known confectioner that specialized in yòkan (sweet bean paste) and sweet dumplings.”

With this passage in mind, I’d like to remind you of this scene in the manga that hinted at BSD Yosano’s circumstances and background prior to being selected as Mori’s assistant at the fortress. In this panel, she mentioned that she was tending to a candy store before getting drafted. 

Now, drawing from the passage we read regarding the real Yosano Akiko and applying this to BSD Yosano—it’s not far-fetched to assume that the candy shop she was tending to was run and owned by her family. Normally, we could say that familial separation, especially at such an early stage of childhood would be quite hard on the child. However, if we consider the following facts from the real Yosano Akiko’s childhood and parallel it to BSD Yosano again, we could conclude that the separation wasn’t as difficult nor emotional for her when Mori selected her, because she was called in this book an ‘infant exile.’

Starting from the very birth of the real Yosano, her father was severely appalled by her because she was a girl. Moreover, he deserted their home for a week without even looking at his daughter’s face. Her mother became distressed because of the week-long absence of her father, (fainted, even) and couldn’t breastfeed her properly, resulting in the infant Yosano being sent to a maternal aunt accompanied by a wet nurse.

Two years later, due to convenience rather than the will to come back, Yosano returned to her familial house because her aunt had a new baby of her own to look after and raise. Though at this time, a new baby was born, too, at the Otoris. And this baby grew up to be the brother to whom the adult Yosano dedicated her poem ‘Thou Shalt Not Die.’ 

Since the arrival of this baby boy, Yosano’s existence has become easier to tolerate—see this actual snapshot from the passage I am referencing:

‘ while at the Òtori home a baby boy had finally arrived, making it easier to tolerate the unwelcome girl.’

As if to rub in the author’s title for the real Yosano Akiko (infant exile) even their servants and relatives had a distaste for her and her personality, viewing her as the ‘difficult’ child in the family. Here’s another direct quote from the biography book:

‘The relatives chimed in disapprovingly: “‘The younger brother is better behaved; his older sister is a little much.’ From the apprentices to the little uncle on my mother’s side all predicted better things for my younger brother than for me. Having to listen to all that didn’t feel very good.” Even the servants rubbed it in.’

Additionally, Yosano Akiko herself wrote that she never knew the warmth of a mother or father’s lap and that her parents had an inherent antipathy towards her that was not inflicted on her siblings. She wrote, that other women are troubled concerning their in-laws, and how to operate as human beings alongside them but this same worry is her very reality in her own family’s household—blood and flesh—she served her parents as if they were her in-laws and endured hardships by their hand and in their name. Here’s a snippet from the biography:

‘“Other women become brides and struggle to manage a household, but for me it was the reverse: from the time I was a young girl I served my parents as if they were my in-laws, and endured emotional and physical hardships.”’

Another possible factor that enriched an equal sentiment of apathy within Yosano was despite the extremely young age of three she was coerced into attending school—which, as made clear in the biography, was something she disliked. What gave her parents this idea? Well, her father was quite the ardent enthusiast of the science of producing superior human beings. With this belief in mind, it’s no surprise that when he mistook the large forehead of the young Yosano as a sign of intelligence, he sent her to study immediately. 

But Yosano was too young, too passionate, and excited still to engage in play with other children, to have fun with her friends because she was hardly above infancy, only three years old. Despite the awareness of the adults around her that she’s not of school age yet, she was shamed for her disagreement—as said to her by one of her maids: “See what a good girl Miss Takenaka is. Aren’t you ashamed of skipping school?” 

Are you seeing a parallel? BSD Yosano, although just 11 years old, was chosen by Mori to be the core of his immortal regiment plan, because similar to the real Yosano’s situation somebody (her father) saw something urgent and, perhaps special or advantageous in her which is why she was pushed into studying—in BSD Yosano’s case Mori saw this potential within her and incorporated her into his plans, and drafted her from what seems to be her family’s candy shop.

One thing I’d like to emphasize again is that in this drafting of BSD Yosano, the fact that she agreed or at the very least went along with Mori even if it meant being separated from her family, is because she (if we parallel it once again to the poet Yosano) was never really seen as important or someone capable in her family, they did not have faith in what she can do or her future, they did not have confidence in her character. Regarding this sentiment here are two excerpts from the biography: 

‘The restrictions themselves (which were not uncommon then, at least in Sakai) did not hurt as much as the misjudgment of her character and what she might do were she free: “It goes without saying that in a house with many employees, and particularly in a morally lax city like Sakai, a daughter had to be strictly supervised. But there was no need to go that far with a woman who took as many pains to protect herself as I did. I thought the lack of understanding of my feelings that my parents’ attitude showed was outrageous and when alone I often wept over it.”’

And: 

‘Like her parents, the teacher hurt her pride by assuming that she was less intellectually and morally advanced than she actually was, but politeness kept her from objecting. 

And as stated by the creature in Frankenstein (see how I always find a way to mention it haha): “And tell me why I should pity man more than he pities me?” 

Why should she nurture deep affection for her family—relatives and servants too, even her teacher—when they will not reciprocate even a pittance of the same love and care? Or even respect. Take a look at this paragraph from the document:

‘But the results of this parental coldness were not entirely negative. Just as 

ignorance of her ancestry liberated Akiko from the weight of family tradition, 

so multiple caretakers and the lack of parental affection weakened her sense of 

filial obligation. 

‘What gave her the strength to defy her family’s expectations 

and flee to Tokyo in her early twenties? Surely, the intensity of her love for 

Yosano Tekkan and her own literary ambition were most important; but would 

a more cherished daughter have been able to make the break so decisively? The 

seeds of the later revolt were planted in the infant exile.’

For this very reason, I conclude that if anything, being drafted by Mori was, in the 11-year-old Yosano’s eyes, an opportunity to prove her competence and worth and realize her goal—saving people’s lives (although in this, she has been failed). As a matter of fact there is a compelling possibility that this conviction to save lives was another element of the real Yosano’s personality and beliefs. It has been written in the biography that Yosano Akiko’s father was a fan of stories of heroism, stories that involved the act of protecting and saving, and what makes this relevant is that he also loved sharing these stories with his children.

From a young age, her mind was fed with these noble stories, and children are impressionable. That said, the young Yosano Akiko inherently possessed a special empathy and protectiveness over life, in support of this let us read through another snippet from a passage;

‘One summer when Akiko was around eight she was sitting up there in the evening cool with her siblings and some cousins, when one of the older children remarked, “A night when the moon and the stars are close means fire.” When the others had left, Akiko gazed up at the vastness of the sky. Feeling sorry for the children in any house that might burn and worried that the fire might reach her own house, “I tried to think of some way to increase the distance between the little star and the moon.”’

As additional support, kindly read this excerpt as well:

‘In the morning, Akiko’s parents returned from her sister’s house. As their own manager politely expressed his relief that the Takemura home was unharmed, Akiko thought sadly to herself, “I wouldn’t mind having the Take-muras’ storehouse burn down if only the Gusei girl had not turned into a charred corpse.”’

And the last addition to further highlight this:

‘So much in this story of the great Sakai fire is typical of Akiko’s view of the society in which she grew up. She shows us all the negatives of the situation: People turned out in force either because they wanted to keep the fire from spreading to their own houses or because they enjoyed a good disaster as long as it was someone else’s. Even her own family thought it natural to rejoice that their daughter’s storehouse had been spared rather than grieve for the dead Gusei girl.’

The young poet Yosano Akiko, even compared to the adults in her environment bore within her a deeper reverence for life, the actions of the adults and their selfish concerns did not amuse her, she thought very negatively of them. The grief and pity she felt for the single casualty, the girl, meant that the loss of life be it a loss of what people consider an insignificant person, mattered to her. For her, every death is worth grieving. And should never be a source of entertainment or material for gossip (the villagers made festivals and dances inspired by the incident). Taking all this into account, it’s not much of a shock that BSD Yosano was so driven to save lives, why it mattered to her so strongly, why, she was also so severely devastated about what her ability has been used for. 

A brief interlude before further digging into the real poet’s early history, I’d like to draw more emphasis on the previous points made—specifically how she’d rather have the storehouse burn (despite having a mother who’s from a lineage of merchants, and Yosano running the candy shop business as well) if it meant seeing a girl she didn’t know too deeply, live—leaping to the future, the poet’s adulthood, for a moment, to affirm further BSD Yosano’s principles regarding the preciousness of life above all else.

In her most, as called in one article, ‘inflammatory’ poem which is ‘Thou Shalt Not Die’ I want us to focus on this particular line in the poem:

For you, what does it matter if Port Arthur Fortress falls or not?

The poet Yosano Akiko was so adamant in stopping her brother, Port Arthur be damned, because it was common knowledge at that time, false or not, that serving the military was volunteering for your own death—there were rumors of the Japanese soldiers being sent to suicide missions—and for what cause, even? Well, that’s not the right question to ask, let’s correct it to what 11-year-old BSD Yosano expressed in her refusal against Mori’s command to continue healing: Should any cause matter over human life? 

Remember, she disagreed when he (Tachihara’s brother) told her that her ability could change the world. She hoped only to save those she could reach. She was aware, of her limits, of the consequences, and that she could not and should not aim for such causes.

Alright, now that we can clearly see how the real Yosano Akiko’s qualities reflect onto BSD Yosano. Back to the early past.

As young as eight, Yosano Akiko tended and shouldered a huge portion of their business’s management, because, as said in the biography her mother was “sickly” while her father was “irresponsible” so she felt that she had to shoulder their responsibilities, here’s a direct quote: ‘ So Akiko felt that she “absolutely had to” stay home and help her parents, managing both the store and the household.’

But because of this, she earned a position of authority in the household, (additionally, by the age of eighteen, she has salvaged the losses from her father’s stock investments.) analogous to—as she stated herself—how a servant acting on behalf of the master can carve out his or her own sphere of autonomy. 

Our Yosano, if we again, try to see her in the real author’s light, must have been reminded of the corner she was driven into in her younger years. Reminded, of how the adults around her could so easily burden her with duties disproportionate to her age and how powerless she was after all amidst all of it.

This time though, she had hope; hope that she could start anew and could finally leave behind a life riddled with mistrust, and belittling, that she could choose for herself what she would labor for and dedicate her efforts to.

That—in the absence of her hometown and the people she grew with, the absence too, of admiration and belonging would change. 

For a brief moment, it did. 

The soldiers adored her, praised her as an angel, and treated her as someone capable—one made her good coffee, drew her a portrait, and Tachihara’s brother even created a present for her with his ability. She was needed not as some fallback for responsibilities nobody wanted. She was necessary, in a way she approved of. She was not a better-than-nothing exile anymore.

Furthermore, quiet acceptance didn't shackle her speech and response to the adults surrounding her in the fortress. The author, Yosano Akiko during her time running the business, often had to put on a polite face and way of speaking to the customers and called out herself when she seemed childish; moreover, she had to endure the incredulity of the prominent figures in her life, and deal with its damages internally. Take this excerpt, for example:

‘Like her parents, the teacher hurt her pride by assuming that she was less intellectually and morally advanced than she actually was, but politeness kept her from objecting. Among her friends, Akiko could be open about her ambition and her pride, but with adults, she apparently felt she had to choose between a pained silence and outward disrespect, and the latter was impossible for her.’

Meanwhile, in the fortress, she could allow herself to be less restrictive with how she interacts with them. 

Even with Mori, her superior, she let go of the hesitation to speak her mind. It’s no surprise then, that by the end of it, her spirit was broken.

This opportunity for change—to make a change, meant the entire world to her. At last, she was able to help in the way that matters to her and appeals to her heart, she did not choose to be there because there were no other options. She was there for a purpose she believed in. Her service was met with gratitude, they accepted her presence, not simply tolerated it.

Until things went south. 

And it did in ways that reignited the severity of an existing fear within our Yosano. How, and why is this the case? 

The poet, until about fifteen years old, nurtured within her as she wrote, an ‘irrational anxiety about death,’ which ‘shaped her inner life.’ As if to fuel her unease, rumors circulated in Sakai (her hometown) about a certain family’s daughter who died bathed in blood after suffering for three days straight. This rumor made the young Yosano Akiko weep, imagining such a kind of suffering. And with these thoughts haunting her, she came up with a specific way in which she would accept death:

‘“If I am to die, let it be at night, so no one will see. I don’t want my suffering exposed to the light of day. I want to breathe my last alone at night in a dark room, letting death’s cruel hands claim me with lips firmly sealed, not a hair of my 

head out of place.”’

She even contemplated suicide, since it is the only way for her to die on her own terms.

Oftentimes, though, she’d take what she could to stay distracted from her mortality, which is mostly done by reading:

‘So here, in addition to the intellectual curiosity, the pleasure, and the inner

rebellion that motivated Akiko’s early reading, is another motive: escape from 

anxiety about her own mortality.’

She attempted to pacify her thoughts and emotions about death, through religion. However, despite her consideration, she ended up rejecting it. From the age of three or four, she hated the scent of incense being burned, going as far as to rush past the many temples that burned them. She disliked, too, sitting beside her parents with her hands clasped in prayer. Affirming and elaborating more on this, allow me to show you this passage:

‘The Buddhist teachings and legends they told her seemed no more than “fairytales for grownups” that could be of  no help to her in “preparing for death.”

Once she “asked if Gautama Buddha had really existed and, if so, what country he had been a citizen of ” and was told that she “would receive divine retribution” for her impertinence.

Every month her mother and her friends heard a lecture by a priest, but as soon as 

the lecture was over, the priest would join them in “ordinary gossip, speaking ill of people behind their backs.”

Akiko “realized that these believers were not even one-tenth as serious as I was about... life and death and that even after twenty or thirty years of visiting temples and praying they were still not saved.” If they had no hope, she reasoned, how much less had she. And so she 

concluded that it was “useless” for her “to expect to be helped by Jòdo Shin-

shû.”’

What did encapture her, and attract her (as said in the biography) then?

Alongside the stories of heroic virgins in Japanese myths, she too was moved by Sokkyò Shijin which was the Japanese translation of The Improviser, translated by—guess who? Ougai Mori. Yes, him. Now I want you to witness this excerpt from the biography:

‘“I envied the pure, noble life of virgin empresses like the goddess Amaterasu. The imperial virgins of Ise and Kamo also filled me with longing. When I look back now on how I felt then, I think that, while squarely facing reality, I flew off and thought of my future in beautiful, idealistic terms, and wanted to stay a pure, undefiled virgin, like an angel, all my life.”’

Considering the new information, we can once again connect it to our Yosano and conclude that BSD Yosano also shared the poet’s fear of death and mortality. Besides her disconnect with her family, she wanted to prevent others from experiencing the fear of dying in a gruesome and undignified manner, which is why she allowed herself to be drafted for war. If you’ll allow me to speculate further, I’d say dying for her (at least she believed) should be a choice, or at the very least should be aligned with the personal preferences and ideals of the person dying—and this principle of hers, augmented the horror she has felt and has bestowed upon the soldiers because what exactly did the weaponizing of her ability bereave the soldiers of, exactly? The control they have over their own death. 

She wanted to save them from death, and she did. Until they didn't want to—until, she didn't want to, anymore. But she, a child, never stood a chance against what she was actually there for. She was there as a tool to convey a new age of weaponry which were abilities.

The scene with Kaji must have allowed these memories to resurface, he called the train bombing incident an experiment, and in a sense she too was an experiment—like the soldiers, she was there to further the idea and be the evidence that abilities were the weapons of the future that will completely change the battlefield, without any guarantee that she or the soldiers would achieve success, or leave intact.

And they didn’t—not them, not her.

For now, this is all I have for our Yosano.

Or is it? Before we end this I’d like to speculate even more about the significance of Mori as a figure in our Yosano’s life—the poet was moved, her heart attached to the real Mori’s use of language in his translation, in how he wrote the nun—perhaps, BSD Yosano put an equal amount of trust and faith in Mori, his intentions, his treatment of her. Given the real Yosano’s experiences and applying the same to our Yosano, she has every reason to be distrustful and skeptical of suddenly being drafted out of all the older, more experienced people by another adult. So there must be something about BSD Mori’s language, too, that persuaded her and moved her the same way the real Yosano was affected by it. For the first time she believed—relied on him, despite experiencing so many disheartening memories dealt to her by older figures in her life.

Okay, I’m serious now, this is the end. I hope you enjoyed and most of all I hope you appreciate her more as a character, that would be the greatest achievement this post could make.

my main is @ice-devourer jic u wanna talk more abt this, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING OMG!

[celebtf]

The Flash & The double

I was sitting at my breakfast table one morning and scrolled through Instagram like I always do. Like always I never really find something but I looked at some Reels, alot of cute animals, like cats and dogs, I really love those videos.

I looked and saw that CW had put out an audition, it was for The Flash, I love that show and Grant look so hot in it too. I sended in my application with photos and resume, it was a little chance I got this job.

A week later a girl from CW called and said I was welcome to a audition next week. I thanked her and I got the script sent over.

I arrived at the location she sent over, it was this an apartment, not what I had in mind but I didn't question anything. I walked in and sat on a chair in the hallway and waited till somebody called my name.

" Steve " a blonde girl yelled and I followed quick after her in to the room.

In the room sat 4 people, I guess then would judge me, probably a jury to see if I fit the small part I was auditioning for. When I looked up I saw Grant Gustin himself sit at the table, he smiled and looked me up and down.

" So Steve, can you do any acrobatics? " Grant asked me with a big smile, his teeths are perfect I though for myself.

" Yes, I can do both acro and parkour, I been training for years, I used to be a stunt double back in the days.. well 2 years ago " I laughed and smiled.

" So we are looking for somebody that can do this small part and also be a stunt double for Grant if that would be needed " the blonde girl said, I smiled answered her.

" Okay we are switching things up, here, take one of my scrips" Grant said and gave me a page with a few of his lines from season 1. I read them and did the audition and after, I went home, questioning how good I really did.

A few days later calls Grant himself my phone to congrat me on getting the job, he said I would only work as his Stunt double as they cut the other character, I didn't really complaine ofcourse, it's The Flash. They would need me on set tomorrow for a Suit fitting.

The next day I was on set early since I didn't want to be late for my first day. " Steve, there you are, welcome " Grant met me with open arms. He smelled so Woody and musky, drove my mind crazy. Me and Grant walked together to the costum departementet since I didn't really know my way around.

We both arrived and walked in to the costume departement, it was so big, and it had mini rooms and a whole closet, I had never seen something this big before.

" Hey Steve, sorry for calling you in this early , just needed to check some things, your suit is over there, we will leave for a while when you change. " the girls said and left me and Grant alone. " Is It okay if I stay " he asked, I felt myself getting harder, but answered him and he stayed.

The suit looked really good for it to be a stunt double one. Usually the company don't really put in the effort when it comes the the stunt double's costumes because they often get trashed on set.

I took of my clothes so I was only in my white boxers, I could see Grant checking me out in the corner of my eyes. I took the suit and started dressing myself, on leg at a time, then over my butt, over my abs and all the way up. I asked Grant to zip it up, and he did. " let me help you with the mask too" Grant said and put the mask on me.

I could feel my body start to shake, a wave past through my body and I felt my feet grow bigger, my legs and thighs got thicker, my butt got fuller, in the pain I saw Grant lick is lips and grab his bulge. My spine cracked and I was in pain, so much pain, my arms got bigger and thicker. A wave of pleasure went down to my dick and it started to grow harder and longer. I could feel the mask heating up, my jaw got shaper, my nose got smaller, eyes went brown and my hair shortend and became brown.

" Looking good Sexy, damn, my ass looks so good in that suit " Grant laughed and walked towards me. " You did this, you planned all for this " my voice cracked and came out darker. He laughed again " Ofcourse I did, from the start, that's why you got to read my lines at the audition, remember, now look in the mirror and say you don't look hot "

Damn I look good and I snaped a picture, I could here Grant laugh behind me again. He came behind me and started to touch my new body.

" I see somebody is excited to see his new face and body " he grabed my bulge and I moaned. " You know, when you're as famous as me, you can't be at two places at once, so I planed this, so you could do half the work and I do the second one. " he laughed and gave me his script " You do the scenes today, I'm sneaking home, I texted my adress, come over with your stuff, you're living with me now". Grant grabed my bulge again and I moaned, he laughed and left.

I went over the lines, went out on set, I kept telling myself I'm Grant Gustin.

Hello I'm back with a new story, this one is inspired by @dulafer and his story " The stunt double " but with a twist. I hope everybody likes it.

[milksnake-tea]

Can I ask for Nanook and Yaoshi (separate) x gn!reader whose a nameless hcs? ( akivili hasn't died yet)

loving nameless.

characters: nanook, yaoshi

contains: ooc!characters, slight yandere themes ??

a/n: these two were pretty similar so i bunched them up together, hope u don't mind! personally i can't see nanook abandoning their path to join the express so im sorry that will not be included 😭😭 i know u said nanook is ooc but my perfectionist self is too stickly for that HAUSHSU the yaoshi bias is real here tho

The second you mention your relationship, you're immediately faced with backlash. Both Welt and Akivili are absolutely appalled at the very notion of you being lovers with Nanook of all people. The Express members were practically begging you to reconsider, after all, Nanook was their mortal enemy. Nanook was dangerous, evil, and well... Nanook.

But Nanook was devoted to you, and wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon. You can still remember the dangerous flash in their molten eyes when Welt voiced his opposition, antimatter forming around them as they burned figurative holes into his body.

For a terrifying moment, you were afraid that they would simply kill the man, but it seemed that the presence of another Aeon made Nanook remember themself. In the end, they merely reminded the Trailblaze they were more than capable of destroying both Akivili and the Express, end of discussion.

The Express took a while to get used to the Destruction's visits. Pom-Pom hid behind Welt's legs whenever the Aeon appeared, but as time went on, the two of them grew to tolerate the other.

It's... ironic, to say the least, when Nanook welcomes you back after a trailblazing trip, especially after sealing one of their many Stellarons. It's something that has led to several playfights, where you whine to Nanook about what the Stellaron did to that world, while Nanook merely pats your head and pretends to care.

To be honest, you're the only reason why Nanook doesn't just plant another Stellaron after the one you just finished sealing.

Against you, the Aeon of Destruction looks akin to a kicked puppy whenever you drag them away from planets recovering from their Stellarons. There are certain planets whose civilizations you've befriended and are off-limits to Nanook's purge. It takes a lot out of the Aeon to go against the will of their Path, but they manage (you later catch them absolutely decimating another planet in order to satisfy their urges).

That said, when you do go on trailblazing missions, you have to be careful not to get hurt. Nanook obeys the "no murder" rule when on the Express, but any other worlds are fair game. Whenever you get so much so as a paper cut, you have to glare pointedly at the sky, knowing that Nanook was watching you.

All in all, being a Nameless as well as the lover of Nanook is quite the impressive feat. Many of the Express will never truly be accustomed to the Destruction, and the Stellarons often become an awkward topic.

But you make it work, somehow. Even if one day, you'll have to face down your lover for the sake of the galaxy.

Yaoshi met you on the Xianzhou ships, when you, alongside your fellow Nameless, faced off against a couple of their Disciples. You were quite the thorn in the Disciples' side, foiling their plans left and right, and so Yaoshi became intrigued, wondering just who was giving them so much trouble.

For a while, they merely observed you from the shadows, keeping themself hidden from both the Xianzhou and the Disciples. They didn't see what the big deal was - you were powerful, sure, but so were the rest of your companions. If anything, Yaoshi wagered that the one holding the Stellaron within them, or that older gentleman were bigger threats than you were.

They really should've left it at that. They should've turned away, perhaps given their Disciples a little boost, but nevertheless, Yaoshi should've left.

But they didn't.

Something about you kept them there, on enemy territory. Something about you lured them in, enraptured them. They found that their eyes were never able to fully leave your form, watching you in awe as you fought against their people.

Yaoshi speaks in your dreams, always sweetly smiling as they converse with you. They're wary of revealing their true identity, knowing how the Xianzhou paints them as some kind of villain (the audacity of that Hunt, honestly).

For the most part, you know them as a stranger - a beautiful stranger, but a stranger nevertheless. They visit frequently, always asking the same things: How was your day today? Did anything of interest happen? Oh, the Abundance's creations caused you some issues as of late? How troublesome.

As time passes, you become accustomed, comfortable with their presence, and you begin looking forward to your meetings. With Yaoshi, you can vent your troubles without fear of judgement, exchange jokes you would've otherwise been embarrassed to say, anything your heart desires. Yaoshi makes it easy to let your guard down, especially with their kind and empathetic nature.

When they inevitably reveal themself as Yaoshi, the Aeon of Abundance, you truthfully weren't surprised. You've figured that they were some type of deity - the arms being a dead giveaway that they weren't human. Their frequent complaints about a certain "pursuer" only strengthened your suspicions.

But what shook you was their admittance to their attachment to you. Yaoshi hadn't planned on staying around for this long, but you, whether intentionally or not, had carved a spot for yourself right in the Aeon's heart.

You didn't know what to make of it. You knew, deep inside, that you felt the same way. You didn't want to push them away, but knowing that they were the reason behind the Xianzhou's suffering made you hesitate. Your friends on the Xianzhou would surely never forgive you if you became lovers with the Abundance.

But Yaoshi understood. They saw your conflict, your hesitance, and they smiled - that infuriatingly sweet, understanding smile. They took your hand in theirs, and kissed your forehead.

It's alright if you needed time to process everything. Yaoshi was nothing if not patient. Whenever you were ready, Yaoshi would be waiting for you with open arms.

[lolita-lollipop]

i’ve never requested anything before so idk how this works but, if you’re still taking request for avatar characters, i’m thinking of a neteyam x reader, like the reader is a really talented warrior and they’re the apprentice of Jake and Both the Reader and Neteyam are constantly in competition to see who’s the strongest and at some point one of them just has an outburst due to all the pressure they have on them. (btw i literally found your account today and i just have to say i love your writing) :))

NETEYAM X READER

Golden child

———————————————————————

Growing up in the omaticaya clan, the people recognized the spark you had, a passionate flame that burned in your heart. Strong, leading. Everybody knew that you would be someone great, and that’s exactly what you were. You always aimed for the top, always made 1st place, always tried your hardest at everything you did.

And alongside you, the oldest son of Jake sully, neteyam.

The two of you were fairly close in age, you being only a few months younger, and when your parents died, and were given back to eywa, jake felt the responsibility of taking you in, they were in his war party, and you reminded him so much of himself. And Neytiri always wanted a daughter, so you became a sully.

And so it begun. With the two of you, everything had to be a competition. You got your ikran? Neteyam gets his a day later. You catch a fish while hunting? Neteyam catches 7. You can eat 2 fish? Neteyam can at 3. Every waking hour the two of you lived was spent staring at eachother, waiting to beat the other. THe only thing you had above him, was that you were in the war party, and he always on lookout.

“Did you get hurt while on your mission? I guess the sky people are getting too strong for you.” he spoke, noticing the cut on your cheek, the both of you knew he was joking. He pressed a piece of cloth against your cheek, sending a smirk. You just narrowed your eyes, chuckling.

“Being that i was able to come within 10 feet of one, im not worried. How was your little tree a mile away from our spot? Was it nice and warm?” you taunted right back at him, laughing at how his smirk fell. This was such a common interactionbetween the two of you, in which neither of you took it seriously.

Even so, you and neteyam were kind of forced to grow a bond, being that 90% of your time was spent trying to outdo the other. The two of you didnt really know why it was the way it was between you two, maybe the validation you got from jake in being the oldest sibling, or the golden child, who could protect the family. Both of you kindled the same flame, and it made both of you stronger.

So naturally, when the two of you both moved to the metkayina tribes together, along with the rest o the sully family, and learned that you would have to learn the ways of water… It became a rivalry. Who could pick it up faster. Who’s ilu was bigger, who could stay underwater for longer, who could stay out of trouble longer.

ANd to your great surprise, neteyam found himself winning at everything. He was just so fast in adjusting to the world around, he could ride on an ilu within the first days of trying, automatically he was able to understand the breathing techniques of the metkayina clan, he made it look. So . easy.

But you? You couldnt, you didnt even know why it was so hard, tuk even got it within a month. You could barely swim, holding your breath was harder than fighting a sky person in one of those suits, and you just couldnt bond with the nature around, even if it was beautiful. You tried your hardest, practicing for hours longer than you had to, almost feinting from exhaustion every night. But still, things didnt get better like they usually did.

And it tore you apart, youd never not been good at something, even if it was hard at first, you ALWAYS got better at it. That was why this was just so strange for you, so overwhelming to the point that it made you want to rip your hair out. You just couldnt comprehend how he was just so good at everything, that was your job, it's not fun to compete when you arent good at it.

So as a few months past, your agitation grew, and your patience shrunk. Things werent getting better, even Lo-ak was picking things up faster than you, and he never did that. And trust me, everybody noticed, you became snappy, talking back to your dad, refusing to hang out with tuk most of the time, and you even yelled at anuong twice for teasing you. Eventually, jake stopped complimenting you like he did in the forests, and that hurt more than anything else could. Even if it was unintentional.

Eventually, when it all became too much for you to handle anymore, you asked for help. And who else to ask but the one guy you knew had to help you. Neteyam, he had to miss your daily little competitions, so he needed you to get better at… everything.

“Neteyam?” you approached him when the two of you were alone, he was cleaning the saddles of his ilu, which generally was an easy task, actually it was quite calming, so you assumed he would be easier to talk to now.

“Yeah?”

“I- im having trouble-i need you to- could you- um-” you spluttered, you were not known to be shy. Ever. This place is changing too much about you, and you hate it. The only person youd ever really felt comfortable asking for help from was jake, and even then that was only in dire situations. You just didnt know how to do it without feeling weak, feeling inferior.

“Oh? Is somebody trying to ask me for help?” A smirk splayed on his face as he side eyed you, placing the ilu saddle down, he crossed his arms, and stared at you in the same way neytiri would when she would watch you do something stupid. It was condescending. You wanted to punch him in the face.

“Y-yes, I am” his stare sent you into an internal rabbit hole, it was unrelenting, and you could tell exactly what he was thinking. That you were becoming weak. That he finally beat you at something.

“Say it.”

“Really?” You crossed your arms and stared at the boy. He had to be out of his mind to think you would go that low for him to- oh. You were going that low.

“Say. It.”

“Neteyam, please help me”

“Oh wow. What happened to the girl who restled a thanator? Is everybodys favorite Sully losing her spark?” he joked, setting a hand on your shoulder and tilting his head with a smirk. He wasnt serious, the two of you always teased eachother, which was most of the time mean comments, but it never was serious. But at this point, the nights you spent trying to swim instead of sleeping caught up, and your comprehension had ceased to work. Imagine neteyams surprise when his lighthearted joke made your lip start to wobble, and your eyes start to gloss over.

“Yeah- i think i am.” and with those words, your shoulders started shaking, and in a few seconds you dropped to your knees, and were crying like tuk does when she gets hurt. Large sobs racked your chest, and you brought your hands up to your eyes, shielding yourself from the embarrassment that you knew would come with crying in front of the boy that you constantly competed against.

You’d never felt so fucking incompetent before, like you couldn’t contribute anything to the table anymore. It made you want to kill everybody within a ten mile radius.

Immediately when neteyam realized that you were serious, and that this wasnt something you and loak were pranking him with, he also fell onto his knees, and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to him. His hand found it's way to your face, and he pushed the curtain of hair away from your eyes, pulling your hands away your hands.

“No- no don't cry y/n. I Didnt mean it, youre perfect- It was a joke i promise” He spluttered out in any attempts to console you, his eyes met your own, and he just stared. The both of you had experience in consoling younger crying siblings, but it never was you. He didnt think hed ever seen you cry before. It’s like all of his instincts froze up, and he had absolutely no idea what to do.

“Thats the thing Nete. I think youre right- I cant do anything anymore- breathing is hard for me- And dad doesnt look at me like he used to anymore- I just- i don't know what im doing wrong” you squinted your eyes and sniffled, you were just so tired, and overwhelmed. And so fucking done. You wanted to go home, back to what was normal, back where you could function like a person.

“Ma we y/n. Ma we. Y/n, you are the youngest to ever be in the omaticaya war party. Your name is known across pandora, you’ve surpassed the limits of eywa. You are nothing but elite-” he shifted in front of you and placed of his hands on the sides of your face. It forced you to look him in the eyes, and listen to what he was saying.

“Shes gone though- I cant hunt like they do. I am not a warrior of the sea. I can do nothing now. And youre just- you can do everything I can’t” the more you talked, the harder you made it for yourself to stop crying. All of the emotion, all of the anger, the grief, the aggravation, just crumbled. Along with that stupid golden child complex of yours.

“Y/n. Shut up. You are so amazing to me it hurts. The only reason you feel like this is because for the first time, you can’t do something. But that’s okay. I’m here. I see you.” He pressed his forehead to your own, wiping the tears that left your eyes with his thumb. You closed your eyes, and let him embrace you. This was strange, weakened wasn’t something either of you were very keen on showing, especially with him, especially not when it made you feel like this. Like neteyam was more than a rival.

“You promise?”

“Of course. ”

The two of you sat there for a moment, foreheads pressed closely, his hand on your shoulder and your face, comforting you with touch, rubbing circles into your back and wiping tears away. You could feel his breath, his heartbeat. And that alone was able to calm you down. Just him.

Just neteyam.

“I’m sorry- I know this is stupid I just didn’t know who else to ask and I thought you-“ it only took you a few seconds to realize the intimacy of the situation, him holding you, pressed up against your face, if anybody were to see you your parents would throw a fit. Your cheeks flushed a deeper shade of purple-y blue, and you stood up, breaking the locked eyes you had with the boy. He just chuckled.

“Does this mean I win?“ he let out the same giggle tuk might have when you went to throw the ilu saddle at him. Which eventually turned into him tackling you into the water. The two of you laughed, pretending to forget whatever just happened, whatever step the two of you just took in your relationship, trying to avoid whatever feelings both of you were most certainly having all of a sudden.

“Oh shut up”

———

*Bonus*

Anuong And loak watch your two figures from a farther away peer, they had been training when they caught eyes of the two golden silly’s getting a little too close for comfort. Immediately lo-ak was cackling at how stressed neteyam looked being so close to you.

“Let’s make a bet, loser has to do the others chores for a month” anuong spoke, staring at the two of you with intent. Lo-ak raised an eyebrow and smiled, it was so funny, he’d always been able to see it. The two of you were head over heels, you just couldn’t see it.

“I’d give it a week before they’re on top of eachother like mates” he answered, leaning over the edge of the peer and watching the two of press together. He couldn’t blame his brother for being so in love with you , you were amazing. Doesn’t mean he wouldn’t use your relationship to his advantage.

“You’re on, fish lips.”

———————————————————————

Lol I had fun writing this; not really angst but a lil bit sad here and there

Anyway, thanks for requesting, and thanks for reading, I lived writing this even though I’m pretty sure it’s not very good. Bye! Have a great day!

[sssarrrra]

𝐅𝐲𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞, 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠

Fyodor can still feel things, no matter how much he tries to hide it. We know where he channels his negative emotions (to sinners). But where do the positive ones go? Well, he dedicates them to God.

God is a time capsule for all the positive feelings that are still left inside Fyodor. They're too vulnerable, too tender, too childish to share them with humans. People will only trample over them and leave him empty.

But Dostoevsky still can't part with his sentiments. They give his heart a little jolt so it can keep living a little longer. So where can he direct them?

God is left as his only safe space for that.

Fyodor treats the concept of God like a coffer, where he can store his dreams from the earlier days. All of his hopes, aspirations, fantasies are better be locked inside the God's chest. Since God is the only one occupying Fyodor's brain, he'll keep them safe.

Devine being became a target for Fyodor's affection because He can't reject or hurt Dostoevsky in any meaningful way. It's left up to Fyodor's mind to imagine God as he likes. And so he does it.

God becomes not only a symbol to thrive for, but also a companion that helps him to cope with the loneliness.

God accepts all the Fyodor's needs humanity haven't fulfilled. His agonizing idealism, his need for deep understanding of his soul and a connection that makes him feel at home.

Surely, during the centuries of Fyodor's life, he came close to forming a bond with people at least a few times. But the process of separation was so painful, Dostoy decided it wasn't worth it anyway.

His failure to organically morn the end of his relations led to his fatal inability to reattach once again. Fyodor mistrusts new people in his life: he compartmentalizes them, puts on labels, and tries to keep every interaction under control.

The only one who can relate to this mindset is Bram, but even he is able to break away from it because of Aya. Stoker risks taking interest in the girl and then sacrifices his life for her. Now Bram's time is no longer frozen in place, he's moving forward, his character progresses.

But Fyodor is too overwhelmed with his feelings and memories that have never healed. He probably thinks that even a small bit of a emotional pain will break him entirely. So even if someone comes to Dostoevsky, waving a friendship flag in the air, Fyodor will shut down to keep them away.

This is what happened with Gogol. Nikolai wanted to be friends with Fyodor. But Dostoy never showed him any of his deeper emotions. By hiding all personal information, Dos-kun maintained a distance between himself and a jester. So the later couldn't reach out to and comfort Fyodor even if he wanted.

Of course, there is always a chance that Gogol would use Dostoevsky's feelings against him. And Fyodor also probably thought about that, so he cut off that option entirely. Sadly, we'd never see where their connection could lead, if Dostoevsky chose to share with Nikolai his everything. Maybe, it would lead to an even bigger disaster, but perhaps they would be able to find some solace in each other.

Now Fyodor is too hurt to open up his soul. All the scars on it had fused into an armor, protecting him from caring about others. Dostoevsky's soul became a shell, impenetrable from the outside. He made sure it would never change. His fortress. His prison. His mind.

Trapped inside of it, Dostoevsky still craved for someone to be there for him. Fyodor wanted a friend with whom he could converse without lying. He wanted a family. Maybe, he even wanted a lover.

Therefore, God was cast in all the roles that had been left vacant in Fyodor's life. And of course, Devine Being could fulfill them better than anyone. At least, from the Dostoy's perspective, his life was easier this way.

In Fyodor's story, God is a star of every relationship he still has.

God is almost like a friend, but he won't argue back or abandon him in pain. He won't make Fyodor feel inadequate by disagreeing with his perspective.

God is like a family, but he loves Fyodor unconditionally or at least His “conditions” are kinder than human ones. They're much more bearable than the rules Dostoevsky had to abide by when he was a child.

God is like a lover, but his love isn't physically “sinful” (whatever sexuality Fyodor has, it's very morphed and repressed). Devine being won't be put off by Fyodor's appearance and won't leave once He sees who Fyodor truly is.

God is like a teacher, but he doesn't have a hidden agenda and actually wants Fyodor to be better. God knows indefinitely more than Fyodor, so He can always share something new from His well of knowledge.

And of course, God will never change, die or choose someone else. He is always there.

It feels safe for Fyodor to love and admire someone who is so perfect.

And well, God can't disappoint.