#and i feel very very bad that that is happening :[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[

[juney-blues]

June Egbert is, and always has been incredibly fascinating to me because of just, how many factors have conspired to make Homestuck fans show their collective transmisogynistic asses.

The main character of Homestuck transitioning is a planned future plot point for the official continuation of homestuck, that was spoiled in advance by a fan making a joke about finding some toblerones Andrew Hussie the author of homestuck hid in a cave.

The current main writers of Homestuck: Beyond Canon have went on record in an AMA confirming that this was indeed always the plan, even before they took up the project.

In spite of these facts, the general consensus among certain homestuck fans seems to be that "June Egbert" is purely a headcanon for the original comic that was "made canon" by a "Toblerone Wish" (a concept that didn't even exist at the time)

For a variety of reasons, the "canonicity" of the postcanon official continuations of homestuck is a mattter of much debate, (though a debate that most homestuck fans seem to err on a side of "it's not canon at all in the slightest," something the writers have feelings on I'm sure.)

All of these factors combined leave the concept of "June Egbert" in a very nebulous place. It's assumed by most to just be an "ascended headcanon" that was shoehorned in, it's a spoiler so it hasn't happened yet in any official media, and the official media it will eventually happen in is regarded by some to be nothing more than glorified fanfic.

If someone is talking about June Egbert, and you don't like the concept of June Egbert, you have your pick of a million different excuses for why she's fake and gay and not worth discussing and bad writing and just the authors doing a gay dumbledore*, paying lip service to representation while actually doing nothing.

And of course, lots of people *don't* like June Egbert! Rather than being introduced as transfem from the start, she's in this nebulous position of discovery where people have to truly reckon with the idea of a "Pre-transition Trans Woman."

You can try to write off *some* of the backlash as transphobia, because obviously not everyone in this fandom is gonna be cool about trans people.

But there's no shortage of fans just dying to tell you about how much they like reading her as transmasc, or the idea of her being nonbinary or genderqueer or genderfluid, or literally anything besides a trans woman. And since they're fine with all those other interpretations, there's obviously no implicit biases driving their distaste for the concept! (if you want to try explaining the concept of "transmisogyny" to people like this you're braver than I.)

you can trust them when they say it's *just* a problem with whether or not it makes sense with the writing, or it just doesn't feel right somehow, or any of the thousands of excuses that this writing situation gives them to just Not Like It.

It's just, so interesting to me. There's not a lot of characters out there that get a trans arc in this way, that leaves room for open denialism and insistence that we have our trans cake and eat it too... Because Homestuck is a timeline spanning multiverse story, lots of people seem to want it to be an alternate timeline thing. Assuring us we can have this character share space with a non-transitioning version of herself and it won't be weird or imply gross things about trans people.

If you ask me it feels like a plotline that'd be really good for exploring some gender horror though, finding your true self and then being demoted to a footnote, an alternate version, because everyone around you likes your pre-transition self more....

Anyway I have no broader point beyond "hey look at this isn't this kinda weird. You don't get this kinda stuff often!"

*side note: it's a little ghoulish I think to compare "a future trans plot point that hasn't been given the chance to even happen yet, in an already famously queer piece of media, from a nonbinary author" to "some stupid shit done by the literal most famous transphobe of all time" but that's perhaps a discussion for later.

[cutielando]

a baku special | l.n.

synopsis: in which Y/N is there for the Baku GP

my masterlist

To say that Lando was excited for the Azerbaijan weekend was an understatement. Baku was probably one of his favorite tracks, and he was excited to finally be back after a year away.

He was especially excited that you were finally able to attend the race, having been stuck at work ever since you came back from the summer break. You were just as bummed that you had to miss the Dutch Grand Prix, especially since his family was there for Lando, but you finally managed to get some time off of work to join your boyfriend.

The entire team was grateful that you were able to tag along, frankly. They never failed to let you know just how mopey Lando was every time he had to leave you behind at home, how down he was and how much it took to get him to even smile or seem excited about the race.

Poking fun at him with Jon and Will was one of your favorite things, in truth. Even though he always got embarrassed, you knew he secretly loved seeing you get along so well with the closest people to him from the team. 

The weekend started very promising, to say the least. Both Oscar and Lando seemed very consistent and quick during the runs they did in the free practice sessions, and everything was looking very well for the qualifying session later that Saturday.

Lando had a very good feeling about it, jumping up and down in excitement in the last half hour he had free before he had to get in the car.

“You look excited as hell” you commented as Lando brought you with him as he started getting ready, smiling at how bouncy and energetic he was.

“I have a good feeling about this weekend, just wait and see” he smiled, giving you one last kiss before putting on his balaclava and his helmet, making you press a kiss to it before he made his way towards the car.

It had become your little ritual whenever you attended a race, giving his helmet a little kiss before he would get into the car. It made him feel more confident when you did that, reminding him that you were there with him, supporting him like you always did. 

But as the minutes ticked by during Q1 and Lando exited the garage with 2 minutes left on the clock, your heart started racing a little and panic started creeping into your veins. 

They had left it very late, and with the amount of yellow flags that have been shown during every single session so far in the weekend, you worried that something was going to go wrong and he wouldn’t be able to set a fast lap in time.

And, unfortunately, that was exactly what had happened.

He was doing so well, his lap times were so much faster than his previous lap and he was so close to the finish line when the marshals decided to wave that yellow flag for Ocon’s car, ultimately ending your boyfriend’s quali run in that exact moment.

Slamming on the breaks just mere meters away from the finish line, Lando slowly limped back to the pits, the session over for him much earlier than anyone had expected.

You didn’t need to see or hear him to know how gutted and disappointed he was by the pure bad luck he had with the timing of that yellow flag, the fight for the World Championship now more intense than ever. There was no room for mistakes, everyone knew that, but what could you do when things out of your control happen?

Will was just as disappointed as Lando when he had to tell him he did not have the time to start another flying lap, Jon was just as sad as you were to see him aborting and coming back 17th, and you… you had no words left in your body.

Lando got out of the car quickly, taking off his helmet and balaclava before accepting the water bottle you had been holding for him, his expression neutral, but you could see the turmoil happening in his eyes.

You slowly approached him as he drank from his bottle and stared off into the distance, pressing a hand on his back as you leaned in to whisper in his ear “Do you want to go back to your driver room for a bit?” 

He nodded, his mind still somewhere else but he allowed you to pull him with you, not even glancing at anyone in the garage. He felt bad enough as it was, he didn’t want to see the disappointed faces of his entire team, it would only make him feel worse.

You silently walked through the motor home, smiling slightly at people passing you and praying that none of them say anything to Lando. He just needed to be alone and away from everyone for a moment, he didn’t need to be bombarded with questions from the media just yet.

He deserved to be alone for at least 5 minutes following that qualifying.

The moment you got to his room, you locked the door behind you as he sat down on a chair, staring at his feet with an absent look on his face.

“Are you okay?” you asked as you kneeled in front of him, taking the bottle out of his hands and taking his hands into yours.

“The championship battle is over” he muttered, biting his lip as he sniffled. 

You shook your head, squeezing his hands into yours.

“Don’t say that, don’t you dare say that. You had back luck, baby, everyone knows that. You would have been P2 if that yellow flag hadn’t happened, and you know it. It had nothing to do with your performance, baby. It was FIA's mistake, don’t beat yourself up over it. You’ll come back stronger in tomorrow’s race and you’ll show everyone what a brilliant driver you really are” you said, punctuating every single word.

“What if I can’t do it? P17 is not really an ideal start” he said, but the corner of his lip threatened to lift upwards.

He was slowly coming back to you, slowly realizing that this wasn’t the end of the world, and it certainly wasn’t the end in his championship battle with Max.

“You will fight like hell and you will come back from this. I’m sure others will receive penalties and you’ll move up either way, but you’re a brilliant driver and this is nothing but another challenge to prove to everyone just how good you are and how much you deserve to have a quick car and win with it” you declared, your heart growing fonder once you saw the small smile Lando had on his face.

Just for the moment, he didn’t care about the race tomorrow, or about the fact that he had to start at the back of the grid. The only thing he cared about in that moment was that you were there with him, and that was all he needed in order to push through.

Just you.

♡♡♡♡♡

The morning of the race was very busy for Lando, having woken up a good while before you and left for the track so he could discuss the strategy with his team thoroughly. 

You didn’t wake up until 10am, having taken your time to get ready before heading to the track alongside Jon. 

Meeting up with Lando took longer than you had expected, him finally emerging into the motorhome an hour and a half before he had to be in the car to start the race.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” you asked once he came into your view, joining you as you were grabbing breakfast.

He sighed, resting his elbows against the table and his head against his palm.

“I’ve been up since 7, going over different strategies since 8:30. I’m starting 15th, by the way. Pierre and Lewis are both starting from the pitlane, so that’s some good news” he said, making you smile and squeeze his arm.

“Remember what we talked about yesterday?” you asked, making him nod. “This is just another day where you have to drive your best and show everyone just how talented you are with a good car. Don’t think about how many cars you have to overtake, just go out there and have a good time. I have faith in you” you smiled and kissed the side of his head, resting your forehead against his shoulder as your hand caressed the hair at the back of his neck, the soft curls waving between your fingers.

“Sometimes I don’t know how I manage when you’re not here with me” he said, resting his head against yours.

You smile sadly, wishing that you could attend every single race in order to be with him. 

The two of you had had some talks during the course of your relationship, with Lando suggesting that if you didn’t want to, you didn’t have to work because he had more than enough money to comfortably support the both of you.

But you liked your job, you liked the feeling of belonging to a place just like Lando belonged in the racing world, and you liked earning your own money (even though you barely used any of it because Lando always insisted on paying for everything). But when there came times like these, when your fiancé just needed you to be there for him, you wanted nothing more than to quit your job and just follow him around the world.

That was a conversation you would have after the race, though.

“I love you, never forget that. I’m always here for you, even if I’m not physically here. I’ll support you from whatever corner of the world I am at, never doubt that” you turned his head towards you and kissed him, pouring every single emotion into the kiss.

Lando melted at the feeling of your lips against his, the feeling of kissing you never having less of an effect on him than it did when you first got together. The butterflies were still there, and he still giggled on the inside whenever you two kissed, like a teenager in love.

Because he was in love with you, head over heels, and he would never get over it when it felt so good.

“I love you too”

♡♡♡♡♡

Frankly, the race was one of the most stress-inducing races you had ever attended personally. 

You were biting your lip every time the screen would cut to Lando overtaking someone, the sight of the walls coming at him at very high speeds making your heart jump every single time.

But seeing him climb through the order as fast as he possibly could made you prouder than you thought you could ever be.

The last sting on the mediums trying to catch and overtake Max had you the most stressed. You knew it was a pretty high gamble, one that both Lando and the team were willing to make, but you also knew how badly Max defended his positions, whether he had the car to do it or not.

Painful flashbacks of their fight in Austria came at you with high speeds, the unfortunate retirement on Lando’s side with just a couple of laps to go still haunting the both of you.

But then, he got closer and closer to Max, with fewer and fewer laps to go, and then he was in front of him. You didn’t remember cheering as loudly as you did in that moment with the team, not even when he won in Miami or Zandvoort.

Crossing the finish line in P4 was more than anyone could have wanted, and with Oscar winning the Grand Prix and McLaren leading the Constructors Championship, it was an amazing day for everyone in the team, every single person involved.

But especially for Lando.

You were anxiously and excitedly waiting for him to get back to the garage, ready to congratulate him on a superb drive that he should be nothing but proud of.

And then when you finally saw him approaching, you couldn’t stop yourself from running over to him, jumping straight into his arms, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck and your legs locked around his waist.

“I’m so fucking proud of you” you whispered against his neck, tears running down your cheeks from how proud you were of him.

“Who would have thought, right?” he joked, sighing against your neck as he took in your scent and your presence, his adrenaline starting to wear off as your presence calmed him down.

The world around you seemed to not even exist anymore, it was only the two of you locked in a tight embrace, ignoring every noise other than the steady breathing and heartbeat between you.

“I never doubted you for a second. I know what you’re capable of and you proved everything today on track” you lifted your head from his neck and took his face in your hands, not wasting another second before pressing your hungry lips against his, kissing him like he was your oxygen and your life depended on him.

And so, in those moments, after such a disastrous start to the weekend, the love of your life prevails, with you by his side.

Like always.

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REQUEST HERE

[indecisivemuch]

hii first of all luv the username cause as a libra rising, samedt ;-; i'd like to make a request for a luke x f!reader fic pls!! um, so they're best friends, and luke decides to confess to r by giving her gifts, letters, trinkets, etc. with hints about his identity, but she doesn't know who they're from. so she asks for luke's help to find out about the identity of her secret admirer. but what if there's like a mistaken identity and she thinks it's someone from the hermes cabin (maybe chris? or one of the stoll brothers idk) and luke's just all pouty but nonchalant or something, but deep down he's like 'how do i even make her see' or something (while also second guessing that maybe he shouldn't confess it's him) like fluff with tiny angst :>

Message in a Bottle

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: You got a secret admirer and recruited Luke to help you find out who they are...ignoring the most obvious option (Fluff, angst, best friends to lovers, happy ending)

Note: I'm so sorry for the six month hiatus. It wasn't by choice, I swear 😭. So many bad things kept happening that prevented me from writing (is this the writers curse people kept talking about?). Also, the request wanted only a sprinkle of angst, but I kinda got out of hand with it I think 😭 (sorry).

Word count: 4.4k (whoops)

You’ve always thought that too much of something is bad. Yet, ever since the day your life intertwined with Luke Castellan’s, you weren’t very sure about that anymore. 

The two of you arrived at camp around the same time, entering a friendship that felt like hitting the jackpot. Your early days together were something that you both treasured dearly. Every time you thought a certain time period would someday be reminisced as the golden days of your friendships, new things would come, and top it off. 

However, golden skies were soon evaded by clouds of pink hues. You found yourself noticing and appreciating small details you haven’t noticed before about your best friend. Initially, you acknowledged the growing feeling but decided that they better remain as footnotes in chapters of your life. However, fate’s design was different to your plans, because two years later, here you were: you looked at him almost in the same way a fool would look at the world with rose-colored glasses (but then again, maybe it was because you have learned to embrace and adore his flaws).

“Luke!”

The Hermes cabin counselor snapped his head towards the sound of your voice, eyes straying from his duty of the hour. A smile began forming on his face as you came to view, almost like he has always been programmed to do so. There was a certain spring in your steps. Moments like these made Luke feel like he was a minimalist because your happiness was somehow enough to guarantee his own. 

You situated yourself next to Luke on the ground, not minding the dirt.

“Hey now, I’m meant to be watching these kids train, don’t come over and distract me,” the Hermes cabin counselor warned, though he didn’t move his eyes away from you. He simply couldn’t.

Everything about you served as a distraction to him. From the soft smirk gracing your lips to the innocent tilting of your head. Every little detail about you was captivating and was equally capable of drawing his attention away from wherever it was meant to be. 

In fact, his attention issue around you was getting rather shameless because his friends have begun picking up on it and started teasing him for it. Personally, Luke doesn’t think it was his fault. His eyes just happen to draw to you in every room like second nature, while his mind short-circuited every time you were near. 

Maybe, and just maybe being rational and able to function properly has stopped being his forte…at least whenever you were around.

Your eyes moved to the group of kids that were only going to be at camp for the summer. From the looks of it, Luke has just assigned them to practice sword fighting in pairs. You then glanced back at your best friend, discreetly drinking in the sight of him. 

No doubt he did his fair share of demonstration before letting these kids go off on their own, because right now, his face was slightly flushed, veins evident on his forearm while the familiar orange shirt clung onto his body with glistening sweat.

You shook away the non-platonic thoughts and teased him, “Oh, come on, you wouldn’t pass up on talking to me. You adore me too much.” 

Damn right, he does. Luke could feel his cheeks heat up again.

“Fine. What are you here for, firecracker?”

“I got another gift,” you informed, presenting the bracelet in your hand. 

For the past month, you have been receiving small letters and gifts. This time it was a handmade bracelet with beads of your favorite colors, as well as charms that represented some of your hobbies and favorite things. It was clear that your anonymous admirer had put a lot of thought into such a small item. However, as always, there were no identities attached to it, leaving you clueless about the person behind these gestures.

Luke took your hand in his, eying the accessory that perfectly fitted your wrist. He started toying with the beads around your wrist that were shining in your favorite color.

The boy’s gaze flicked from the object to you, catching your soft and warm look. Gods, if you kept looking at him like that, he might just actually stop thinking logically. He could practically feel a confession lingering behind his lips, threatening to spew the second his ropes of restraint died.

“Anyway, I came here with an idea,” you broke the silence. “What if I try to find out who this person is? I mean, some of these gifts are quite specific. They seem to know my favorite color, flowers, and things I like. Surely, it wouldn’t be that hard to narrow it down and figure it out?”

Something shifted in your best friend’s behavior and you could feel it. There was a slight flustering look on Luke’s face as he avoided eye contact with you. It was rather strange to see the Hermes cabin counselor so fidgety. Luke has always been confident and composed, and you’d often be the one to humble down his playful cocky remarks. Half-way through looking at his behavior, you began speaking:

“You…”

Luke could feel the blood draining from his face at your facial expression, his face paling despite how flushed he was seconds ago from demonstrating sword fighting. The boy tried to regain his composure, though his attempt at seeming nonchalant failed as you touched his arm. Did you—

“You can be my inside man, talk to these guys to see if they’d slip up or something like that.” 

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” Luke hastily replied, clearing his throat.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did that come across as a suggestion? I hate to break it to you but being best friends means you sorta have to participate in my schemes,” your lips curled as Luke grunted at your words. 

“Yeah, but—”

“Luke, please…it’ll be fun,” he almost scoffed at your words and unconvincing argument. Clearly, the two of you had different definitions of fun. Just as he opened his mouth to reject your idea again, his eyes caught yours. You were looking at him in such an eager and heart-warming gaze that it made him forget what he was intending to say.

Ah, there was no denying anymore. Being rational and able to function properly has truly stopped being his forte.

“Fine,” Luke uttered, the word pricking his tongue as regret started kicking in as he accepted being your accomplice. This decision could only come back to bite him in the ass. He watched as you quickly celebrated his lack of restraint.

“Ah, you gave in quite quickly,” you jabbed.

“Shut up.”

Oh, you were going to be the death of him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Two days have passed since you got Luke to agree to help you find your secret admirer. Though, the boy must say, the last forty eight hours have been slightly comedic for him, watching you trying to track down your secret admirer…

While the real sender of those gifts was right beside you, nodding along to your every word. 

Luke’s mind trailed to the origin of this “secret admirer” idea. He started it as a way to abate the urge of straight-up blurting out how love-struck he was with his own best friend, while also testing out the waters before finally confessing his feelings for you. 

Though it was slightly amusing how the idea led him to where he was right at that moment. The Hermes cabin counselor zoned out as he pretended to speak to another boy you thought was behind those sweet gifts and letters. 

Luke used to have those feelings under rein, but self-repression only caused it to grow exponentially. Initially, the Hermes cabin counselor dismissed those beyond friendly thoughts, thinking they would eventually fizzle away. However, against his predictions, this fondness towards you became a sort of companion to him for three long years. 

Not only that, years of excessively burying these feelings six feet underground also came back to bite him in the ass because instead of having his feelings under control, they now have the upper hand. 

Sometimes he felt like a puppet, while his feelings plucked the strings. His facial expressions were forever cursed to be sculpted in raw yearning whenever around you, having no choice over how he reacts to everything related to you.

But it didn’t matter, because he was going to finally confess soon.

Luke almost burst out laughing at the way you were standing in anticipation, waiting for his intel on the most recent candidate. It was entertaining, to say the least, pretending to engage in investigative conversation before heading back to you, shaking his head in feigned disappointment. 

However, it didn’t take long before the Hermes cabin counselor started feeling sour.

Just as he made it back to your side, he watched as you started talking again, already discussing the next guy you thought might have done these things that Luke himself came up with. He eyed your in sync footsteps with a heavy heart. Despite the matching movement, he somehow still felt eternally behind. Luke was so close, yet so far away, and never quite able to grasp onto your ever moving attention. 

Did you not consider him as an option at all? Did you truly not see him as anything other than a good friend? It started stinging him knowing you were considering all these other guys as potential candidates — the faces that now haunt him in his sleep, poisoning his mind with an acidic jealousy that was eating away his common senses and fueling immoral thoughts. 

Soon enough, that same jealousy seared his mind with this overwhelming self-doubt. Luke’s foot started feeling cold at the thought of confessing. Gods, he never thought the same security behind anonymity would now make him feel desperate to be seen by you. 

“Maybe I should give up,” you concluded, mindlessly staring ahead. Your attention elsewhere gave Clarisse and Chris an opportunity to send each other knowing looks. The two have been watching you run around in circles on a goose hunt, not knowing to look right behind at the sulking figure that was trailing after you. 

Your distracted state also meant you didn’t notice the moping human situated beside you. However, hearing your declaration of ending your chase, Luke saw a window of opportunity. Maybe now was finally the time to be truthful. After all, if he doesn’t tell you, then how will you know and see him? Luke’s momentary motivation carried him through waves of dejection.

“Y/N, I need to tell you something,” Luke blurted out without much more thought or preparation, and his tone made you fully turn to him. Just as words finally formed and the boy opened his mouth to tell you—

“Hey Y/N, can I talk to you privately?” Somebody interrupted. Your eyes didn’t leave Luke immediately, but when you saw your best friend’s momentum had faltered, you turned to the stranger. It was another Hermes boy, somebody who you’ve seen around. You politely agreed and left with him. 

“So, I heard you’ve been looking for the person who’s been giving you anonymous gifts. And well, it’s your lucky day, 'cause…” the boy stared you up and down while you subconsciously took a small step back when he leaned forward. “...I’ve decided to come forward and reveal myself.”

“Okay…well, prove it” you squinted. Though your skepticism didn’t make the Hermes boy in front of you falter. Clearly, he expected this.

“The first thing you were given was a note, and…the two most recent gifts were a cassette tape and a bracelet — which was made from beads of your favorite color and charms like…” you zoned out as the boy started listing out some of your favorite activities that were indeed the charms on your bracelet. You fiddled with the bracelet that you had purposefully hidden out of his view right behind your back.

There was a pinch in your heart that signaled the last bit of hope dying. 

Oh…so Luke really wasn’t your secret admirer.

You internally scoffed at yourself. You should have known right after he said yes to helping you out with finding your secret admirer — which was originally an idea used as bait to determine if Luke was the sender or not, because if it was really him then he wouldn’t have agreed to help you out with this. However, not only did your best friend agree without much convincing from you, but he had seemed so nonchalant and unaffected as you named all these boys you wanted him to talk to. 

Perhaps this secret admirer thing was something good. Somebody has shown interest and their actions have been nothing but sweet. Those letters contained words that were eternally bound to your memories, even altering the way you view yourself for the better. Maybe you could get to know this person and move on from hopelessly crushing on your best friend.  

Halfway through, you realize you were so engulfed in your thoughts that you have zoned out to half of the things the Hermes boy was saying, and merely caught onto the last bit of his speech:

“...thinking maybe we could go on a date and get to know each other more tonight?”

Your stomach churned again, yet you nodded your head.

Move on. Move on. Move on. Move on. 

Your friends gave you questioning looks when you got back to where they were, clearly curious about what you were pulled away for.

“So…that was my secret admirer, and I’m going on a date with him tonight,” you hoped you sounded more enthusiastic than you were feeling. You tried convincing yourself at least it was good knowing definitely how your best friend actually felt about you. Quickly sitting down, you kept your eyes on Clarisse, knowing if you even looked over at Luke, he’d be able to tell straight away that something was wrong.

Your lack of focus also meant you didn’t think much of the quiet murmur from your best friend: “Sorry, I just remember I need to do something.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time. It was now the afternoon and you just finished getting ready for your date. As you were leaving, you spotted a note at the foot of your cabin. Seeing your name written on the paper, you picked it up while eying it peculiarly.

“You could be the one that I love, 

I could be the one that you dream of,

Message in a bottle is all I can do, 

Standing here hoping it gets to you.”

Your gut feeling stirred, hitting you with waves of higher certainty over suspicions you have previously had and denied.

Those lyrics were directly associated with a memory from summer two years ago. 

Luke and you were sitting by the campfire when he asked what your favorite song was. You told him the name and mentioned you hadn’t listened to it in a while because using technology devices with signals were dangerous for Demigods. The conversation slipped your mind but clearly loitered in your best friend’s mind, because two months later while on your way back to camp from your quest together, he gifted you a tape player along with a cassette of said song along with others that you liked.

You blinked away the image of you leaning on Luke’s shoulder while the two of you listened to the song together on the train back to camp.

You re-read the note again while shaking your head. Perhaps it was a coincidence. Perhaps, that Hermes boy knew the song and it was also one of his favorites. Perhaps—

Your hand started trembling around the paper. Your eyes landed on one small detail in the note: a particular handwriting choice. The rest of it matched with previous notes, but there was one singular scribbling feature you’ve never seen used before. 

Everything came crashing down and your internal eternal cycle of excuses and denial shattered.

You ran. It didn’t matter that it was raining and your attire was getting soaked. It didn’t matter at all because you were frustrated and confused. In other instances, you would have been elated at the possibility of mutual affection, but in that moment, exasperation blinded you from sensibility. 

If what you have concluded was true, then why on Earth would he allow you to go on a date with a person who stole credit for things they didn’t do? This whole time, he made you feel like a fool — for waiting that long and having hope after all that time; for asking the person you were looking for to hunt them down with you; for sulking despite having what you thought was a good opportunity to come along; for borderline going on a date with an imposter; and for not seeing it all along that it was him. 

“It’s you, isn’t it?” you called out.

Despite the rain, you could see your best friend’s figure stiffened before turning around to face you. The boy stood with his hands behind his back, not yet daring to look at you. 

“The “th”. You connected the cross in the ‘t’ directly to the ‘h’,” you presented the note in your hand, pointing specifically at the slip up that Luke had made in the latest note, not caring of the raindrops that were hitting the paper. “It’s how I write it, and you started writing it the same way a year after we got to know each other because you liked the way it looked,” you pressed further.

The expression on Luke’s face painted your theory into the truth of the situation. You felt your hand slightly shaking at the revelation.

“Why? You left anonymous gifts and notes and watched me put on this hunt — which by the way, was for you. And didn’t even say anything when a guy lied and said he was my secret admirer? Is this one big cruel prank?”

“No—”

“Oh! Well then, surely at one point in this whole thing, you felt like you should just tell me?” 

“I was going to.”

“Then where were you when I was just about to head out with that fraud? Maybe if you really liked me and really cared for me, like all those damn notes say, you would have fought for m—”

“I did,” Luke finally raised his voice, his face briefly hardened in an attempt to convey his desperation. His chest heaved, and the way it did almost made you think the anger radiating off every inch of his skin right then was directed towards you. But it wasn’t, and he knew you knew. 

“I confronted him right after he claimed that he was the one who gave you all those things.” 

Invisible ivies rooted your foot to the ground. You gulped, trying to digest the information you were given. However, it finally sunk in when Luke’s hands appeared from behind his back. It was then that you could see the bandage wrapped around his knuckles. Your breath hiccuped in both flattery and worry at the implication of what he had done. The darkness behind those deep hazel-brown orbs reflected a certain side of your best friend that you hadn’t seen before. Although, part of you felt like you wouldn’t mind it.

It made Luke’s blood boil knowing what he dedicated to you from the bottom of his heart was spoiled by ill intentions. Luke should have known better than to carelessly write all the letters and craft those gifts right on his bunk bed, rather than discreetly. 

Once again, the Hermes cabin counselor was pulled back to memories from an hour ago. The way the other boy shot remarks at Luke’s lack of precautions, boasting his wrong-doings like someone incapable of having a guilty conscience. Luke's jaw tightened as the image of the sly smirk on the other Hermes boy's face flashed in his mind, but a wave of satisfaction ran through him as he recalled how quickly that smirk was wiped away by his own fist.

They might be brothers by a fraction, but blood or not, that boy was dead to Luke the second he tried tricking you.

“And no, I wouldn’t have let you go out with a fraudster. Never,” Luke’s eyes softened. “And in case it’s not implied enough: I like you…a lot. I was going to confess but then this guy came along lying,” Luke could feel that tremor returning once more to his fist. He hated that something he built, from scratch, on the foundation of sincerity was momentarily tainted by the hands of a spineless liar. Not only that, he hated witnessing somebody so dear to him getting deceived in such a tasteless manner.

“I also…didn’t want to get hurt. It was starting to seem like you would ever consider me as more than just a friend with the way you were listing out all these other guys. So for a bit there I was considering just keeping quiet…forever” he confessed, eyes now straying away from you and down to his shoes.

You observed your best friend through a new perspective. So your initial suspicions were true. You had thought it was him because all the things you have received hinted to somebody who knew you so well, and who else at camp but Luke knew this many things about you. But ultimately, another part of you — the proclaimed “logical” side — has hyper-analyzed every split second you two have shared and deemed that Luke has not given any true signs of interest in you beyond as a friend. Thus, you dismissed the thought of Luke being your secret admirer.

You know now to trust your gut feelings more.

“Oh, Luke Castellan, you dumb ass…” you spoke softly underneath your breath, but you knew he heard you perfectly clearly from the way he slightly peered up. Your heart almost shattered at the dejected look on your best friend’s face and the thought of him burying his feelings eternally. You sure as hell would not allow that to be this timeline.

“I’ve liked you ever since the day you went out of your way and gave me that first cassette tape,” the marveled look on Luke’s face over your confession made you continue, “I guess I should have known it was you…cause gift giving has always been your love language.” It seemed like the boy was too stunned and struck frozen. However, his shell-shock state didn’t last long, because soon, your best friend’s gaze reverted back to the way he has always looked at you, only slightly more intense.

Your eyes fluttered at the sight of Luke Castellan in front of you at that moment. You were finally able to see the effect you’ve always had on him. The way his lips hung slightly agape, eyes dilated in such a way you were no longer able to see their usual color anymore, chest slightly heaving despite lack of physical reasons for such a reaction. You almost wanted to hit yourself for being such a fool and not spotting these details sooner. 

“Now, Castellan…you have two options,” you stepped closer to him, leaving an appropriate amount of personal space in between. “You either kiss me or—”

Luke grabbed your wrist with his uninjured hand and pulled you in. The same hand-guided your arms around his neck while also effectively eliminating the remaining distance between you two. 

Without hesitation, he kissed you.

Likewise, you returned the action without a second thought. You frankly didn’t care about the rain that was soaking the both of you. Kissing Luke felt like such a natural act that it felt simply like diving home. The way he held you made you feel like you were a national treasure he was so afraid of losing. Gods, you don’t think you mind doing this ever so often.

Though, there was a certain urgency in the way Luke kissed you, as if afraid you’d either vanish or you’d change your mind. You pressed your lips harder against his, hoping he’d understand you didn’t intend on leaving or having a change of heart.

A grunt escaped his throat as you kissed him harder. Oh, Luke Castellan already knew he was in immense trouble. He knew almost immediately that the concerning number of thoughts he had about you each day would only increase tenfold from this day on. He wondered if you could taste all of his unspoken words. If kissing you felt like this, he might as well sign away his heart, body, and mind to you. In fact, he’d sign anything you put in front of him without even considering the fine prints. 

Luke slowly backed you against a tree, giving you a bit of support to lean against whilst shielding the both of you from the heavy rain. He smiled into the kiss as you hummed at his action, feeling it echo against his lips. His heart tugged, almost leaping out of his chest when your hands made their way to both sides of his face, cupping it intently like holding something yours. Yours. Fuck, he loved the sound of that. 

You were the first to break the kiss. The both of you gasped for air while maintaining eye contact. The close-up view of his intense gaze drove your cheeks rosy. You could not help but admire the way his locks of wet curly hair clung onto his forehead, while raindrops fell from his face, some following the length of his eyelashes before falling — Oh, the way he glanced down at your lips at that second made you feel almost like you had the power to convince him into anything at the moment. 

“You’re my best friend…” he broke the silence.

“Mhm.”

“...but what if I want you to be more than that?”

“I can be both,” Luke’s lips broke out into a smile, and you mirrored his facial expression. He leaned his forehead against yours whilst softly rubbing his thumb soothingly against your waist.

“I’m not against that.” 

As a larger grin broke out on your lips, Luke’s eyes further softened. He realized right there and then that anything you wanted, he would not be against it. A breath of relief quietly escaped beneath Luke’s breath. He could not wait for whatever was in store for the both of you in the future.

Good thing his messages in a bottle did get to you.

-------------------------

masterlist

join my Luke Castellan taglist (or to remove yourself from)

[pygmi-says-hi]

STOP DOING THIS IN INJURY FICS!!

Bleeding:

Blood is warm. if blood is cold, you’re really fucking feverish or the person is dead. it’s only sticky after it coagulates.

It smells! like iron, obv, but very metallic. heavy blood loss has a really potent smell, someone will notice.

Unless in a state of shock or fight-flight mode, a character will know they’re bleeding. stop with the ‘i didn’t even feel it’ yeah you did. drowsiness, confusion, pale complexion, nausea, clumsiness, and memory loss are symptoms to include.

blood flow ebbs. sometimes it’s really gushin’, other times it’s a trickle. could be the same wound at different points.

it’s slow. use this to your advantage! more sad writer times hehehe.

Stab wounds:

I have been mildly impaled with rebar on an occasion, so let me explain from experience. being stabbed is bizarre af. your body is soft. you can squish it, feel it jiggle when you move. whatever just stabbed you? not jiggly. it feels stiff and numb after the pain fades. often, stab wounds lead to nerve damage. hands, arms, feet, neck, all have more motor nerve clusters than the torso. fingers may go numb or useless if a tendon is nicked.

also, bleeding takes FOREVER to stop, as mentioned above.

if the wound has an exit wound, like a bullet clean through or a spear through the whole limb, DONT REMOVE THE OBJECT. character will die. leave it, bandage around it. could be a good opportunity for some touchy touchy :)

whump writers - good opportunity for caretaker angst and fluff w/ trying to manhandle whumpee into a good position to access both sites

Concussion:

despite the amnesia and confusion, people ain’t that articulate. even if they’re mumbling about how much they love (person) - if that’s ur trope - or a secret, it’s gonna make no sense. garbled nonsense, no full sentences, just a coupla words here and there.

if the concussion is mild, they’re gonna feel fine. until….bam! out like a light. kinda funny to witness, but also a good time for some caretaking fluff.

Fever:

you die at 110F. no 'oh no his fever is 120F!! ahhh!“ no his fever is 0F because he’s fucking dead. you lose consciousness around 103, sometimes less if it’s a child. brain damage occurs at over 104.

ACTUAL SYMPTOMS:

sluggishness

seizures (severe)

inability to speak clearly

feeling chilly/shivering

nausea

pain

delirium

symptoms increase as fever rises. slow build that secret sickness! feverish people can be irritable, maybe a bit of sass followed by some hurt/comfort. never hurt anybody.

ALSO about fevers - they absolutely can cause hallucinations. Sometimes these alter memory and future memory processing. they're scary shit guys.

fevers are a big deal! bad shit can happen! milk that till its dry (chill out) and get some good hurt/comfort whumpee shit.

keep writing u sadistic nerds xox love you

[thebestsetter]

Thinking about Megumi Fushiguro only showing his vulnerable side around you.

And it's not like he doesn't trust his friends. It just happens that he doesn't feel safe showing that side of him near them. He thinks that it makes him seem weak. And he definitely doesn't want to look weak.

He didn't even use to show his sensitive side around you at first. He never initiated cuddles, kisses or even hugs. Maybe, if you were lucky, he'd wake up feeling brave and would hold your hand. Once in a blue moon.

But bear with him! It's his first relationship, so he has zero clue about what to do in this whole dating thing. He needed a patient partner, and, luckily, you were exactly that: never forced him to do anything he didn't want to do, never initiated anything without his consent first and never complained about his lack of experience. You were perfect for him.

One day, he was on his way to Jujutsu High after a difficult mission. His whole body was aching from head to toe, his head was hurting and he had some really bad cuts that were gonna scar for sure. The fight with a special curse had taken a toll on his body, even if he wasn't alone during it. And, honestly, even though he was literally limping, he couldn't think about anything else other than you.

His favorite part of the mission was the aftermath, not only because it meant that the problem he was choosen to solve was over, but because when he came to the dorms he knew you would be there, waiting for him with your arms between your thighs and a gentle smile. The thought of you always made him smile like a lovesick fool. Perhaps he was, indeed, a good old fashioned lover boy. Maybe he had, in fact, become one of the hopeless romantics he used to despise, because, on his way back to Jujutsu High, despite feeling like he was literally being eaten from the inside out because of how much pain he was enduring, he still found the strenght to squat and pick a pretty flower he saw on a bush. He handled it with so much care, his eyes literally sparkling with love when he looked at it. It was so beautiful. It reminded him of you. He imagined your reaction when he gave you the flower. Would you smile and smell it, looking for a vase to put it on your desk so everyone could see? Or would you laugh at him in an affectionate way and hug it close to you, smiling at how smitten he was for you? And you would be right (as you always were), because he was, indeed, smitten. He would burn down the entire world if you asked him to. He would do anything just to make sure that you were always smiling. He would rather be skinned alive than make you cry. You were his light, the one who guided him through darkness. He couldn't even remember how his life was before he met you, and he honestly didn't want to remember. You made everything so easier, his life had so much color with you in it and the sky seemed brighter. It looked like the birds were singing a soft melody made exclusively for you both, and everything was sunshine and rainbows. Life had never seemed so bright.

"Megumi? Did you even hear what we just asked you?"

"We're losing him. I bet he's thinking about his girlfriend again."

"Ugh, he's such a loser when it comes to her. It's so sweet it makes me sick."

"What happened to bros before hoes, Fushiguro?"

"I don't know what you idiots are on about" Megumi sighed after snapping out of his trace "And I was not thinking about my girlfriend." It's not like he's embarassed of you, but he didn't feel like being mocked by Nobara and Itadori just because he thinked about you once in a while. Maybe not only once in a while. Maybe he did think about you a lot. More than he'd ever admit.

"Suuuree. And that flower is for who? I bet it's not for me or Nobara." Itadori pointed to the plant on his hands

"Shut up." Fushiguro blushed, placing the pink flower (very carefully, may I add) on his pocket. Yuji and Nobara smirked at eachother, enjoying the abashed state their friend was at.

"As we were saying, we wanted to know if you're going with us to Shoko's. She probably has something to help us with our cuts. And some of these are nasty! I really hope they don't scar, because there's a really big one on my face. That will make my modeling job harder, I'm sure. But my pretty face will make up for it"

"I think the scar will be the least of your problems..." Itadori murmured

"What did you just say?"

"Nothing!" He sweatdropped and quickly changed the topic "Anyway, are you coming with us, Fushiguro?"

The black haired boy sighed.

"I don't think so. My cuts are not that bad. I just need a little rest. If they hurt, I'll go seek help."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, you guys can go without me"

"Okay then. Bye Fushiguro!"

"I still want to know what you said earlier."

"I said nothing, what do you mean?"

Hearing his friends playful chatter disappear in the distance, Megumi's thoughts drifted to you again. He was honestly so tired that he could only think about cuddling with you or laying on your lap.

He must have been really entretained by his thoughts, cause he didn't even notice he had gotten to your dorm before he literally knocked on the door.

"I'm coming!" He heard your sweet voice saying.

"Megumi! You're finally back! I missed you!"

No feeling could ever surpass the feeling of you holding him, your arms wrapped around his torso in a strong hug that made him weak. He hugged you back as quickly as possible and nuzzled his head on the crook of your neck, closing his eyes and ihnaling your scent that drove him half-insane. It was like a drug. You were like his drug.

"I missed you too" reaching for his pocket, he grabbed the flower and gave it to you, as if he was trying to show you that, even during his missions, he still thought about you constantly. "Here"

"No way. Gumi, you shouldn't have..." you said, taking the flower from his hands and sniffing it, a content smile on your face.

"But I wanted to." He returned your smile, grabbing the flower from your hands and putting it behind your ear, removing a strand of stray hair from your face in the process.

"Even though I'm absolutely loving this moment" you said, cupping his face "You stink. Please go take a shower."

Crap! He had forgotten to shower! Now you were going to think he was stinky! Ugh, how could he be so irresponsable?

He quickly grabbed a towel and some spare clothes he had in your dorm (he went there a lot. It was practically his second home or something like that. Actually, his home is wherever you are. So, it happened that your dorm felt like home, too) and took the fastest shower he had ever taken in his life. He just wanted to go back to your arms in less time as possible. He wanted to merge with you, wanted you to hold him so close that you became one.

"I'm finished" he said, going to your room. He had to put some bandage in his larger bruises, so he was still shirtless. That being said, you could literally see how big they were.

"Oh dear God! Megumi, did you go to Shoko's? These injuries look bad!"

"They're not as bad as they look" he said, laying beside you and staring at your eyes. He didn't know what came over him, but the next words he said made even him surprised "But I bet they'd get better if you cuddled with me"

It was the first time he was initiating something. You'd be a fool to let the opportunity go.

"Well, if you say so" you smirked, looking a him with a glint of playfullness. "I really hope I can help you with that. Not sure if I'm capable tho. Don't know if my cuddles are good enough"

"Don't act ridiculous, of course they are"

"Let's start with your treatment, then." You laughed. And oh, how he loved the sound of your laugh. He loved it even more because he was the cause of it.

Carefully, you slipped your arms around him, hugging him closer to you. Your legs linked together, and he buried his face on your boobs (he didn't even have any indecent thoughts behind that action. It just felt comfortable). And, just when he thought it couldn't get better, your hands found their way to his hair. You gently unraveled all the knots, one by one, while massaging his scalp. He let out a peaceful sigh and began moving his hands up and down your back, as if massaging you, and drawing random things in your exposed skin with his fingers, like little hearts or silly smiling faces. Everything was perfect at that moment. He felt safe with you, something he didn't feel with most people. He felt completely at ease. Nothing and no one could ever ruin that moment for him.

*Click*

Until something did. Or even better: some people did.

"KUGISAKI! I TOLD YOU TO TURN THE VOLUME OF THE CAMERA DOWN"

"IT'S NOT MY FAULT I DON'T KNOW HOW YOUR STONE AGE PHONE WORKS. MY GRANDPA HAS A BETTER PHONE THAN YOURS"

"What. Are you guys. Doing here." It came out more like a comand than a question. Megumi felt frustrated that they had interrupted your alone time, and, honestly, even though he loved his friends, he just wanted them to go away. When they barged him uninvited, you had stopped playing with his hair, and he just wanted to feel your hands on his head again.

"Well, Gojo-Sensei asked us to come check if you really didn't need Shoko's treatment. But it looks like you have everything under control. We'll be going now. Just pretend we were never here..." Nobara said, trying to run away as quickly as possible before Megumi got even angrier.

"Hey! Isn't that the flower he grabbed on our way back? I knew it was for her! Look how cute, she even put it on her desk!" Itadori clearly didn't get what Nobara was trying to do.

"You idiot! We need to go fast, or else he'll get mad! Let's show the photo to Gojo-Sensei! I bet he'll find it funny. We can also use it as future blackmail, but we need to go before he gets us." The brunette girl whispered, but it was loud enough for the whole building to hear

"I can hear you, you know?"

"You're right! Let's go!" Megumi was promptly ignored.

In a normal occasion, Fushiguro would probably go after them, trying to get them to delete the picture. But he was just so tired that he didn't even have the strenght to.

"Ugh, I hate them"

"No you don't" You smiled, booping his nose and resuming your hands' work on his hair "you just need sleep. You're clearly tired, and the mission made you hurt. You deserve to rest. I'll be here when you wake up"

"Thank you." Should he say it? Oh, screw it. You needed to know. "I love you"

"I love you too, Gumi"

Honestly, he couldn't be happier right now. And so, with the feeling of your skin close to his and your hands on his hair, Megumi Fushiguro drifted off to a peaceful slumber, with the sweetest dreams he ever had. Of course they were sweet. They were only about you, afterall.

You were his everything. He loved you. And you loved him back. That was something he would forever be proud of.

~ A/N: I need sleep.

Masterlist

[purplesuitcowboy]

cw: dubious consent, fauxcest, double penetration, free use

"I don't have any cash on me," her step-father, Thomas, told the frazzled young man at the cash register.

"But, I have this,” he said. He jostled the young women who stood beside him for emphasis. Quinn offered up weak protest from behind the ball gang in her mouth. She hated when he did shit like this. Ever since he’d figured out that she’s dabbled in selling nudes online, how he was able to tell if was her when she hadn’t even shown her face was beyond her, he’d been strong arming her into all sorts of shit under the threat of disclosing her little business endeavor to her mother.

Her mother had always been a bit of a prude and if she found out, Quinn would be kicked out of the house for sure and her sizable inheritance would be reduced to 0. She was sure that she could find a place to stay if she got kicked out but losing out on her inheritance was simply not an option. She gone along with his demands which had started as head in the parking lot of his job and had quickly ballooned out of proportion from there.

As it turned out, Thomas was a bit of a kinky bastard but he couldn’t live out his fantasies with her mother so he used her instead. Quinn was almost positive that Thomas preferred it that way. Even before their little agreement, he’d always told her that she had a body built of sex and that she’d make a man very happy one day. This had been very, very weird then but she had ignored it. He made her mother so happy that Quinn had just written off his comments as personality quirks. They hadn’t been. They were the truest expressions of his wishes and desires.

In a sick way, she was perfect for him. She was just as much as a freak as she was, got just as turned on by their slinking around as he did. She just had the good sense to be ashamed and embarrassed by it. Quinn tried not to think about the fact that she was helping her step-father cheat on her mother. Surely, finding out that this had been happening behind her back was worse then Quinn selling her nudes online. Either way, she was a coward because she said nothing and continued fucking her mother’s husband.

Quinn was trapped between her step-father’s bulk and the edge of the counter. Already, she could feel the beginnings of his hard on against her ass. Thomas held her tightly, securing her arms behind her back. He pushed her towards the counter, forcing her to lean awkwardly over it. The precarious position highlighted her generous bust which was barely being contained by her the low neckline of her short dress. Her hardened nipples could be easily seen through the thin material. She briefly made eye contact with the cashier but quickly averted her gaze, deeply embarrassed by the situation. Despite her embarrassment and shame, she feel heat begin too bloom between her legs as she felt the cashiers eyes on her tits. She didn’t have to see his face to know that he liked what he saw. In her minds eye, she could already imagine these men sharing her body, fucking her holes and filling her with their cum. She shifted, rubbing her thighs together.

"Oh, I'm not sure I can..I don't, uh,..."

"Come on," he paused, squinting at the young man's name tag. "Gordon? Damn, what did your parents give you an old man name like that for? Anyway, you're gonna pass up a fuck with a pretty young thing like my stepdaughter here. You like girls don't you, son?"

The young man nodded, rendered completely speechless by the situation. He saw a lot of weird shit during his shifts at the convenience store -especially during the late shift- but this was really taking the cake. He thought that the pair were odd when they walked in but he hadn’t thought much of it until they’d gotten to the counter.

"Well then give 'em a feel,” the old man jeered. “You're gonna make her feel bad if you don't. You're gonna make her think somethings wrong with her tits. You don't want that do you."

Thomas pulled down the top of Quinn’s dress, freeing her tits from their confines. Roughly, he grabbed one of her breasts, massaging it with his hand. Quinn whimpered in response. With Thomas’s grip on her loosened, she freed one of her arms and used it to prop herself up on the counter. Hesitantly, the cashier reached forward to gently fondle one of Quinn’s tits.

“Come on, kid!” Thomas exclaimed. “Grab it like you mean it. None of that pussy shit now.”

The cashier nodded and with renewed vigor, grabbed Quinn’s breasts, kneading them with his hands. Her eyes fluttered shut and she seemed to push her tits out as if offering herself up to him. The edge of the counter dug into her hip but she barely noticed. Gordon could feel his dick harden against his thigh as he fondled her. Her skin was soft beneath his finger tips, and her nipples were red and rosy like the cherry on top of an ice cream sunday. Looking at them, at her, made his mouth water. Emboldened, he leaned forward and took one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking it and rolling it with his tongue. Quinn moaned, drool gathering on the ball gag and dripping down her chin to her chest. Thomas watched as the cashier lavished Quinn’s tits with attention. He slipped a hand between her thighs, fingers gently rubbing against her slick folds. He loved have easy access to her pussy so she rarely wore panties around him. Another whine escaped Quinn’s lips as she tried to rock her cunt against his fingers.

“Yeah, you like that don’t you baby. Your little pussy is so wet,” he told her, voice almost loving.

He plunged two fingers into her cunt, slowly pumping them in and out. His hand was quickly covered in her juices as he continued to fuck her with his fingers, first one and then two and three. Gordon paused his ministrations and cocked his head to the side, watching enrapt as the older man fingered Quinn’s cunt. His fingers were shiny with her juices as he pumped them in and out of her hole. With every attempt to pull out, Gordon could see the walls of her cunt tightly clenched around his fingers, seemingly unwilling to let them leave the hot, wet channel. If Gordon had any blood left in his body, it had all rushed to his cock. It throbbed painfully in his shorts begging for attention. He’d been hard for a while but it was becoming almost unbearable. He let go of Quinn’s tits and pushed her out of the way so he could hop the counter to join them on the other side. Seeing movement out of the corner of his eye, Thomas stopped finger fucking Quinn’s pussy to watch the cashier volt over the counter to join them. He took a step back and, tugging at her hip with a wet hand, pulled her back to give the young man room to stand.

Eagerly, Quinn leaned towards the cashier. She braced herself on him, holding onto his hip with one hand. With her other hand, she pulled down the zip of his shorts and pulled out his harden cock. Her eyes widened as she admired its size and thickness. The cashier reached for the ball gag, pulling it out of her mouth. Her eyes locked onto his, she took his thumb into her mouth, running her hot tongue along the tip and sucking on it lightly.

“Fuck” the cashier said, breathless.

Dutifully, Quinn took his cock into her mouth. The cashier groaned, as his cock was enveloped by the wet, heat of Quinn’s mouth. She took him deep until the head of his cock tapped the back of her throat. Her eyes watered but she didn’t gag, instead, she breathed heavily out of her nose trying to steady her breathing.

“Atta girl,” Thomas told her. “Show him how well I’ve trained you. Fuck her throat, son. Don’t worry. She can take it.”

She seemed to gurgle something in the affirmative. He placed his hands on the top of her head and steadily began to fuck her throat. Thomas was right. Quinn forced herself to relax and use her. After a couple of thrust, she pulled her head away, gasping for breath, before she took his cock back in her mouth. As she serviced the cashiers cock, Thomas helped himself to her pussy. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. Giving himself a few strokes, he lined himself up with her cunt. He rubbed his shaft against the lips of her pussy, coating himself in her juices, before he slowly began to push his thick cock into her waiting hole. It didn’t seem to matter how much he fucked her, her cunt felt as tight as it had the first time that he’d had her. He groaned as pushed inch after inch into her cunt until he was seated to the hilt. The two men quickly found a good rhythm using her body, one pulling out while the other pushed in and vise versa.

Adjusting her hold on Gordon, Quinn steadied herself on one hand so she could slip the other between her legs to rub at her tender clit. It didn’t take long before she was writhing and cumming on Thomas’s cock. As she came, her cunt tightened around his shaft and Thomas quickly found himself emptying his load into her cunt. Gordon came soon after. He tried to pull out of Quinn’s mouth to cum on her chest but she held him tight forcing him to cum into her mouth. He pulled out of her lips and she opened her mouth, showing him his load on her tongue before she swallowed.

“You’re not done are you?” she asked, looking up at the cashier with big doe eyes.

The cashier looked down at her, a look of awe on his face. Surely, she was a succubus or some other worldly being. He’d never met a woman with the sexual appetite this one seemed to. He worried that she would suck his soul out of his cock and that he would happily let her do it. Sharing her with her stepfather was a bit strange, but he’d cum so hard it hardly seemed to matter at that point as long as he got to fuck her again. Thomas laughed behind her and slapped her ass, earning him a squeak of surprised from Quinn.

“Horny slut.”

“Please?” she said to the cashier, ignoring her stepfather. “I want to have your cock in my pussy.”

“He can fuck your pussy but I want to fuck your ass while he does it.”

“Uh, yeah. Okay,” Gordon responded, eyes never leaving Quinn.

Thomas pulled out of Quinn’s cunt and unceremoniously picked her up off of her feet. The head of his cock teased her asshole. She reached down and helped to push his cock into her hole, toes curling as his cock filled her ass. Thomas held her with her back again his chest and his hands on her ass. Her legs were open showing off her cunt, still leaking Thomas’s cum, to Gordon’s gaze. Thinking with his lower head, Gordon stepped between her legs and pushed his cock into her waiting hole. Between her juices and Thomas’s left over cum, Gordon’s cock slid in easily.

“Oh my god,” Quinn said with a groan, closing her eyes and learning her head back on Thomas’s shoulder.

“So… fucking…tight,” Thomas said, reeling from the sensation of her ass clenched around him with the additional tightness added from Gordon’s cock in her cunt.

Thomas and Gordon scrambled to adjust their shared grip on her body. Thomas adjusted his grip on her ass and Gordon grabbed hold of her thighs. Working together, they worked to bounce Quinn on their cocks while also attempting to thrust into her holes. It was an awkward process but it felt so good that it didn’t even matter. Quinn had never felt so full in her life. She felt as if any moment she might just combust. It was painful and uncomfortable but so pleasurable.

She opened her eyes and lifting her head off of Thomas’s shoulder, leaned forward to capture Gordon’s mouth in a kiss. He swiped at her bottom lip with his tongue and she opened up her mouth, allowing him to intertwine his tongue with her’s. He was so wrapped up in kissing her that he stopped thrusting which made it much easier for Thomas to hammer his cock into her ass. With a free hand, Quinn reached down to rub her sensitive clit. She moaned against Gordon’s lips as she came. Her body went ridged in his arms as she rode out her orgasm. Greedy, she continued to furiously rub her clit, pushing herself to another orgasm.

“Fuck,” Thomas exclaimed as he felt her clench around him. “Fuck!”

Her asshole was so snug around him that he could hardly move but it was fine, the rhythmic clenching of her hole as she orgasmed guided him to his release. He stood there for a moment, reeling from the sensation. Finally, he braced himself and slowly pulled out of her ass. His cum leaked out of her hole in the absence of his cock but he used his thick fingers to fuck it back in.

Frank no longer right behind her. Gordon lowered her to her feet and turned her, bending her over the counter so he could finish himself off. Frank’s softening cock seemed to wake back up at the sight and he stroked it idly while he watched Gordon roughly pound her from behind until he came deep in her cunt. Gordon took a step back and the two men admired the sight of Quinn’s sloppy, cum covered holes.

“So, I’m good to take the cigarettes, right?”

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Forever

Sylus x Y/N - drabble - 492 WC

Masterlist

Warnings: so much fluff, tiny pinch of angst, illusion to smut

-----------------------------

You woke up to the sun on your skin and something tickling your thighs. When you shifted slightly you felt slender fingers moving across your soft skin. You lifted the blanket slightly, red eyes meeting yours. You couldn’t help but blush seeing Sylus laying against your naked body, his head resting on your hip. His fingers drew gentle circles over you making you shiver. You shuffled slightly, Sylus groaned as he made his way back to the top of the bed. You pulled the blanket close to your chest, feeling embarrassed. 

“What is it sweetie?” he asked, fingers caressing your cheek deftly. 

You looked down, shrugging. Last night was the first time you two had slept together. It was wonderful but you felt anxious. You couldn’t help but feel like something was going to go wrong. An awful impending sense of doom. Sylus saw this in your face, you were never good at hiding things from him. 

“Honey?”  he said, his face growing slightly more serious and worried. “Last night… do you regret it?” he asked.

Your eyes shot up, “Of course not! Last night was… the most beautiful night of my life.” you blushed.

Sylus let out a small sigh of relief, “Then what is it?” he asked, holding your hand.

“I don’t know… I just feel like something bad is gonna happen.” you said, a saddened expression taking over your face.

“I’d never let anything bad happen to you. I’m not going anywhere. We can stay like this…” he said, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Like what? In bed naked?” you chuckled.

“Happy.” he said, his eyes full of hope. 

“I’d like that… Let’s be happy.” you said, smiling at him with a toothy grin.

“Forever.” he said, his evol making a ring appear on your finger.

You felt like your face might crack, you straddled him as you showered his face with kisses.

He laughed for a moment before pulling you into a deep kiss, it felt different from all the others you’d shared. Intimate, as if it was sealing a promise.

“Is that a yes?” he asked.

You leaned back as if you were thinking about it, “Hmmmm…” 

He grabbed your face, squeezing your cheeks together so your lips puckered. You stifled a laugh as he kissed you once more. “I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that you’ll never worry about anything, I promise.” he said, loosening his grip so he could cradle your face. 

“I never worry when I’m with you.” you said sitting up and letting the blanket fall, exposing your naked body to him.

His eyes never left your face, “How would you like to celebrate?” he asked, his hands ghosting over your thighs to your hips. 

“I’m sure we can find something to do.” you smiled wickedly as you pulled one of his hands from your hip, trailing it down between your legs where you wanted him most.

_______________________

Naboo's Note:

Hello all! Very short fic before I head to work. Sorry for the lack of fics lately, work has been so draining and when im not at work all i want to do is sleep but I'm hoping to publish a few this weekend :) XOXOXOXOXOXO

[fandomxo00]

Ok but imagine:

Your first autistic burnout with Logan

It was days like today that got you. It didn't happen all at once you noticed that things begin to get harder. Self care was a necessity but sometimes you just didn't have energy for it. For you it felt like time was speeding up, like you thought it was Friday but it's really Monday. Like the world spinning but your stuck where you are. That your trying to process every day and everything that happens but it's already tomorrow.

But you don't stop pushing yourself, they tell you have to push through. That you have the break time you need so why would you need anymore? That you barely taught any classes anyway, barely a teacher there. You felt selfish most of the time because if you listened to yourself you'd try to put yourself first. But no one else understands you? Unless your autistic it's hard to understand what it feels like to be burnout.

You started having bad mood swings, unable to regulate your emotions, as you usually would be to. It was hard to get around, to do just about anything because your body was tired. Your mind was fatigued, and the wrong words come out of your mouth a lot easier. Because you weren't acting normal you usually started beating yourself up because you shouldn't feel this tired. You shouldn't feel like even breathing can be hard for you. Which in these moments because a problem because of your unrelentless anxiety about having to put your mind to anything, or having to be social situations that you didn't want to be in.

But you had to show up for your job or you were going to lose it. Charles could only be so patient with you right? Even with accommodations in place, there was a certain point where you felt like in other people's brains there was no coming back, you just didn't want to get better. That you decided one day that you were just coming to become depressed. For so long doctors who didn't know you assumed you were bipolar, though you didn't have manic epsiodes. You just really intense happiness that could last for a little while but it was usually because you were in a mood swing.

Logan was instantly drawn to the moment he met you. You had the same type of darkness he recognized in himself. When you looked at him you had the same pain in his eyes that were reflected in his. The two of you had gone through very different pain and trauma, but when he learned about yours it didn't think it was any easier. Not with the mental and emotional manipulation you grew up with. The hours you spent alone and isolated because the world was simply too much for you. That you rather stay in your little bubble and never leave.

You'd been doing good for so long, you could have a bad day or a bad week, but you always got back up. Logan had never seen you practically paralyzed. You could barely keep your eyes open, you could barely move without groaning or crying, it was like your limbs were almost lifeless.

The room was pitch black, something he knew you didn't like. You always had a night light on, and now you couldn't even open your eyes long enough. You'd even covered your ears when he tried talking to you, a faint 'shh' coming out of your mouth. He felt the pain shoot through him as he saw the pain all over your face, you almost looked lifeless. Logan spoke quietly as he checked on you, before reaching for his hand and grasping on tightly while you started to cry. "What's wrong?" He whispered.

"I-is just too much." You bawled. "H-hold me tight please." Logan's arms wrapped around you without hesitation, listening to you as you laid your head against his chest, his arms tight around your body.

Eventually you needed space, feeling almost suffocated, but you didn't want him to leave. You didn't know how to communicate this, your own anxiety of just having to talk practically making you mute. You just climbed away from him, before whispering, "Stay." Laying your head on the pillow, and he laid next to you. You moved forward eventually, wanting the comfort of his hand in yours. Logan traced your features with his hazel green eyes, trying to make sure he was prepared for whatever you were feeling. Trying to understand something that he knew you couldn't explain to him right now.

All he knew was that you needed him and he wasn't going anywhere.

note: cried while writing this, i'm sorry i'm not filling in requests rn feeling a lot executive dysfunction and just trying to remain positive.

tags: @ohtobemare @jessjessmarvelandhp @chronicallybubbly @delicateholland @bubblegumholland

[simpjaes]

do you ever think jay would be able to handle a bratty person not even normal bratty literally bratty bratty also i love your fics and your writing your fr a bad bitch (sorryyy if that whole thing was weird shahushdbdhfjfi)

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

oh, yes. absolutely he would.

jay is so daddy to me but like, not in a mean dominate way. more like in a "i love her so much, i'll let her get away with anything even if I am expressing disappointment in her." kind of way. he would haaaaaaaate to see you cry, but sexually....a different story.

he's a very domestic daddy, and a service dom for sure. if you're being bratty, he's gonna give you some push back on what you want but just a couple of blinks from big glossy eyes is gonna have him buckling.

aside from that though, deep down he loves when you're bratty. he'd get a little possessive, maybe fuck a little rougher than usual because he does get annoyed and pissed off, but you can still feel all the love he has for you through all of it, and he'd also 100% do hella aftercare if he does happen to be a little more of a mean dom from time to time.

punishment for you is usually pushback while actively fucking [not giving you what you want], not giving you sex at all [he gets more mad bc you just get more bratty and start fucking yourself in front of him], restraining you and leaving you on the bed while he ignores you, etc.

MAN I JUST LOVE JAY. could talk about him all day with hearts in my eyes omg

[merakiui]

I’ve seen bits and pieces about your take on yandere Trey but i need to hear more of your thoughts on him. Your interpretation of yandere Trey seems so different from all the other interpretations I’ve seen of him… like you said he was the scariest yandere at one point, and then the post about chenya riddle and Trey — I need to know

*cracks knuckles* >:) here are my thoughts!!

He's definitely one of the scariest twst yans (to me)! Trey's character is so fascinating because, compared to some of the more powerful/influential characters, he seems like Some Guy. What's so frightening about Trey is that he doesn't have to use violence or threats. Rather, it's the way he can twist his words to keep you constantly questioning yourself and your reality. He has the perfect boy-next-door sort of charm that lulls you into that false sense of security, and you'll never truly know the extent of his manipulations because of how flawlessly he can gaslight you. And everyone else will think you're crazy because Trey's not like that. He's gentle and helpful, everyone's big brother! Maybe you're the crazy one... (Are you??)

His UM is quite literally just a more sophisticated, magical version of gaslighting (lol). ^^;;;; the way that can be used against you and you might not even know. Trey plays it off as a parlor trick in book one when he changes the flavor of food to suit everyone's preferences, but it's seen to be quite formidable against Riddle's magic. If a UM can overwrite the very overpowered Riddle's magic....... even if only for a few minutes,,, that's no mere parlor trick.

Perhaps the horror stems from how very easy it is to fall into the trap. Trey isn't a yandere you approach with fear because there's nothing about him that would give you valid reason to stay away. It's understandable for someone like the tweels or even Vil because they have that air of intimidation about them, but Trey is so sweet and kind. He couldn't hurt a fly. He's so easy to approach.

Trey is not very combative either. If you come to him with an issue (perhaps an attempt to call out his behaviors) he'll smooth things over in such a way that you come out of that conversation wondering what you were even trying to talk to him about. He understands where you're coming from, he knows you're just stressed, everything will sort itself out, let's all just calm down, etc etc., all while over tea and some freshly baked pastries.

Also,,, gaslighting is such an effective and dangerous form of emotional abuse because of how successful it can be. When it's happening, it doesn't seem very damaging and, rather, it can feel as if everything Trey is telling you is correct. After all, why are you getting so worked up? You must be exaggerating these feelings of yours! It sounds so logical coming from his mouth, and why would Trey have any reason to lie to you? You're so wrapped around his finger and you don't even know it. Your world is so closed off, crafted by the things he tells you. You may think you have control, but at the end of the day it's Trey who keeps you hooked on his line like you're nothing more than an impressionable fish.

Omg and the infantilization....... he tells you it's just a habit of his from looking after his younger siblings, and he plays it off so casually and jokingly every time. You begin to wonder if it really is just a bad habit of his. But then there should be no reason for him to treat you like you can't do things you're fully capable of doing. You ask yourself 'what if' all the time. What if you don't have Trey there to help? What if you truly can't do that thing? What if Trey was right?

You're not a child; you're not codependent. But you always feel this way around Trey, and that's a snare that's difficult to shake. Especially when Trey so smoothly hammers that narrative into your head.

[petr1kov]

i swear most berserk fans are the dumbest motherfuckers alive in general but especially so when it comes to analyzing griffith's character and motivations. everything that happened in the eclipse is usually just tied into a neat uncomplicated bow of 'griffith always was a sociopath with no feelings and everyone in the band of the hawk were always seen as disposable tools to him', which is such a poor reading of literally everything that happened prior to it that it drives me insane.

the eclipse is meant to be a huge sacrifice. it is a grotesque and violent ritual that has griffith completely shedding his humanity and becoming something monstrous by cutting ties with everything and everyone that made him feel human in the worst possible way. what would be the point of it if griffith was already a fully-fledged monster from the beginning? why did griffith even need to experience visions to be convinced if he was always ready to sell his comrades for a corn chip?

even the scene where he explicitly states that 'only [guts] made me forget about my dream' often gets misconstrued as being just another expression of his narcissist ego, with claims that griffith became inconsolable and reckless after guts left him only because he got mad that lost control of his 'tool', since he felt like he needed him to achieve what he wanted. obviously, griffith's egotistical nature is central to his character and plays a part in this as well, but it's still very clear that it's not just resentment that motivates him in the aftermath of guts leaving. as he stated, guts made him forget what he wanted to achieve at all, HIS DREAM, for a while - and when he thinks of that, he remembers the good times they shared, not the bad. he simply couldn't envision a future that didn't include guts, after a point in his life, and that feeling had nothing to do with any pragmatic assessment of the pros and cons of having a powerful fighter like him on his side, and he knew that. it was the depth of his attachment to guts that terrified him.

i feel that people tend to dance around the issue of griffith's emotions in general because they feel that acknowledging that he felt anything other than possessive entitlement to the members of his crew (or even just to guts) is almost the same as excusing his actions, but it's the opposite for me. believing that griffith was simply born incapable of feeling love and affection for anyone is as good as believing that he essentially had no true free will in the events that led to the eclipse; if they were all interchangeable pawns on his hand, how would he ever hesitate to sacrifice them when the time came? how could a sacrifice like this even hold any meaning, really? believing that is fully conceding that he was always destined to become femto no matter what, which runs counter to the theme of free will in the face of causality that drives the series. where is the tragedy in that? where is the betrayal? it hurts because it could, should have been different, and griffith made a terrible choice - but only because he had a choice to make in the first place.

[haologram]

araneae 🕸️ k.sy (teaser)

🕸️ synopsis: when you realize your friend (with benefits) actually has feelings for you, a tangled web of lies and avoidance ensues. 🕸️ genre: friends with benefits au ; big dummy dumb idiots to lovers because it's the only trope ever ; ta x student dynamics ; fluff, angst & eventual smut (surprise?) 🕸️ pairing: zoology ta!kwon soonyoung x marine biology major!reader | side pairings: joshua hong x sana minatozaki ; vernon chwe x roh jisun (fromis_9) ; mentions of reader x yuta nakamoto (nct) 🕸️ word count: 2.8k | full fic: i don't fuckin' know but hopefully under 20k. 🕸️ rating: 18+. minors do not interact i beg. 🕸️ warnings: mentions of knife play (none involved), alcohol, mentions of protected sex (dw it'll get freaky later), mentions of cum, loss of virginity talk, mentions of marijuana (stoner!hoshi be off the honeypacks!!), they're naked for most of this snippet. a lot of parties later in the fic, just wait LOL. 🕸️ what to listen to: good kisser - usher ; magic stick - lil' kim ; more to come.

LAST YEAR – Sunday, October 23.

You were never opposed to a nice Halloween party. Lots of thematic drinks, stupid boys dressed as Ghostface trying to explore knife kinks, and girls going all out with their glitter make-up and tinsel in their hair for the optimal fairy costume. 

You loved a good Halloween party, music blasting out of the speakers that were stolen from the AV Club by the softer version of the Beta Tau Omega brothers. Dancing with strangers in sweat-soaked facades, and waking up with smeared face paint all over your neck and shoulders from whatever disguised hook-up you'd taken home that night.

Last night's rager had to have been one for the books, because you have no idea how you ended up in this absolute mess of a bedroom – owned by none other than your close friend, Kwon Soonyoung. The same Kwon Soonyoung who also happens to TA the class you've put off taking for the last two years, and are set to start taking the upcoming spring semester.

The same Kwon Soonyoung that was related to the wife of the Dean, and the same Kwon Soonyoung that showed up everywhere stoned or ready to get stoned. The very same Kwon Soonyoung that made infused pre-rolls and edibles for nearly the entire campus…for free. Even you could see that was a horrible business call, and you were a Science major.

Soonyoung who helped people sneak kittens into their dorm rooms and make homes for them under lofted beds. Soonyoung, who taught a dance class and self-defense class back to back, so he was never free until after nine at night. Soonyoung who made hanging out seem like he was trying to get into your pants because he was just naturally flirtatious (and somehow, still absolutely bitchless.)

Soonyoung who you've kissed twice since meeting him two years ago, both times at Halloween parties hosted by his stupid fraternity. Soonyoung, who has had his hand up your skirt twice before someone interrupts you by asking if he has any weed at hand. He always does, and it's always in his car or his bedroom. He always goes, and a part of you, no matter how into it you may be, knows it's for the best. He keeps his circle small, of friends that is. You were added to the mix sometime after your first Halloween party (and first kiss together) your  freshman year, when he slammed into you in the middle of the economics hallway, breaking your laptop in the process. He'd felt so bad he took you to Best Buy that same night and shelled out two grand for a new one and even invited you out to lunch the next day.

He did not remember making out at all. To be fair, neither did you until the digital photos came back and he texted you a picture of the two of you kissing against the Beta Tau insignia on the wall. You were so embarrassed you avoided him for a week after, but he quickly forced you out of your dorm for a movie night. The two of you became fast friends, bonding over silly little things and enjoying each other's company – but it didn't stop the rumors from flying that you were a freshman stealing a guy from the sophomores. 

You remember that he adamantly denied any and every dating rumor flung your way, and even went as far as distancing himself from you for a bit – but when you tried to pull the same move he had earlier that year, he said maybe it was best for the two of you to remain friends from a distance. You didn't speak to him for the rest of the year, choosing to spend your time with friends your age and even dating a transfer student named Yuta Nakamoto, who was also in Soonyoung's year.

When word got around, Soonyoung was pissed – but didn't attempt to rekindle your friendship. He still followed you on Instagram, and still felt a bit of anger puddle in his stomach as he liked photo after photo of the two of you together, biting his tongue at the empty smile you held by his side.

This continued well into summer, and he saw the two of you take a trip to Jeju Island together, before breaking up the following week. Soonyoung heard from your friend, Nagyung, that he was transferring back and neither of you wanted to try long-distance. 

The following school year, he watched as you got recruited by sorority after sorority – eventually joining his frat's sister sorority, Alpha Sigma Delta. You hardly had to rush, the girls actively pushing you to pledge and you were far too nice to say no. 

You saw him again for the first time at the Halloween party planning, when you and your fellow pledges were tasked with helping the frat pledges in hauling in liquor. You weren't very happy about it, but Soonyoung whisked you away without a word from you, telling everyone that he needed your help with a certain task.

That task? "Can we talk?"

And you did. You talked, and talked, and talked. He even left at one point to get drinks for the two of you, returning to you fishing through his bag of pre-rolls for the ones infused with lemon balm. He smiled, telling you they were in his car, and you rolled your eyes at it.

You kissed at that party, too. It went further this time – the two of you on Seungcheol's balcony. The idea had been to go up to the roof and get crossed, but it seems a rather tipsy Soonyoung had other ideas. You didn't mind it, in fact you encouraged it – you slipped his hand up your latex dress, you let him slip your panties down your legs. "Hey, Hoshi! Do you have any pre-rolls?!" 

Just as he'd started undoing his pants.

"Fuck, I'm sorry baby."

"It's fine."

You passed out in his bedroom that time, too tired to go back to the sorority house with your sisters. You got out of clean-up, and Soonyoung left you a kimbap roll and an electrolyte drink on his nightstand, with a note asking how you got there 'haha.' 

It hadn't been fine. Again, neither of you remembered this happening until digitals were printed. And it was freshman year all over again – except this time, Soonyoung stuck around. Soonyoung defended you tooth and nail, and even dropped a few of his friends that bad-mouthed you. When you asked him about it, he shrugged, "Nothing wrong with kissing your friends every once in a while." So, here you are. Again.

The third year in a row you and your stupid friend have made out, and somehow, you're in his bed. There's no other explanation as for why your underwear is across the room, hanging off his lamp and why his head is gently laying on your chest. There's literally no other explanation.

"Soonyoung." You rasp, patting his cheek. He doesn't stir, but pouts into your bare breast. "Soonyoung." You speak louder, shaking him slightly as he peels open one of his eyes. 

"Yeah?" It takes him a moment to realize that it's you, sprinkled with glitter from his eye look last night and practically doused in his saliva.

"Oh, fuck." He just furrows his brows, rolling off your chest with a groan. He sits up at the edge of the bed, surveying the room before realizing he's got no pants on. "Son of a bitch. Did we…Yup. Yup, it's right there." His painted fingernails point at the discarded condom atop his dresser, flung hastily in a half-asleep attempt, most likely. You sigh, letting your head fall back on your pillow with a hmph. He does the same, his fingers only reaching up slightly to close the blinds with a jerk of the liftcord.

"You think it was good?" You ask with a small smile, and he snorts. "It was with you, I doubt it would've been bad."

Silence permeates the air again, before he sees your bare bottom half also covered in glitter. You have a tattoo on your hip that you didn't have when you first met. It's a stick-and-poke kitten. "Nice tattoo." "Thanks, I got it on Jeju Island." "When you and Yuta went?" "Yup." "Cool." He sits up, peering down at you with tired eyes. "What'd you see in that guy, anyway?"

"Hm?" "Yuta." "Oh. You want the truth?" It's like being nude in front of each other isn't a big deal. It's like having slept together after years of being in limbo means nothing. It's all so normal, the way you allow him to practically eye fuck you.

"I was sad you stopped being my friend." He blinks at you, watching the way you carefully pick at a thread loose in his comforter. You pull it out, discarding it behind you with a soft smile. "Does that answer your question?" "You fucked another guy because I stopped being your friend?" He asks incredulously, and you shrug. "Not just, but it was a large reason."

"You lost your virginity to him." His eyes are wide, and you shrug once more, nodding your head. "Yup." "Did he make you cum?" "Soonyoung-" "Did he?"

You sigh, patting his comforter. "Not the first couple of times, no. He got better at it, though. It was decent." 

Nodding, he clears his throat.

"Do you think I-" "Maybe. I don't know. I don't remember much, just the Pink Whitney Mingyu gave me." "Mingyu does love his Pink Whitney." You flip onto your back again, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling. Tucking your hands behind your head, you speak again. "Do you think I went down on you?" "There's lipstick on my tip." "What color?" "Uhh…wine red." You wipe a finger across your bottom lip, the small amount of residue a bloody, Cabernet red. "Hm. Checks out."

The air feels…comfortable.

"Wanna shower?" "Yeah." "Can I shower with you?" "Yeah, Soonie."

The two of you stretch simultaneously, before rolling to the side of the bed and standing up. He grabs the discarded condom off the dresser, holding it like a used tissue and taking it to the bin. You dig through his dresser for a towel, and he fishes out something for you to wear.

"Boxers okay?" "Hm, I prefer briefs." "On me or on you?" "Your underwear choices are your business." He holds up a pair of Spiderman briefs. You bite back your laugh and nod silently, extending your hand for them.

He disappears into his bathroom, flickering lights on and turning the shower head on. "Hot?" "Boiling." "Got it."

The both of you get in, and you close your eyes as the water pelts your back. Soonyoung says nothing as he moves your hair off your shoulders and away from your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You should've asked me." He mumbles, reaching for the shampoo in the caddy behind you. Peeling your eyes open, you look up at him with a confused stare. "Asked you for what?" He shrugs, holding the shampoo bottle upside down over his hand and squirting some out. "I would've made you cum the first time." You snort, shoving his chest lightly. "Yeah, well…you didn't. It's fine." "This isn't weird to you?" "What? Showering together?" "After fucking, yeah." "Could be worse." "How?" "I could be that girl you've been flirting with since last year, wondering when you're going to text her back." "Who? Yujin?" "Yeah." "I'm not flirting with her, what made you think that?" "Stolen glances, flirty touches, you give her pre-rolls all the time." He rolls his eyes as he cards his fingers through your hair, his dull nails scrubbing your scalp gently. Your eyes flutter shut, and he huffs. "I give everyone pre-rolls." "Because you're a horrible business magnate." 

"No, because I'm nice." You smile without opening your eyes, your hands reaching out to touch his chest. His body feels good under your fingertips, you realize. "Are you mad you don't remember any of it?" "Furious." He mutters, gently tilting your head back to wash the soap out. You can't see the way he's looking at the sweet slope of your neck, just barely making out small nips of his teeth across your throat. Your necklace hangs nicely. The rest of the shower remains silent, as he carefully washes you before himself. His attention to detail is insane, the way his fingers hold the washcloth taut so he can feel every inch of you. He has to commit this to memory.

After, you're drying your hair with a random t-shirt he gave you. He remembers you told him that towels can be too rough for your hair texture sometimes. It's only when you're brushing your teeth with a brand new toothbrush he pulled from his cabinets that he speaks. "Let me change my bedsheets." "Don't wanna lay in the sin of fucking your friend, do ya?" The navy blue sheets are quickly replaced by ones with light grey ditsy floral print, and his comforter is shoved off and replaced by a few throw blankets. He watches as you change his pillowcases, only looking away when he hears his phone ping.

Msg From: Cheol [9:32am] hosh [9:32am] who is the girl in ur room and is she missing a pair of cat ears

"What was your costume last night?" He asks, and you snort. "I was a sexy witch." He smiles to himself as he picks up his phone.

Msg To: Cheol [9:33am] not missing a pair of cat ears [9:34am] and it's y/n

Your head snaps up when you hear a pair of feet thundering up the stairs, followed by silence. You give him an odd look, only to hear excited giggles down the hall and the pitter-patter of two adult men coming towards Soonyoung's room. You cross your arms as you hear the door creak open, an expectant look on your face as Jeonghan and Seungcheol's noses appear through the crack. "Hey, Y/N. Fancy seeing you here." Jeonghan remarks sweetly, and you just roll your eyes.

"He wasn't bluffing." He whispers to Seungcheol, receiving an annoyed huff from Soonyoung. "If you're done intruding on my personal business, I'd appreciate it if you left. The pledges still need to clean up last night's mess." Jeonghan gives you a wry look. "Can I say something and you don't get upset?" "If it's about sex, I will punch you in that pretty face of yours." You say pointedly, fluffing the pillow in your hand before throwing it onto his bed. Jeonghan purses his lips, nodding before sliding out from under Seungcheol. He nods his head, a satisfied look on his face. "Have a good…don't fuck too loud, okay?" Soonyoung barely misses Seungcheol's face with the charger he throws across the room, his giggle being heard in the hallway as he barrels down the stairs.

"Idiots." He huffs, running a hand through his damp hair as you flop onto the bed. "You don't mind if I stay here a bit? My head's killing me."

He lays down next to you, a sigh escaping his lips.

"You okay, Soonie?" Turning only his head, he scans your face. Tired eyes lined with thick lashes, plump lips covered by the Aquaphor in his bathroom. Slightly unkempt brows and your shoulder tattoo peeking out from the collar of his shirt on your frame.

"Kitty?" You grimace at the pet name, one he christened you with when the two of you met. He'd been dressed up as a cowboy, and dancing with a skeleton that was stolen from the comparative anatomy students (with the help of Junhui, of course.) He also had a lit joint between his fingers, one that sprinkled ash over your newly healed shoulder tattoo and made you yelp in pain.

"Shit, I'm sorry, kitty." He quickly put it out in a nearby ashtray, dusting your shoulder of any ash residue. "It's fine, it's fine. Just…can I get a hit?"

"Yeah?" He sits up, leaning against his bed frame before looking down at you.  "Would it be weird if I asked to try again?"

You glance up at him, an amused smile playing on your lips. "Try what again, exactly?"

He clears his throat, a beet red blush coating his cheeks. "You said Yuta didn't make you cum. And we don't know if I made you cum. So…can I have a redemption round?"

You've sat up at this point, a small laugh falling from your lips as you push your hair back, "You want to fuck me?"

"I can just go down on you, if, uh…if that's what you'd prefer." He stutters, mentally cursing himself. You glance at him, eyes scanning his face. "And we're still friends after this? You won't dump me?"

"I won't. I promise. Cross my heart, kitty." He holds his pinky finger out, insinuating you link yours. Sighing, you do just that. "Fine. Hop to, I want breakfast."

haologram © 2024 || no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[leiascully]

Can I request a smutty/angsty prompt? Mulder initiating more sex because he’s secretly having a bit of baby fever which opens a very serious (fight/?)conversation about having another kid. Set anytime after the truth

Here you go. 1500 angsty words; rated M for sexual situations. Trigger warnings for discussions of infertility, pregnancy, medical interventions, PTSD/trauma, etc.

They’re in South Dakota, maybe, in a small dingy motel room on the bad edge of town. But it doesn’t matter, because they’re together. They’re finally out of the car and she’s pushing her hands under the hem of his t-shirt and he’s unbuttoning her jeans and it hasn’t been that long since they made love (days? A week?) but she’s nipping at him like she wants to devour him. Time loses its meaning on the road, and so does space. But they’re here, both of them, and that’s all he cares about.

He kisses her breasts. They’re different than they were before: softer and lower, the shape of them changed. The breasts that nourished his son. He worships them with his mouth and his hands. She makes wanting little sighs and kisses his head. She’s quieter now than she used to be. Less free, maybe. In his apartment, she used to scream her pleasure. It’s not like the neighbors weren’t used to it.

Her nails prick at his skin. She’s grown them long, painted them red. He doesn’t like it much, but it does disguise her. And he likes the feeling of them scratching welts down his back. After everything, maybe he shouldn’t enjoy the pain, but it’s on his terms now.

He lays her out on the bed. The comforter is scratchy and thin under his belly as he wallows between her thighs. She moans and tangles her fingers in his hair. He’s grown it out. She brushes it tenderly off his forehead sometimes, but it’s better when she tugs at it like she’s doing now. He still can’t feel everywhere. Nerve damage from whatever happened to him. But the scratches, the prickling in his scalp, the slightly damp skin of her palm wrapped around his cock: he can feel those things.

She writhes under him, murmuring his name. He slides up her body. Her body is different too. Her belly is softer, rounder, striped with silver where their son stretched her skin.

He wants to have another baby with her. He wants to be there this time, to hold back her hair when she vomits and feel her belly swell under his splayed fingers. He wants to spill himself inside her. The urge is primal, nearly overpowering. His woman, splayed open under him. He loves her incandescently. He wants to fuck her through the cheap bed until her body goes limp with pleasurable exhaustion.

This urge to plow into her, to put his child inside her, terrifies him. The veneer of civilization is already rubbed thin by their transient life. They don’t need a baby with them in the car. But he wants to hear her call out his name, and he wants to lose himself in her body, and he wants to see the look on her face when she realizes they have been granted another miracle.

He prowls up her body to kiss her mouth. She licks the taste of herself from his tongue, greedy for his kisses. She’s in a wild mood. She sucks at his lip, lips at his nipple. He pushes two fingers into her, thumbs at her clit, makes her squirm under him. She gasps. He takes his cock in hand, rubs it between her folds. The slick head of it rests against her entrance. He can feel himself thick and heavy with need.

“Mulder, wait,” she says. “We need a condom.”

“I thought we could do without one,” he says, withdrawing just a little. His shaft slides against her clit and she arches into him automatically.

“I’m out of birth control,” she says. “We can’t.”

“I thought maybe,” he starts to say. “I thought we could try.”

“Try?” She looks up at him, puzzled, and then her eyes widen. She wriggles out from under him and sits on the bed, pulling her knees up and locking her arms around them. “Mulder, no. We can’t.”

“Why not?” He rolls onto his side. “I know it’s not the best idea.”

“Do you have any idea what I went through?” she asks. Her voice is quiet but it trembles. “Mulder, do you have any idea?”

“I know the birth wasn’t what you wanted,” he says, and trails off. Because the truth is that he doesn’t know. He wasn’t there. He knows she knows that. He was gone, and she suffered alone: not just the nausea but the fear. But he suffered too.

“I didn’t know if I would give birth to a child or a monster,” she says. “Was it a miracle, Mulder, or some strange experiment? I love him - I loved him - beyond all reason, but I still can’t answer that question. Every day, I was afraid. I was sick with it. Every minute I carried him in my body, I was afraid for his life and mine. And I was alone.”

“You wouldn’t be alone,” he offers.

“How can you ask me this?” There are tears in her eyes. “How dare you ask me this now?”

“I thought….” He shakes his head in frustration. “It doesn’t matter.”

She’s crying now, tears rolling silently down her cheeks. One hand is pressed to her belly. The other still clutches her knees.

He rolls out of bed. The moment is gone. His cock is already drooping. He drags on his underwear and a pair of shorts, finds his t-shirt. His socks and sneakers were discarded on the floor in a more hopeful moment. He picks them up and puts them on again.

“Going for a run,” he says, as if it matters what he says, and then he’s out the door.

It’s hot. The air shimmers above the road, and there’s nowhere to run but the shoulder. He starts too fast, relishing the way the air burns in his lungs. He doesn’t have the stamina he used to, but fuck if he’s limping back early. She needs her space. So does he. There’s a chasm between them he’ll never be able to bridge with words. He might have done it with his body if he hadn’t been so rash.

It takes two. But his yearning doesn’t stack up against her avulsion. He remembers the toll the IVF took on her. She can’t learn that William’s conception can’t be replicated outside of a lab. He understands that. She can’t lie on her back with her legs up, stare at a pregnancy test that refuses to reveal the results she wants, track her cycle. He remembers the shots and the mood swings. He remembers the way disappointment crushed her. He remembers the way her back ached the last month of her pregnancy, how she couldn’t sleep.

But god, he wants a child. He wants a family, with her. He wants their child. William.

Leaving felt like erasing their tracks. It felt like starting over. For a moment, he let himself be overwhelmed with the potential of it. Now he plods down the road, legs heavy, and begins to understand the nerve he’s touched. He’s angry, and he’s aching, and he’s mourning the peace they might have known. But she’s aching too, and furious, and guilty, and ashamed.

There’s a hole in their hearts where their family might have been. He can’t fill it. Instead, he runs away, across the baking plains. He runs until he’s tired and then he turns around.

The door is unlocked when he gets back to the motel. Not safe, not their protocol, but he left the key with her. He’s sweaty and covered in dust. He stinks. He’s exhausted. The room is dark when he enters. He looks for her in the bed. She isn’t there. For a moment, panic shoots through him. But the car was in the parking lot - he leaned against it to stretch.

As his eyes adjust to the dim, he realizes she’s curled up in the armchair farthest from the door, her feet tucked up under her. Her lashes are stuck together from crying. Her sleep looks uneasy but deep. His heart breaks a little at the sight of her. It hurts, too, to know he hurt her, and it hurts to feel his own pain unacknowledged. But the ties that bind them have been snarled and knotted for years. He knows the bite of that rope as well as he knows his own heartbeat.

He slides the comforter from the bed and tucks it around her. She murmurs in her sleep but doesn’t stir. The air conditioner rattles and hisses. The air in the room is icy as the blood in his veins. He gazes down at her. She’s made herself so small. That’s his fault. That hurts. Another cut to add to his thousand. Death has already come for him and spit him back up. Now he’s a walking wound, and so is she. He forgets that sometimes, or tries to. It didn’t work this time.

She hasn’t woken by the time he’s finished his shower. He should go find them some dinner, but he’s weary to the bone. He slides into the lumpy bed alone and pulls the thin sheet over himself. It’s cold, but he’s been cold before. He knows the lonely chill of the grave. It’s unwelcome, but so familiar he’s almost comforted. The sheet is a shroud. The room closes them in, a coffin for two, suffocated by the once-fertile earth of their dreams.

[verstappentime]

divorce verse for your wednesday <3 this is from after max & dan break up. (the rest of this verse is here) (the scene previous to this will get finished but this is what i have today <3) The first night Daniel’s gone, Max walks into a fucking wall trying to go to the bathroom.

It’s happened before, because his depth perception is awful and worse in the dark and worse sometimes than others, but usually he hits knee-first or something. Nope, just a wall right to the orbital bone. 

It’s not something Daniel could have saved him from, but it still doesn’t make it any easier. Daniel’s not there to be woken up by his cursing a blue streak and ask if he’s alright, to sit him down and put ice on it and make him feel less pathetic.

His head is throbbing, in a normal person kind of way. He’s going to have a massive goose egg. He finally gets to the light switch, very, very carefully, and tempts himself to go down the hall with the promise of crying about it afterward.

It’s easier, with the bedroom light illuminating the way. He makes it there and back okay. 

He needs to not call Daniel, but he’s groggy and worked up and he gets confused at night and– he’s just going to lose it if he can’t talk to someone. 

Daniel picks up on the first ring. He must still have Max excluded from do not disturb. Must be sleeping with the ringer on.

“I walked into the wall,” he says, before Daniel can get anything out. 

“What?” He can hear Daniel sitting up, sheets rustling. He should be scolding Max for calling in the middle of the night. He doesn’t. “Are you hurt?” 

“I hit my head. Or, like, my face. Both.” Max touches where the bruise is forming on his head. He kind of forgot what hurt that’s not coming from the inside feels like. He pokes it again. He’s lucky he hit on bone, probably, and that it wasn’t a corner and he’s not bleeding. “I don’t know,” he says, voice cracking. 

“Okay.” Daniel’s all calm. This kind of stuff never bothers him. Max wants him to be here. “You sound alright. You weren’t, like, running, right? Do you have a headache?”  “No. I think– I think I am okay.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, just to see how bad it hurts. “This is shit, Daniel.”

“We need to get you some of those lights you can turn on with your voice, yeah? I’ll look in the morning.” We. He’s going to have to stop that. Not right now.

“I can– I’ll do it.” 

“I’ll remind you, then. What do you want to do right now?” 

“I don’t know,” Max says again. “I don’t want to get up again.” He presses his knuckles to his teeth, something awful in his chest. “I feel shit that I called you already.” 

“I don’t care. It’s good you did. I was scared that you wouldn’t. Makes me feel better.” Daniel pauses. “Not that I’m like, glad you walked into a wall.” 

“It sounds very stupid when you say it out loud.” He knows it’s his fault, but he can’t help it: “What am I going to do? Just call you always?” 

“You can, baby.” Daniel never tells him no. Daniel let him leave because he never tells him no. “You have other people, though. They’ll be happy to answer. You can call your mum or Victoria or Charles. But also me, if you want to.” 

Max wants Daniel to tell him that’s unfair. But the idea of being cut off from the only person that really knows what it’s like for him makes him want to throw up. Charles would laugh at him for this one, even though he wouldn’t mean to. Max says, “I think I want to go back to sleep.” 

“Good idea. You want me to stay on?” 

“No. That will be very boring for you.” Max lays down, turning over on his side, his back to where Daniel should be. “Are you sleeping too?” 

“Yeah, Maxy, I’m going to.” 

“Okay. Then we will both go to sleep.” 

“Yeah,” Daniel says, all gentle. “I’m going to text you tomorrow, okay? It’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me after that. But I’ll remind you about the lights and ask about your face.” 

“That’s fine.” He can’t know if he’ll remember, and he really does not want this to happen again, and– and now he knows for sure he’ll hear from Daniel tomorrow. 

There’s a beat where neither of them know what to say, but Daniel’s the bravest and he says, “I love you. Goodnight.” 

“I– Me too, Daniel.” He can’t lie. Not about that.

[culturalsillystine]

This ended up longer than I intended.

Here's a long rant about Zero Day, denial, and finding comfort in your sickness.

.

One of the things that's stuck with us since our first time watching Zero Day is when Cal says something about not being able to cure someone who has nothing wrong with them.

Some people get so deep into their illness that they start to tell themselves, "There is nothing wrong with me." It's self-soothing, in a way. You have nothing to fix if there's nothing wrong, right? And you get sucked further and further into it until it's all you know, so it becomes normal. There's truly nothing wrong with you, because it's your norm, and how could that be wrong?

And then you get worse and worse until something happens. It could be something bad, such as Cal and Andre's case. Something people would usually never consider. But when you're sick, you're sick, and things don't make sense, and it doesn't matter what people would or wouldn't consider. Because you would, and you're normal. There's nothing wrong with you.

That, or you get help. And Andre briefly mentions something, I think it may be before what Cal says? I'm not sure, correct me if I'm wrong. But he mentions something, says that even if they did get caught and got put in counseling or something, they'd get out, and they'd still do it.

And that leads you to wonder, is that true? Is that truly what would happen? Or are they feeling so untouchable and so powerful that they think NOTHING can stop them. Not even professional help.

And we'll never know. That's what I enjoy about Zero Day, there's so much we never know. We just have to trust these two boys who will present you with their truth, not the truth.

We see very little of Cal's family, and what we do see isn't bad. What we see of Andre's is.. conflicting. His family means well, but he's an 18 year old boy who likes guns and doesn't seem to get enough appreciation from his father. It writes itself, really.

We see none of Andre interacting with his peers, we only see Cal during the prom scenes. And the prom scenes are loud and irritating and awkward. He doesn't really try to be social, he takes the next possible chance to go to the only person he really bothers socializing with; Andre.

They're both very sick. Whether it's the same thing, something similar, or something entirely different, who's to say, but they find comfort in each other. They're both rotting away, and it's okay, because it's together. Whether or not it's based in love (platonic or romantic) or a hatred for the world so deep that your vision is blurred by your tears of rage, who knows. You never get to know.

Because the last thing those boys would want is to be vulnerable. Because that means something is wrong. But nothing can be wrong, because you're normal. There's nothing wrong with you.

I hope this makes sense and isn't incoherent.

[grapefives]

REVÓLVER SEXUAL | HC

supernova trio x gn!reader (separately)

very light angst + implied nsfw + hispanic/latin reader + past fat shaming + insecurities + fluff + mentioned past unhealthy mechanisms

a/n: totally not self indulging. this has been in my drafts for a year LMAO please like 🧍🏻‍♀️

૮ ּ ۟ monkey d. luffy ׅ ۫ ✧

when you first joined the crew, luffy KNEW you had some sort of trouble with food

you were so hesitant of EVERYTHING that he found himself insisting and making sure you ate well, along with sanji

“y/n, eat more.” you felt like he was your MOM.

you could hear the “estas muy flac@” from your family members or the “ni que estuvieras a dieta” from your mother

but it was so HARD to say no to luffy, captain or not.

you still didn’t have a healthy relationship with food, and still felt a little guilty if you found yourself eating more than you FELT like you should’ve

sometimes you’d go all day without eating until luffy drags you for dinner, it’s not that you did it intentionally, you just don’t find it in you to eat

honestly, it worried luffy but he never really commented on it

all he would do is make sure you at least ate

but when you would play with your food more than eat or even just stare at the plate before you, he would frown and actually force feed you

“Y/N YOU HAVE TO BE STRONG AND HEALTHY SO WE CAN BEAT EVERYTHING THAT COMES OUT WAY!”

yet, one day he finds out you literally had an issue with eating, you had mentioned it to chopper and he just happened to overhear

then it clicked why you were always squirmy during intimacy

and WITHOUT FAIL, to your surprise, he started being reassuring to you

he’s always a sweetheart with you, your hype man regardless but this time you knew his intentions were for you to understand you shouldn’t worry about your physical appearance

his eyes were ten times more tender outside the bedroom

yet, when it came to intimacy he was like a hungry animal— kissing, biting and grabbing. it had taken you aback at how specific he was being, but you still melted into him

he made you forget the voices that would say “hide that” or “don’t let him notice” but he made sure you understood that he’ll love you regardless of what you think

and he’s an eater

he’ll eat you up. always.

૮ ּ ۟ trafalgar d. law ׅ ۫ ✧

he’s a DOCTOR. man’s knows when someone is off.

he mistook your lack of interest in food for a stomach bug, genuinely concerned and forcing you to take pills and medicine

lowkey made you feel bad and ashamed to the point you came clean

medical confidentiality right?

😭 the face he gave you!!

“it’s unhealthy to neglect vital nutrients to your body.”

very stern about your meal intake, takes it upon himself to make sure you eat what you can stomach at first and make sure you grow comfortable with both him and food

he’s sweet really, just shows it in private

he literally sits you down and asks you what you would like for your body, because if you have any concerns then you MUST attend them CORRECTLY

no more unhealthy mechanisms

and he falls even more in love when you seem more radiant, more confident.

he’d come up from behind always and just plant a warm, wet kiss on your ear before whispering a compliment on your appearance

he made you feel like no one else’s opinion mattered anymore.

literally it didn’t matter if people commented on your weight, the results you were having made you feel confident

he was definitely surprised when you’d initiate intimacy, when you’d devour him like a starving animal

“someone’s hungry,” he teased once, but when you had paused, he realized his wording must have affected you

he low key panics and stutters out an apology but you smirk at him

“for once i don’t feel guilty for eating-“ and you devour his heart and soul too

૮ ּ ۟ eustass kid ׅ ۫ ✧

i’m sorry but this doofus was really oblivious about it until killer pointed it out

he was so mad at himself. how dare he not see your issue with food?? he thought you gave him your leftovers out of love!!

dude he’s like, an insensitive giant thinking he’s being helpful

it made sense of why you were always trying to put off intimacy or why you’d try to make him see less of you

“i don’t give a damn about how you look. why would i care?” he asks.

in his head he was being sweet and saying “i love you just the way you are.”

but it made you feel like shit

you were already struggling with feeling right with yourself, and he comes and says he doesn’t care? maybe you’re being sensitive but even that made you feel worse

it felt like you’ll never be enough for anyone, even eustass.

you never felt like you mattered, but growing up your weight put labels on you. you grew up with insults being used as nicknames, yet you felt like eustass saw you as nothing

“why aren’t you eating?” he asks when he notices you still aren’t developing a good eating habit, some days you eat well and others you either overeat or don’t eat at all

“does it matter?” you huff.

“i give a damn when you could get sick!”

“you said you don’t give a damn about how i look, so shut up about what i do.” you growl.

“eh? when did i say that!? you need to eat!” he huffs.

“well no thank you.”

you ignore him and he has to corner you in your room to get you to pay him any mind

his interrogations fall deaf in your ears as he cages you under him on your bed

“if i don’t matter to you get out,” you blurt out.

“what are you talking about? when have i made you feel like you don’t matter to me.”

“you know i’m struggling and you just- you just said you don’t give a damn about how i look!”

“because i don’t! does it have to matter? i love you for you! pirates seek out people for their bodies and for their own pleasures! i’m with you because i love you for who you are!”

“and i am not saying you’re ugly or whatever it is you think i think!” he beats you to every argument.

and then he goes on to show you PHYSICALLY what he means. not like, harsh or anything. you’ve never felt so precious under his care before, he kissed you so tenderly.

he didn’t make you feel fragile, like something that could break in a bad way

he made you understand how he sees you as more as his partner- as an extension of his soul, his missing piece

“i’ll make sure you never feel like that again, as long as you’re with me, you’ll be more valuable than a poneglyph. whatever you struggle with, i’ll help you through it.”

your confidence went up, because honestly he’s brutally honest and many people take what the captain says seriously; yet you knew he’s never lie to you

at the end of the day, what your lover says is what matters to you.