#and i get that because i was like that with time gate

[tojisteddy]

After Care with Toji.

cw: no use of ‘y/n’ I use ‘[+]’, depicting after care (obviously), sub space, softdom!toji, fluff, dom/sub dynamics, treading the line of dd/lg (anyone could digest this), pet names (baby, doll, mama, ma), it’s LONG (idk how many words, I know know it’s LONG), toji is the sweetest bf ever.

Toji knew your limits. He knew just how much he could push and pull, throw you around until you were delirious. And he knew when you were fucked out of your mind, when you couldn’t think properly, you who’d only knew how to moan and spew gibberish.

He’d had half of his manhood in you, slowly sliding out of your gushing cunt as he looked down at your ravished body. He had hickies and bite marks from the top of your neck to your toes, both of juices on your stomach down an absolute mess coming from both of your thighs. He adored the sight of it.

He gently lifted your chin to look at him, your eyes kept wandering around, “no, no, look at me mama, focus.” His voice was gentle but it was a command.

It sorta sounded like God was calling you, maybe the pearly gates were opening. You wouldn’t have minded.

“Where’s yer head at? Tell me.” He always asked when you were blissed out.

You couldn’t verbally answer though. You reached for the back of his knee and tapped. Once, twice, three times. Toji’d known from the first tap alone you were calling it quits, he sat you up on the pillows. Running to go get a damp towel or two to clean you off.

“Such a good girl f’ me today Doll. Did so well.”

You hiccuped, rubbing your face that was once full of tears. “Really?”

Fuck, you were so damn cute like this.

“Course mama,” he lifted your hand and kissing your knuckles and intertwined your fingers, “Loved bein with you. You love it too?”

“Course papa.” You replied, using his same sweet tone.

The ends of his lips curved up, leaving a quick kiss at your temple, “Yer so sweet baby.”

You hadn’t even realized when Togi finished cleaning you up and had sat you up, legs dangling off the bed. You felt his fingers going into your hair.

“I-I can take care ‘f myself Toji.”

“Sure you can ma, but not right now. Let me help you.”

Togi was consistent with after care. It was something he learned how to do after being with so many women, to look out for them. Help them clean up, get them properly conscious, relaxed.

It was different with you, though.

Not that he wasn’t a fan of it already, but after pushing you to your limit, manhandling you every which way known to man, forcing you to take everything he had— he loved taking care of you. To the point that even when his dick K.O’ed you into darkness, you’d wake up at 3 am, the moonlight slithering it’s way into the your shades bedroom through the curtains. You’d sit all the way up, rubbing your tired eyes to find yourself completely wiped down, in one of Toji’s sweatshirts that hung off him just right but gave you sweater paws, a pair of underwear and a scarf to protect your hair because he knew you’d be grumbling all morning if you woke up with out.

He didn’t mind because he loved you.

You, who never asked too much of him or pushed him too hard. You, who felt every need to be independent, and he had to teach you to rely on him. You, who had every wall built up as far as the eye can see, worse than him— it was Toji who broke every one of them down, breaking his own in the process.

Yes, you were his play thing in the bedroom, a messy girl, his slut— but everywhere else, you were his baby, his gorgeous girl, cute future mamma to his kids, his lover.

Oh how he absolutely adored you.

“What’ddya wanna do, huh? Take a drive, eat, a bath?” He had put your curls up with one of the silk scrunchies you left lying around, leaving peppering kisses on the back of your neck.

“A bath.” You mumbled.

“Yeah?” He carefully rubbed your hips, thankfully they didn’t bruise this time.

“Go on, take a shower first ‘nd I’ll meet you there. You know what to do.”

With a pat to your ass, you were off. Legs wobbly from so much action.

Toji took care of everything. From changing the sheets, lighting candles, playing whatever music you wanted to hear to wind down, running the overly hot bath water with bubbles, just how you liked it. Whatever you wanted at the moment, Toji would give it to you. He loved how reliant you were when you were blissed out.

He liked it when you were completely relaxed, completely trusting of him with not a care in the world. Your only focus was him and being with him. He also loved being needed by you, how you were like two peas in a pod— both of you needing each other.

You pressed your head on the cool tile of the shower, closing your eyes as the soap and water ran down your body. It felt soooo nice against your skin.

“Oi, if yer tired sit on the hinoki!”

He snapped you out of whatever trance you were in with the wall, but you closed your eyes again with a scuff, “fuck off… ‘m not tired… You’re fuckin tired.”

Toji chuckled, setting both of your pajamas on the bathroom counter and then joining you under the hot water.

“You talkin shit?” An amused look on his face, leaning down closer to see you. As if he wasn’t already following your every move, just to make sure you were safe on your own.

“You get in my face… talkin- talkin ‘bout me… you’rrre the one yellin. Yoouu must be tired.” You slurred out, a grin forming on your face.

“ ‘S that right?”

“ ‘M always righ—”

You yelped out, Tojis devious fingers immediately going to your tummy, your arm pits— anywhere he knew he could get a bustle of laughter out of you. At the best and worst times, Toji was a literal tickle monster. He could get anything out of you that way.

“That’s— haha- you’re cheating! Ah! Hehee- you cheater!”

“Come on! I know yer tired, I’ll stop if you sit.”

“Oh, come awn!”

Without another word, Toji had you trapped between his body and the tile wall of the shower, tickling you so much it hurt.

You groaned, still giggling up a storm, slapping his large arms that held you, “Damn it! I give! I give!”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his fingers were off of you body, taking your hand and guiding you to the hinoki.

“Doesn’t that feel better?”

“Whatever.”

It did feel better, your legs had been contorted in every in every way imaginable. Above his head, above your head, spread out from the Atlantic Ocean to the pacific. It felt good to take a rest.

Your eyes trailed up Toji’s body, skin riddled with scratch marks from his arms to his back, a few hickies on his neck, water cascading down his toned muscles, chiseled cheek bones—

“You starin mama?”

Toji hummed to himself, he loved when your eyes were on him. They were so pretty to him, especially when you were in the sun and he could really get a look at them. Like two Hershey kisses staring back at his green ones.

“Look so cute when you blush.”

“Shut up! You can’t even see it!”

He couldn’t, your brown skin didn’t let it peek through.

But it was in the way your eyes immediately went else where, unconsciously going to feel your heated cheeks or even trying to hide your face that had a small toothy smile— so fucking cute.

“Is the bath done?” Your eyes going to the tub a few feet away back to Toji who was washing his body with a wash cloth.

“Course, but you always fall asleep in there Doll ‘nd I told you I don’t like. It’s not safe.”

“I’ve never fallin asleep in there!”

His eyes met yours, eyebrow raised. Try it [+], I dare you.

“Maybe once.”

He shook his head, going back to washing his body. Unbelievable.

“More than once.” It came out more like a question even though you knew the answer to it.

Toji peered down at you, your eyes back at the tub. The steam was rising from the water, bubbles floating to and fro in the water. Slowly disappearing. Then your eyes went back to him. Big brown doe eyes, a tilt of your head and the cherry on top; a pout on your two tone lips. Not two big, not too small- just enough to push.

You were hell.

How could he say no when you were looking up at him like that.

“Fine- fuck baby, take your time!”

You slipped twice getting to the tub. Once because of how wet your foot was because of the water and another time because your legs felt exactly like the water under your foot. If it weren’t for the bath, you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow. Now you would be able to, a little limp like you worked out (I mean you probably could consider what you did an hour ago a workout) but you’d be able to!

Toji was right there with you, towel in his lap just barely covering his manhood, sitting on the hinoki and washing his hair. Talking to you about anything from the lunch you packed him last week to the new sake he wanted to try. You loved it, Toji’s voice was like a melody, deep, scratchy because of all the cigarettes yet smooth— a shot of whiskey.

“Scoot.”

You moved forward so Toji could sit behind you, it was his spot whenever you took baths together. After care or not. He loved getting to hold you, letting you rest your head on his shoulder, leaving kisses at every place he left a hickey, maybe placing one or two new ones there.

Tonight was quiet, The Light In by Lana playing. You really were tired, unwilling to fight it but at peace— right where you needed to be. Toji was rubbing your arms, your thighs, your shoulders, just in the right places— he had some godly hands. Toji looked at you, who was completely slumped, your head resting against the tub, your long lashes slowly meeting each again and again.

“Ready for bed?”

“Mmm.”

You don’t know how, or when but by the time you’d realized— Toji had you in bed, teeth brushed, pajamas and scarf on and was rubbing the small of your back. Whispering how you did so well for him, how good you were, his adorable baby— a total sweetheart.

“Love you papa.” You mumbled, drifting off without a second thought.

Toji smiled, taking in your gorgeous face one more time before closing his eyes.

“Love you too mama.”

[vmpireslut]

BRAT TAMER! 𝜗𝜚

sum𝜗𝜚 toji despises working. he'd rather be off gambling, losing himself in the thrill and chaos of the games. but then he meets you, his new client's spoiled daughter. it's okay, though... he's a brat tamer.

wc𝜗𝜚 6.6k [oopsie]

warnings𝜗𝜚 SEMI PROOF-READ, older!pervtoji, masterbation, fingering, female + male oral, cum eating, squirting, creaming, choking, spitting, explicit language, toji is kind of mean, reader is annoying, age-gap [reader is 19 toji is 35] just a whole lot of nasty shit, enjoy hornies!

Toji Zenin really hated working. The same boring tasks, the long hours, the wear and tear on his body, and the relentless sun made every day feel like a drag. But there was one thing that made it all a bit more bearable: his client. More specifically, his client’s daughter. Sure, it was a bit taboo to have thoughts about a girl so much younger, but he couldn’t help himself.

Those shorts of yours were always way too tight, hugging your curves like they were made for you. And those shirts? Toji was pretty sure you didn’t even own a bra, especially with how your nipples would poke through the fabric whenever he caught a glimpse of you.

You had no shame, showing off that gorgeous body and cute face at every opportunity. It was like you wanted to be noticed in those revealing outfits, strutting around in swimsuits that left little to the imagination. He’d even seen your pussy lips once as you’d bent down near the pool, he remembers because he’d spent the entirety of his lunch break fisting his raging boner in a hot portable toilet.

Not exactly his finest hour.

You were undeniably a brat, completely indulged by your widowed father who was eager to fulfill every whim of his precious daughter. With wealth, a stunning home, a devoted dad, and your charming looks, it was no surprise that you carried the air of entitlement. Toji, however, found a certain appeal in your spoiled nature; he preferred you as a brat rather than a timid wallflower. From his perspective, brats were easier to tame. Most days, he found himself lost in fantasies of you. Daydreaming about your pretty little warped about his cock.

It frustrated him how deeply you had woven yourself into his life. He couldn’t even get into it with his casual fling anymore unless he pictured you, and man, did that feel amazing.

"Dad!"

Speak of the Devil. The sound of your voice filled the air just as the front gate slammed behind you. Fresh from your weekly shopping spree with friends, you made your entrance. Toji felt a surge of frustration as the sharp click of your heels echoed on the cement. He turned away from his work space, his gaze fixed on you as you sauntered over, your hips swaying and oversized sunglasses perched on your nose.

He couldn't help but observe as you approached your father, a look of irritation etched on your face. Perhaps you had finally hit your credit card limit. With a sulky pout and arms crossed beneath your perky breasts, you pushed them up, and his thoughts spiraled.

Toji wanted nothing more than to rip the tank top off your body, pull your nipples between his fingers and twist them until you were crying.

"My card was declined!"

Toji struggled to suppress a laugh, biting down on the inside of his cheek. What a foolish little brat. Your father shot you a disapproving glance, and you let out an exasperated huff, stomping your foot like the spoiled child you were.

"I was at the mall trying to buy a cute dress, and the card didn't go through! So, I called the bank and they said it was declined!"

Your father sighed, and Toji could have sworn he saw the old man roll his eyes. He must have been fed up with having to coddle an adult woman.

"Listen, sweetheart. I already mentioned that I won't be giving you another allowance until next week. Perhaps it's time you learned how to manage your money, or maybe I should restrict your card usage. Clearly, this isn't working out." You gasped in response, and Toji couldn't help but feel a bit taken aback.

Maybe your dad wasn't as soft as he seemed. He felt a twinge of sympathy for him, having to handle a spoiled daughter like you.

“That's so unfair!" You cried, turning away from your dad, arms flailing and he swore he saw you kick a rock like a toddler having a tantrum. "I hate this fucking place! It's so hot and the bugs are everywhere. I can't stand it! Shopping is the only thing that keeps me sane." You yelled.

He noticed your dad wince, and Toji could already picture the headache brewing in the man's mind. "Mind your language," he said calmly, but you just scoffed.

"Or what?"

Toji could predict how this would unfold. Your dad would let out a resigned sigh and give in, while you'd strut away with a triumphant grin.

"Go to your room; you're done for the day. Sit there and think about your behavior. You're clearly too worked up," he said, and you stared at him in disbelief. "Are you serious?" you yelled, and he shook his head.

"I mean it. You're too agitated, and I don't want you to say or do something you'll regret later. Please, just go to your room," he insisted, and Toji had to suppress a laugh. It was clear you were at a loss for how to respond. You stomped your feet again and huffed in frustration.

"Fine."

As you marched toward your room, the sound of your heels echoed sharply, culminating in a loud slam of the door. Your father exhaled deeply, rubbing the bridge of his nose while muttering softly to himself. "Kids..." he murmured, glancing at Toji with a sympathetic expression.

"I apologize for that. She's dealing with a lot at the moment." Toji responded with a reassuring shake of his head. "It's all good," he said, prompting a smile from your father.

“Thank you Toji. You’re a great guy, and you’ve done an amazing job with building the shed so far.”

“Thanks, sir,” he responded. Your dad turned his gaze toward your bedroom window, and Toji’s eyes followed suit. You were anxiously pacing, phone pressed to your ear, a scowl etched on your face. Your father frowned, and Toji cleared his throat, feeling the tension in the air.

Toji had never really had a conversation with you, and the only time he did, you had unleashed a torrent of curses at him. It was his first day on the job, and you had come down wearing nothing but a silk pink robe, clearly annoyed at being stirred from your sleep so early in the morning.

He stood there, taking in the sight of you descending the steps, the silk draping around your figure. He could see the gentle curves of your body, the outline of your bare breasts, the shape of your hips, and the smoothness of your legs.

"Do you realize how ridiculously early it is? It's seven, you dick!" You shot, glaring at Toji with a fiery intensity. He raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by your attitude. It was obvious you were still in the process of waking up, not fully aware of who was standing there.

"Miss, I recommend you mind your language," he replied, and he could have sworn he noticed a shiver run through you. Your lovely lips parted slightly, a soft gasp escaping, and Toji had to fight the urge to grin. So, you enjoyed being spoken to like that. He cleared his throat and stepped closer, looking down at you with a playful smirk.

He didn’t spare you a second glance, not even flinching when the front door slammed shut behind you. From that moment on, you shot him daggers every time he crossed your path, throwing out sarcastic remarks whenever your father was out of earshot. Your behavior only escalated, and Toji was certain your dad was on the verge of exploding. But Toji believed he could change you; he was confident he could take that defiant attitude and transform it. He was certain of it. He would fuck that ego right out of you and mold it into a perfect little slut, ready and willing to please him.

"I still have a few tasks to finish up around the house. Thanks again, Toji," your father remarked, and Toji simply nodded.

"Absolutely."

The two shared a smile and the older man went back inside, leaving Toji to his thoughts. His mind wandered to all the possibilities and ways he could take you apart. He could see it now, his large hand holding yours down, forcing you to stay still as he pounded into your tight cunt. His other hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing tight as he made you cum, the walls of your pussy clenching around him. He'd pull out and force his cock down your throat, forcing you to choke on him. He'd fill you with his seed, spilling everything down your throat, watching as you swallowed his hot cum, a blissful look on your face.

God, the thoughts were intoxicating.

He would break you, mold you, bend you, and make you his own personal toy. You were going to be his.

He would make sure of it.

Your father had kept his promise; he had cut off your credit card and confined you to the house. It felt like a never-ending limbo. Most of your days were spent buried in a cheesy romance novel by the pool or dozing off. For the past few weeks, your dad had been working late, leaving you to dine solo and binge-watch reruns of old TV shows. It was downright dismal.

He even spent his evenings holed up in his office, tackling whatever tasks awaited him. The atmosphere was heavy with loneliness. You could sense his disappointment in your behavior, but who could really blame you? This house was a snooze fest. While your friends were off enjoying their summer adventures, you were stuck here.

They couldn’t even swing by to visit because of their packed schedules. Still, they called regularly, sharing tales of their escapades and new crushes. You appreciated their efforts to keep you in the loop, but those conversations only filled the emptiness for so long.

Today, you decided to lounge by the pool, soaking up the sun on a comfy chair. You donned your favorite bikini, a stylish white and gold set, the straps loosely tied, barely holding everything in place. The high-waisted bottoms accentuated your curves perfectly. Beside you, a refreshing glass of lemonade and a colorful mix of fruits—cherries, pineapples, and more—sat waiting. Your book lay on your stomach, eager for your attention once more.

The pool was stunning, and it had always been one of your favorite places to escape to. The water sparkled like crystal, the waterfall cascaded beautifully, and the palm trees swayed gently above. It was the sole reason you tolerated living in such a sweltering climate. However, there was one major drawback: the man who took care of the garden. Toji, you learned was his name.

You couldn't stand him. He was insufferably rude and full of himself. His looks only made matters worse. You despised how incredibly handsome he was. You had never encountered a man so striking before. The definition of his arms, the chiseled jawline, and the width of his shoulders were infuriating.

His dark eyes, sun-kissed skin, and flowing dark hair only added to your irritation. It was maddening how flawless he appeared. Just the thought of him made your blood boil. He was so self-satisfied and arrogant, and the way he acted like he was superior to you drove you up the wall.

“Whatcha reading?”

You startled at the sound of his voice, glancing over to find Toji casually leaning against the patio door, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. His white button-up shirt was rolled up, showcasing his well-defined arms. A warm flush crept across your cheeks. Why the fuck was he so handsome?

"What do you want?" you shot back, setting your book aside.

"I just wanted to see if you needed anything," he said, striding over to the chair beside you and pulling it closer. "Your dad mentioned he’d be working late and I thought I could order dinner for you," he added, a hint of mischief in his tone, causing your brows to knit together in confusion.

"Why the hell would you order a pizza for me?”

"Because I'm a nice guy, and it would suck for a pretty girl like you to have to fend for herself." He responded, a sly smile on his lips and you couldn't help the small shiver that went down your spine. You shook the thoughts from your head and rolled your eyes.

"Yeah, right. You just want to get in my pants. Don't try to act like a good guy, I know exactly who you are. My dad's a great guy, he'd never hire a creep like you."

"Is that what you think?"

You didn't answer, a scowl forming on your face.

"Well, if I'm a creep, then what does that make you?"

"What?"

"Come on, don't act dumb. I know you get off on teasing me."

"You're a fucking pervert.”

"Maybe."

His grin was wolfish, and he looked predatory, leaning forward and staring you down. "Tell me, have you been a good girl lately? Or have you been naughty?"

"I-"

"You've been very bratty lately. I know your dad's getting sick of it."

You swallowed thickly, a blush coating your cheeks. How could he read you so well?

"But, don't worry. I can fix you."

"Fix me? What are you talking about?"

"You're spoiled. And I'll change that."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I know you want it. I can tell."

He leaned back, his arm resting on the back of the chair.

"And, if you're good, I'll reward you."

"Reward me?"

He grinned and nodded, leaning forward and pressing his lips against your ear.

"Yes. If you're a good girl, I'll fuck you like the slut you are."

He pulled back, the grin never leaving his face.

"Think about it, princess."

He winked, standing up and turning away, a chuckle leaving him.

You were speechless, your heart racing, and a blush coloring your cheeks. The heat pooled between your legs and you shifted. What the fuck was wrong with him? Did he really think you would let him fuck you?

Who were you kidding, you were already soaked.

"Dick..." You muttered, shaking your head.

That night, you couldn't get him out of your head. The way his words had sent shivers down your spine, the way his gaze had been filled with lust. It was so...wrong, but it was a wrong you wanted. You didn't care, and the idea of getting caught only added to the thrill. You'd already spent an hour in the shower, the warm water and the detachable shower head bringing you to orgasm after orgasm. You could still hear his voice, the raspy tone, the way his words dripped with sex and lust. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he knew he had you right where he wanted. You could hear his chuckle echoing in your head, his grin filling your mind.

It was sad, really.

How could a man you didn't even like have this effect on you?

It was ridiculous.

You couldn't believe you were letting him get into your head.

He was a fucking creep.

A handsome, sexy, confident creep.

A sudden knock at the door jolted you from your reverie, causing you to startle and sit up abruptly. You quickly snatched a towel, wrapping its comforting softness around you before swinging the door open. There he stood, the man who had been lingering in your thoughts.

" What the hell are you doing here?!"

"I brought the pizza. I told you I was getting dinner." He replied, a grin on his lips and you scoffed.

"Why did you bring it up here?"

"I was trying to be nice, and besides. I didn't know when your dad was going to be home."

He stepped forward, forcing his way into the room, and setting the box down on the bed.

"You're such a dick." You muttered, crossing your arms.

"Am I?"

"Yes."

"What's wrong with me bringing food to the boss' daughter?"

"Nothing. But, that's not why you're here."

"And, what do you think I'm here for?"

"Don't play dumb, you already told me."

"Oh, is that right?"

He chuckled, and the sound sent chills down your spine.

"Do you think about me when you touch yourself?"

You were taken aback by his sudden question, your eyes widening.

"No, I don't."

"Then, why are you so wet?"

“I just got out of the shower wise guy. Get out.”

He grinned and stepped closer, and you took a step back.

"You know, the walls are very thin. So, it's easy to hear the moans and gasps of a girl when she touches herself. But,hey. What would I know? I'm just a construction guy."

You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment. Had he heard you masturbate?

"Shut up. I don't know what you're talking about."

"If I'm lying, why are your nipples hard?"

You felt your heart race and the towel slip down slightly. You moved to fix it, and he stepped forward, his hand moving towards your neck.

"Let me take care of that for you."

He gripped the towel, his lips crashing onto yours in a passionate kiss. There was a fierce hunger in him, as he explored your mouth with fervor. His tongue danced inside, teasing the roof of your mouth. Meanwhile, his other hand found its way to your breasts, fingers pinching your nipple with a playful intensity earning a whine from you. He broke the kiss, trailing his lips down to your neck, planting soft kisses that turned into gentle bites on your sensitive skin. As he pulled back, a satisfied grin spread across his face as he gazed down at you.

"Get on the bed."

"Wha-what?"

"Get on the bed."

You were surprised by his commanding tone, and you could feel your cunt aching. You walked towards the bed, your knees hitting the edge of the mattress and you fell back. You looked up at him, and he smiled.

"Take off the towel."

You did as he said, pulling the towel away and revealing your naked body. He licked his lips, a hungry expression in his eyes.

"Touch yourself."

Your hands moved to your breasts, cupping the mounds and rolling your nipples between your fingers. You let out a soft gasp, your head falling back and you began to rub your clit.

"Touch yourself.”

Your hands moved to your breasts, cupping the mounds and rolling your nipples between your fingers. You let out a soft gasp, your head falling back and you began to rub your sensitive clit. You were already wet, the thought of being watched had made you dripping. The pleasure that shot through you made your knees weak and your eyes fluttered closed.

You heard his voice again, this time closer to your ear and you shuddered.

"Good girl."

“Oh god..."

"Spread your legs wider."

You whimpered, moving your legs farther apart and you sank a finger inside of you. Your body quivered as you slowly began pumping your hand and the warmth began to build in your belly.

"Yes...that's it."

You cried out softly as you slipped another finger inside of you, pumping them faster and faster. Your body tingled with the feeling. Toji watched, his cock aching for release in his pants. You looked so slutty spread out for him like this, slickness leaking down your ass. He wanted to shove his dick into your hot, tight pussy, but he restrained himself. You were his to command.

"Faster. Fuck yourself faster."

"Nghh...I-I..."

"Come for me, kitten."

You moaned, your walls clenching around your fingers. You were already sore from your previous orgasms, but you felt another one quickly coming. You moved your hips, trying to get more friction.

"That's right. Ride your hand like a little whore. Cum for me. Now."

"A-Ahh!"

Your hips bucked against your hand and you came, squirting over your fingers and onto the floor. Your chest heaved, your body trembling as you sank down into the matress.

Toji growled lowly, the sight of your glistening pussy and the smell of your sex made him feel dizzy. He pulled his hard cock out of his pants and stroked it quickly, his thumb rubbing over his tip. You felt him climb onto the bed and his hand gripped the back of your neck.

"Open your mouth."

You obeyed, gasping as you felt him rub the head of his cock against your tongue. He pumped his hand, thrusting into your mouth and making you gag. Your jaw ached as he fucked your mouth.

"Take my cock...nghh."

Toji groaned, his eyes closed and his face scrunched up. You could feel him twitching on your tongue. You moaned around him, sending a wave of pleasure through him. His hand squeezed the back of your neck.

"Suck."

Your eyes rolled back into your head as he forced his entire length down your throat, the tip of his cock touching the back of your tongue. Tears formed in your eyes, threatening to spill over as you struggled to breathe.

"Mmghhh."

You tried to relax your throat, sucking on his cock the best you could. Your hands clenched the sheets.

"That's a good girl."

He grunted, his cock throbbing in your mouth.

"M-Mmm You take me so well, kitten.”

You were drooling, spit and precum dribbling down your chin. He pulled back and you took a deep breath.

"Did I tell you to stop?"

"N-no."

"No, what?"

"No, sir."

"Then get back to work."

"Yes, sir."

He growled and thrust his hips.

"Good, baby."

He groaned and his grip on your hair tightened.

"Fuck. I'm gonna come soon. You ready for me, baby? Gonna swallow every drop?"

"Yes, please."

"Good, good girl."

His thrusts became faster and more erratic, his breathing shallow.

"Ahh. Fuck, yeah. G’na come."

He hated how fast he was nearing his end, but the way you gobbled him down and squeezed his balls in time with your tongue had him spiraling. Your every movement was calculated, each flick of your tongue and squeeze of your hand driving him closer to the edge. He could feel the tension building within him, a mix of pleasure and desperation that left him breathless. The intensity of your actions, combined with your unwavering eye contact, made it impossible for him to hold back any longer.

“Ughhhh fuckkkkk!” He threw his head back and came, shooting thick ropes of his hot seed down your throat. You swallowed, moaning and milking him for everything he had. You felt him shiver, his muscles tensing as he came down. He looked down at you, his eyes dark and wild.

He grabbed you by the arm, yanking you up to your feet and crushing his mouth to yours. You could feel the heat from his body and you melted against him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"So good."

His hands were all over you, his lips on your neck. He walked you back until you hit the bed, falling on top of you. He was heavy and hot, pressing you into the mattress. He kissed his way down your chest and stomach, his fingers brushing the wet folds of your pussy.

"Ohh, shit."

"Mm, you're still so wet."

"F-for youuuu."

"You like being touched like this?"

"Uh huh."

He slipped a finger inside of you, his thumb brushing your clit. You whined, as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, biting it gently. You writhed underneath him, his name a constant prayer. He added another finger, stretching you and finding that special gummy spot. You arched your back, moaning loudly.

A desperate whine leaves your lips when he suddenly pulls away, tucking his cock back into his pants. You look up at him, pouting.

"What? What's wrong?"

"You didn't fuck me."

"That wasn't the plan, princess."

"I hate you. Pervert.”

He chuckles, patting your thigh.

"No, you don't."

He gets up and walks out of the room, leaving you panting and unsatisfied.

"Fucking dick.”

Toji had you completely under his spell. His piercing gaze and self-assured presence made it impossible for you to look away. Each time you attempted to shift your focus elsewhere, your mind would inevitably circle back to him. The way he moved, the way he spoke—everything about him was magnetic, pulling you in deeper.

He was aware of the effect he had on you. A glimmer of satisfaction danced in his eyes whenever he caught you watching him. It was as if he relished the control he held, knowing you were utterly entranced by his aura. Despite your attempts to fight it, a rush of excitement coursed through you every time he was close.

It became a familiar pattern where Toji would bend you over, his fingers exploring you until you either squirted or cried out his name in ecstasy. Yet, he never crossed that final line, leaving you both frustrated and yearning. Your father noticed your newfound cheerfulness, but you brushed it off with a casual shrug. Eventually, he returned your credit card and lifted your grounding, but your thoughts remained consumed by Toji.

“Oh yeah honey, I invited Toji over for dinner.”

You froze, and looked up from the raw chicken.

"What? Why?"

"I wanted to thank him for helping us out, he’s done a great job. Don’t ya think?”

"Why can't we just send him a gift basket or something?"

"Because that would be rude. Besides, he's a nice guy. He deserves to be treated like a guest."

You sighed and tightened your grip on the meat tenderizer. The truth was, you hadn’t really spoken to Toji in days; he seemed to be keeping his distance. The thought of being in the same space with him was daunting, especially after everything that had happened between you two.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady your racing heart. Surely, he wouldn’t do anything with your father around, right? You shook off the thought and concentrated on your cooking, but the anxiety swirling in your chest was hard to ignore.

When Toji finally entered the dining room, you were a bundle of nerves. A mix of excitement and dread washed over you as he stepped inside. His mere presence seemed to dominate the room, and you struggled to keep your eyes from lingering on him.

"Hey, thanks for inviting me."

"Of course, Toji. It's the least we could do."

You kept your head down and focused on your food, ignoring the urge to look at him.

"You okay, pumpkin? You're very quiet tonight."

"I'm fine."

"She's probably just tired." Toji said.

Your eyes grew wide as you locked eyes with him, feeling the intensity of his stare pierce through you, sending your heart into a frenzy. The urge to reach out and slap him was strong, but you knew better than to provoke your father’s suspicion. So, you bit your tongue and focused on your meal instead.

Once dinner was over, your father retreated to his study, leaving you two in an awkward silence. The tension in the room was palpable, with both of you at a loss for words. You felt an overwhelming desire to shout at him, to accuse him of being a creep, to demand he leave, but the words just wouldn’t come. Instead, you remained there, simmering with frustration.

At last, he shattered the stillness.

"So, how are you liking the new semester?"

"Fine."

"Any problems?"

"No."

He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

"Listen, I know you're mad at me."

"Mad? I'm fucking furious. What the fuck is your deal, Toji? You get me hooked then you go ghost?”

"Hooked?"

"You know what I mean."

He chuckled, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table. "It was just a bit of fun. Didn't mean anything by it."

"Bullshit. I'm not stupid. Why are you playing with me?"

He locks his hands under his chin. "I'm not playing with you."

You glared. "Yes, you are. I can see it in your eyes. You want me."

He sighed and shook his head.

"You're a kid. It would be inappropriate."

"I'm not a kid."

"Yeah, you are. Look, it's nothing personal. I just don't date girls like you."

"Girls like me?"

"Rich kids with their own personal army."

"I'm not-"

"Save it. I know who your dad is. I'm not interested in getting mixed up in his business, it was a mistake doing those things with you."

You swallowed thickly, his words like a slap.

"Then why the hell are you here?"

"Because I was invited."

"You're such a dick."

You were angry, but you couldn't help but notice how his eyes seemed to darken. You wondered if he was thinking the same thing as you. What it would be like to have him pin you down and fuck you. The thought made your cheeks flush.

"You know, I bet if I told your father what we'd been doing, he'd have a very different opinion of you."

"Is that a threat?"

"No. Just a reminder. Don't forget who's in charge here."

"Fuck you."

"I don't fuck little girls."

You could feel your anger rising, and you were tempted to throw something at him. But you knew he was right. He was in control, and there was nothing you could do about it.

"So, what now? Are we just going to pretend like nothing happened?"

"If that's what you want."

"I don't know what I want."

"Well, then I guess we're at an impasse."

"I hate you."

"Don't be dramatic. You barely know me."

"I know enough. You're a jerk and a bully."

"And you're a spoiled brat who needs to learn some respect."

You scoffed at him, clenching your fists.

"Don't push me, princess."

"Or what? What are you gonna do?"

"Oh, I can think of a few things." He quips.

His eyes were dark and full of promise, and you could feel yourself growing wet.

"I bet."

"You wanna find out?"

“What I want is to slap that grin off your stupid face."

"Slap me. Do it."

"No."

"Why not? Too scared?"

"No."

"Then do it." He urges.

"Stop it."

"What? You're the one who's always pushing my buttons. Come on, princess. Show me what you got."

You stand and lift your hand, striking him sharply across the face, the crack resonating throughout the room. A sharp intake of breath escaped you, and your eyes widened in shock. His cheek flushed crimson, clearly marked by the outline of your hand. He smirked and ran his tongue over his lips.

"There. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"You're an asshole."

"Yeah, and you're a spoiled bitch who likes to get fucked with my fingers."

You could feel your face flush, and you turned away from him.

"Shut up."

"Make me."

"Fine. Go fuck yourself." You sigh.

"Nah, I think I'll have you do it."

He chuckled, his voice deep and low.

"Oh, I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"No. Not with you. Never."

"Really? Not even a little?"

"Not even a little." You snap.

"Come on, princess. You can't lie to me. I can see it in your eyes. I can practically smell the desire on you."

"Shut up."

"Why? Because I'm right?"

"No, because you're annoying."

"So, you're not interested? Not even a little?"

"Fuck you, bipolar ass."

"Ooh, feisty. I like it."

"I hate you."

"The feeling's mutual, sweetheart."

You could feel your anger rising, and you wanted nothing more than to punch him in the face this time. But you knew he was right. He was the one with the upper hand, and there was nothing you could do about it. He stands up from the table, face inches from yours. “Ya think if fucked you on this table lil ol’ daddy would hear?” You felt your pulse quicken, and a wave of arousal wash over you. "What? No snarky comeback?"

"You're a fucking pig."

"I might be, but at least I'm honest about it. Unlike you."

He stepped closer, his body pressing against yours. "Tell me, princess. Do you like the idea of being fucked on your family's expensive table?" You could feel his erection pressing against your hip, and you could barely contain the moan that threatened to escape.

"Tell me. Is this turning you on? The idea of being used like a cheap whore, your father just down the hall."

"Fuck you." You shakily breathe out. “You'd like that, wouldn't you? For me to bend you over and fuck your tight little pussy. Make you scream my name while your daddy is sipping his scotch, completely oblivious."

"Enough Toji.”

"What's the matter, princess? Don't want your daddy to know what a dirty little slut you are? How you’re fucking a grimy old man.”

"I'm not a slut."

"Could've fooled me. With the way you're always begging for my cock."

"I am not!"

"Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart. We both know the truth."

You could feel your face burning, and you were desperate to put some distance between the two of you. But his body was like a brick wall, and you couldn't move.

"Get off of me."

"Why? Afraid you might enjoy it?"

"You’re…disgusting"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? If I bent you over and fucked you right here, right now. Made you scream so loud your daddy would come running. Wouldn't that be fun?"

You were furious, and you wanted nothing more than to kick him where the sun doesn't shine, but the truth was, his words were turning you on. You couldn't deny the heat that was pooling between your legs, or the way your nipples were straining against your shirt.

"What's wrong, princess? Cat got your tongue?"

"Fuck. You."

"Mm, that's more like it."

His hand snaked up your shirt, his fingers grazing your nipples. You couldn't stop the moan that escaped your lips, and you cursed yourself for being so weak.

"That's right, baby. Let me hear you."

"Stop it."

"Why? You don't like it?"

"No."

"Liar."

He tweaked your nipples, and you had to bite your lip to keep from crying out. "You like that, don't you? You like being manhandled by a real man. Not some preppy rich boy."

"Please."

"Please, what? Stop? Or keep going?"

"Keep…going."

"That's what I thought."

His hand dipped lower. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say you wore this skirt for him. For easy access, of course. The way it hugged your curves, the way it rode up just enough to tease him, it was all too perfect. He couldn't help but think you knew exactly what you were doing. His hands slid up your thighs, feeling the soft fabric and the warmth of your skin beneath. As he lifted the skirt higher, his breath hitched, and he couldn't wait to ruin you. His fingers brushing against the growing wet spot on your pink laced panties.

"Such a dirty little slut. Look at you, already soaking wet and I've barely touched you."

"Fuck."

"Mmm, you want that, don't you? You want me to fuck you. Right here. Right now. In your daddy's house. Where he could walk in any minute and catch us."

"Please."

"Beg me."

"Please, fuck me."

"Good girl."

He pressed his thumb against your clit, and you couldn't stop the moan that escaped your lips.

"That's right, baby. Let me hear you."

You gripped the edge of the table, trying to steady yourself as he continued to assault your senses. His fingers were relentless, teasing and stroking, and soon, you were a writhing mess.

”Open your mouth.” he commands, a mischievous glint in his eyes. your mind is foggy, and you find yourself following his directions, opening your mouth slightly. You winch as his fingers dig into your cheeks, a glob of spit trickling from his mouth into yours. You can taste the acidity and bitterness as it slides down your throat. Your mind screams to pull away, but your body ignores it. The corners of his mouth twitch into a grin, his fingers leaving your face to grip your hair tightly.

The first slap sends your head flying, a dull ache beginning in the right side of your skull. He holds you in place and slaps you again, this time your teeth cut into your lip and the metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. His eyes narrow, the grip on your hair tightening.

“Gonna fix you.”

"Please. Please."

"What? What do you want, princess?"

"I want… I want you."

"You want me to fuck you? To make you come?"

"Yes. God, yes."

"Say it."

"Please, fuck me."

"That's what I thought."

He pushed your panties aside, his fingers delving into your slick heat. You moaned, unable to contain the pleasure coursing through your body. He smirked, watching your expression as he slowly finger-fucked you.

"God, you're so fucking wet."

"Please. Please, don't stop."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

He added another finger, stretching you further. You cried out, the sensation almost too much to bear. Toji presses the sloppiest kisses on your neck as he finger fucks you, paid of his thumb still working your sticky clit. You know it’s risky to be doing this, your father could come out at any moment. But, when Toji’s slender fingers prod into your mushy pussy, all rationality leaves your mind. All you can think about is his fingers pumping in and out of you.

Your thighs begin to tremble, and you can feel your orgasm building slowly but surely. Your toes curl, and your body begins to shake. You dig your nails into his shoulders, trying desperately to ground yourself. He continues his assault on your pussy, his fingers moving in and out of you at a rapid pace. “Ah she’s gushin’ all over me.” He laughs, watching your body spasm.

“Toji…please."

"Please what, princess?"

"I need...I need..."

"What? Tell me."

"I need to come."

"Not yet."

"Please. Please, I'm begging you."

"Oh, I love it when you beg. But not yet."

He withdraws his fingers, and you whimper at the loss. He smirks and sucks his fingers, licking the juices from them. You can't help but stare at him, transfixed by his movements.

"God, you taste good. I could eat this pussy all day."

"Please."

"Patience, princess."

He turns you around and bends you over the table, your ass in the air. You can feel his erection pressing against your leg, and you know he wants this as much as you do. He pulls down his pants and frees his cock. It's big and thick, and you can't help but lick your lips. He strokes himself a few times, coating his cock with your juices.

He rubs the head of his cock against your wet slit, and you can feel yourself getting wetter. You can't believe how turned on you are, how desperate you are to feel him inside of you. "Fuck me. Please, fuck me."

He has to clamp a hand over your mouth when he begins sheltering his beefy length into your cunt. Your scream is muffled by his hand, and he slowly pushes into you. The stretch is intense, and you can't help but clench around him. He grunts, his grip on your hips tightening.

"God, princess, your pussy is so fucking tight."

You can't help but push back against him, wanting him deeper. despite the searing pain between your legs. He continues his assault on your pussy, thrusting in and out of you. Your moans are muffled by his hand, eyes rolling back into your head. It feels so good, “Shittt—ughm, can’t have you getting us caught.”

Toji whispers into your ear, the heat of his breath sending shivers down your spine.

He removes his hand from your mouth and wraps it around your throat, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.

"God, you're so fucking hot."

You can't form words, the pleasure taking over.

He squeezes so hard you think you might pass out, but then his hand is gone, and he's pounding into you at a frenzied pace. "Fucking hell." He groans, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room.

You try to stifle your moans, but it's no use. He's relentless, driving into you again and again, his cock hitting all the right spots.You feel like heaven around him, walls constricting around his aching cock. He can't believe how lucky he is to have a little cockslut like you.

He fucks into you with reckless abandon, the table scraping against the floor. The sound of skin slapping is deafening, and the smell of sex permeates the air.

He reaches around and rubs your clit, tears streaming down your face.

"That's right, princess. Take it."

Your entire body is shaking, the pressure building until it's unbearable. He removes his hand from your throat and slaps your ass, the sharp pain pushing you closer towards the edge. You cry out. “ Q-Quie—“ he’s cutting you off as he slams his cock deep into you, the force of his thrust causing the table to squeak and shudder. “Shut up. Talk t-to much.” He mutters, shoving two of his fingers into your mouth to muffle your moans.

The taste of yourself on his fingers sends you spiraling into oblivion. Your pussy clenches around him, and he groans.

"Oh fuck."

He pounds into you, his own release imminent.

"Gonna fill this little pussy with my cum."

He grips your hips tightly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. "Toji. Toji. Oh, fuck. Fuck." You cry out, stars exploding behind your eyes as your orgasm tears through you.

He groans and buries his cock deep inside of you, then he’s retracting. Thick white cream built at the base of his shaft, coating his cock in slickness. His eyes roll back at the sight of the pearlescent liquid smeared along his length. A thick layer coats his hand as he slides his fist along his member, his fingers moving easily from the wetness.

His balls draw up as his pleasure increases, his ass clenching with his need for release. Once again, you’ve got him cumming in under ten minutes. He hates it, but damn you feel so good.

"Fuckin’ killin me, can’t last with you.” He groans as he shoots his load on your ass.

You lay there, panting, trying to catch your breath.

"Fuck. You're perfect, princess."

You can't help but moan as he spreads your pussy from behind, his tongue lapping up the mixture of your juices.

"Tastes so good. I can't get enough."

You can't speak, the sensation too much for your spent body.

He continues his assault on your pussy until you're a whimpering mess, begging him to stop. He finally relents, standing up and tucking himself back into his pants.

"I think we made quite the mess, princess."

He smirks, the sight of you bent over the table, his cum dripping down your thighs a beautiful sight to behold.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of it. Just relax."

He scoops you into his arms, and carries you up the stairs, careful not to make a sound. He lays you on the bed, and kisses your forehead.

"Get some rest, princess. I'll see you in the morning."

You drift off to sleep, his seed still leaking out of you. You can't help but smile, knowing that this isn't the last time you'll have him inside of you. You'll make sure of it.

[angelfishe]

𝐒.𝐎.𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐄

>> blue lock men x yor!reader

Characters : isagi yoichi, Meguru bachira, nagi Seishiro, reo mikage, rin itoshi, sae itoshi

( I always wanted to try this type of crossover with my other works, should I do more of this type of crossover with the other fandoms. )

Isagi yoichii

- you and him were classmates throughout middle school and developed a friendship that soon blossomed into a romance as you guys get older.

- after years of being together, he started noticing things from you. You can sneak up on him as well as your unnatural strength. You once rip the door handle so easily. That something he's unable to do

- as well as during practice you visit him once, and was curious about soccer and he offered to teach you how to kick the ball, and when it's your turn after his demonstration, after you kicked it the ball launches itself caught it on fire due to moving in incredible speed as well destroying the net of the goal.

- this feat leaves him in shock, while your trying to explain your unusual strength he finds it amazing, holding your hand stopping midway of you explaining and looking at you with stars on his eyes and asking you to teach him how to kick like that.

Meguru Bachira

- he met you, when he was under the bridge after being bullied by his teammates due to him being the cause of them losing the game. He was caught off guard of someone hanging upside down looking at him and that person was you due to hearing him muttering and trying to find the source of the sound.

- he was caught off guard as well surprised, and you were just asking if he was okay because you heard him crying. muttering. And instantly he soon found someone to connect with.

- you guys began to hang out together, meeting after school or practice to talk and walk together and feeling started to emerge, he found you both live close together. And during these walks you guys were walking on a hill an old woman gets robbed and you immediately jump down from the hill and chase the thief and retrieve the old woman purse.

- when he caught up to you the thief was knocked out on the floor after you sent them flying from a kick, he immediately jumped into your arms and confessed to you. He's bullies are afraid of you cause every time you visit his practice, you would send them a glare from afar.

Nagi Seishiro

- he met you when he accidentally fell asleep on the school stairs and you thought he was someone sick and carried him to the nurse office and on midway he woke up and found you carrying him bridal style without a sign of struggle "Woah, your strong" .

- after the nurse checked on him, you and him were walking to the gate of the school to go home it was silent, he asked if you played games unfortunately you don't which he kinda found disappointing because he wants to get your UID so if you do you guys can play together. And if you do, you guys would play together and talk about the game as well often hanging out with each other.

- he hangs out with you due to you not judging him, he finds you sweet and nice to hang around, one time a group of male students from a losing team was planning on beating him cornering him on an alley way, he originally thought of running away but they manage to land a few hits on him, before he could react you appear out of nowhere sending a kick on one of the guys and sending them flying, the group look at you and you send them a glare leading them to grab their unconscious friend from the ground running and yelling apologies

- you check on him asking if he was alright and if they did any harm to him, and before he could react you immediately carried him on bridal style and rushed him to the nearest hospital, good thing he only received bruises which is not bad, you take him home and say goodbyes. After that day you guys become closer and manage to get into a relationship, and when he feels tired or sleepy you would be carrying him anywhere. he is like a koala and would always cling on to you. And you wouldn't mind

Reo Mikage

- you were hired to be his bodyguard by his parents, you would protect him from hidden danger. He didn't think much of it and always brushed you off because he never once encountered any danger and think he's parents was very overprotective of him but little did he know the reason why he never once encountered any danger was because of you taking out any danger left and right making sure it goes unnoticed.

- at school you and him would be in different spotlights, him being very popular as well having multiple admirers and followers in school unfortunately for you, you were isolated by the population as well the majority of reo admirers calls you reo stalker as well talking behind your back fully knowing you are able to hear them. They are unable to go further due to reo tend to tell them to knock it out. He doesn't hate you just he sees you as his parents barging in on his life not allowing him to have privacy.

- but one time, when the school was having a field trip to Okinawa he was walking alone on the beach and suddenly he was knocked unconscious by a group of kidnappers. He woke up tied up as well in a ware house in the middle of nowhere believing he was gonna die as well regretting straying away from you as well disregarding your protection over him suddenly the lights turn off and turn on again and the kidnappers was on the ground and you standing on top of them, you are their to rescue him, you ask him to close his eyes because you don't want him to see what's about to happen.

- after the police were involved and arrested the kidnappers some were found dead but mostly were injured badly to the point of needing to go to the hospital for it. He would apologize to you and thank you for saving him, he soon opened up to you and became closer to you. He would stop anyone from bad mouthing your name. And said he would try his best to protect you as well. He made a promise to you he would be by your side no matter what.

Rin itoshi

- you were his class mates, originally he didn't pay much attention towards you, also because he usually was busy with soccer, one time during practice he saw you and your friend sitting together doing homework he didn't think much of until one of his teammates lost control of the ball and was about to hit your friend until you kick it away before it could hit her sending the ball flying in the sky. You immediately went to comfort your friend who was scared, his teammates were sent to go search for the ball but now his attention is now on to you.

- that feat isn't something normal with that power as well as the reaction speed you are by far stronger than you look, you manage to send the ball flying 200 meters is something incredible as well reacting very fast. He started to observe you by far you are physically stronger than you look as well being able to sneak up on a person. Even on him and by far after the data he collected he concluded you are a much stronger player than he was as well as his own brother.

- after school you were approached by him,asking if you could do him a favor. He took you to the court and asked you to teach him how to kick like you, you were confused but he explained about the incident with your friend. As well as asking have you ever played soccer but you never have. This left him astonished but he decided to let it go.

- but now he has started to ask for your training method as well hanging out with you, he started to approve of his physical strength thanks to you. And he would visit your apartment to play video games together.

Sae itoshi

- your little brother and rin started to play together and that's how you and him met, you and him are just friends but soon feeling blooming until when he was sent to Spain to play in the pros league.

- after 2 years, he unexpectedly ran into you in Spain ( you were there because of a target ), you and him stopped at a cafe to catch up on each other's lives he asked you why you were in Spain and you immediately avoided the question totally changing the topic and he concluded it's involvement with work you being their.

- he started to notice something, when you guys were visiting a museum you were focused on the sword collection looking at it with amazement as well as possessing physical strength, you once kicked a deranged stalker who was planning on hurting him. He always makes one mental promise to never anger you or challenge you on a duel because he knows he would immediately lose towards you.

- you and him live together in an apartment in one of the most expensive areas in Spain. You both have high paying jobs for the apartment and when the neighbors come introduce themselves to the new couple in the building you were blushing but he didn't deny you guys being a couple.

[marxalittle]

as someone who has spent a good deal of time working with horses, and was a girl for most of that period, without being a horse girl but under the guidance of two of them (one former, one active, both full adults and indeed my own older relatives), I will say this:

horses are a form of freedom

first, they are an overriding responsibility, so no one can get mad at you for not doing things when your excuse is “I’m taking care of the 1500lb animal that has its own housing, medical team, specialist diet, and accessories, that huge investment of time and capital which you made for me on the strict condition that I look after it.” the freedom of an ironclad excuse for doing or not doing anything, in the form of a hugely expensive living thing, is only rivaled by having children, and therefore neatly excuses one from motherhood. pregnancy? the horse is pregnant. we have much graver concerns than dating. this aligns with the academically queer reading above, btw, I’m not arguing.

second: have you ever ridden a horse? not a trail pony who has a thousand people in the saddle every season, a horse who knows you, a horse you know? have you ever worked with an animal who is clearly at home behind those eyes to teach him things like “how to go through a gate” and “safely passing over an obstacle” and “not bucking and rolling off every goddamned piece of tack I just put on you, you colossal jackass” until she trusts you and listens to you and knows what it means when you shift your weight forward and tuck your right knee in? because that feeling, of riding a horse even if it’s just a long slow walk into the backcountry, even if it’s an agility routine under arena lights, so much more if it’s giving him his head and letting those muscles work in the sure and certain knowledge that when you pull in your heels and hands or lay your reins into his neck or turn your knee that this great thousand plus pound animal will listen and understand and do what you ask, not because you have any especial power or leverage over her but because she loves you, is a kind of freedom that is hard to describe, and is otherwise almost entirely closed to girls.

me? I was just a ranch hand. but I know what they see, when horse girls look at their horses.

"My sister, wise and insightful, points out to me furthermore that Velvet Brown and most other horse girls have a close relationship to a specific horse—The Pie, Sunlight, Moonlight, Solovey, Rhoha, etc.—that displaces the need for a human romance with its intimacy, and without the girl incurring any of the restrictive expectations of a heteronormative marriage. It is a queer relationship in the academic sense. In fact, so prevalent is this particular reading of the horse girl that there is evidently a whole academic tradition of moralizing the 'pony-mad girls' of fiction and reality as subjects with a displaced or deviant sexual fixation on horses that could derail their transitions into 'normal' heterosexual adolescents. So there you have it, we asked ‘What’s a horse girl?’ and we got our answer: Perverts, Your Honor!"

—Kristen Patterson, "How the Horse Girl Became Our Most Enduring (and Queerest) Archetype of Girlhood"

[daryltwdixon]

Summary: fluffy, domestic grumpy Joel drabble—he finds you after a trail ride with Ellie, acting all huffy like you were gone for days instead of a few hours. But for all his grumbling, he can’t seem to keep his hands off you, sneaking in every touch he can while you untack your horse.

I had this dream last night and after getting done with my morning shift at the barn (yes im a tried and true horse girl) I had to get home to write it asap. I really hope you guys don't mind my random stream of consciousness fluff ideas because I don't plan on stopping

The sun was dipping behind the mountains when you and Ellie rode back into Jackson, the warm glow stretching long shadows across the main road. The ride had been good—brisk air, the scent of pine, the rhythmic drum of hooves against the dirt. Ellie had been chatty, as always, rambling about how she totally could’ve shot that deer quicker if you’d just let her.

You laughed, nudging your horse forward as the gates swung open, and right there—like he had been waiting, though he’d never admit it—was Joel.

His arms were crossed, his mouth set in that usual line of perpetual disapproval, but the second his eyes landed on you, something softened. It was quick, a flash of warmth before he scowled at Ellie instead. “Took you long enough,” he grumbled.

Ellie huffed as she swung off her horse. “We weren’t exactly in a hurry, old man.”

“Obviously,” he muttered, though his gaze flicked back to you, sweeping over you like he was checking for any sign of trouble.

You grinned as you slid off your horse, your boots hitting the ground. Before you could even brush the dust off your pants, Joel was there, his hands bracketing your waist as he pulled you in. His lips pressed firm against yours, warm, familiar, and entirely unapologetic despite the fact that Ellie was loudly gagging in the background.

“Oh my God, can you guys not?” she groaned, dragging her horse toward the stables.

Joel ignored her, his thumb tracing along your cheek as he reluctantly pulled away, his voice gruff but low just for you. “Go get cleaned up. I got the horse.”

You tilted your head at him with a teasing smile pulling at your lips. “I'm perfectly capable to untack my own horse,”

Joel exhaled through his nose, already shaking his head. “Never said you weren't.”

“But I want to.” You met his gaze, steady and unwavering, knowing exactly how this would go.

He held your stare, jaw ticking, that stubborn streak flaring like he was about to tell you to get your ass home. But you saw it—the way his resolve crumbled almost immediately. Joel never really fought you on anything, not when you looked at him like that, not when he’d do just about anything to make you happy.

With a sigh, he muttered, “Stubborn woman,” before stepping back and nodding toward the stable. “Fine. But you brush 'em down. My back ain't gonna put up with that tonight.”

You beamed, looping your arm through his as you led your horse inside, and though he grumbled about how he was too old for this, you saw the way his fingers lingered against yours, like he had missed you the entire time you were gone.

The scent of hay and leather wrapped around you like something familiar and safe as you entered the stables with your horse in tow. Ellie was already tending to Shimmer, loudly talking about how next time she’d take you to a cool spot by the creek she found, but you weren’t paying her much mind. Joel was right behind you, keeping close, as if he still wasn’t convinced you’d made it back in one piece.

You pulled your saddle off and hoisted it over the railing, rolling your shoulders to ease the weight. Joel moved beside you, unclipping the bridle from your horse, his touch careful as he slipped the worn leather over her ears. “Good boy,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing a rough palm against the gelding’s neck. His hand brushed against yours as he stepped past, slow and deliberate, like he was making sure you felt it.

It was such a small touch, but it sent warmth curling up your spine.

“You do the brushin',” he murmured, voice low beside you. “I’ll put this away.”

You huffed a soft laugh. “Delegating, huh?”

“Yeah,” he said, deadpan, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “Gotta keep you in line somehow.”

You shot him an unimpressed look. “Oh, that’s what this is? You think you’re in charge?”

Joel gave a low huff, shaking his head as he passed behind you, his hand dragging slow along your waist. “Ain’t no thinkin’ about it, sweetheart.”

You smirked, brushing your horse with a little extra purpose. “Mm-hmm. Keep telling yourself that, Miller.”

That earned you a sharp look, but it didn’t have a single ounce of bite. He moved past you, close enough that his palm landed at your lower back, just for a moment, a quick press of warmth before he was gone. Always touching, always making sure you were there, close enough to reach.

You picked up the brush and started working through your horse’s coat, sweeping in long, even strokes while it grazed on its hay. Joel returned a moment later, settling in the stall, already working the leather cleaner into the seat of the saddle on the railing. But every time you passed near him—every time you shifted to reach another spot—his hands found you. A steadying palm on your hip. A slow drag along the small of your back. Fingers curling at your elbow, thumb smoothing over the inside of your wrist. You wondered if he was even trying to help or just wanted to stare.

“Y’know,” you mused, keeping your tone casual even as heat bloomed under every touch, “you could help.”

“I am helpin’,” he said, completely serious. “Cleanin' yer damn tack. Supervisin’.”

You shot him a look. “Uh-huh.”

Joel exhaled a slow breath, like you were really putting him through it, and finally relented. He stepped behind you, so close his chest pressed against your back as he reached around you to grab another brush. Instead of moving away, he stayed there, caging you in with warm, steady hands.

“Like this,” he murmured, guiding your hand with his own, their weight pressing down together against the horse’s coat.

You swallowed hard, heart knocking against your ribs. “You think I don’t know how to brush a horse, Miller?”

He smirked, his breath warm against the side of your face. “Just makin’ sure.”

You scoffed, but your voice came out softer than you meant it to. He was teasing you, but you could feel the way he lingered, the way he soaked up every second of being this close, like he’d been waiting for it.

Ellie made a disgusted noise from across the aisle. “Are you guys seriously flirting while brushing a horse?”

Joel barely even glanced her way. “Go home, Ellie.”

She groaned, muttering something about old people being gross as she grabbed her stuff and left. But you barely noticed. Joel’s hand was still over yours, fingers brushing slow circles into your skin, like he had no intention of letting go.

“You miss me that much?” you teased, leaning into him just a little.

Joel grunted, pressing a kiss against the top of your head before stepping away to put the brush back. “Every damn minute.”

Your stomach flipped at that, at the gruff honesty of it, no hesitation in his voice. You watched as he opened the stall door, letting your horse into the pasture for the night, his movements slow, easy—so at home here, so at home with you.

When he turned back, his hand slipped around your waist, pulling you gently from the stall. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice softer now. “Let’s go eat.”

You exhaled with a smile, warmth curling through your chest. “Fine. I’m starved.” You hesitated for just a second, then reached for his hand, fingers slotting between his as you squeezed. “And, Joel?”

He glanced down at you, his grip instinctively tightening. “Yeah?”

Your smile turned softer, quieter. “I missed you too.”

Joel didn’t say anything, but his hand slid from your waist up to the back of your neck, tilting your face up to lean into you. He kissed you slow, deliberate—like it wasn’t enough to just hear it, like he needed you to feel it. Needed to remind you, in the only way he really knew how, just how much you meant to him.

Joel Miller was never a man of many words, but the way he held you, the way he kissed you in moments like this...it said more than words ever could.

[flattocatto]

Gym glow

a fanfic based off the art by the TALENTED @thatbunnibaby on X. i drool at their art at least 5 times a day. idk if i should make a part two heheheh

synopsis: Sevika had the gall to invite you to the gym with her. She wanted to spot you, help you build muscle. All the meanwhile, she’s a terrible distraction… a terribly sexy one.

sevika x f!reader (lets be real shes for the girlies), gawking, reader has like never been to the gym (sorry gym girlies), writer hasnt been to the gym jn four years…, i dont know the currency but google told me, probably incorrect use of gym equipment, reader has 0 muscle built (that is the only body description)

nicknames she used on you: doll, princess, munchkin

WORD COUNT: 3,590

The fact that Zaun had a gym was news to you. Last time you checked, all Zaun truly advertised was bars, gangs and Shimmer. The address that was given to you on a napkin was messy, some back alley off of the Lanes. Under it read, ‘5:30 am. 5 silver cogs per admission. Don’t be late. - S’. The ‘don’t’ had been underlined four times.

It boggled your mind that you had gotten into talking to Sevika last night. You barely remembered it. Probably because of the several rounds you recall her ordering for the two of you. All you remember about being invited to the gym in the first place is you got caught staring.

“Is there something on my abs or something?” The woman had teased you.

You had said something along the lines of, “No! I like your muscles,” or some other. It was so much easier to remember Sevika’s voice. It almost demanded authority… and well, it was hot. What could you say?

And the next thing you know, you were roped into not only waking at the crack of fucking dawn, but waking up still hungover. You had only gone to bed at 1 in the morning too. Your brain was not agreeing with you at all, stumbling to get something to wear. You changed into some suitable clothes to leave, and packed a bag with some gym clothes. Also known as that one pair of sports shorts you splurged on for a New Year’s resolution years ago, and an old tank top.

You began the walk down to the general location of the gym. At 5 am, The Lanes were quieter, minus a few people sleeping or passed out drunk. The directions on the napkin were odd. ‘Pass the pawn shop, turn into the alley on the east. Walk past the food stall — first door on the left.’ You had to check the napkin at least 10 times before you stood in front of the door. A sign on the door said in big, bold letters, ‘gym entrance.’

Pushing open the door, you were met by a woman at the front counter. She was messing around with the chipping wood of the desk before she looked up at you. The door to the gym (you assumed) was blocked off by a gate — that the woman at the counter could probably open.

You approached the counter and placed the 5 silver cogs down. The woman took them with a grin, making sure they were real. She analyzed each coin, before she nodded. “One hour. Be out by 6:30.” She moved over the desk to open the gate for you. “Change rooms are to the left.”

With an exchange of thanks you headed past the little gate and into the gym. To your right was indeed the change rooms as the lady said, but then in front of you was the gym. You looked around, to not see Sevika at all. Only some other stronger women were working out. A frown fell on your lips, but you quickly allowed your face to relax. Maybe she was changing. Going up to the change room, you see there is no sign to separate genders. Odd… every gym you had seen in magazines and heard of in books normally separated men, women and others.

The door squeaked as you pushed it. The hinges definitely needed some sort of TLC, grease or whatever. You headed to a nearby bench and began to change into the clothes you had brought. Face to the wall of the bench. Not wanting to stare at anyone else potentially changing.

Just as you were taking off your shirt, the light you had around you was cut off by a dark, larger shadow. You almost felt frozen. Well, you were. You didn’t move past your arm half stuck in your sleeve. A chuckle came from the figure at that. “Don’t be so scared now. Surprised you even remembered to show up.”

You let out a sigh of relief, knowing that voice. You look up and back to confirm your suspicion, meeting your eyes with Sevika’s. The older woman stepped back some, arms crossing over her chest. “Well? Don’t let me stop you from changing,” Sevika spoke firmly.

It was obvious she wasn’t leaving until you were finished. You nodded, a little too fast, continuing to get undressed. It didn’t take too long, all you knew is she was watching you. Which, of course, made you go quicker. Not like she needed to see all that. Even if you wanted her to…

You turned around to face her and — for the love of all that was holy, whatever she had on? Was not making you feel holy. Whatever it was, it was tight. A sports bra that hugged every aspect of her chest… though terribly. It rather exposed it, as well as her abs. They were toned and defined from her efforts, and down… a lovely happy trail. You couldn’t help but ogle at it, a little too long.

“My eyes are up here,” Sevika said lowly, a smile to her face. It caused you to look up again, meeting her eyes.

“Sorry,” you apologised, then looked away. A flush rose on your cheeks quicker than you’d like to admit, the embarrassment hitting you as quick as a chilly wind.

The two of you headed out to the gym part, it only being you two this early. The place had seemingly just opened. Sevika didn’t even mind the solitude, she just walked to the rack of dumbbells. They were worn down. To you, it was obvious the equipment wouldn’t be top class. This was Zaun, after all. Sevika grabbed one, for her one organic arm. A 40 pound one, then motioned toward the rack for you.

“Grab some. We’re gonna warm up.”

“With these?” You grabbed a set of 5 pound ones. Too light… you went up to 10, which was comfortable enough. But you set them back, grabbing the 15 pound ones. These were better — if you went up any more in weight, it’d be a jump to 25. A gap in the pattern.

Sevika just nodded, looking at you. Blank faced. “You’ve never worked out like this before, huh?”

Embarrassment quelled within you again. Like a gnawing anxiety. You felt scrutinized, even though Sevika didn’t look like she was scrutinizing you. You shook your head left and right in response, earning a chuckle from the other woman.

“It’s a new place, I wouldn't expect as much from a girl like you… no offence. It’s pretty easy once you get the hang of it. You gotta warm up so you don’t break your muscles.”

You just nodded as she explained. The dumbbells in your hands had gone down with your arms to your sides in her explanation. She then moved one leg in front of the other, bending it forward. The one behind her was slightly bent too, yet not on the floor. Like she was getting down on one knee, except wider in the length of the stature.

She looked over at you, “Copy me. Come on now, don’t just stand there like a deer in headlights, doll.”

Quickly you copied her movements, lunging down as she did. You were a tad wobbly with the dumbbells on your side, but eventually you found balance with your hips.

“Good.” Sevika nodded, “Now curl the dumbbells up like this,” she demonstrated, moving the one in her hands up to her shoulder. “All the way up, just above your collarbone. 10 reps — that’s 10 times.”

You did it 10 times, as she had said. It started off quite easy, but the strain in your legs began to develop. You made a little face, one of which Sevika noticed, but made zero comment. She had already done her 10 reps. After you finished, you let out a sigh.

“Okay. Switch legs now. Do it all over again, the 10 reps.”

There was more?! You did as she said, though. You didn’t want to look weak or anything in front of her. This was essentially like a first meeting. The first one you were sober, that is. She was already in her position, and once again you were still finding damn balance.

You curled the dumbbells up, then back down, then up again. She was doing some extra reps, before she stood. You finished your last rep, standing up as well. She went to set her dumbbell back, and you did too.

“We’ll do more with those some other time,” Sevika said, before moving over to a mat again. She pat the spot next to her with her mechanical arm, to which you immediately sat next to her. “We should stretch those hamstrings of yours. Also good for the hips.”

She put her legs out in front of her. You copied. She reached out, grabbing her foot with her hand. You copied again. “You feel a pull?” She asked you.

“Yeah, kinda hurts…” you mumbled, but kept there.

She looked over at your form and tutted, “Full hand. Not just those fingers on those toes. Put your palm over your toes.”

You tried, but you could feel your knee bending a tad. With a frown, you looked over at her. “I don’t think my arms are long enough.”

“Then with your fingers, bend your foot back some. It’s gotta pull to stretch ‘em out.” She sounded much more relaxed like this. Not as gruff as she did at bars.

You did as she said and took a deep breath. It burned, it hurt. But not too bad. Nothing unbearable.

“Next leg,” she said after a few moments. You both switched legs at the same time, and repeated the motion. She was mouthing something. Numbers, counting the seconds per each ‘rep,’ it seemed.

After that, she moved her legs to sit crisscross. Almost. Except her feet were together, hands holding them that way. You mimicked her, as usual, silently. She moved her legs up a little then down, almost pressed to the floor. Then she leaned forward as her legs were down. It was a pretty sight, you had to pick your damn jaw up to copy the movement.

While you could only get your head slightly close to the floor, her forehead was much closer to the mat. She was focused, face tense with it. You kept staring, even as you copied her movements.

When she leaned up again, she looked over to you. Catching you staring. Caught, again, staring at her. Again. She did tell you to copy her, though, so she couldn’t blame you too much. “You enjoying the show, princess?”

You looked away, sitting up again like she did. Swallowing, you avoided the question. “You’re a good teacher.”

Sevika let out a breath of a laugh at that, standing up again. “Sure thing. You ever deadlifted?”

You shook your head, and she went over to grab a barbell. She set it on the ground, motioning for you to go by it. As you did, she grabbed another, a larger one. Yours was thinner, a little bit shorter too. She didn’t grab any of those little worn out plates, though. She set her bar next to yours.

“Put your feet apart like this, not too much, like shoulder width.” She moved her feet, about a foot and a half apart. You copy that, again. It felt like you were a toddler being taught to walk at this rate with how much you mimicked her. She nodded at your form then continued. “Make sure the bar is at the midpoint of your foot here. Like over the middle. Then bend over, like there’s some stool or whatever behind you. Kinda like a squat…”

You do as she said, but you leaned a little too forward. She noticed, and shook her head. “No, that’s how you’ll hurt yourself and fall on your ass. Y’gotta make it so your shins are parallel with the bar if you were gonna lift it up. Now grab it, get a good grip there. Not directly shoulder width this time.” She demonstrated, and you nodded, doing as she said. “Good, yeah. Now, pull up, but don’t be all limp. Keep those muscles tense. Again, so you don’t fall on your ass.”

You did as she said, lifting the bar up. It was quite light. Sevika nodded at your movements, heading over to you. She placed her flesh hand on your back, the mechanical one just under your boobs. She straightened your back out. “Keep your back straight. Won’t strain as much. Always keep your gaze forward, to prevent neck strain. Put it down.” She moved her hands away, resting them on her hips as she stepped back.

With a nervous swallow, you set the bar down. Reversing the motion from before. “Lift it back up,” Sevika commanded, to which you complied, heeding her earlier advice. Back straight. Gaze forward. It felt more natural. Less… well, less tense, despite being tense to lift it.

Sevika nodded and smiled a little. Just a quirk of her lips upright. “Now y’won’t throw your damn back out lifting, huh?”

“Thanks,” you said in response.

“No issue. Can’t have a pretty thing like you gettin’ hurt.” There that smile was. Slyer, gap toothed and… well, attractive. She went over to the rack of worn weight plates, grabbing two 25’s. “Here, put these on your bar.” She handed you one.

You both began putting the plates on your barbell, then clamping them on so they didn’t slip off. She grabbed two 50’s for her bar, as if it was nothing. With her prosthetic arm, of course, it would be nothing. After she made sure her bar was all set, she got in formation as she had taught you. “Let’s do 10 reps again, mm?” She already started before you could argue.

You stood there and just stared at her a little bit. Ogling, sure, but damn was she something. That focus back on her face, lips slightly pursed, muscles bulging… it was doing something to you. The way her thighs swelled with each up and down, it was mesmerizing. You snapped yourself out of it and began to do your own reps, as she instructed.

It was easy to start, as usual. Then once your muscles tired it grew more difficult. Still, you pressed on, once again wanting to impress her. When you finished, you set it down almost shakily. Your arms were sore, they felt like noodles. You looked over at her, catching her being the one looking.

“Not too bad for your first time, munchkin.”

“Munchkin?” You looked at her, brow slightly furrowed.

“Yeah. You ain’t got any muscle on ya. Essentially a munchkin.” She smirked, and began to take the plates off her barbell. A few more people were coming in now, seeing as it was a little past 6 in the morning. You took the plates off yours as well, tossing the clamps in the little bucket with the rest. You put your barbell back in the stand, and Sevika didn’t. You looked over at her, hand going to grab your barbell again. “Nah,” she shook her head, picking hers up easily with her mechanical arm. “I’m gonna teach you how to bench press right. Keep that bar there, c’mon.”

She led you two over to a bench, setting the barbell down on the bar catch. She motioned to the bench. “Lay back on it. Legs on either side, head at the little separator part up top. You want your shoulders at about where the bar is so you can put your arms up comfortably at a 90 degree angle there.”

You did as instructed, once again. To test, you lifted your arms to grab the bar. It was a tad too high, and you were a bit too forward, so you shifted down. Sevika, on the other hand, took the bar off and moved the bar catches down one slot.

“Try that. Is it low enough that you can bend your arms slightly to put it in the catch?” Sevika asked, and you reached again. It was much more comfortable, you tested by lifting the bar a bit. You could lift and put it back.

You nodded, affirming more with a soft, “Yep. Seems alright.”

“Good. Take it off the rack. Arch your back slightly, then bring the bar down comfortably…” you did as directed again, as she spoke. “Yeah, like that. Then push it back up.”

It felt a lot easier than the deadlift so far. Yet you were scared you’d drop it and snap your damn neck. But it wasn’t too heavy, not with any weights. Still heavier than your deadlift bar, but not overwhelmingly so. You did a few reps like that before she could even tell you, before you put it back on the bar catch.

The stronger woman had her arms crossed over her chest, nodding a bit. “Keep that form. I’m gonna go get some plates for you.”

She left you. Lying there, staring at the ceiling. You didn’t bother to move an inch, not wanting to defy her. She was back in a few moments, applying two 10 pound weights to each side of the bar. Then she grabbed some clamps to stick them on.

“I’ll be spotting you,” she said, and moved back toward your head. “Do a couple reps. As much as you feel you can.”

She rested her hands on her waist as she watched. You grabbed the bar and when you set your head back against the bench again… you got a face full of boobs. Well, not literally. They were like the only part of Sevika you could see. You swallowed your saliva, your throat suddenly dry. Like you ate a cup of sand. Drank? Ate…? Whatever. You did your reps as she said.

You kept pushing on. You could do a few more, you said in your head. Trying to look cool for her. Knowing Sevika, she was probably counting. Your arms shook slightly, each time getting more shaky. You went to put it back on the catch but slipped. This was it, you were about to be choked out by a damn barbell on your first time. All because you tried to impress the woman whose boobs were the only thing you saw going out. An honourable way to die. Eyes full of a pretty lady’s breasts.

Except it never fell. And you were breathing, alive, startled. You had shut your eyes at some point, and opened them to find Sevika setting the bar in the catch herself. She looked down at you, and you could actually see her face now. “You can’t let yourself be distracted,” she said lowly, “and you shouldn’t push yourself past your limits. If I weren’t here, you’d give the front desk lady a messy clean up job.”

Before you could say anything, she scooted the bench forward. “C’mon. Our time is about up anyway.” She took the weight plates and clamps again, beginning to put them away.

You grabbed the bar, heading generally to the same location she was. You put it back with the rest before you followed Sevika to the change room, flush in the face. She saved you… and you embarrassed yourself. Not too badly, but still! You would think about that too much later. When you were in bed, alone… stuck on the thought of her over you like that. Then of course your brain would remind you of your mistake.

Sevika began to change — next to your spot. Of course. Why wouldn’t she have put her stuff there. You pursed your lips and kept your eyes to yourself, changing into the extra clothes you brought. You wanted to look over so badly, but you told yourself you were one, not a pervert, and two, not looking for any trouble from the lady with a mechanical arm.

After you packed up, you looked over to Sevika who had begun to head out as well. You both left the gym, almost immediately after one another. Sevika nodded at the front desk lady, and you mumbled a quick thanks. Before Sevika could turn to leave, you couldn’t help but shoot your shot. After all, you live once, right? Well, obviously, you almost lost that ‘once’ today.

“Hey, um, Sevika,” you called out, causing her to stall. Her head turned to look at you, the look in her eyes prompting one thing — to get out with it. “Thank you for teaching me all that today. If there’s any way to repay you… let me know.”

Sevika’s lips upturned at that, and she let out a huffed laugh. “I’ll let you know for sure, doll. You’ll know.”

And with that, she turned her way. After staring, letting her words sit in your head, you turned your own way and headed back towards your place. You’d lay in bed tonight, thinking about everything. Her last words rang in your head. What did she mean by that? How would you ‘know’?!

Maybe you’d catch her at The Last Drop tonight. Maybe, just maybe you’d get drunk enough to ask what she meant. Or there’s a chance you run into her after today. At the gym again… you should really start working out more. Then you definitely would know, and it would come from those slightly asymmetrical lips of hers. And you could watch it spill past them.

| ©️ copyright flattocatto, 2025

[thedissonantverses]

With BioWare and EA doing what they are doing, maybe Dragon Age could be picked up by another company. I mean it could happen! Just like Larian produced Baldur’s Gate 3!

Yeah actually let me express this from the point of view of someone who has been here with EA and their studios several times. (like when people call VG a cash-grab I laugh in Sims fan cause you don’t know what a cash grab is). Also I’m like…32 so like….not my first rodeo lmfao.

I didn’t think Veilguard was coming out. At all. More than that, for a long while after Anthem I didn’t want it to. Finding out what BioWare had been putting its employees through really pissed me off. I have serious concerns about ME5. The reason I missed most of the fandom shenanigans and was because I was tuned out until this past summer. I had serious qualms and wasn’t sure until the last minute if I was going to buy it.

The games’ industry at large needs a massive wake-up call. But this isn’t anything new and it’s certainly not unique to BioWare and EA. And I have uh Thoughts on Larian(like thank fuck Davrin didn’t get the Wyll treatment) so I’ll leave them out of it for the moment because you’re right. I seriously doubt this is the last we’ll see of Dragon Age if for no other reason if an exec thinks it can sell we’ll get more in one way or another cause that’s capitalism for ya haha.

I have found in the last three months that I have an endless supply of hope and love in me despite the fact I was one of the most cynical people I knew at one point in my life. I uh have no interest in letting EA dictate my happiness hahahah. Like fuck em. They don’t know what they have.

I do though!!!!!!!!

I want people to take the space to be upset and especially on behalf of the team’s sake! Vent in my asks if you need to. But like idunno same shit different day I’m gonna play Veilguard and celebrate my fellow creatives and keep my head up. Ima keep praising the writers and my friends and run my little fan events and I’ll be damned if I stop because why? EA sucks?

When haven’t they?

[radical-remster]

Deadass I had to look through my archives to see what I wrote last and to no surprise at all I was writing a DMC fanfic 😭💀 anyways here it is, it’s unedited;

He should be angry, but he isn’t.

Nero couldn’t comprehend why out of all the things he could get mad over this feels more like an afterthought.

Maybe, it was because he never needed someone like his dad growing up because he always had Kyrie and Credo to look out for him.

Maybe, it was because he was used to the hole in his heart that longed to know what was missing in his life.

Or maybe, there was something wrong with him.

Two months have passed since Dante and Vergil left to the demon realm to keep the gates closed; two months have passed since he found out he had two living relatives, and two months have since passed since they both disappeared.

They were gone, and they left Nero with the heavy-duty job of protecting the human realm in their stead. Nero had not been given the time to process anything, there had quite literally been a one hour gap from when he found out who his father was to him having to say goodbye to him only moments later. At least with them gone it gave Nero time to think but that seemed to be the only thing he did nowadays, even with hunting jobs he took his thinking cost him and served as a deadly distraction. See, Nero wasn’t sure how to feel because on one hand he now knew some of the answers to the questions he’d been asking his whole life: who was he? Who cursed him to have been born with an arm like his? On the other hand, he didn’t care and that’s what bothered him. Why the hell didn’t he care more about this? Nero never had a grieving period to really mourn over the fact that he was probably never going to see Dante or his dad ever again.

So, what was the problem? He barely knew both men before everything went to shit on June 15th, his relationship with Dante was already distant considering after the attack on Fortuna all he really did was occasionally shadow over Nero to see how he was doing. He didn’t stick around long and he mostly appeared at the most random of times, he’d emerge from whatever corner he was hiding in to watch over Nero and act as if they’d been friends forever.

‘Hey kid, miss me? Hah - didn’t think so. You still have that sword from way back when? Yeah, that’s the one, I hope you’ve been taking care of it or else I’m gonna be taking it back for real this time.’

Last Sentence WIP Game

Tagged by @ilonga

You all know the drill by now: post the last line you wrote (from any WIP) and tag the same number of people as there are words.

Anakin stayed right where he was, forcing himself to breathe.

@jasontoddiefor @alabasterswriting @ghostwriterofthemachine @scandalsavagefanfic @daemoninwhiteround2 @thenafics @garpie64 @rose-blooms-red @atasteforsuicidal @sonderwalker

[genderqueerdykes]

I have PCOS and I’ve heard conflicting things about whether I can call myself intersex. I’ve seen people say that since it’s just a hormone thing, it’s not really intersex and since I wasn’t given surgeries as an infant about it, I’m not really intersex. I don’t want to step on people’s toes but I’ve also heard that since because I have hormone things that a majority of cis perisex women (I’m transmasc but all stuff online talks about cis women so) don’t have, I would be considered intersex. Sorry if this is weird, I’m just worried that if I started calling myself intersex, I’d be appropriating a label that doesn’t belong to me

PCOS is an interesex variation, you're all good! i also have PCOS :)

long winded ramble here but i haven't posted much about this before, and i have some thoughts

people who try to separate intersex variations between "hormonal" and "biological" conditions are gate keeping. that's another needless binary- many, many intersex conditions affect hormones in specific. you do not have to have mixed or ambiguous genitals to be intersex. hormone imbalances are more than enough. people who think that there's a difference between "hormonal" and "biological" intersex variations don't know what the word "biological" means, so you're free to disregard conversations like that

a lot of people are very misogynistic & intersexist and think that because there are women who pass and don't show any signs of their PCOS outwardly that they're "basically" or "just" perisex women. it really just comes down to misogyny and for some reason. idk i've met people who are... jealous of intersex people ? i used to know someone who was SO upset that they weren't intersex that they would go on long rants about how THEY should be able to call themselves intersex but not perisex women who "pass as perisex" because those people are "just perisex women and not real intersex people".

the ENTIRE REASON THIS PERSON WAS BEHAVING THIS WAY was because they wanted to call themselves a hermaphrodite. that was it. they wanted to use a slur they couldn't reclaim and were so fucking upset about it that they would bitch and moan about how a perisex cis woman with an internal teste who doesn't "LOOK" intersex shouldn't be able to call themselves intersex, but they should be able to do it because they "LOOK INTERSEX". like absolutely fucking unreal

like let's be real, this specific behavior is about misogyny, NOT caring about intersex people or furthering our rights & acceptance. people getting butthurt over PCOS being considered an intersex variation are raging misogynists & intersexists and its time we called it out. you can be intersexist if you're intersex. we are not immune.

like i've seriously seen people get so fucking upset that they can't use the term intersex for themselves that they take it out on other people. i've seen people who want to call themselves hermaphrodites so bad that they'll literally mock and harass intersex women who don't "look" intersex. it's disgusting. idk why people think intersex is like this Cool Exclusive Club but it's not. you're not stepping on anyone's toes by identifying as intersex if you have PCOS, a literal intersex condition, don't worry! OTHER PEOPLE are stepping on YOUR toes. you are intersex. i'm glad you took the time to ask! i just want to let you know that you do not have to take people's shit over this. PCOS is an intersex variation. people gotta learn to cope.

[wyattjohnston]

just between you and me - cole caufield

summary: you return to montreal after some time abroad and it unleashes a whole new slew of questions.

word count: 3,325

note: this is for @lam-ila for The Winter Fic Exchange 2k25! i hope you like it maleeha <3 thank you to @comphy-and-cozy and for all your help!!

main character: feminine reader insert

The windowpane offers a nice reprieve from the chaotic warmth being produced by seemingly everybody you’ve ever known being invited to your welcome back party. It’s well below freezing which isn’t at all unusual for Montreal, and—you’ll never admit this out loud—sitting next to the window is the closest you’re going to get to outside. Belgium had been utterly tropical in comparison and you’re ashamed by how quickly the Montreal weather became too much. The crowd of people sitting on the balcony are, quite frankly, out of their minds.

“Don’t think you should be sitting over here by yourself.”

You move your attention from the group outside to the person who just joined you, smiling gently when you realise who it is followed by a just as gentle, “Hi, Cole.”

The confusion across his face is clear and it lasts longer than just a passing second, before he’s saying your name back to you in such a questioning manner that you start to wonder if you’ve somehow been wrong all these years.

He shuffles further into the booth opposite you, leaning all his body weight onto his forearms and the table between them, and says emphatically, “No fucking way.”

You understand his reaction somewhat, knowing that the semester spent in Belgium had been eye opening and experimental, but you can only shrug at him because visibly all that’s changed about you that night is that you’ve put on some makeup and worn something a little tighter than you used to.

“You look—” he pauses, and you sigh to yourself because you know what’s coming next. “You look great. Belgium really did a number on you, eh?”

“Sure, you could put it that way.”

The compliment is nice, regardless, so you take it at face value and put your own arms on the table, leaning in towards him. He grins, toothy and all encompassing, and you’re shunted back to the small crush you’ve always had on him. It’s not anything that takes over your life; sometimes you’re not even sure it’s anything more than the thought that he’s available, but it’s enough to send butterflies into your stomach.

He tells you to stay put, and you do as you’re told even if you’re contorting yourself in your seat to see exactly where he’s gone and what he’s up to. The drink he brings back to you is what he knows as your favourite; you thank him for the soft drink, even if that’s also something that changed while you were away.

You can’t say you’re surprised when, a couple days later, you get a text from Cole asking when you’re next free which is quickly followed by another text with the days he’s free that week.

Hanging out with Cole wasn’t uncommon, though it was typically part of a larger group. It’s not explicit that this is one-on-one in any way other than Cole being the one to initiate and organise; he always left that to someone else and just showed up wherever the people were.

You leave them on your Lock Screen for most of the day and wait until the Habs game is over that night to text him back—whilst you wouldn’t give him the quick response he was undoubtedly after, there’s no way you’re going to put yourself in the position to wait by texting him mid-game.

The text you send reads “that depends what we’re doing” and it’s not until the read receipt pops up and you read it back that you realise it probably sounds quite flirty. It’s not not the message you were trying to convey but your palms get a little sweaty when it really kicks in that the flood gates have just been opened.

Cole’s unbridled joy is conveyed through his texts—the win probably doing some heavy lifting there—and the abundance of exclamation marks. Though, truthfully, they might not be that uncommon for Cole.

“We can go bowling!! Or ice skating!! Or you can come over??!!”

It’s endearing if not a little overwhelming.

Ice skating is the pick, and you can’t help but laugh at the idea of him using his day off to do more skating. It was his suggestion, and he doesn’t seem bothered by it, so you don’t bring it up at all.

He helps with your skates even though you’re more than capable; he just kneels down in front of you and starts lacing them up before you can even begin to tighten them yourself. He does look cute when he smiles up at you proudly, so you don’t have it in you to fight it.

Cole is holding your hand the moment you’re stepping onto the ice. You know how to skate and he knows you know how, so it’s not a tight, steadying grip. In fact, it’s having the opposite effect as your knees get weak because even through two pairs of thick, winter gloves you can feel every part of his hand against yours.

On the ice you can hear a guy yapping at his poor date about how good he was at hockey, how he could have gone pro, but he decided it was better for him to go to university and get a real job because of some made up reason that trailed off before he really finished his sentence. You couldn’t hide your laugh at it all, a full-bodied snort that drew the attention of the couple, so you curled into Cole to try and pretend it was something he’d said.

It did end up being Cole who was making you laugh, when he leant in closer whilst he kept you moving across the ice to repeat the guy’s ridiculous claims. The hockey bro voice he was putting on—or maybe just playing up—really sent you over the edge, and you had to hold onto him to keep upright as your laughter got to a point where breathing was problematic.

Being pulled effortlessly around the rink by Cole was something. It certainly wasn’t making it any easier to breathe, and even less so when you were able to gather some bearings and make eye contact with him. You weren’t sure anyone had ever looked at you with such softness and sincerity; you had to look away.

It’s so cliché when you step off the ice to get hot chocolate that you have no choice but to sit opposite him and ask him a question that’s been on your mind all day.

“Is this your go-to first date?”

“It’s…” he pauses briefly, sheepish. “It’s in the rotation, yeah. Seasonal. You’re my favourite.”

You avert eye contact, staring at your hands where they’re wrapped around the source of warmth that is your cup. Cole’s foot nudging against yours doesn’t do a lot to help keep your voice steady because your mind has conjured up an image of Cole and the poor date from earlier. She’s stunning, exactly the type of woman who would make a perfect WAG—no amount of makeup or otherwise traditionally feminine behaviour would ever make you feel like you could match her.

It’s with a weak voice you say, “You probably say that to all the girls.”

“No.” Cole doesn’t miss a beat. “Just you.”

Your cheeks warm instantly, and you’re filled with so much emotion that you screw your eyes shut because you don’t want to see the face he makes at your delirious smile.

Before you leave, the wannabe hockey player catches up with you and asks Cole for an autograph and a photo which are happily provided. He tells his date, before you and Cole can even get out of earshot, that he was a better player than Cole has ever been and would have gone higher in the draft had he kept up with hockey.

“Can’t believe the world doesn’t get to see the next Gretzky play just because he wants to…” he trails off into unintelligible mumbling.

The number of dates you’ve been on—and they are dates, Cole has made that exceedingly clear—is quite frankly outstanding for it having been two weeks. It feels like every day he’s free, and you don’t have classes, you’re together. It’s a lot, to be honest, but it’s not bad.

It’s not like you’ve never gone to a nice restaurant before—your parents were fans of the finer things in life, and you and your friends liked to treat yourselves on your birthdays—it’s just not something you ever pictured yourself doing with Cole. Though, to be fair, you hadn’t thought about doing much with Cole until he’d suddenly started showing interest.

The maître d’ knows Cole and you’re not so sure whether it’s because Cole is a regular or because he plays for the Habs. It’s likely both.

You don’t feel like you fit, despite any sudden interest in fashion and skincare you’ve developed—when you went out with your friends in Belgium, it was always met with judgemental, and disbelieving looks that you belonged.

You push down your discomfort and let Cole order your dinner because the menu is intimidating. He asks the waiter to bring the wine that pairs best with each course, and then turns to you and says, “Pop?”

“Just seltzer, please,” you say to Cole before turning to the waiter with a timid smile. “Thank you.”

When you turn your attention back to Cole, he’s visibly confused—his eyebrows pulled together, and his mouth pulled tight. You tilt your head, confused by his confusion but he doesn’t say anything to you.

“I don’t drink soft drinks anymore,” you explain. It doesn’t clear his confusion. “Just trying to take better care of my teeth. That seems to be the change that’s got you the most.”

“Just surprised. It’s not a bad thing.”

You tilt your head at him again, waiting for him to elaborate, but the waiter returns with your drinks and Cole easily shifts the conversation to his brother, Brock.

At the next table there’s a couple, probably in their early 50s, who are absolutely besotted with each other. You catch yourself staring at them a lot throughout the evening, hoping to learn what really makes a relationship perfect. Cole notices, too, though he stares far less at them than he does at you. When you catch him staring, the heart eyes he’s developed are enough to make your heart swell.

“You look really nice tonight,” he says after one of the times he gets caught, as if it’s not what he said the second he laid eyes on you at your front door.

The compliments have come through thick and fast since Cole came back into your life. You’re not mad about them, really, and you’re proud of what you’re now able to do with your makeup and the outfits you’re able to put together so that they are outfits and not just pants and a top, but every time he says something nice you’re reminded of the years where he said nothing of the sort—when you were just another person in the same room.

It comes out of nowhere, is much of the problem. It’s been a month, maybe two, of thoughts running through your head, of what you and Cole are and what he really thinks about you—about anything—and you’ve not asked. You probably should have because it’s not an inconsistent thought in your head about what any of this even means.

You and Cole are sitting on his couch, watching a 90s teen romcom, not having said a word for half an hour, when you sit up straight and stare at him.

He looks put out by having lost your body heat, instantly reaching out to pull you back, but you can’t get over Laney Boggs’ sudden transformation into a Prom Queen and so you start spilling a months’ worth of thoughts to him.

“I can’t keep this up, Cole,” you say with all the dramatics of the main character of a romcom.

It sort of feels like he’s in a constant state of confusion when you’re around and it adds to all the thoughts running through your head because what could he possibly see in you when he doesn’t ever seem to know what to expect next.

He asks, “Keep what up?”

“Pretending that it doesn’t kill me that you’re only interested in me now that I’m more of a girly girl.”

There’s a beat, where he stares at you, and you stare back, and his face screws up and your heart does the same, but you bite your lip because really, you need to hear something from him, anything.

“What?” he says—it’s less of a question than a silence filler. “No. No that’s—”

“But it is, though, isn’t it?” You cut him off before he can stumble over any more words. “Because you weren’t taking me on dates or showing any interest when I was drinking nothing but pop and wearing nothing but sports merch but put me in a dress with a boring water in my hand and all of a sudden you can’t get enough of me.”

“I didn’t… I don’t… I don’t care about water,” he says, staring at you like you’ve grown three heads. Maybe you have. You’re not sure exactly what you look like at that moment. Promptly more unkempt than when you showed up, maybe a little crazier in the eyes—maybe doing a reverse She’s All That while the end of the movie plays behind you.

“You can’t even deny it,” you argue back, sitting further back against the arm of the couch and putting more space between you and Cole. He’s listening to every word you say, rolling them all through his mind one by one. “I thought I was alright with it, but I can’t stop thinking about it. Would you have ever looked at me that way if everything about me hadn’t changed?”

Cole’s face changes even more at that point, the confusion morphing into something a little pained and that makes sense to you if he feels like he’s been called out. He leans forward, trying to close some of the space you’ve created, but pulls back a little when you show any sign of helping the space disappear.

His shoulders fall and he says confidently, “I’m into you, babe. Just you.”

There’s part of you that wonders why he hasn’t made a move. There have been makeouts and cuddling but nothing more and you’re not mad about that at all, you’re quite happy that the pace has been slow in that respect, but the fact that it hasn’t come up at all has been playing on your mind because is he into you? Any version of you?

It’s not the most burning question in your mind right then, though, and you manage to get out, “But would you have ever asked me out the way I was before Belgium?”

“I didn’t…” All his confidence is gone. “I didn’t think of you that way before.”

You nod and stand, knowing that staying in that room is going to hurt even more than the conversation you’ve just had. So you say, “Okay,” as you’re walking to the door and following it up with, “That’s all I needed to know,” when you’re turning the doorknob.

Cole is standing, too, though he’s not moving towards you. He’s standing by the couch, looking small and curled in on himself. Your heart breaks just a little bit more when he asks, “Are we—Are we breaking up?”

Despite all the dates and the time you’ve been spending together, you’re not even sure that you’re at a point where you can ‘break up’. There’s been no conversation about what you are outside of calling the time you’re spending together dates.

“I don’t know what we are, Cole,” you say, tired and desperate to get out of his house and be alone. “I just need some time to think.”

You can hear your roommate open the front door, immediately telling whoever is there that you don’t want to see them. It’s not hard to connect the dots. Especially not when they line up perfectly with the Habs returning from a road trip.

Cole is talking before your roommate has even finished speaking, hurriedly trying to say he just wants to talk to you, and nothing else, and he has to explain things and the more the talks the faster he gets, and your roommate is trying to get a word in but Cole isn’t letting her.

It’s not anybody else’s job to be your bodyguard, so you prepare yourself mentally to rescue her from his rapid-fire speech. There’s no physical effort to put in, especially not when you putting in effort is what caused all your problems to begin with, so you step into the hall wearing a two-sizes-too-large Habs shirt with a hole in each armpit and the shorts made of sweatpants material that haven’t been seen outside your house since prior to you leaving for Belgium. Your skincare routine may or may not have been neglected in the last 48 hours, you don’t actually remember. The spots brewing suggest it’s more like in the may not column.

Yet, despite that, Cole’s eyes are on you the second you’re in his line of sight, and the relief rolling off him is palpable. He stops talking, finally taking a breath, and you just nod at your roommate when she silently asks if you actually want to do this. She takes a deep breath, waits half a second for you to change your mind, and then leaves you and Cole standing in your small entry hall.

“Sorry about the road trip,” you say, suddenly struck by his silence after how fast his mouth had been moving before you were standing in front of him.

“I’m sorry.” He sounds desperate, even more so than when he was begging to see you. “I—I’m into you. I don’t want whatever you think I think to get in the way of that.”

“But you weren’t into before I looked different.”

“You don’t look that different,” he counters. “I don’t think you’re wearing any make up right now and I am still really into you.”

Your cheeks warm, and you struggle to get out anything because you truthfully don’t have a lot of will to argue with him if he’s into you. You do manage, “You never showed any interest before,” which is just a repeat of everything you’ve already said.

“Then you disappeared for months, and I realised I missed you. The timing isn’t great for whatever you think is going on, but I promise I like you. A lot. And I want to keep going on dates and hanging out and all of that stuff. You can wear whatever you want or don’t want, it makes no difference to me.”

“Why didn’t you say any of that last week?”

He laughs, a snort which is largely self-deprecating, “I couldn’t wrap my head around what you were saying because it didn’t make sense to me. Kind of put me on the spot there, babe. Also felt like a bit of a trap with the movie if we’re being honest with each other.”

You sigh, “The movie was an accident. It did, uh, cause everything to kind of burst, though.”

“Can we go back to hanging out? To dating? The last week’s sucked sorta hard.”

You can’t disagree that it’s sucked sorta hard. Despite needing the time to think about it, the absence of Cole’s silly texts throughout the day or his random minute-long phone calls because his thought was too much for a text had left a huge gap in your day that you hadn’t even realised he’d been filling.

It’s easy, then, to move towards him and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close.

[lilies-in-the-attic]

Tin foil hat time: does anyone else get the vibe that Lily hates (mostly) male characters that are headcanoned by the fandom to be autistic because they don’t line up with her own diagnosis journey?

The only autistic HC’d character (because the writers actually deny they wrote him to be autistic quite a lot, which I know is like The Village People denying that YMCA is a gay anthem but it be like that) she seems to approve of is Sheldon Cooper — a character widely disavowed by the autistic community — because Sheldon is constantly shit on by all of his friends and treated like a joke.

Laios (Dungeon Meshi), Hunter (The Owl House), Twilight Sparkle (MLP), N (Pokemon), Sam (Atypical), I think also Astarion (Baldur’s Gate 3)? All of these characters have active support systems that love and cherish them for who they are, despite their atypicalities, and Lily fucking HATES this. She had a borderline meltdown over Laios in her first DM review, Hunter and Astarion are constantly the target of her hatred under the guise of “stupid white boy” (even though I feel Hunter is meant to be Mediterranean or at least mixed but whatever), N also gets this treatment with the added bonus of Lily cheering on his abuser, Sam gets dismissed as rep because he has “too many symptoms” and it’s “cheerleading”…

I find the Twilight one particularly interesting as she’s the only girl on the list but Lily dismisses the fandom headcanon because Twilight doesn’t “struggle” enough. You know who she DOES HC as autistic, though? Rainbow Dash. And do you know how Rainbow is portrayed in Stockholm? That’s right, a hypersexual, intersex child rapist that gets tossed in the looney bin.

It would seem to me, then, that Lily thinks a person (usually a straight male) can only be autistic if they’re a constant nuisance to everyone that has to perpetually apologize for their existence and always work to be unheard and sink into the background. I would almost feel bad for her if she wasn’t an incestuous molester herself, because this is likely a form of projection. She, identifying as a boy when these diagnoses would have been given, was likely diagnosed under these circumstances and never worked to unlearn that. Much like being trans, autistic joy is also a thing, and we shouldn’t have to apologize for our existence.

[yandins-beleagured-historian]

OKAY SO,

because the Iron Fists are a (semi) homebrew chapter and therefore by definition a whole CHAPTER of OCs, let's limit the scale of this to five particularly prominent members of the chapter.

Cosrau Yandin

One-time sergeant of the sixth squad (tactical), Second Company, now captain of the Seventh, this boy is our PoV character. He's a lovable little control freak who's read everything in the Chapter's tactical, technical and historical archives because no-one told him not to. As an initiate, his mentor imbued him with a particularly noble view of how a company is supposed to work and what the relationships between ranks are supposed to look like. Cosrau is perpetually disappointed and frustrated by those that don’t honour that picture, least of all himself. He's currently trying to speedrun the Astartes-equivalent of burnout and shake off the feeling that everything that happens to his subordinates is his fault. Career highlight - charging a Chaos Terminator lord with nothing but a combat knife and a meltagun, and not dying. Favourite question: “What do you need from me in order to do your job?”

Samas Tenebra

Cosrau's direct superior during his time in the Second, Captain Samas Tenebra is everything you'd want in a mythologised superior. He's a dyed-in-the-wool assault marine with a flair for the dramatic, an overdeveloped sense of vengeance, and a nothing-but-cheese approach to strategy. He's lead the Second to a number of successes over his seventy-year tenure, which can largely be attributed to two factors. One: he's cultivated a highly competent pool of subordinate leaders, and two: he keeps throwing himself at the highest value objective in the battlespace - often from several miles up. By the time of Cosrau's own captaincy, Samas Tenebra would be raised to First Captain, fail to save both his predecessor and his successor, and would die trying to fight a Chaos Titan as Imperial forces pull back across the Stygius sector. Cosrau's favourite Tenebra-Legend: That time he killed nine terminators atop Eidolon's ruined command bunker on the day the Indomitus Crusade arrived at Taralus. Tenebra's least favourite Tenebra-Legend: That time a Thousand Sons Sorceror prophesied his death, amongst other things Oh, the gates swing wide for Him, do they not? Varl hungers for your sixth, o shadow. Pray to your corpse-god for his sake that it is only the empyrean that comes to swallow him up!

Harcast

Oho, now here's the spooky lad. Sixth Captain Harcast is, on paper, somewhat of a kindred soul to Yandin. While records are hazy, it is known for sure that before his current posting, he was a Sternguard veteran of the ninth squad, First Company, and one of the most experienced kill-team operatives in the Chapter before his promotion. It was a sensible pick - the Sixth have been infiltration and recon specialists since the days of Haya Merojan, and it's rumoured that Harcast had an in with Captain Llameharr, the previous incumbent But even for a black ops afficionado, Harcast is...weird. A scant few, Yandin included, claim him to be good-humoured, level-headed and an excellent teacher, there are many in both the First and Sixth who swear dead-to-rights that they have never seen him out of his armour, or even heard him speak. This is probably fine and normal and has absolutely nothing to do with whatever the fuck the "Legan Schola Incident" was, of which Harcast is the only listed survivor in records so buried and so redacted that ++REMOVED FOR SENSITIVITY++ Favourite/only sentimental attachment: A bespoke bolt rifle of hiiighly questionable origins that, according to legend, was boring holes through skulls a full century before anyone had so much as heard the word 'Primaris.' Leads to interview for more information: Lieutenant Trimer (missing), Ascendant Trazis (asleep), Epistoliary Tyvus (I am not going anywhere near that, and I emphasise, Senile Terminator Psyker, stop trying to get me killed Hester.)

Kastal Verchen

That's CHAPTER MASTER Kastal Verchen, thank you very much. Fifty-Second Lord Commander of the Iron Fists, High Castellan of Taralus, The Arcan Herald, the Silent Hero of Blakkspanna's Bay, etcetera etcetera. Having said all that, as far as Chapter Masters go in general, Verchen is a touch underwhelming. His most glorious accomplishment is a tie between not getting killed by Eidolon and not getting killed by an avatar of Ynnead. But not dying is perhaps Verchen's greatest skill, and one that he's somehow managed to promulgate amongst his subordinates. Granted, there's been rough spots in his relatively short tenure as Chapter Master, but he's brought a mauled chapter of less than three hundred up to more than a thousand in twenty short years. Beneath the tempered, diplomatic pragmatism is a fierce compassion that's somehow escaped the attention of other Iron Hands successors. This comes as no surprise to those with access to Verchen's full history - before his induction into the Arcan Temple, he was the best Savant-Apothecary the Iron Fists had seen in millenia, and he manages the chapter like a patient, rather than an engine of war. Favourite metalore tidbit: Kastal Verchen is one of only two named characters in the breathlessly-few scraps of canon lore on the Iron Fists - he's referenced in passing in the Battlefleet Gothic Armada rulebook "To Cleanse the Stars" as backsassing the Imperial Navy about pirates interfering with the Dudzus landings.

Mokuba Tyros

Mokuba Goddamned Tyros. Also known as "the scariest bastard ever to wear the golden gauntlet", the fifty-first Lord Commander of the Iron Fists has been terrorizing the galaxy for the last seven hundred years. He was at the Feast of a Hundred Duels when the World Eaters attacked, and came back a century later to win the Feast of Blades for the Iron Fists. Tyros led the Fifth Company over the ocean world of Poseidius VIII and personally turned Waaagh! Izdakka away from the borders of Segmentum Solar. He conducted a thousand diplomatic missions to raise support for the reclamation of Taralus, and orchestrated the subsequent campaign down to the slightest detail. When the Noctis Aeternia rolled in, Tyros drew fire away from the chapter's more vulnerable ships and gave more than a million men and women the chance to reach the homeworld's service. And when three thousand unnumbered sons dropped into Taralus' atmosphere to liberate it for good, Mokuba Tyros was the iron point of the spear. Mokuba Tyros is less of a tangible character, more of a living standard for the chapter to aspire to. He is to the common marine what the Iron Hands are to the chapter at large, and so distanced from the line troops that he might as well be a legend, glimpsed only fleetingly at the grandest of events. Even a captain might only experience two or three one-on-one encounters with him during their career, and none have ever gotten a successful read on him. All they've been able to report on the man behind the blades is that "He has given much of himself to the Chapter" - whatever the heck that means.

There was only ever one man who truly knew Mokuba Tyros - a bodyguard of the Arcan Temple, spoken in whispers of as the best Savant-Apothecary the Iron Fists had seen in millenia.

Reblog and tell me about your Warhammer OCs!!!

(seriously, I see so many cool fanart and fanfiction, I want to learn about everyone!!)

[nesepte]

Hundred Steps | Jaehyun — Preview

Pairing: Jaehyun x fem! reader

Genre: soft jaehyun, mild angst, fluff (sort of – he is cute in this), cozy, unsaid words, music(al), enemies (one-sided) to lovers, rich jaehyun, but very humble jaehyun, acts of service love language jaehyun, small town, summer, small shop owner reader - vinyl record store, coming of age (?) Word Count (Preview): 1.1k words

A/n: It’s Jaehyun's birthday month so I thought of posting this on tumblr! The whole fic will be published on his birthday. Consider it my gift to you all here xD

If anyone wants to be added to the taglist for this – leave a comment, or a message, or anything you want.

The air was warm against your cheek. The summer had ended but the heat lingered like a stubborn heart refusing to see reason. In front of you beyond the wrought iron gates, stretched the steps to your new life but you stood frozen in place.

Mind can be so fickle, and this restless heart even more so. You had waited your entire life to leave your hometown and move to the city. You had dreamed of this college every night and here it was, ready to welcome you.

But you turned your gaze behind— the city quiet from this height. Beyond the mountains in the distance amidst the swirling roads that led to nowhere, your eyes searched for him.

Jaehyun…

It was two weeks after your high school graduation. You were working late in your father’s store for vinyl records. Just a few minutes before closing time, you heard the ding of the tiny bell fixed atop the door frame. He stumbled in, trying to frantically shut his umbrella which was dripping onto the carpeted floor. His brown pants were soaked at the bottom and his white shirt was wrinkled at the joints.

‘That’s alright,’ you said and he looked up. Despite the umbrella, his hair was slightly damp and the tip of his nose was red. ‘We are closing soon,’ you told him. ‘If you want to browse, I suggest you come back tomorrow morning.’

His curious eyes darted from you to the aisle behind him. ‘Where is...?’

‘Are you looking about my dad?’ you said, trying to keep your tone professional. ‘He fractured his leg. I’ll be taking care of the shop in his absence.’

He finally managed to close his umbrella and left it by the window overlooking the street.

‘Right,’ he said, walking into the glow of the dimmed yellow lamp hanging from the ceiling above the counter. This close, you noticed that his cheeks were red too and wondered whether it was cold out that night.

‘I am sorry to hear that,’ he said, ‘but by any chance did he mention any Beatles record on hold?’

‘The Beatles…’ you mumbled to yourself and ducked behind the counter to inspect the cabinets. At the very top, wrapped neatly in a clear film was the record and stuck to it was a post-it that had the word paid written in block letters and a name beside it.

‘Jung…’ you whispered, rising back to your feet to find the light. ‘…Jaehyun.’

It took you a moment to place the name in your head, and when you did, you blurted out, ‘It’s you!’ You looked up at him. ‘You are Jung Jaehyun?!’

Your raised voice startled him but he replied as even as before, which angered you even more.

‘That’s correct,’ he said.

‘Do you have any idea what you put my father through?’ you yelled, your voice echoing through the empty shop. ‘You have been making these insane demands for those godforsaken rare records ever since you stepped foot into our shop!’

You could feel your face heating up, your heart pulsating inside your throat but you could not stop the words. You had held them in for too long.

‘Do you know how difficult it is for my father to find them?! It’s because of you that my father had an accident and fractured his leg. He was out in the rain to get your stupid record!’

‘I- I had no idea,’ Jaehyun said, his face devoid of all colour. He had shrunk under your harsh gaze.

‘Of course, you didn’t!’ you spat back, the thin record shaking between your trembling fingers. ‘All you rich kids care about is your own convenience!’

‘That’s a harsh judgement to make,’ he said, though not unkindly.

‘Harsh?’ You let out a mirthless laugh. You could not believe your own anger. The bulb over the counter flickered like a dull firework as the record player in the corner switched to the next song.

‘I’ll tell you what’s harsh. All his life, my father has worked tirelessly in this shop to raise me alone and I have done nothing but kept my nose buried in books so I could get into the best university in Seoul under a scholarship.’

You sighed, pressing your palm to your forehead to control the angry tears that were pricking the corner of your eyes.

‘This was my last summer before college, my last chance to taste freedom and it’s ruined because of you! I am stuck in this shop, working all day. The boxes are heavy, the shelves are high. I don’t know any of the customers and all they really do is ask about my dad and I haven’t even eaten all day but I can’t complain to anyone without looking like an ungrateful brat!’

There was more you wanted to say but you had embarrassed yourself enough.

‘Just take this and leave.’ You held out the record to him. His hand reached out immediately but stopped just centimetres from the edge.

‘Take it,’ you repeated. ‘It’s already here and paid for.’ You did not rush his hesitation— there was no other customer in the shop waiting in line anyway. At last, when he closed his fingers over the record, you let the rest of the anger flow out of you with it.

‘What?’ you asked. He was still standing at the counter, staring at you, wide-eyed. Maybe you had been too harsh but your anger didn’t allow any sympathy.

‘I can pay the hospital bill,’ he managed to mumble, clutching the record tightly in his hands.

‘There is no need,’ you replied. After the picture you had painted of yourself in front of a complete stranger, you could not let your pride take another hit.

‘Just… don’t come back here again.’ You regretted saying it the moment the words left your lips.

When you had first learned of Jaehyun through your father, you had imagined a stoic, old man in his 50s, dressed in an unnecessarily expensive suit with a cigar in his hand and a flashy gold chain around his neck. He definitely seemed the kind with his incessant demands for rare records. He liked nothing in the shop.

Pretentious bastard, you had called him.

But standing in front of you was a boy, who didn’t look much older than you. He was careful with the record while stowing it away in his bag, holding it by the edges. Despite your outburst, there was a twinkle in his eyes, one that you recognized all too well— your father had it too whenever he got his hands on a new record.

In the wake of your receding anger, you saw clearly how frightened you had made him but he did not protest again. Without another word, he left, stopping only for a moment at the door. He did not speak what he wanted to say and perhaps that was best because he came back— sooner than you had expected.

[madthetruemad]

Hiii :3c

Could I request Blade with a reader who is a runaway royalty (a princess) who is running from a tyrant father and joined the Stellaron Hunters not too long ago? He only finds out when they have a mission on the very same planet reader came from because they kept it a secret from them to start anew.

(Reader and Blade have an established relationship by then)

Hi hi!!!

Blade x Ex-Princess!Reader

You could feel the heat of Blade’s stare on you when you asked not to go to the Amidal planet when the mission was assigned. However, due to the script, you knew that your ask for leave would be denied. And it was.

After the meeting was adjourned and it was determined that both you and Blade will be going on this mission, you immediately found yourself cornered by the very man himself.

“You’re usually wanting to go on missions, even volunteering yourself most times.”

He stated it matter of factly with that signature look on his face and his arms crossed over his chest, and honestly, he wasn’t wrong. If it was any other planet, then you wouldn’t have nay problem, but this one… you grimaced, but shook your head.

“It’s…,” should you even tell him, “nothing. I just have a bad feeling is all.”

“The script doesn’t say that you’ll die there.”

“I know, it’s just a feeling is all.”

He watched you carefully, and you hated how it felt like his eyes were tearing you down as he tried to find the problem, it was sweet that he was caring in his own way, but it still sent shivers down your spine.

“Let’s just get ready to go, ok?”

You saw his expression shift for a moment before it reverted to his usual blank expression, you decided not to dwell on it too long as you both left to head towards your shared room.

“What was that all about,” Silver Wolf asked her hand resting on her hip as she watched them leave.

Kafka laughed softly, her hand raising to move a strand of hair behind her ear as she looked at Silver Wolf, “I wouldn’t worry about it, but I’m sure those two will be even closer than before once they come back.”

Silver Wolf crinkled her nose at that, “they’re already dating and make sharing a hotel room awkward, do they need to be closer than that?”

Kafka merely shook her head at Silver Wolf’s antics, but kept her gaze on the door that you both left through.

Meanwhile, five system hours later, and both you and Blade found yourselves on the Amidal planet. Just setting foot there sent your heart racing.

“Since this is one of the few remote planets, they won’t know who the Stellaron Hunters are, so we can walk around freely.”

You nodded as you both started walking forward, your feet scrunching against dry grass and leaves as you headed toward the closet city, lucky it wasn’t even that far. And just seeing the outline of it, you already knew that it was the capital.

I need to calm down, you thought, they won’t remember me… right?

Blade kept stealing glances at you all throughout your short journey, but he didn’t say anything. If he was hoping you would open up about what was bothering you, he wasn’t sure, but he did know that it was starting to irk him now that you weren’t acting like yourself. Instead, you started to exude fear.

“We’re here,” he said once you two got to the city gates.

You steadied your breathing, but the moment you lifted your head and stepped one foot through the gates palace guards were quick to filter out of the towers near the gates.

Blade was already unsheathing his sword as he stood close to you, his eyes narrowed and stance ready to strike if they got any closer.

“Princess!”

From the corner of your eye, you could see Blade’s form slacken a bit causing you to wince. I guess they remember me after all, you thought almost solemnly. The guards surrounded you both, but they didn’t draw their weapons.

“Princess! We’re happy for your return!”

“Please sheathe your weapons, your father would like to see you!”

You chanced a look at Blade as he put away his sword and looked at you, “princess..?”

“You dare speak to her in such a questioning tone, you-“

You got in front of Blade, “he didn’t know I was a princess, so you can spare him, or.. well, he can spare you,” you whispered that last part, “moving on, you say my father wants to see me? How did he even know I was here?”

“He said it was only a matter of time before you would step through those gates again! Now, come along, but not you , you can stay-“

“Blade comes with me,” you interjected.

The guards nodded and moved to escort you to the castle, your old home, and during the walk you could feel Blade’s gaze on you.

Sighing, you looked up at him, “sorry for not telling you sooner, I just… I just wanted to start a new life, far away from here.”

“We all want to start anew…”

“You’re not mad?”

“No.”

You smiled before getting serious again, “my father is… a bad person. I can’t promise you that things won’t end in bloodshed.”

“That’s alright. Defeating your enemies will not be a problem for me.”

You wanted to laugh, but you managed to stop him instead and kiss his cheek ever so gently, “thank you, Blade.”

As long as he was by your side, you were sure that dealing with your father will not be a problem at all.

[twoderanged]

Satoru gojo x special grade! Reader

A/n: It's my first time writing on here and well I hope anyone who reads it likes it! Aaannnddd it's an introduction chapter!! It will be a series ig

Indian Female reader!

Geto is alive in this au because I wanted to<3

The old man was furious, but ultimately he knew he couldn't stop you from going.

You were a special grade in india, which tbh was very boring since all 4 other special grade sorcerers you knew were all in japan so you decided to hand in your transfer papers to the principal, who was also your former teacher

So that's how you found yourself in front of the gates of Tokyo jujutsu high, a bag slung over your right shoulder and a cigarette in between your fingers, casually walking in as you owned tre place.

As you entered the principal's office, you saw two guys- gojo and geto sat on the couch, while yaga was sat at his desk. You knew them well back in your student days, but eventually grew apart with being busy with work.

As soon as he saw you, gojo's eyes lit up, immediately recognising you even after not seeing you for a few years, "y/nnnnnnnnnnn omggggg hiii!!!!!!!" He practically squealed.

You looked at him weird but gave him a smile and a wave as you gave yaga some documents finalising the transfer, then swiftly turning around and walking out, cigarette still in between your lips.

"damn... It still smells like smoke and vanilla... Mmmhhhmmmmm so sexy" gojo spoke to geto as they both walked out of yaga's office.

Geto looked at him weird and disgusted "chill man, your too down bad"

Gojo smiled, a blush appearing on his cheeks "I've always been, ever since I've known her"

"ugh... Weirdo" geto sighed

As they both walked into the training grounds to get back to training the first and second years respectively, they saw a small crowd in the middle of the field.

As they got closer they saw both the first and second years surrounding you, bombarding you with questions, as a roughed up nobara stood beside you

"ahhhhhh.... It was just out of instinct, i didn't notice her there!" you sheepishly said, patting nobara on the back

"woah what happened here...?" Geto asked

"ehh... Well I was ... Just standing here and um... Kugisaki came out of nowhere behind me so I kind of sent her flying across the field, but i swear it was my reflexes" you mumbled, as the tips of your ears turned red out of embarrassment.

"ha?" Geto said, baffled, as gojo beside him burst out laughing

"sooooooo yn you wanna go out this weekend?" Gojo said, slinging an arm around your shoulder.

"depends, is shoko coming?"

"huhhhh! I was just thinking it'd be just you and me yk, like a date?"

"a date?"

"yes"

"you fr?

"yes"

"like frfr"

"...yes..frfr"

"like actual--"

"omg, yes woman, stop doubting me! How could you doubt the strongest, and most handsome, Satoru gojo!?"

"well i decline" you said, talking a whiff of a cigarette.

"what....whatt?!!!!?!" He stopped in his tracks, having a hard time believing it.

"what? Having a hard time believing someone would say no to you?"

"ofcourse not sweetheart, But why, you wounded me "

"ehhh, too early don't ya think? Maybe later, when we're not so... Busy and bombarded with mission every living second"

"sigh...whatever you want sweets, whatever you want"

Mwah, idk how i did but pls like and repost babes 😽😽😽🎀🙏

[anodetoswag]

𝔎𝔞𝔩𝔢𝔦𝔡𝔬𝔰𝔠𝔬𝔭𝔦𝔠

𝐼𝓉𝑜𝓈𝒽𝒾 𝑅𝒾𝓃 & 𝐼𝓉𝑜𝓈𝒽𝒾 𝒮𝒶𝑒

❀﹒Notes: Childhood friends, coming of age, angst (shocker), humor, fluff maybe if you squint. open ending.

𓍯 W.C. 2.2 K

Synopsis: Growing up and growing apart seem to go hand in hand.

The Reds

“Are you sure I can’t come?”

Sae shakes his head. The back and forth had been going on for a while and the brothers were both refusing to budge. “It’s a horror movie, you won’t like that sort of thing.” 

That was just one reason to not take Rin along. Though Sae wasn’t eager to reveal the other, more crucial one. 

The older Itoshi steps back, giving himself a once over in the mirror. Rin continues his whining in the background but the sound of the doorbell draws both boys to pause their respective actions in favor of peeking out of the door of their room to see you climbing the stairs two at a time. 

“Are you done yet or what?”

Rin’s mood seems to sour further at your appearance for it often followed his brother being too preoccupied with you and seemingly forgetting about him completely.  

“Why’re you here?” It’s no secret that your mere existence doesn’t sit well with the younger Itoshi. Not like you try to get along with him either. If anything, you seem to take some obscene joy in ruffling his feathers. 

Sae shakes his head in disapproval. “Don’t talk to them like that.” 

Rin huffs, crossing his arms across his chest. You grin, ever the opportunist at pestering the boy. “That’s right, don’t take that tone with your elders.”

“You’re the biggest baby I know,” Rin fumes. 

“Rin,” his brother warns. This has the child throwing you a nasty look while muttering ‘they started it.’ but otherwise stays quiet. 

You pull Sae out of the house, talking about something Rin isn’t particularly interested in knowing. Your figures fade over the horizon and part of Rin wonders if his brother likes you a little more than he likes him. 

The Oranges

Rin doesn’t understand why Sae was so adamant on having you accompany them to the airport. He’s young but even he understands this is one of those family only occasions. Only those select few that Sae holds closest to his heart. Then again, maybe Sae does hold you close to his heart. 

Is it more than him though? Is the nameless connection you share with Sae deeper than his own fraternal bond? Soccer is one thing they both adore, Rin likes to think it’s their thing; a secret that cannot; or rather should not be tainted by any outsider. 

You play with them often. Not as good as Sae but as far as Rin is concerned, nobody is as good as Sae. You’re better at it than Rin though. Sae tells him that he just needs more practice. His mother tries to placate him by saying it’s because you’re older. That when he’s older, he’ll get better. Personally, he prefers Sae’s reasoning. 

Rin has heard Sae’s friends tease him about you. His brother only ignores them and you turn your head the other way if you ever notice them making faces at you. You’re both similar in that sense, Rin supposes that’s why you two get along. 

But soccer obviously trumps whatever silly schtick you and Sae have. Once he gets better at it, there’s no doubt Sae will prefer him over you. 

“I got you snacks for the trip,” you hold out the bag with thinly veiled self gratification. There’s a distinctly drawn Kazuhiko on the post-aid taped to it. 

Sae takes the bag from you with a word of gratitude and an amused smile. Rin wonders briefly if he is currently bearing witness to an intimate moment. Unlike the cheesy scenes on TV, there isn’t a kiss shared between the two of you; nothing that denotes affection outwardly but the way you look at each other is enough. Rin doesn’t quite grasp the labyrinthine details of this dynamic but he can make out there’s something.

Even as Sae walks towards the gates of the airport, you shed not a single tear but only wave until you lose sight of him. Rin waves harder, just to one up you in this childish feud you seem too occupied to even take notice of. 

The Yellows

Rin is sprawled on the grass, chest heaving with the need for more air. Despite the obvious fatigue, his will remains absolute. 

“Again.”

You look down from where you’re sitting beside him in the grass, knees propped up and arms supporting your weight from the back. 

“No way, it’s getting way too hot.”

With Sae gone, you’ve been trying to fill in the role of a good elder sibling figure. To Rin, you’re only worth as much as you can help him improve. He plays at school but one on one afternoons with you help him learn better. But it’s more than just that; having you around is so irksome that he misses Sae a little less. Not that you can fill the older Itoshi’s shoes. Sae is the kindest big brother in the world, the best in every way a person can be. While you are…you. No, it’s just that he gets so caught up in these nonsensical dissents that it makes Rin momentarily forget that his brother isn’t here. 

You push yourself off the ground, dusting the back of your shorts. He’s left to pick up the ball and trudge behind you. 

The afternoon is spent with you chatting his ear off about your texts with Sae over a glass of lemonade. His brother tells you more than he tells Rin and you make sure to let that fact be crystal clear despite never actually saying the words . It only solidifies the opinion that you’re truly the most heinous being to walk this earth. 

“Will you come tomorrow,” he interjects at some point, unable to withstand this contemporary form of torture. 

“Don’t know,” you shrug. “Honestly, I’ve taught you all I know.”

Inwardly, the admission has him preening. It’s the closest you have come to capitulating. 

You return the next day, as you always do despite never committing to it. Rin scores that morning and you have him celebrate with the ice cream you promised. 

The Greens

Your visits dwindle down eventually. Everyday turns into every other day, then weekly until finally they stop entirely. Initially Rin was certain you were just a bitter loser but then you stop coming to play with the neighborhood kids too.

The questions are answered only when he overhears a conversation between his mother and yours. How you were so caught up in your studies that it doesn’t leave any time for much else with having been accepted into a reputed high school. Then proceeds to add how you mentioned Sae to be immersed in his training in Madrid since the phone calls and texts have become less frequent that she recalls.

Somehow Rin finds this preposterous. But before he can think more of the troubles that come with growing up, contemplate the sorrows of the fleeting existence of some people in our lives, his mother’s laugh rings in the air. 

“It's all part of growing up, temporary. They’ll find their way back to each other when time calls for it.” 

For the better or worse, he lets himself believe in them. 

The Blues

“To me you’re nothing but a nuisance. Just a little brother who’s a pain in the neck. Get lost, I don’t need you in my life.”

Sae walks further, only then noticing you standing in the dark. He walks past you but stops a few feet away to look over his shoulder when you don’t follow after him. 

“Are you coming,” there’s an expectant look in his eyes. You’re suddenly made all too aware of the fact that you’re at crossroads. 

Sae always does what he wants. It’s how prodigies work; they march to the rhythm of their own drum even if the tune is closer to noise for everyone else. Rin does what Sae wants him to do. Now that you think about it, that doesn’t seem very fair. 

And then there’s you, unsure of where you stand in this world. Unsure which turn is the correct one. 

You don’t walk towards either of them but your body angles towards Rin and Sae knows you’ve made your decision even before you say the words.

 “In a bit. You go on.” 

And so he walks off. You stay behind to pick up the pieces. 

Rin doesn’t meet your eyes, only keeps them on the floor. Not that it makes a difference. You can tell he’s heartbroken. Maybe that's what being thirteen is about.

You want to comfort him, tell him it’s how siblings are. They squabble and scratch and throttle each other. If not today, not tomorrow then someday they’ll return to each other, return home. But somehow, you feel it’d do more harm than good by undermining his feelings at the moment so settle for something simpler.

“Let’s go home,” you coax. “It’s cold.” He wants to but his legs feel leaden. Then you take him by the arm to steer him out of the snow. He offers no resistance. 

You stay beside him the whole time, unwilling to leave him alone in his current state. For the first time in all these years he has known you, you stay silent, gaze fixed straight ahead on the open road. The grief subsides, not entirely but enough for him to take notice of the way your clothes fit differently and the way the area under your eyes seems darker than he ever recalls seeing. 

If this is growing up, Rin isn't sure if he wants to anymore.

The Indigoes

Maybe some things never change. Rin was always second, back when Sae seemed to care more about you than him. And now when the roles are reversed, he still remains the second option. Or at least in those moments, those out of body experiences, he feels that way.

You still hangout with Sae. Rin convinces himself that he doesn’t care, until he spots you both idling around. The occasional quirk of his lips and whatever little tenderness that Sae seems to still be capable of in the depths of his frigid heart, all of it is reserved for you. 

Naturally, you hangout with Rin too, having returned to being insufferable as before, if not more. A feat he didn’t even think was humanly possible. 

Rin should have been content with this, content with your time together but he’s not. He’s angry, so, so impossibly angry; at Sae, at himself, at the universe. Not you though, ironically. In fact, nowadays you’re the only creature that seems to bring him tranquility in the only way you know; by being so vexing that he forgets all worldly troubles. 

So he decides to be covetous. He’s sick of being second. As a child, it was simply aggravating. Now though, it feels nauseous. 

It’s only fair. Sae has forsaken you both but Rin was here all along, he’s still here and he will be here even after Sae leaves for Spain. 

The Violets 

Sae’s departure allows Rin to monopolize your time. Or at least what is left after you’re done hunched over your books. 

He’ll come over or ask you to visit instead, making up something about needing help with some schoolwork. It’s the easiest way to let your parents free you temporarily from the prison that is your room and it lets him keep some semblance of dignity. Besides, your tutoring isn’t half bad when you’re not actively trying to screw with him. 

“Picture this,” you start. “You’re in a dark stadium. So dark in fact that you can’t even see the ball… The only way you can find out is by kicking another ball at it so when it hits, the other ball moves and let’s just say it can light up momentarily on contact with the second ball. But then the first ball moves forward and out somewhere. While it was still, its velocity was obviously zero since it wasn’t covering any displacement. But now that it’s in motion, it has some velocity. Only problem is that we don’t know what it is. And that’s why the position of the ball and its velocity cannot be determined simultaneously.” 

Rin looks at the open textbook before him. “Did you just replace ‘electron’ with ‘ball’?” 

“Did you get it this time?”

You watch his face scrunch up in distaste. It’s a ridiculous sort of expression, like he’s constipated. “Yes,” a begrudging admission falls from his lips. 

“New game, take a shot everytime I say ‘ball’. But anyway, that’s Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle.” 

“The only thing I’m uncertain about is your mental stability.” 

“Says the one who likes to play with balls alongside twenty one other guys.”

“...Get out.” 

You smile, clearly pleased at yourself. Rin keeps a straight face, for one he genuinely doesn’t find this genre of humor particularly funny, especially not with how repetitive that joke is. Besides, it’ll only enable you. 

“Laughing isn’t taxed, y’know?”

“...” “And even if it was, you could pay with Sae’s money.” 

“Like he’s going to give me any.”

“That’s what bank fraud is for.”

A brief quirk graces Rin’s lips. He tries to wipe off the traces but it’s clearly too late. You make a thespian display of it for the rest of the week. 

Rin fears you’ll hold it over his head for the rest of your lives. Though if that assures that your existence will be bound to his, maybe it's worth the headaches that come with your company.

Constructive is always welcome and appreciated. This work has a lot of analogies, I'm not sure if I managed to capture all of it so feel free to ask in case of confusion.

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