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maggicktouched · 1 year

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This is officially the stupidest thing I've ever written. A while back @bokketo and I talked about this sort of thing in passing and this is where my brain rot took me. But it's honestly kind of adorable and I love it.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been on the roof. She’d burned through six cigarettes, but she was so out of it she’d wasted half of them. At first she’d been crying, it was the least destructive way to release the ever-rising pressure in her chest that city life inspired, but the tears had died a while ago. In their place was a numbness that was only occasionally broken by the desire to take a drag off her cigarette, only to find it had burned to cinders since she stopped paying attention.

The door to the roof opened behind her and shut loudly; whoever it was didn’t want to startle her. Half of the residents of Stark Tower walked around like cats—completely silent unless they wanted to be heard—and she did too half of the time, so it felt hypocritical to be angry about it, but she wasn’t used to people being able to sneak up to her. She was too overwhelmed here. That was her whole problem with New York.

Sound proofing and privacy spells could only go so far in soothing her spirit. The only true balm to her extended overstimulation was Natasha’s presence. And Natasha was gone. Again. It was the fourth time in a month, and Beck was going to lose her mind.

The person behind her was getting closer, and even though she tried to swallow it back, her tears threatened to reemerge. She just wanted some space to breathe. Beck could see Clint’s growing shadow approaching to her right, and she flicked the butt of her cigarette down onto the roof and crushed it under the toe of her shoe.

“There you are!” He sounded too happy for how utterly miserable she felt. Beck tried to force the smile she’d gotten so good at over her life, but this time it didn’t come. Clint sat next to her anyway and lightly bumped her shoulder with his. “I got something to show you.”

Beck shook her head. Looking at him properly felt impossible. Below them, a chorus of cars started to blare their horns, followed by a symphony of swear words from angry drivers. Beck winced.

She didn’t have a lot of serious moments with Clint, but he was silly, not stupid. He had to have noticed she was wearing thin. In the corner of her eye she saw him cautiously lift up his hand, and it came to rest on her shoulder.

“Beck?”

“Clint please. I just–I’m really not in a great mood right now.” She couldn’t help the tremble in her voice.

Clint squeezed her shoulder gently, and scooted closer to wrap his arm around her in a hug. It felt nice, but somehow it only made her miss Natasha more. He sat with her for a few minutes in comforting silence until his phone buzzed.

“I know you said you aren’t feeling great but—what if I told you I had a surprise for you?” He asked, carefully, as to not upset her.

Clint didn’t understand, and Beck didn’t have the heart to explain it to him. The right thing to do was humor him, wasn’t it? He was trying to help her. This time when she tried to put on her fake smile, it worked. “What sort of surprise?”

He looked down at his phone, twisted his lips, then shrugged. “Well I, uh, I can’t exactly tell you, can I? Then it wouldn’t be a surprise!”

Beck narrowed her eyes a bit at him, but took the hand he offered and let him pull her up onto her feet. They made it just to the door before he cut her off.

“Wait! It’s a secret surprise. We’re not supposed to tell anyone else about it. Let me cover your eyes.”

This time Beck’s laugh was dry, but genuine. “Fine. But I’m not getting into your white van to help you look for your lost puppy. You only fall for that one once.”

One of Clint’s hands hovered over her eyes, and the other rested on her shoulders, winding her up and down the halls of the tower as if he were trying to purposefully disorientate her. They passed Tony at one point who had stopped, then proclaimed he didn’t want to know, before leaving them alone again. Finally, they stopped and Clint pulled his hand away.

“Tada!” They were standing at the end of the hallway.

Beck glared at him. She wasn’t sure if this was funny or annoying. “...This is just the door to my apartment.”

They weren’t even at the door—just lingering near the fire exit because Beck refused to go on the elevator.

He nodded. “Yeah but Natasha told me if I came any closer she’d have to encase me in ice for a hundred years.”

“Natasha—Nat’s home?” Her heart skipped a beat, and the smile instantly became more genuine. She turned to the door, turned back to Clint, caught sight of herself in the elevator doors down the hall and swore. “You prick! My hair is a wreck. You could have told me!”

“She told me I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone she was back until eleven am tomorrow morning under threat of the whole ‘encased in ice’ thing. Just you. As a surprise.”

She couldn’t even be annoyed with him. With hurried fingers and a bit of magic, she attempted to tame her mane of unruly golden curls before pulling them up into a ponytail. Why the secrecy? Why hadn’t Nat called? She was meant to be away for another few days. Was she hurt? No. Nat wouldn’t hide that. Was this a…

Maybe that’s why Clint hadn’t brought her into the apartment.

She turned him around and pushed him gently toward the elevator doors. “Well, it’s been lovely. You have to go now.”

He said something after her as the elevator closed on him, but Beck was not at all listening. A weight had been taken off her chest. Natasha was back.

She unlocked the door with a bit of magic rather than a key, but the apartment beyond was totally dark. Beck’s brow furrowed. If this was Clint’s idea of a prank it was not funny. Maybe she was in the bedroom.

Beck stepped into the apartment and fumbled for the light. The switch clicked, but nothing happened. Beck let out a silent curse.

“Natasha?” She called.

“Shut the door.” She heard Nat say from deeper in the room. She sounded dead serious, but Beck’s heart skipped a beat all the same. She kicked the door shut behind her with her foot.

The second the light from the hall was gone, the apartment flooded with dim, multicolored light that was shining from a cheap disco lamp that had been hastily stuck to the ceiling. If she hadn’t been confused before, she certainly was now.

Nat stepped out from behind a chair, and Beck’s crumpled look of confusion changed in an instant as she burst into laughter.

“What. The fuck. Are you wearing?” She asked, unable to stifle her idiotic grin. She couldn’t even give Nat time to answer. “Oh my god. Oh my god, oh my god. Is what I think is happening happening right now?!”

Natasha didn’t look nearly as enthused as she did. “Yes.”

Beck squealed with glee.

“But if I have to dress up, so do you.” Natasha said it as if Beck didn’t have an outfit in the back of her closet waiting for this very moment. She was wearing one of the most ridiculous shirts Beck had ever seen, bedazzled with a thousand tiny rhinestones and horrible fringe pads on the shoulder. On her head was a black cowboy hat, and she had matching boots to go along with it that her jeans were tucked into.

“Give me five minutes!” Beck called, bolting toward the bedroom and finding the equally ridiculous outfit she’d bought herself when she’d tried to convince Nat to take a country line dancing class two months ago. Hers was an obnoxious, shimmering pink shirt with a pair of cut off jeans and boots that were completely and totally covered in rhinestones. “I can’t find my hat!”

She couldn’t hear her from inside the closet, but she swore she felt Natasha sigh. “It’s in here.”

Beck ran back into the room and came to a sliding stop only inches from Nat who, albeit reluctantly, laughed before plopping the hat onto her head.

“Ground rules.”

Beck stood to attention. “Yes!”

“You never, ever tell a soul about this.”

“Check!”

“Three pictures maximum.”

“Check check!”

“This is the only time I’m doing this.”

“Check check check!” She was bouncing up and down on her heels, and she could tell it was getting harder for Natasha not to smile. “Do I get to pick the music?”

“...You already have a playlist don’t you?”

“Yup!” She nodded. “Oh! And between good dancing songs can I hit on you like you’re the root’nest toot’nest cowgirl I’ve ever did see at this here hoedown?”

This time Natasha did laugh. “I hate this so much. Yes.”

Beck stood up on her tiptoes, kissed Natasha on the lips, and then ran off again to get her phone. Nat gave one last perfunctory sigh and connected the device to the tv. A second later Brooks & Dunn started singing about the Boot Scootin’ Boogie.

“Oh my god is this a tutorial?” Natasha was shaking her head, but she couldn’t suppress a smile as she watched Beck’s eyes intently lock on the screen.

“They all are! I couldn’t take the class by myself! This was the next best thing.”

“I regret this already.”

“Heel toe, Natasha!”

They both began a clunky, heel-toe dance side-by-side. To their credit neither of them completely fell or stepped on one another, but what else did she expect from Natasha? Still, half of the moves were improvised as they swirled and stomped around one another. Every now and again Beck would stop singing along to give an audible “yeehaw!” that made Natasha both cringe and laugh every time.

“Bartender asks me, say, ‘Son, what’ll it be?’” She pointed her finger at Natasha as she sang. “I wanna shot at that redhead yonder looking at me!”

Nat raised an eyebrow, then rolled her eyes for the thousandth time. “God. Stop!”

This time it was Beck who laughed, almost tripping over her own feet. Natasha snatched her to keep her upright and their lips met again.

“This is the worst song I’ve ever heard.” Nat grumbled, when she pulled away. Beck was so thrilled she felt like she was floating.

Two more dances went by before the music slowed and Beck held out her hand. “Pardon me, ma’am-”

“Absolutely not.”

It didn’t dissuade her or the terrible southern drawl she was putting on. “How’s about you let me russell you up somethin mighty tasty to drink?”

Natasha let her take her by the hand and lead her into the kitchen. She turned on the light and reached into the fridge for a pitcher of strawberry lemonade she’d made earlier that day. She poured them each a glass and tried to keep a straight face. It was extremely difficult. In the full light of the room they looked even more ridiculous than before.

“I hope this ain’t too forward, but you look hotter than a tin roof in August.” She wriggled her eyebrows. Natasha made a face as she took a drink. “No? Ok how about this one: how’s about we mosey on back to my home on the range and I’ll show you how the deer and the antelope play?”

“Cowboy you is kind of a dog.” Nat snorted.

“I know right? I’m not sure I like him.” She said with a laugh. Beck perched herself on the side of the counter and finally dropped the accent. “Ok but seriously-”

Beneath the music, Beck heard the click of the door. Natasha must have heard it too, because she gave her a wide-eyed look.

“Hide!” She whispered frantically, pushing Nat’s head down behind the counter. A heartbeat later, Bucky rounded the corner. Much like her, he looked completely confused at first, and then he erupted into fits of laughter.

“God. Tony said you were struggling but this is—what am I looking at here?”

Beck frantically tried to motion for Nat to get down on the ground, and Natasha swatted her hand away lightly.

“Bucky! My good pal Bucky! Uh… uhm.” How in the hell did she explain this one. “Why didn’t you knock?”

But she already knew the answer to that question. She was famous for leaving the door unlocked and expecting people to let themselves in. Half the time when Natasha wasn’t home, she didn’t even close the door at all.

“I did.” His brow furrowed and he frowned. “Are you ok?”

“I’m great! I’m fine! Things are great. Really, really great.” She rambled, trying to shoo him away. He gave her a suspicious look, then glanced around the room. His eyes landed on the two glasses on the counter.

“Do you have company?”

He was trying to skirt around her even as she was trying to shoo him.

“Yes! I mean—yes. This is uh, mine and Jari’s country line dancing class.” She managed. “He’s in the bathroom. He has a very tiny bladder. Like a squirrel.”

“Oh. The buff guy with the glasses. The one you keep trying to set Maria up with?” She could see the mischievous glint in his eye. Beck nodded, and Bucky shrugged. “Alright. Mind if I hang out for a bit then?”

“Bucky I swear if you don’t leave I will stab you!” She heard Natasha call from behind the bar.

“Natasha?” He was holding back laughter. “Well I guess you’d have to come out here to stab me, huh?”

He took a quick few steps to the right, but Beck stomped her foot on the floor and the enchanted floor runner under his feet only slid him further to the left.

“Get OUT Barnes!” Nat managed to find a ball of yarn that Boda must have knocked out of her basket and blindly chucked it over the counter. Bucky caught it easily, but he was too distracted by that to notice Beck had taken off her hat. She gave him a good whack with it, knowing it wouldn’t hurt, but he still looked shocked.

“Did you just hit me?” He laughed, even as Beck was gearing up again. This time she put the hat back on her head and held up her fists like a boxer in an old timey cartoon. Now Bucky was red in the face from laughter. “Beck Tandy–you’re gonna swing on me?”

He sounded like he didn’t think she’d do it, and honestly, she wouldn’t have really, not if she wasn’t positive he was going to dodge it.

Her horrific southern drawl was back, “I’m a cowboy, Bucky. And if there’s anything I learned from the two John Whinny movies my ukki watched on repeat when I was a kid, it’s that cowboys always protect their women folk.”

“No!” Natasha snapped from her hiding place. “That is absolutely where I draw the line!”

“Look you can teach cowboy me about modern feminism later, Natasha, right now I have to defend your honor!”

She threw a punch at the still laughing Bucky, who easily blocked her and pushed the hand aside. She tried three more times, and each one he dodged or blocked her, looking more amused than anything. Once he even gave her advice on her stance, and Beck tried to kick him in the shin.

“That is not very cowboy like.” Barnes snorted. They had backed up until he was almost to the door, and Beck opened it with a flick of her wrist.

“Neither is this.” She put her thumb and her middle finger in her mouth and gave a whistle. This time the floor bucked beneath him like a bronco, and Barnes fell on his ass into the hall before she promptly shut the door in his laughing face.

When she turned around, Natasha was sitting on the arm of the couch, scowling, “That’s it. He has to die.”

“He didn’t even see you!” She giggled, falling into Natasha’s arms.

“Still.” She huffed, winding a strand of Beck’s curls around her finger. “---Did you call me womenfolk?”

“Honestly, this outfit is doing things to me.” She defended, shrugging.

“You’re taking it off, and I’m burning it in the morning.”

Beck rolled her eyes and laid her head in the crook of Nat’s neck, taking in her scent. Without any sense of the manic silliness that had possessed her the entire evening she whispered. “I missed you so much… How did you get back this early?”

Natasha plucked the hat off her head and tossed it to the floor so she could play with her lover’s hair. “I knew you were upset when I left. And then Tony called.”

Beck frowned and pulled back, giving Nat a puzzled look. She sighed.

“So did Clint. I think they were a little worried about you. Said you had an—incident in the elevator?”

Beck winced. “I didn’t wanna carry my groceries up all those stairs, and the doors malfunctioned. I—thought I was trapped.”

Natasha frowned, then pressed her forehead to Beck’s, holding her close.

“So you came home and did all of this to cheer me up?”

Natasha smirked and gave her nose a peck. “Officially the worst mistake of my life. Now I have to kill the Winter Soldier because he thinks we have a cowboy kink. That’s gonna make it a rough weekend.”

Beck erupted into a fit of giggles at that.

“Well—you did say you wanted me to take this outfit off.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Natasha grinned and took her by the hand to lead her back into the room. “But we’re turning this awful music off.”

#;;my drabbles #this is so stupid but i kinda love it

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 2 years

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Okay okay okay I didn’t want to have another update so soon in the battle of my psyche versus Twitter but here’s what’s happening now. So I started looking at some comedians’ Twitter pages once in a while in early summer, as the Johnson government started to collapse and not enough topical shows were running and I turned to Twitter to get comedians’ responses. I didn’t have a Twitter account so I went to their pages one at a time, and ended up with a whole bunch that I was checking sort of regularly. Then I slowed down to only checking a couple of accounts occasionally, but then there was queen death and I wanted to see how all the different comedians navigated that minefield, and I was checking so frequently that it was easier to just make a Twitter account and follow all the comedians I want so I can go to one page and see them all at once.

I learned ridiculously quickly why that’s a bad thing. Amazingly quickly. I know I hear about how bad Twitter is, but did not realize until I got there that even an account where all I do is follow comedians would be so bad. That front page was full of content from people I did not follow, and side stories designed to upset me, and I found myself getting mad about like six different things that didn’t matter at all in the first hour. And I don’t need that! I listen to the real news, from real news sources, and get angry enough about things that do matter, I do not need Twitter throwing all this other shit at me! I massively underestimated the algorithm when I thought I could just follow specific people and that would be fine. I knew within hours that it was bad for my mental health but I already was drawn in and had trouble stopping.

For the next couple of weeks I went back and forth on trying to stop looking at it, and now mostly have. Really. I haven’t actually deleted my account, but I haven’t looked at the home page of it in a couple of weeks and truly have no desire to do so again, and I’ve deleted the app off my phone, the way some people do with Tinder after a bad date. But I’ve still gone back sometimes to check on a few individual pages, while carefully avoiding the algorithm-poisoned home page, like I did at the beginning and that isn’t that bad but it’s still a slippery slope and I just think Twitter is bad on principle and I’d like myself better if I were a person who doesn’t do that. So I’m telling myself to stop.

But the trouble is that while I was checking my home page sometimes, that was how I learned about a makeshift post-queen death show by Mark Watson that got filmed and put online. I watched it while in bed with COVID (this required me to go to Instagram, which was a whole new level of social media, but it was worth it) and fucking miserable, and the warm lovely delightful show contrasted against my terrible weekend made it one of the best things I’ve experienced in quite some time. And I don’t want to miss things like that. I also saw a livestream earlier this summer featuring Alex Horne and Jen Brister and Nish Kumar that I only knew about because I looked at Nish’s Twitter feed, and that was so much fun. So how do I catch things like that but miss everything else?

I recently decided the answer is Mailchimp, and I have joined some mailing lists, including Mark Watson’s so he can personally tell me the next time he decides to put some light into the world on an awful weekend and give me a little hope for the basic good in humanity. So far I've received one email from this, it told me mainly about stuff I can’t see because the Atlantic Ocean’s in the way, but also a couple of online things that I had to miss due to scheduling but was still happy to know about and would like to know next time. I’ve been thinking anyway lately that I should get more into livestreamed shows; it seems like the logical next step as my interests have started to turn toward somewhat more obscure sides of British comedy (I haven’t gotten to any really obscure stuff, and there’s a level of obscure that I can’t get to while being too far away to actually go to things, but I’ve gotten a bit more outside the immediate mainstream than what I was discovering a year ago), and as I’ve gotten more into stand-up and stand-up-like things generally. I now have fewer than 100 Bugle episodes left, and then I will again be at the end of my Britcom list and looking for a new direction (and I'd like to already have a plan for where to go this time, so I don't just have a small breakdown the way I did when I came to the end of the first run of The Bugle), and I think this is the general direction I want to take. That, and some other podcasts (I am specifically saving a bunch of Comedian's Comedian Podcast episodes that I've downloaded, as well as a few other things I'm interested in, so I'll have something to do after I finish The Bugle), and related things.

Unfortunately the end of a pandemic (it's not the fucking end, as evidenced by me having it earlier this month, but people act like it is) is a bad time for me to decide to get into recordings of stand-up comedy on the internet. During lockdown was the time it was all happening. But for whatever is still going on in that world, Twitter seems like a common way to find out about it, and if I don’t want to do that then I guess mailing lists are the next best option.

But I did still check just the one Twitter account this morning, because my brain remembers how much happiness it got from that show it found from Mark Watson’s Twitter and keeps wanting to go back there and find more of that, and also Mark Watson is the best person and I just want to know what he'd saying all the time. What I found is that today, he said he wants to start a new mailing list for his production company, which does a lot of online shows, and this list will send out information mostly about online things. No More Jockeys and that House thing he did over social media that I don’t really understand but if he starts it again I’ll probably figure out social media enough to follow it, and any livestreamed shows with him and other comedians that he records with his production company. He's said things about how he believes in online stand-up comedy as a good thing that should last beyond lockdowns because that makes comedy more accessible, and he's trying to do that with his company, and wants to start a mailing list to tell people about it. So, exactly what I would like. I want to subscribe to that exact newsletter and then not need anything else. Thank you, Mark Watson for, once again, delivering the exact thing I want.

Except not quite, because he can’t just make a new Mailchimp thing and give us a form to fill out like a normal person. The procedure is to DM him your email address and he’ll add it to a list. But you can’t DM him unless he follows you, so you have to comment on his Tweet so he’ll follow you and then you DM him your email address. I could technically do that, because I technically have a Twitter account, even though I’ve never posted from it. But I also can’t do that, because what the hell? I can’t just DM Mark Watson. Obviously.

Anyway, I wasn’t going to post about this because it’s all too silly and I’ve posted about my battle against Twitter more than enough times in the last couple of weeks, but I was reading through the replies to his Tweet to try to decide if I could bring myself to join them since I really want to be on that list, and I saw this, and the reason I actually wrote this post is because I have to share it:

So it turns out that:

1) When Mark Watson sees the word “hockey” he has the correct response, which is to understand that they mean regular hockey, rather than what I learned a few years ago is the non-North American response (or maybe just non-Canadian response, I’m not sure what they do in the States, I first learned this from my Kiwi friend), which is to use the word “hockey” on its own to mean “field hockey”, and if they want to refer to regular hockey they call it “ice hockey”. Similar to when I'm reminded that when Andy Zaltzman hears "wrestling" his first thought is of the athletes and not the actors, I love this.

2) Mark Watson’s first thought upon reading the word “hockey” is to quote Stompin’ Tom Connors.

Look, I’ve said it before, and last time I said it it was because he was doing a really cool makeshift outdoor comedy show on a weekend when his country and this world were erupting into chaos and needed this and I was also pretty out of it from having COVID at the time, and that was probably a better justification for saying it than the fact that he quotes Stompin’ Tom Connors, but I’ll still say it again: Mark Watson might be the best person in the world. Rounding up, give or take a little, more or less, he might be the best one.

...The issue I'm currently contemplating is that if I don't leave a comment and then DM my email address to the best person in the world while sober, I'll do it the next time I get drunk and then feel like an idiot the next day. I have joked before about getting drunk and trying to contact one of these comedians, but I have never done it (or come at all close to doing it, I very much was only joking about that), but given that I'm genuinely considering this and it would genuinely be a reasonable thing to do, I'd probably do it this time. But even if it is objectively reasonable, if I do it while drunk I'll feel like I did something incredibly stupid. This feels like a very Mark Watson-esque issue to have (I almost called it a "Watsonian" issue, but that already means something else, as established with the Off Menu confusion that was discussed in that show that made me hate the world slightly less during a terrible weekend).

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zaneaquaman · 2 years

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The Angel and Her Demon - Chapter One: Drawing a Mystery

Sky's Perspective

Black eyes that reflect the lights surrounding us. Purple, pink, and amber lights appear from out of nowhere with the light of flowers and feather-like softness. Hair that turns fiery in one angle and a deep fluid crimson in another. Arms as firm as a tree trunk, as strong as steel, yet are so gentle and careful, moving with precision, moving closer. Always closer. Lips that look so soft, I can almost feel them as she leans down impossibly close and―

I wake up in a cold sweat. My eyes dart around, desperately searching for her and hoping that maybe this time she'll be in my room, but it's just a dream. It's always a dream. I fall back against my pillow and groan. If only I could remember her name...

― ― ― ― ―

Classes are boring as ever.

I cover my notebook in sketches as I wait for the rest of the class to show up. A few stray people wander in, taking their seats silently and going about their own business. I stay focused on my drawing. Wispy hair going down to the shoulders, a sharp jaw with teeth that almost look like fangs, and eyes ― oh her eyes ― pitch black, so much so that I could see my own reflection in them. I dig into my brain as much as I can just to recreate her image. She's hauntingly perfect; a creature designed by the gods who has no place among us mortals but damn am I glad she's chosen to visit me in my dreams.

A ruckus comes from the doorway. I tear my eyes away from the drawing to focus on the sound. I bite my tongue as I see Diane and her band of rebels charge into the room. Personally, I've never understood their type, always making a mess and trying to stake their claim over everything. In their leather jackets, tight ripped jeans, silver piercings covering body parts that should be left alone, and black eyeshadow dripping down their face, they look more like rats found in the sewers than actual people. They crowd around a desk, putting their boots on it while others take a seat, babbling on about nothing.

Diane is worse than all of these rats, however. Her friend throws a sarcastic comment at her, and I'm surprised her tongue isn't forked like a snake when she sticks it out in retaliation. Her red claws, dipped in painted blood, run through her jet-black hair. She forces it to the side so it hides half of her face from view. I've seen her spray paint the doors of people's dorms whom she didn't like. She's gotten drunk quite a few times and gone on walks with her gang through the campus, shouting every profanity she can remember and saying each one of her sexual desires that comes to mind. Out of the corner of my eye, I swear I see her take a look at me. Her blue irises have a chilling effect, making me look away first. I hide a scowl. She chuckles.

The professor enters. "Alright class, everyone sit down."

The rat gang snicker.

"That includes you," the professor hisses. "If you want to pass this class, I suggest you sit."

Diane rolls her eyes. She and her friends all slump back into their seats. They don't decide to pick a fight, not today at least. I had heard a rumor of a few of them submitting some rather inappropriate, controversial papers to professors they disagreed with. Someone across the hall from my room claimed that Diane threatened a guy by holding a knife to his neck. It's a wonder how they are still on campus and permitted to continue taking classes.

I spend the class continuing in my drawings and occasionally taking notes. When the professor finally releases us, I swiftly pack my backpack and exit. I head to the cafeteria. They seem to be serving something that doesn't deserve to be called 'pork chops' and some sort of green mucus along with cookies that are so salty I wonder if adding pepper might actually help the taste. I take a seat at a table separated from everyone else and pull out my laptop and notebook. Multitasking has always been a skill I have, one that didn't get killed after the hell that was middle school. I take notes for Psychology 101 as I force the green sludge down my throat.

"Well, well, well," a familiar voice hisses, far too close for comfort. "Look who is sitting alone again."

I tighten my jaw, knowing who is speaking without needing to see them. I lift my eyes anyway to stare down the intruder. Diane leans over the table, her ruby lips pulled back in a twisted smile. Two of her friends stand behind her for backup ― as if Diane ever needs protecting. The woman is a viper on her own. I still can't tell if her venom or her bite is more menacing.

"We can sit with you if you're lonely," she purrs.

I hold my gaze with her. "I'm just fine on my own, thanks."

One of her friends ignores my words, moving to sit right beside me so quickly that I nearly jump out of my seat. I grip my notes and computer nervously. The other friend laughs. He circles around to stand behind me like a hawk. My heart quickens as I curl up, folding my computer over to hide my screen.

The one sitting beside me grabs at my notebook. "Hey, what's that drawing of?"

My cheeks blush as I hurriedly try to hide the musings of the red-haired woman in my dreams. I yank the notebook out of the invasive person's grasp and close it. The guy behind seems to have caught a glimpse of the drawing too because he starts laughing.

"Is that your crush?" he jeers. The two split off into bursts of snickers.

Diane lets out a low chuckle. My attention snaps to her. Her laugh isn't mocking or done out of genuine joy at my embarrassment. It's cold, mean even, like she gets no joy out of making fun of me. She just likes to watch me squirm.

Unlike the other two, Diane approaches slowly. Calmly. She takes her time, running her fingers along the table until eventually, they land on my computer. Her head tilts to the side as she lets out a hum.

"What are you working on?" she asks with a devious grin.

I tighten my hold on my notebook and computer, pulling them away from her slightly. "Notes. You know, the thing you do when you want to pass a class and eventually graduate from college."

Her entourage let out amused sounds.

"Mouthy," she chides. "Almost too mouthy for someone so quiet and kept to themselves."

"I save it all up for invaders like you."

The guy behind me steps closer, and I tense. Diane holds a hand up to stop him. She takes off her jacket, revealing a black patterned crop top she had on underneath. I frown and look up at her. What does she think she's doing? Diane moves to stand over me and I swallow. She's always been taller than me but now the top of my head only reaches her hips since I'm sitting. Her hand drifts to my computer, completely closing it. She lets her hand rest on top of it dominantly, her muscles showing clearly now without her jacket on ― and without even flexing. I look up at her, wishing for once I could appear bigger than my small frame and current position allows me to be, but she's so much larger in stature. So much stronger. So much more.

Her voice sounds like velvet but so much darker. "Is that so?"

She bends down so her hair falls down beside my face. Her nose is just inches from mine. I can feel her breath on my cheek. I have no doubt she's noticed that I've stopped breathing.

"Saving all of this for me then, are you?" she whispers with a devilish smile.

My cheeks flush despite all my attempts not to. I don't bother reeling back my snarl, "Go back to whatever sewer drain you crawled out of this morning and leave me alone."

"It's so fun talking with you though." Her head moves closer. I wish I could say I flinched, but instead, I stay deathly still as her lips brush against my ear. I can hear every breath she takes clearly. As she exhales, I shiver. She catches the movement. Her eyes glisten darkly and she waits a moment before speaking, simply enjoying watching me try to sit still. "The amusement and... pleasure it gives me is indescribable."

"It's not fun for me. It's distracting me from what actually matters―"

"I'm distracting you?" she cuts in, feigning shock.

I suppress a groan and pull myself back from her. "Find someone else to pester. I'm still just as busy as I was the last time you did this. I don't need company, especially not yours."

Diane bites her lip and looks me over slowly, taking in every inch of me, before stepping away with a disapproving glare. "Do you ever have fun?" she practically spits.

"Alone, yes."

"You mean like when you masturbate?" her friend sitting beside me asks bluntly.

I don't get a chance to respond before the three all burst into laughter. I anxiously gaze at other nearby tables to make sure no one else heard what was said.

"Maybe that's why Sky here spends all her time alone," the guy jokes, "You're just always giving yourself a good time."

"You think the innocent angel here, little-Miss-Perfect, does such things?" the annoying, cackling pile of black clothing next to me jeers. "I bet she hasn't gotten off yet. Not even by herself."

Diane purrs, "I think she could tell us what she's done. Couldn't you, Sky?"

I shoot her a glare.

"Come on, inquiring minds want to know," she says sweetly.

"Go to hell."

I shove my notebook and computer back into my backpack. As I move to put a strap around my shoulder, Diane grabs it and clicks her tongue. I shut my eyes. The humiliation of being around them is sickening, the implications of their words making matters even worse, but the idea of staying makes my skin crawl in a way that feels almost like rope cutting off my circulation before moving to strangle my throat. I can feel tears threaten to burst out, so I squeeze my eyes shut tighter.

"Where do you think you're going?" Diane snarls.

I look up at her, silently praying to god that the other two can't see my face. As she stares at me, her grip on my bag loosens, but her expression never loses that sharp, calculated edge. In fact, I think I see the edge of her lip curl up into a small, sadistic smile. I can only imagine how I look, but this has been building up over the past few months. It doesn't happen more than twice a week. Still, that's more than enough to make me feel sick of it. Diane loosens her grip just enough so I'm able to yank my backpack firmly out of her grasp and secure it around my shoulders. In her eyes, I can still see the same fire that's always been there. She isn't letting me go out of pity. No, this is only temporary; a slight relief so I don't break here and now. She'll be back.

I leave the cafeteria, blocking out the various insults and taunts being hurled by her two friends. I glance back at Diane one last time as I'm about to walk out the door.

Oh yes, she'll be back, I have no doubt of that.

More of the story is posted on Wattpad, my Patreon, AND Ko-Fi for free:

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cinnamonest · 3 years

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Yandere Profile - Monkey D. Luffy (One Piece)

Every day. Every day I have to wake up. Look at myself in the mirror. Accept that I am sexually attracted to Monkey D Luffy. And I have to live with myself knowing that.

In all seriousness I love him so much he was one of my earliest anime crushes, he's my stretchy son, my paperclip IQ boy, my little meow meow, my sweet wanted-worldwide criminal, love of my life light of my sky. Imagine he yells out during sex just like he does the "yelling out the name of my attack" shounen thing while you fuck like imagine getting a fuckin Gum-Gum Cervix Bruising

Also note I'm not 100% caught up with One Piece (I mean, who is lol) and it's been a while since I watched it (actually picked it up again bc writing this made me want to go back to it!) so this will reflect what I've gotten to

That being said, because OP is so long and it's one of those pieces of media that takes such a long time to consume, which means people can't just "oh I'll finish it first then go back and read this", I tried avoiding spoilers except one very mild one. The mild spoiler just alludes to a person and their lineage without naming them (and while I had more on that character in here originally, it was kinda impossible to discuss them without more or less revealing the big spoiler of what happens to them, so yeah, I ended up going more general).

Tws: fem reader, n/s/f//w, general yandere content, noncon (in an... innocent/unintentional sort of way?), abduction, mentions of violence, rubber dick physics in case that weirds anyone out lol

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Severity Scale

Intelligence/Perceptiveness: 3

Brutality: 6.5

Physical capability: 9.5

Mental/emotional instability: 6

Restrictiveness: 3

Sexual sadism: 3

Stubbornness: 8

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

Look at it this way... your life will certainly never be boring!

It would actually be quite the transition for someone who is not used to a very... active, exciting lifestyle, to use more positive terms. To be someone going from a more quiet, mundane, average life, to suddenly being strung along to a life where you'll find yourself being in the forefront of witnessing superhumans and monsters of unbelievable power, clashes and high-intensity battles between many factions of said beings, and inevitably at some point ending up shot at... talk about a shift in lifestyle.

One important note is that due to his low perceptiveness, he's very bad at recognizing your bad mood, hesitancy, unwillingness, resentment, etc unless you're very blatant. He's not the best at just reading your expressions or tone of voice or anything of the sort, you really have to spell it out for him a lot of the time. If you're the type of person who drops hints rather than being blunt, you're gonna have to change that, for your own sake.

That being said, he has those occasional moments of surprising depth, saying something to you, particularly an analysis of you, that actually strikes you as uncharacteristically thought-provoking and perceptive, something about yourself you hadn't even realized. Of course, he himself says such things without even realizing how meaningful it is... and it's usually quickly followed by a statement more on par with his normal simple-mindedness.

And that characteristic simple-mindedness must be understood to really get him in the first place, to understand how you end up in your situation. It is certainly a bit different from a lot of obsessive lovers -- the primary emotions are generally the same, but the expression of it, and how those emotions are understood and acted upon, can often be different.

This is primarily a lack of a desire to understand complexities -- to him, there are a lot of things he doesn't really understand and doesn't care to. He's not a person who's going to spend hours exploring their feelings and origins, thinking through possibilities, panicking over what-ifs about how you feel about him, do a lot of emotional self-reflection, etc. Things are or aren't, his world is often very black-and-white, and one doesn't need to fully understand all the complexities within something to know what they want to do and act upon their desires, much like how one can operate certain machines, change the dial on a clock, unlock a lock with a key, etc, without fully understanding the entirety of how those mechanisms work.

People aren't really different. He could not tell you why he likes you or when it began, does not fully understand what the emotion itself is beyond a positive affection. And he's not going to restrain himself in any capacity for some sort of fear of rejection or desire to preserve any self-image. No, he's very immediately straightforward. That doesn't mean he's saying he loves you and wants to marry you or something from day one, no, but that's because he just doesn't recognize the feeling as such yet.

Rather, what this leads to is a lack of shame. Some obsessed lovers will try to prevent you from knowing about their stalking tendencies or awful behavior, they give you a little bit of space, because they don't want you to think poorly of them or mock them, they don't want you to be angry.

Luffy doesn't really care. Nothing is going to prevent him from being very openly clingy and touchy and fixated on you. He doesn't realize how obvious it is, but even if he did, he wouldn't care. So what? Of course he's fixated... why would he be embarrassed by that? Hiding one's feelings or trying so hard for them to not be understood is just pointless.

On another matter, he's actually very determined to make you part of the group, rather than just solely with him. Most yanderes by nature are incredibly selfish in their interactions with a darling -- darling is for themselves only, and not to be interacted with by others. They will lock you away, keep your interactions with others either extremely limited to highly trusted figures, or keep you away from others at all, limiting your interactions to themselves and themselves alone.

Luffy is a bit more lenient than most to begin with, but especially in the fact that he's going to do quite the opposite of that. He wants you to get along well with his friends! In his mind, you're every bit as much of a part of them as any other member. It would make no sense to lock you away, and at first he's too naive to even think about one of his most trusted of individuals stealing you away. He trusts them wholeheartedly... even though that may not a good idea on his part.

With others, though, strangers and enemies, those people he doesn't want you interacting with, and feels quite the opposite from his crew - that is, he assumes they ARE trying to harm you in some way, or at least are intimidating you, and can get overprotective, that sort of glare he gets when people really upset him.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

It's called recruitment, thank you very much.

We see in canon that when our boy has decided you're becoming a crew member... there's a pretty good chance you're becoming a crew member, one way or another, whether you like it or not. It's similar to the situation with Sanji -- he decides that you have a role to fill on board, and will accept no one else in the entire world but specifically you, and any rejection goes in one ear, out the other. Like talking to a brick wall. Perhaps you have some sort of talent, perhaps his brain has just decided it's necessary.

It's not like you're actually all too special, though, you're just a person he ran into at random, maybe someone who gave him directions or worked at a bar or something he came into. You're rather confused when he asks, comes up to you and tells you he needs you. It's not like he gives you the full detailed rundown, but it's still bewildering and confusing telling you all of a sudden that he's going to obtain the One Piece and become the Pirate King, you have to come with him because he needs you to join, he'll explain on the way anyway just put your stuff down and come on they're leaving tomorrow morning so you have to be ready by tonight and--

Yeah, if anything, you might think he's crazy at first, if not recognize him as 'that guy on the wanted posters in town.' So you react accordingly and try to back away or shut him down, but, that doesn't work out well. He's used to people being hesitant, that makes sense, but he's also very much used to the people who hesitated or fought him eventually joining anyway and coming to love the life they lead, so you will too!

Either way, he'll be pretty direct when it comes to you... as in, physical force. As in wrapping a rubbery appendage around you and dragging you with him. You really should not have been expecting anything elaborate or planned out of him in terms of abduction methods.

The unfortunate side of all this once he drags you onboard is that he has people to back him up, or to at least gloss over how unusual the behavior is. That's because at this point, the rest of them are more or less used to his antics, and since he was also so insistent with them, they have no reason to suspect it being for any other reason than him just being the way that he is... especially seeing as he actually does manage to get you on when they're not there (not that he planned that, it just turned out that way), so when they get on later and set sail, he just told them that you're there, but you went to sleep... which is true. Sorry about that, he didn't realize how strong his grip was until you went all limp, but as soon as you did he loosened up and you started breathing again, just not waking up.

Once awake, though, at first your natural assumption is to assume they're in on it. You feel too nervous at first to say anything, really. Realistically, most darlings will be too intimidated, or not even realize that they would help you if they knew how nonconsensual your presence is. You assume they're pirates, so they must be bad people right? They won't care if they find out you were forced here, they might even hurt you if you tried to get their help, so you just stay cold and quiet... until you spend a few days and slowly realize these are generally kind people, even if a few are a bit gruff or... strange people.

But at first, when you're thinking they're in on it and thus not speaking to them, meanwhile they think you're just abnormally shy, they effectively, albeit unintentionally, gaslight you to some degree into thinking it's normal, because for them, it is. In their minds, they just sort of perceive you as a bit grouchy, it hasn't hit them yet that you are truly, genuinely resistant. They don't realize just yet that his fixation on you goes beyond what they each experienced, nor think that he might have physically dragged you there (and if you came on your own like they assume, you must have wanted to right?) so they see it as merely the same as every other recruitment in their past.

As soon as you realize they're not that bad, you can try to confide in them if you want... but this puts them in a little bit of a dilemma. Like, they want to help you, and a few are willing to confront the captain on what's happened. To which he's... very transparent. Oh, yeah, she didn't wanna come, so I had to pick her up. There's a lot of heavy sighs, having to tell him you can't just do that! ...It's kinda unnerving to see how little the revelation seems to shock them, though... as if they're used to such outlandish things.

But he's very uncompromising about it, gets frustrated if they try reasoning with him, stubbornly says no. You have to be here. He refuses to listen.

That's where the dilemma comes in. They've never taken such a strong moral issue on his decisions before. They... don't really know what to do. Most of them can't really risk leaving, would never want to, and that wouldn't accomplish anything anyway, so, as awful as it sounds, they more or less end up accepting it to some degree. Several will try their absolute best to make life better for you and make you enjoy your time with them, though, so that's a plus at the very least. But in the end they're not really in a position to help you out all that much, they all have much bigger problems to worry about, and at this point, they can't afford to turn back and take you home, and it's not as if Luffy would ever let that happen anyway. So, uh, sorry, but... just endure it for now.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?

Most of the time, it isn't restrictiveness that's keeping you trapped with him... it's the whole "surrounded by ocean as far as the eye can see" thing.

Consequently, most of the time he doesn't really need to be restrictive. It's not like you're dumb enough to think you can swim or even row that far. You more or less have freedom to roam the ship as you please, which is much better than many other poor darlings being tied up all the time.

But expect to be trailed. As previously noted, he's oblivious and shameless about his crush, doesn't feel the slightest amount of embarrassment or sheepishness blatantly following you from room to room, going wherever you go, like a lost puppy or something.

This is also the restraint used whenever you're off-ship and among civilization. He's clingy. Insufferably so. He cannot be away from you for more than a matter of minutes, and should he turn his head and find you gone, he'll immediately go looking for you. It's different from how he is with the others, where he's fine with splitting up to each accomplish different tasks each crew member needs to get done while they're docked. The same does not apply to you. He'll follow you wherever you go, or, more realistically, you will be following him everywhere he goes, attached by a grip on your wrist and being dragged along.

Should you run at an opportune moment while he's distracted, it really isn't difficult for him to get you back. He'll definitely notice your absence within a minute or two. Even if he can't immediately see you, it's incredibly easy for him to maneuver himself to high vantage points, from which it'll only take a very short time to spot you, considering you really couldn't have gone far in such a short time. It's also easy to utilize his body and slingshot himself to your general location (unfortunately at least once accidentally tackling you to the ground in the process... ouch).

He's not really mad at first, more worried and a bit frustrated. Hey... don't go running off like that. You'll get hurt or something. Good thing he found you. How come you didn't tell him where you were going...?

So yeah, he doesn't quite automatically assume you're trying to get away from him, and of course, you realize it's best if it stays that way, so you go along with his assumption and make up some excuse about how you got distracted or heard something. He'll believe you, at least this time. If it becomes a repetitive issue, or really just after the second time or so, he'll make sure to keep a really strong grip on your wrist the whole time, just to help you make sure you don't accidentally run off again!

If you snap and yell about how you're trying to get away from him, that you want to be free and go home and call him mean names, he gets more frustrated. He's like, already explained why you can't do that, and he already told you he wants you to be with him, so what gives? Did you forget or something? You really seem to have trouble understanding this... don't expect to get through to him.

But annoying as that may be, it's infinitely better than the average yandere's rage or hysteria and brutal punishments or the like for the same offense. So really, you might want to consider yourself lucky -- all you get is more and more carefully watched over.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

Poor thing. You know how easy it is.

It's not as if he doesn't have some surprisingly perceptive moments, but as a general rule, he is rather gullible, particularly in regards to you. Even if you're making up some extremely unlikely and unbelievable excuse, he'll probably buy it with a smile on his face.

That isn't to say, though, that it will work, particularly due to him being somewhat socially obtuse. It can backfire. Prior to abduction, you can make all your excuses about having somewhere you need to be or something you need to do, upon which, if they believed you, most people would understand as a social cue that you need to be left alone, but he just sees it as an opportunity to tag along! You're going to pick something up, go to this store? Okay, he'll head that way too, you can go together! This, of course, also makes it a bit awkward when you then have to go do the thing you weren't actually intending to do, just to maintain the lie.

Also, he can certainly learn. While he's never good at telling when you're lying in general, if he knows you've done so over and over, have been proven to lie to him time and time again, he will start becoming more guarded and assuming you're lying, become more suspicious of you. He hates lying, it makes him frustrated, he'll start confronting you on it with his irritation quite evident.

Thankfully, though, his emotions can be very easily manipulated, as well as being easily manipulated in general. When he is mad, he's very easy to distract with something he likes, and can turn from frustrated to excited in a mere moment if you should present him with something he wants or likes. It's something you'll ultimately end up rather grateful for. Likewise, he can be manipulated into doing whatever you want on the promise of getting something he wants in return (food, sex, etc).

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

If you have a high tolerance for a suffocating presence, Luffy is actually one of the better yanderes you could be stuck with. This is namely because you won't be undergoing the typical "chained to the bed, kept in a cage, all your loved ones killed" sort of thing, no. He wants you to be a part of his life, which means sharing each and every adventure. He trusts himself and his crewmates to be able to ensure your safety (except for rare cases, in which case he will ensure you are kept away from conflict).

This is... actually kind of the opposite of most yanderes, in the way it can work out for a darling who wants absolutely none of it. No, you can't stay in bed all day, you can't stay locked away in the room! Why would you do that? It's depressing... it's sunny outside and there's a lot of things to be accomplished and done, you have to come with him and stay by his side, whenever you're docked somewhere, or at least out on deck with him if you are all at sea.

So yes, no staying inside, if he's going into town so are you. He can get pouty and frustrated, if you try to stay inside and have a mopey, bad mood about it. Why are you laying around all sad? Just come outside. It's easy. If you say you don't feel up to it... oh, that's alright. He'll carry you on his back. No that's not an offer, that's a statement. You're getting slung out of bed and (thankfully while attached to him) slingshot into the open sky and all the way to shore before you can even blink. He just sort of believes you'll be fine and change your mind once you get out.

Many darlings might kill to be in a position where they can go outside, you know... but honestly, even they would quickly end up with the same sentiment as yourself on the matter. Honestly, sometimes it feels more like babysitting a particularly hyperactive child, being dragged from place to place by him and trying (and failing) to stop him from rushing headfirst into interactions with people you come across, regardless of how shady or dangerous you think they look.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

The thought of constructing some list of guidelines for you is simply something that never crosses his mind. He's generally a pretty lax and easygoing person in terms of the personalities of others and doesn't want to make any attempt to control your behaviors... and if there's something he really wants to accomplish, he'll just sort of... force his way into it. He wants you to go with him somewhere? He can just grab you by the wrist and take off in the direction you're headed, if not pick you up (or even rocket you together in the right direction). He wants to talk to you? He can just barge his way into whatever conversation you may be having, or pick you up and pull you close and talk to you.

Should you be difficult, doing something like silent treatment or just being rude, at first he doesn't really... get it. Honestly he can pester you into doing what he wants without even intentionally trying. Silent treatment is met with so many hey, hey's, and what's wrong? and can you hear me? that eventually you snap and talk back anyway. If you're mean, he sort of recoils, wide-eyed, but not discouraged. Huh. Okay. You seem really mad or something. He'll take care of whatever the problem is. Just say the word. Or maybe you don't wanna tell? Wonder why that might be...

If you get the courage to tell him you don't like being here, you want to go home, you're mad he took you away, etc, he does get it, but he doesn't quite grasp the severity of it, how intense your emotion is. Oh, sorry. That's about the most remorse you'll get. His attitude is basically 'yeah, sorry about kidnapping you, but too late to do anything now so anyway--' in the sense that the gravity of the situation goes over his head. He'll just kinda go right back to talking, asking you if there's anything else you want. Why are you so sad all the time? Come outside and get some fresh and air and stuff and you'll be fine. But you'll never know if you stay in here. Here, he'll help you by lifting you into the air and carrying you out...

If you say you want him to let you go, again, it's a half-hearted, oh, sorry, can't do that... you've definitely already been associated with him by this point (because of his complete lack of hesitation to have you seen by enemies), and so you probably have a bounty already. Can't let you go and let you get captured. Don't worry, it's fun here anyway.

There is no given command not to run away, because he doesn't think you would. If you ever do try to run, bolt when his back is turned for a moment or the like, he does make that the sole rule -- don't do that again. It's one of his more frustrated moments, so he has no problem issuing a direct order. But he'll be keeping a closer eye on you, so you won't really get the opportunity anyway.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

One of the first issues he has is recognizing the feeling he's experiencing. He doesn't recognize what he feels as "jealousy," it's not something particularly familiar to him in this context. All he knows is that when you talk to certain others, or even other crewmates if you're talking to them too much (or if you respond positively to them but negatively to him), he feels... a sort of knot in his stomach. So he thinks he's sensing danger perhaps, or maybe just sick. Thus, he can actually avoid addressing the feeling for a short time, feels like either something will happen or the feeling will go away on its own.

It persists, though. It doesn't go away. And it really flares up at certain moments, too, so he notices, takes note of in his mind. It flares up at certain moments where you laugh and smile. It's odd, because he normally likes it when you do those things.

Except this time it's not on your own, or over something that just happened. You're laughing and smiling because of someone else. Someone who said something to you. He finds himself desperately wanting to know what it was that was said, that gives you such a reaction. He wants to know why you would react in such a way, and why it makes him feel the way it does.

Honestly it's probably someone else that ends up recognizing it in the end and has to tell him, because it becomes very, very obvious. Again, he's really, truly shameless about most things, so he simply acts on his impulses rather than considering how his actions may be perceived or how obvious it will make his thoughts and feelings. The pit in his stomach tells him to pick you up, drag you away, go off to where you can be alone. That's what soothes the burning feeling, what makes him feel at ease.

And, of course, considering how direct that solution is, and the fact that he emotes very strongly and every feeling he has is immediately readable on his face and posture, it becomes very obvious to all the others within no time. That includes you, of course, if it wasn't already very clear to you. He's the only person who doesn't know how he's feeling.

But they don't quite realize the severity. They think it's just kinda him being the way that he is, but that it's ultimately harmless. That is, until it escalates, which it inevitably will -- he becomes uncharacteristically short-tempered/easily upset, and noticeably so, whenever he sees you with the subject of his frustration, and will make attempts to keep you away from them altogether. Generally, if it is another crew member, they do have respect for him and will ultimately steer clear of you in an attempt to deescalate. Which is not exactly great for you, but it prevents things from getting worse.

After the matter, though, he does get generally more restrictive than he was before. The naivete of his sense of trust is somewhat shattered, he becomes a bit paranoid. This means you might actually finally get the "locked in a room" treatment, except generally that will only be when he's there with you. Mostly, it just means he manages to become even clingier than he already was; before, you were actually at least able to get a few spare minutes when he went to go check on something or the like, but that's not the case anymore.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

His quickness to anger depends on what's upsetting him; he has a high tolerance for some things, a low tolerance for others, and sometimes these make no sense, or at least don't line up with how most people would feel.

He can be a bit immature at times, so when it comes to you he can get frustrated easily. He gets... pouty. He makes a face, furrows his eyebrows, his voice gets grumpy. He makes no attempts to hide when he's upset, how some other yanderes would try to appear calm because they might not want to make their feelings for you too obvious, but he's very quick to ask you why you're spending so much time with someone else, why you ran off again, why you're being such a jerk today. Just staying put and being nice is easy... or it should be... you're kinda being annoying, you know.

Because of his naivete to you, always thinking the best of your intentions, believing your excuses, never thinking you're doing something bad intentionally etc, he's unlikely to ever get truly furious at you, only frustrated, which can easily be fixed by annoying and forcing his way into what he wants.

True anger, all the chaos and immense destruction he can cause with his fury, will come out towards enemies. Should he ever be tricked or mess up, something that allows you to get hurt by someone else... if he's already protective of the others, it's even more so for you.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Eh? Who cares? That sort of thing is... pointless. He's not going to waste time thinking about something like relative value of a person. Bleh.

That's more or less all you'll get out of him. Such a notion seems pointless, it's just something that never crosses his mind, and if asked he's not going to bother actually considering it, he just merely states his thoughts on the matter, that such a topic is dumb (and yes, that's the exact word he uses). He has better things to worry about.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

Well, let's see. The man has dedicated literal years of his life and his entire foreseeable future and existence, allowing himself to become one of the most wanted people in the world, all for the sake of finding something that many people initially weren't even entirely confident still existed out there. So, it's safe to say he's a rather determined person.

But really, part of it is not really grasping your rejection in the first place. When you respond negatively to him, he doesn't think about the possibility that it might be him that's the issue, that you would otherwise respond positively if it were someone else or if he just approached differently.

And that just... does not change. It's less not understanding, and more a very unique sort of delusional tendency -- he just always believes it's something else making you upset, and that you're just being mean, getting all angry because that's how you are. He can get frustrated, can get pouty, but he'll never really listen. It's infuriating for you, it literally feels like talking to a brick wall, like your words go in one ear and out the other and he acts like he didn't even hear you. He just. Doesn't. Listen. Sometimes it makes you even feel like you're going crazy, the feeling of trying to communicate with someone who refuses to be communicated with.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Well, there's certainly the obvious... you have never encountered a rubber person before.

For a poor darling who once lived a very normal life, you may have heard of devil fruits, maybe encountered a few people with a power from one if you were lucky, but the rubber thing really takes some getting used to. At first, it's... kinda horrifying, to be honest. It certainly looks weird to see in action (especially if you're witnessing gear fourth, which is, uh, something) and suddenly, what once seemed like just a rather airheaded annoyance now seems a lot more intimidating when you see him once crush an entire ship with an elongated kick. You feel nervous around him more than you did at first.

It feels creepy when his arms sort of wrap around you, it honestly triggers a survival instinct, feeling like you're being constricted by a predator or something, which makes you panic, and trash around. And the first time he uses his rocket technique to launch the two of you from the ship all the way over a good distance, only given a quick "hang on" warning before being slung through the air, you're pretty sure you blacked out. He thought it was impressive, though, surely you'll think it's cool. And then there was the time you finally thought you were getting away for once, made the mistake of standing at a spot where he had a clear line of sight from his perch on a rooftop to you, and you felt a hand grab your shoulder... you didn't even process it before you were snapped back off your feet and through the air at lightning speed.

You have to just get used to it with time, honestly, it does take some getting used to. It's easier for others who just witness it, but since you are so often on the receiving end of its capabilities, it's more difficult for you.

And there's. Another thing. Some yanderes are known for certain... tendencies, or traits. Some are exceptionally smart. Exceptionally strong, maybe. Exceptionally violent. Cunning, well-prepared, restrictive, calm, distant, paranoid, delusional, all things that a certain yandere may be in excess that distinguishes them from most.

Well, Luffy is exceptionally annoying.

Sometimes he can almost feel kinda like babysitting a kid. He asks so many questions. Butts his way into whatever you're doing, be it working on making food (you do feel like you have to do something on this ship to help out, so you help Sanji sometimes), reading a book, working on something with your hands... he tries talking to you first. When you give a simple, one-word answer in an annoyed voice, he's still curious, sits down beside you, and a moment later, you find a nearly-disembodied head poking out from under your arm to get a better look, only connected by the now-stringy neck. Dear God. You're used to him by now, but that's a new one, makes you scream and drop your task.

He has difficulty getting some things, particularly if it's social. You now have to be the one to tell him no, you can't do that, that's a dumb idea to all his very straightforward solutions to complex problems that often would end disastrously if carried out, for one thing. And, of course, all the clinginess and his overwhelming presence get annoying fast too.

And if you seem upset... what's wrong? You tell him nothing, he says no, clearly something is. What's wrong? Hey, hey, answer him, why are you upset? Are you mad? Are you mad at him? Are you mad at something else? Did someone say something mean? Are you hurt? Hey, why aren't you answering? Why can't you talk about it? Huh? Oh, you look even more mad now. Why are you more mad now?

...Yeah, it's... something else. Poor darling.

Finally, one of the things that may bother you from the get-go is that, at least at first, by your perception, you think he has absolutely no concern for your safety. See, typically, yanderes who either have a lot of enemies, are wanted criminals, or are famous figures who realize you could be used as leverage against them, make sure their darling is kept well-hidden away from anyone who might bring about harm to them.

But not him. No, the world government, among plenty of others, is gonna get a really good look at you at some point, and much to your horror, by mere association, you'll find posters of your face alongside all the others pretty soon.

Not that he takes it negatively, quite the opposite. Ahaha, you got one too! Cool! Not a very high bounty, but it's a start. It'll only go up with time, so you have that to look forward to! Look, he's even in the background of the picture! Neat!

It certainly takes its toll on you and your health, you're almost certain to develop high blood pressure or worse out of sheer nervousness. But the constant sense of dread and mortal fear does actually level out with time, the longer you go on unharmed, you start to feel a bit more confident that you'll be fine and everything will work out in the end.

That is, except for all the near-death moments you do run into. That's where your perception versus his comes into play a bit. To you, you see the threats and the danger and run or hide, thinking it's all by sheer luck and timing you manage to be okay, maybe with intervention from him every now and then. But in your mind, you think he must just not care or something, after all you've come very close to taking a bullet to the head or a sword through the stomach more than once, even though you don't really do any fighting (it's all from running into the wrong people at the wrong time and what was supposed to be a peaceful gathering of supplies in a civilian area turns into conflict once he or someone else is recognized, and you're caught in the middle of it... something unfortunately common in this lifestyle as well).

What you don't see is that, for someone who normally thinks and acts in an entirely straightforward way, he now factors you into everything, and is keeping a constant eye on you to calculate your position relative to him and whatever enemies there are, and everything in the near surroundings, into each movement. It's surprisingly highly strategic for him, and yet he manages to ingrain into his thought process to a point it becomes subconscious.

Not that he doesn't try to get you out of harm's way altogether -- while he doesn't lock you away, he does try to get you to safely hide somewhere or in a safe location rather than having you out there in the heat of it all. It's just that since he's constantly by your side, he rarely can actually do so, and when he gets ambushed or attacked, you're usually right there too. But he will ensure your safety, even if it means making sacrifices in other areas, such as not obtaining something he set out to get, or losing some valuable item because it was either it or you.

But while you think you're just narrowly avoiding bullets, running with your eyes nearly squeezed shut, you don't see him stick his arm out to save several from going right through you. You don't see the guy that was about to attack you from behind that got taken out by a single kick. You don't see when he blocks this and that, saves you from this or that, everything is usually too chaotic at the moment. Once you do catch it a few times, though, you start to maybe feel a little less resentment.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

There are two questions you wonder about from very early on, that you will soon find both answers are yes.

Yes, he does know what sex is.

And yes... it stretches. Just like every other part of him.

Now as for the first part -- he doesn't know a lot. His knowledge is around the bare minimum. This will inevitably become an issue, but thankfully he's very willing to be taught -- he's not one of those people that gets offended when you try to tell them how to do what feels good to you.

Unfortunately, he has difficulty being very gentle as well. Not out of harshness or in a cruel way, but in an overly-eager, high-energy sort of way. He generally doesn't have to handle most things gently, and is used to using a pretty good deal of physical force with various tasks in his everyday life. This will, of course, apply to you as well, he tends to pick you up harshly, kinda throws you all around when needed.

But in general, he's a very touchy, cuddly person by nature. You have some highly touch-starved yanderes that have to get used to just being near you and gradually have to start off with soft touches and get more comfortable with time, some that are ready to hug or cuddle you but still tremble over it, some that are touchy but only in brief moments of contact... but Luffy is none of those. From the day (minute, really) he meets you he is entirely comfortable with touch, picks you up at random to carry you back in the first place even. He discovers very fast that he just... gets something out of touch. It feels nice, warm, comforting... so he clings to you. Physically.

Like. A lot. All the time. Honestly you reach a point where it doesn't even strike you nor the others as weird anymore to see you sitting down or standing or even walking with his arms looped around you. If you're sitting on the bowsprit as he tends to enjoy doing, he likes to more or less have you in a hold where your back is against his chest (kinda terrifying if you have any fear of the vast open water you could so easily fall into), and even when standing, he likes to keep a grip on you. You can even stand up and go get something off the counter or the like when you're sitting down in a room -- he won't stand up with you, but he keeps the arm wrapped around your waist and just lets it stretch across the room while you move around. You've gotten to where you barely even register it anymore. Like every other thing mentioned so far, he has no concept of shame or embarrassment about it, so he sees no reason not to do what feels nice.

Also, while it's not really an intentional form of touchiness, when he sleeps, he gets particularly cuddly, but like, in a way where he's coiling his limbs around you like some kind of constrictor snake. You have to kinda beat on his arms (or, if you're completely constricted, thrash around a bit) to get him to wake up and let you breathe.

In terms of sexuality, it matches the rest of his personhood -- high-energy, very active, overeager, rushes into things without really knowing what he's getting himself into... you get the idea. But, as said above, he does in fact actually know how it all works, which may come as a surprise to some who know him... but it is, once again, very minimal knowledge, and needs to be guided. He'll listen to you, to the best of his ability, but may occasionally get too lost in the feeling to really hear you.

It is, also, one of the many things he has no shame in. He has some, but very little, nakedness shame; if you walk in on him changing clothes or anything he's not going to really react to what you're seeing, more just tilts his head and asks if you need something. The issue with this is he has a similar presumption of your comfort level, and doesn't really see anything wrong with watching you perform activities such as changing clothes and showering and other things you would much prefer to do while not being stared at.

Likewise, he may more or less straight-up come up to you while you're with the others and more or less either verbally ask you to go back to the room with him and/or drag you along to do so. Everyone knows. And he probably knows they know, but doesn't see why he should care they do.

This also applies to groping and staring. Do not be surprised if the boy just kinda spaces out, reaches out and grabs a tiddy... and don't be surprised if he does so right in front of people once or twice, although he will at least usually make some effort to wait until you're alone. He does not make any effort to hide the fact that he's not staring at your eyes, though. Hell, his entire head tilts downward.

Also... if you clench down on him, in the pulling-out motion of the thrusting, it basically clamps down on his dick and, well, when he pulls back it stretches his dick out a bit... which, in turn, means like an extra inch or so slamming into you on the push-in movement. Then it snaps back to normal size right as the inward thrust impales you, and repeat. Ow.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

He doesn't really recognize it as such.

Luffy is a very... iron-willed person, but also a spontaneous and eager person. Someone who can be inconsiderate, but not in a malicious way. It's not like his intentions are to cause harm, he just... doesn't think before he acts, a lot of the time, rushes into things making his decisions based on what he feels and more or less assuming it's alright or at least will turn out fine.

So it's not like he's knowingly forceful -- but rather, you make him feel good, he has all these weird urges to do stuff to you, so he's not really thinking about your reaction or feelings when he grabs your shoulders and pushes you flat against your bed... but he's not operating under the knowledge that it's a violation either. He's just excited! He's not really even consciously aware of what he's doing, he's sort of spaced out.

If you fight back, he actually does snap out of it, and actually will respect you and stop, although he's confused as to why. It's not like it'll hurt you, right?

Well, he's not sure. So, with perhaps actually the slightest hint of embarrassment for once, he goes directly to someone he thinks can tell him a lot about that sort of thing... Sanji. He knows a lot about girls, right? So he should be able to tell him... if not available, maybe he can go to Nami and Robin, or even someone else available depending on the time you join, like Vivi. They... sort of snicker and make fun of him a little bit, which just makes him sort of pouty... but are willing to give him some, ah, helpful advice. He's actually just perceptive enough to not phrase it in a way that makes it obvious he's referring to you, although it's more out of him finally feeling some normal sense of embarrassment, and not because he realizes they might put two and two together and realize what he's intended. So he phrases it as a general question of curiosity.

Which is great! Now he knows what to do! So he tells you, either coming into the room where you are and bolting over to bed at the speed of light, or picking you up by the waist and carrying you. Okay, so, now he gets it. Don't worry. He knows what to do. Hey, you're still squirming really hard, you're making it kinda hard to move around. Well, they did tell him something about you quivering or spasming or something... they said that's normal. He'll just have to hold you really still.

Huh? You're still saying stop so much... no, really, he's got it now. Trust him. Hang on, here, Nami murmured something about how it's best on her stomach... he'll flip you over, makes it better for you. You're just making noises now that your face is pressed into the pillow... well, it almost sounds like muffled words, but it's definitely not words, he can't make any of it out, so it's just moans. That's good. He thought those didn't start until after you put it in... guess that was wrong.

You may still be worried or something, but one of the people he consulted said it's normal for you to be a bit nervous and hesitant, and that he should just say nice things and comfort you, so he tries his best. But, since it feels so nice for him, and it's something you do together, he assumes that the physical feeling for him is the same for you, and it feels amazing to him.

Is part of it, deep down, wanting to believe you want it? Perhaps. Is it a subconscious way of justifying acting on the raging hormonal impulses and instincts clouding his judgement that he's not even consciously aware of? Definitely. But either way... it'll work out in the end, yeah? It's really fun, so you can do it against tomorrow and the next day, and some more after that too...

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

Distension/Size kink

Honestly he treats it like a magic trick or something. You know how guys can kinda flex and make their dick twitch?? Well, he's figured out how to do that and make it sort of... expand. Look! Cool, right?

You're still taking sharp breaths and jolting as he says it, considering he just basically rammed the tip of his dick directly against the cervix... ugh. You have to try and explain to the best of your ability that he may be able to stretch, but you have a limited capacity, so he needs to keep that a bit under control... and he tries.

But look, you can stretch! At least a little, skin has elasticity after all. Which is why, when he's got you on your knees but sitting almost upright, leaning forward, arm wrapped around your waist and pounding into you from behind, he can see it on each thrust, distending your stomach a bit when he shoves it in. It's... really nice to look at, for some reason.

Also... you know how with gear third, he can kinda inflate things... maybe that can apply to spongy tissue if he tries and maybe... well, it would be very... filling? Anyway, just don't give him the idea.

Exhibitionism/Candaulism

It's another thing that he just thinks is cute, when you're all embarrassed, your face gets hot and you squirm around. Not to mention there's certainly a pride factor there, too, makes him feel a nice swelling feeling in his chest. And, in his mind, it fits the image of what a king of pirates would act like -- he would show off so everyone else can know how great he is and be jealous of him!

He takes direct methods as always. Convinces Nami or Robin to lend you some clothes and adjust them if needed and then throws whatever you were wearing when he abducted you away right off the side of the ship after promising to "take care of it," which you presumed meant wash them, unfortunately. So, you're probably, ah, familiar with how those two tend to dress a lot of the time... now you get to too! Note that he has no concept of body insecurity or anything like that. In his mind, since he likes it and likes looking at it, there's no issue, and you won't have any problem showing off since it looks nice.

But he is really proud of you, and can get into a little bit of that typical show-off attitude some guys have where he wants to have you by his side and be able to sort of let people see, unfortunately particularly enemies. Not that he won't make sure you're safe, but it would be really nice for some of those guys to at least get to see him with an arm around your waist all smiling to rub it in, you know?

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

A successor of sorts would be kinda cool. In a way, yes, because when he thinks about it, that makes sense doesn't it? The legendary figure that he wants to be, would logically have a successor to carry on that legacy! It just seems like the natural thing to do. Besides, Gol D. Roger had a kid, so it only makes sense to follow in that example to some degree.

But to say he likes the thought is a tricky statement, because he doesn't fully comprehend all the effort and work such a thing entails. In particular, he may struggle to realize how fragile the average child is, which is going to be a big concern. He's that father that gives everyone around him a heart attack with the way he handles a kid, but manages to always have everything work out perfectly in the end.

But in terms of his opinions, he doesn't actually seem to feel too strongly one way or another, perhaps surprisingly. When you pose the question, you get the sense that he isn't really thinking much about it, just sort of smiles at the thought of a cool protege and accepts it as a positive without taking many details into account.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

Generally, he's not the type to think through such a thing, or even intend anything as a "punishment" per se. It's more like, if he gets particularly heated in his emotions, such as being upset or angry over something, he can lose a little bit of his restraint on his own strength. His grip is tighter and tighter, his movements are harsher and faster and more brutal. But overall, he's not going to do something really torturous of painful to you. If anything, he's more likely to just break his usual characteristic of lacking restrictiveness and may actually lock you inside the room for a while... all while getting to rail you more every day, of course.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

Probably the waist and hips. Luffy is... grabby. He likes to have a firm grip on you a lot of the time, likes to keep his hands somewhere on your person. He's always dragging you from place to place and grabbing onto you (really, your struggling helps, you end up accidentally looping his arm around you a couple times over...). And the waist is the perfect place to grab you by! Helps him keep a nice firm grip.

#yandere one piece

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sandsorghum · 3 years

Text

2021 X'MAS X'CHANGE EVENT - WEEK 3

About the Event

Christmas is a time all about Giving & Receiving, so I figured, What better way to celebrate the season than to write about the Love Languages of some of our favourite Jujutsu Kaisen guys?

What's their default way of demonstrating love, and how do they want it reciprocated? In this series published over the next few Tuesdays, I'll be posting analyses + headcanons/mini drabbles of these four characters:

Week One - Gojo Satoru Week Two - Geto Suguru Week Three - Nanami Kento Week Four - Choso Kamo

And now for the man who turns my irises heartshaped

N A N A M I K E N T O

Both Giving and Receiving: Quality Time

What else would you expect from the sorcerer with an obsession about Overtime? Especially when you’ve become the reason he’s obsessed.

Nanami gets even stricter about knocking off the clock promptly, and has even less patience for Gojo's frivolous antics. Ironically, he's surprisingly lax if that time is spent with you; think lingering in bed for a few extra minutes in the morning, even if that means risking being late for work, or having to skip breakfast in order to be punctual.

Initially, he makes it a habit to see you at least once a week, no matter how busy he gets. Nothing agitates him more than having his plans to spend a whole Saturday or Sunday with you get interrupted, even if it's only by a phone call (if he sees the caller ID is Gojo he won't even bother picking up until the third time he rings, and if it's not an emergency the conversation rarely lasts longer than 10 seconds).

When you two become stable you'd think he'd be okay going a little while without contact, but nope, if anything his desire to meet up only doubles - and if he can't visit you in person, then expects lots of FaceTime (he's not much of a texter, but likes to hear your voice so you can ramble on about anything). He really detests long-distance missions now, and in his case the "Absence makes the heart grow fonder" epithet is 101% true.

For him, there's something sacred about your time together, and Kento favours activities where he has an "excuse" to extend the duration you're together; it starts with something simple like wanting to test out a complicated cake recipe that takes a few hours to make, (you're keeping an eye on the oven but he's happy just watching you).

Or think half-day craft workshops, wine tasting events or taking long drives to scenic destinations where there isn't anything to distract him from just being in your presence.

Nanami would cherish and closely guard the comfortable stages of your relationship. He's more than happy to simply spend an afternoon reading on the couch, with you nestled in his arms while you binge watch a series or pretend to listen to a podcast. Heck, he'd be delighted even if you just fell asleep against him, with nothing more than shared silence, the occasional flick of a page and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat surrounding you.

And because I am absolute S I M P for this man, I've written an entire drabble of how that Quality Time looks in a domestic setting below:

Nanami counts down the hours till he reunites with you, the moment he steps past the threshold, every minute melts together, slow and syrupy with the scent and feel of you. You’ve gotten good at giving barely apologetic “welcome back” pecks, because if you linger in his embrace longer than ten seconds, dinner will burn on the stove. He has a way of forcing you to focus on the fire in his eyes instead, and the gentle, roiling boil in your belly.

But he lets you get on with the meal, he understands sating this one type of hunger serves as an appetizer for another. He knows it won’t be long before you’re whet and wet… (I make no apologies)

You consider yourself quite a competent cook, and you tend to be pretty proud of and pleased by what you plate up, until of course, Nanami emerges, merely towel-clad from his shower; steaming, smelling and making your mouth water more than anything you’ve spent the past two hours preparing.

Who - I mean what’s the main course again?

This time, you want to avoid the embarrassment of him having to ask twice as you’re staring at his lips, the way they twitch up, amused and perplexed that he has to prompt you more than once for such a simple question. (Back then he definitely noticed your distraction, and thought it was adorable but he’ll never tell you that or how it made another part of him twitch)

You do a quick Google to remind yourself what the menu you’ve been fussing over for the past couple of hours is, before Nanami pulls up a chair - disappointingly, decently dressed.

You fell in love with a foodie, and the way he eats is so appreciative, it’s one of the first things (of the innumerable) that attracted you to him. He’s entirely engaged with the meal, analyzing aromas, asking about recipes, how you adapted it with your limited (yet steadily growing) arsenal of equipment, commenting about the freshness of the ingredients and inquiring which market or supplier you sourced them from. One of the hallmarks of your relationship is that he’s become more honest with his feedback, instead of being blithely complimentary about your culinary standards (which have improved since you started cooking together. He’s a little too exact, you were more "Just go with your gut and if it stays in the stomach, it’s good!")

You’d never taken him as someone effusive with his praise, even when warranted, so it’s a nice surprise to find out how unsparing he can be with his attention and passion. When he’s truly enjoying something though, he sits in complete silence, eyes involuntarily shut, fork or chopsticks poised between his lips - and you’ve never felt so goddamed envious of a bit of cutlery before. He lets out a low little hum you’re certain even he isn’t aware of, and your own reaction is Pavlovian, you can’t resist smiling at that sound. He’s caught it a few times when his eyes fly open, gaze swiftly searching for yours, eager to let you know how much he loves what you’ve done, even without words.

You’re the chef, but you feel so full, so well-fed when you see that expression. He’s nourishing, and ravishing all at once. The look he gives you promises to make good on the latter later tonight. Such in-depth conversations and moments extend the dinner hour, or hours occasionally, longer than they strictly need to be, but Nanami wouldn’t have it any other way, he wants all the time in the world at this table. But there are dishes to be done and pots to be scrubbed and matching aprons to put on.

You remember the first and so far only association between the word bashful and Nanami Kento, when he originally presented them to you It was also the first time you swore in front of him, which caught him completely by surprise. But you intended the expletive only to emphasize how endearing he was.

“Nanami, you’re so fucking cute sometimes, I -”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before you broke into more laughter as he shrugged and started to wear the apron, ribbons and all, accessorised with his gruff and reticent charm.

"Is it ok to use steelwool on this?”

~~~

Long nights with Nanami aren’t always due to the conduit of food as foreplay did someone suggest swapping out the third course for intercourse? He once pitted his stubbornness against an old scorch stain on the bottom of your Dutch oven, you begged him to just leave it to soak overnight babe isn’t there another oven you might want to put a bun in but he didn’t join you in bed till late, and then only smelling of lemons and white wine vinegar. Ordinarily you’d consider the combination of those ingredients potentially delicious, potent even, a citrus twist mingling with your man’s musk - but you’re restless and annoyed, that he’d busied his hands at the sink instead of beneath your sheets and now he’s tired. Peevishly you mused that he’d happily acquiesce if you asked, even directly, but you’re no longer in the mood now to appear alluring.

Plus, as you glance over at him reaching for his earphones on his nightstand, it seemed he had other plans. You contain your sigh and turn the page of your novel. You both had your own wind-down routines before you met, and they would rarely intersect. You usually tried to finish up a few chapters, he’d be listening to a podcast. Stock market forecasts or some other obscure series that fit under the financial advice category, you assumed.

Silence settled like a duvet over the two of you, each immersed in your respective stories.

You don’t mind this at all, you realize, comfortably nestled against Nanami’s chest, his arm draped around your shoulder. His hand encapsulates yours, rubbing small circles against your thumb. You really, really like this little habit of his.You realise you’re paying more attention to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat than the progress of the plot, it would be easier to doze off to…You feel something warm brush against the shell of your ear, something so familiar.

“You asleep?”

“No, not really, though asking that question is kinda counterintuitive if I was trying to.”

Nanami makes a sound in his throat that’s not quite a chuckle, it’s lost in the ruffle of his shirt as he pulls you closer against him.

“There’s something I want to share with you.”

There’s a rustle against your ears and this time it’s a slightly more foreign sensation, plastic and pliable and the voice of someone far more predisposed to suspense than Nanami.

“Oh, this is an audiobook?”

“Sort of a radio play. It’s a different story by the same author of this.”

Nanami taps the cover of the book that he had distracted you from, first unwittingly by his heartbeat and second, intentionally, with this recommendation. You’re only a few minutes in, but this narrative already sounds way more interesting. Well, that’s an understatement, you and Nanami end up binge-listening well past 2am and developing theories. You only stop because the subsequent episodes aren’t published yet. The next update will come in the following month. You declare the anticipation is agony, collapsing against the pillows, actually tired now. Nanami smiles, amused by your insomnia-induced melodrama and abrupt tailspin into exhaustion.

He leans over, pulling the blankets over you both and giving you a good night kiss on the cheek (or is it morning, by this point?). Before you drift off, you hear him murmur, “It’ll be worth the wait. I’m happy, just sharing this story with you.”

There’s something that sounds unusually sincere about his tone, something in between the lines of Nanami's simple statement, but you can’t quite be bothered to place it as sleep claims you. It matters little; there are many more mornings, afternoons and evenings where Nanami will reveal what he means, and how much you mean to him, in his own quiet, lingering ways.

#nanami kento hcs #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #nanami x y/n #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami headcanons #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x you #sandsorghum #jjk

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ofhouseadama · 2 years

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Obsessed with the “Kira knows what a Cardassian man who is interested acts like” and the hospital staff watching the situation unfold like “yes okay he’s saying all his lines when will the hero swoop in” 😂😂

we get so many strong examples of Hallmark Cardassian Possessiveness in DS9, both good and bad. we see Natima Lang and her fierce loyalty and devotion to her students, we see the way that Tekeny Ghemor is so full of love for his daughter even after so many years separated from her, that he can't stop from it brimming and spilling over into paternal love for Kira. we get Dukat and his possessiveness and deep creepy emotions for... well, almost every woman he comes into contact with, and his children. we see it manifest in Tain in the way he treats Garak and Mila, and the rest of the Obsidian Order to a lesser degree, as things that he quite literally owns and possesses.

as for Garak himself... I've always associated the Frankenstein quote -- "I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. if I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other" -- with him very strongly. Garak has never been allowed to satisfy the amount of love within him, or even truly explore his capacity for love. his entire existence has been shaped by Tain, and the necessity to be loyal and subservient and unquestioningly obedient to Tain. he's only ever gotten to indulge the rage. sentiment is a weakness. there's something that happens within you when your father looks you in the eye and tells you that he could never love you, that love is the greatest weakness a man can have. Garak's spent his entire life denying his nature and stunting himself in order to survive Tain.

this is a very long way of saying that Garak has an immense capacity for love and loyalty and devotion and protection and after Tain and Mila die, has nowhere to put it. and yes, yes he will point it at rebuilding Cardassia and joining whatever efforts are put forth in the creation of a progressive party and creating a new form of government, but the State can't love you back. Garak, at the end of DS9, is a Cardassian without a family. he is a Cardassian alone. more so than he ever has been -- his association with the Obsidian Order and with Tain has isolated him his entire life, and the stain follows him in this Brand New Cardassia. he has to decide who and what he is going to be. Garak has never before been afforded this luxury. I don't think he knows how

enter: Julian Bashir, Federation Disaster Relief Aid Worker

the only person who has ever truly chosen Garak. I think once Garak gets over the fear and the anxiety and lifelong training to avoid emotional entanglements and sentiment in a real way (not just by occasionally acting through impulse like letting Julian stay in the room for Tain's shri-tal and death among other things

like there's no going back, right? this is it. either he figures this out, figures out how to be in this relationship in a real, figures out that it's not fair for either of them for Julian to love him but never really know him, that this won't bury him, won't drown him, won't suffocate him in his sleep or slip poison in his tea, leave him open for attack -- Garak would be really, really good at the Husband Shit (TM)

like, Garak is the guy who's always going to come for you. those that would harm you will die screaming. he will follow you into hell and unlike Orpheus, he's never gonna look back.

and I think there's a moment when he gets the call from the hospital's chief of medicine that he hears Tain's voice in his head -- that this is it, this is Garak's one true weakness. his desire to be the hero for someone, to lovingly and willingly put his head on the chopping block for all to see. to declare openly that the way to get him to act, is to threaten this human. as if Tain hadn't made it abundantly clear that before Julian, the way to get to Garak and to get him to willingly put himself in mortal danger was to threaten Tain. as if it wasn't Tain himself, willingly dragging his son into that very mortal danger

but here's the thing, and when you get it, you finally get it

when someone loves you back, when someone really loves you in a way that is good and whole and true and the way that you love them

it makes you stronger

and so you have Garak, the fourth ranking member of the Cardassian Unionist Party and Minister of State and Senior Counselor to the Castellan, a man who is feared and whispered about and rumored to be soulless and cold and maybe guilty, but not remorseful for his actions in the old regime, the Son of Tain

walking into the Corat Damar Memorial Hospital with a dozen members of his military guard, armed to the teeth, and if he cannot satisfy the love inside him he will indulge the rage and he doesn't care who knows it. he will make sure that the Federation and Starfleet and Section 31 and whoever in the Admiralty thinks Julian is an asset and a weapon to be deployed or hurt lockered knows that

because he's been the thing that goes bump in the night. he's been the thing that has disappeared men and women and boyfriends and girlfriends and handed them over to the deep dark hole that they never crawled out of. this is not a ghost story or tale told to frighten children for him. he knows what happens after men like him get their hands on someone. he knows what comes next

it's bluster and it's not and it's a gambit and it's not when he tells the agent in charge that they have no jurisdiction here, arresting a Federation citizen on Cardassian soil without permission from the provisional Cardassian government -- and that very soon, in minutes actually, they will be committing an act of war if they try to remove Julian Bashir from these premises. it feels a bit like he's looking into a mirror when he says it, or through some kind of distortion. he's been on the other side. he knows the agent sees himself as a hero. he knows these agents see Julian as a threat to be contained for the safety of the Federation and its citizens, that it's only a matter of time before he commits a crime. that perhaps his association with Cardassia and Garak himself is evidence enough

Garak knows how this story goes, from the other point of view

and the Federation agent probably makes the mistake of thinking that this is a negotiation. to which Garak responds, "The only reason you're alive now is Dr. Bashir was untouched when we arrived. But if I am correct, that is more due the competency of the administration of this hospital than it does the way you wished to conduct this mission. Here's how this is going to go."

and anyway, yes, every member of the hospital staff within earshot and some outside of it are being very very quiet trying to make sure they don't miss anything. because they know that the moment that the people doing the disappearing get their hands on the person they're disappearing, that's it. game over. everyone go home. you're never seeing that person again.

but this shit? right out of a romance novel.

Garak's gonna have the (second, maybe third) worst adrenaline crash in his life afterwards, though

#ask #anonymous #otp: there's hope for you yet #emily watches ds9

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the-valiant-valkyrie · 3 years

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Alright alright alright, I'm finally home now so I can put my musings about the Triumphants onto paper at last. I'll put it under a cut though since it's probably gonna be kind of long.

Okay so bare with me here, but I was musing around with friends regarding the Triumphant skins and we stumbled upon something that seems... literally so obvious in hindsight, I don't really know how I haven't really thought of it until now. I'll just say it outright, okay, here we go:

The Triumphant skins do not represent the forms the survivors would take if they fully embraced the power of the throne and became the monarchs of the Constant. Or, at the very least, after much scrutinization, it would be very unlikely that this would be the case.

To spoil my own theory before giving you the facts here, I think that the Triumphant skins- instead of being throned versions of the survivors- are iterations of the survivors mutilated by Charlie's desires. Warped by her hand, if you will. And I've exactly three reasons that I suspect this is the case:

Reason number one: we've seen what Maxwell looks like when he's embraced- or at the very least stopped fighting against- the nature of the throne; we've seen both his appearance in magical apparitions, as well as the true form that's tethered to the chair. While both of them were unique, neither of them shared the same visual aesthetic that the rest of the triumphant skins embody. The antagonistic version of Maxwell has always had more color, with multiple shades of purples, greys, and even occasionally whites making up his usual palette. The Triumphants, on the other hand, don exclusively greys and blacks, with splashes of red at most as their only accents.

If the Triumphants were supposed to represent the appearance of a throned ruler, then how come Maxwell bares no resemblance to them? There's only one person who so strongly obeys the black and red motif, and that's Charlie. Meaning it would obviously make sense if those who stemmed from her hand- created in her image- all followed such a set color scheme, instead of branching out in a variety of colors and styles, had they actual control of their appearances.

Reason number two: Maxwell's triumphant skin itself. Obviously, from the perspective of wanting to create a collectable item people would want to... you know, collect, if the Triumphant skins were supposed to represent throned iterations of the survivors, then obviously they would need to shake it up a bit with Maxwell, to make the set something unique to the rest.

However, if the Triumphant sets were made not to represent throned versions of the survivors, but to present exactly how Charlie might- if presented with the opportunity- contort said survivors into shadows of their former selves, wouldn't it make complete sense for her to mutate Maxwell back into the man he used to be? Into the man he trusted? The man he was before he started this mess, trapped her in this place, and forced her into the body of an ungodly creature? The only way, really, to improve upon someone as flawed as Maxwell is to eliminate Maxwell entirely, after all.

Reason number three: uhh Winona literally like. has a rose on the back of her Triumphant skin. Which was a bit of a dead giveaway for me after I remembered that. I mean, I know Winona came into a picture almost a year after the triumphant skins were first originally announced, but there's literally no other explanation I have for her sharing a motif so obviously linked to Charlie if she wasn't... oh, I don't know, under the influence of Charlie. Even if she is aware of Charlie's affinity to roses- which she has no reason not to be, in honesty- she doesn't like them! Not even roses! If Winona of all people gotten herself into a scenario where she succumbed to the embrace of the throne and became fucked up and evil to the point where she'd see it fit to rule over the Constant with an iron fist, what reason would she have to plaster a flower over her back of her own accord? None.

ANYWAYS. All this to say that, after much deliberation, I doubt that we've actually had any canon answers as to what each survivor would look like if they truly became rulers of the constant. And I personally think we should get on that and start designing Throned Survivor outfits like. Immediately. Thank you for coming to my TEDtalk

#don't starve #don't starve together #don'tstarve #dst #i always feel so cringe breaking out the tags bhfdksbfhds but i feel like i haven't heard this anywhere!!!#and- as aforementioned- in hindsight this seems like such a simple conclusion to come to!!! so i don't know why it took me. five fuckin yea #*years #charlie: 'you can fix them'?? oh that's cute. i can make them worse.#charlie: i can make ALL of them worse #anyways i don't know how to design outfits at all. but i really wanna make a throned wigfrid design now #so wish me luck i guess bhfjdslkbfhds #i hope this post is legible i hope it's not completely incomprehensible

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friendraichu · 3 years

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Been thinking about how to put into words how I've been feeling. Whenever something big happens in my life I feel the urge to write about it, but my brain has been struggling to actually write words down this time. There's just so much I could say. Here goes, cause I need to get it out.

On November 23rd I found out my grandpa passed away. Several months back I wrote about him essentially coming out to me as a trans woman (although he did not use that term). It was a lot to process and I never got to talk with him beyond that. My grandfather was a stoic person, kind of hard to read and unemotional. I felt had I only scratched the surface of getting to know him as a person, not just a grandparent. So it will always be a big regret that I never got to know more about not just him, but her.

Grandpa lived a kind of double life. As far as I can tell, much of his personal time was spent living as her. Any non-government/official mail was addressed to [Feminine Name]. Woman's clothing catalogues were her most common mail. Now that I think about it, he probably spent far more time as her than as him.

In my grandpa's life, I have no idea the kind of vocabulary he used to describe how he lived. Did he consider himself a cross dresser? A drag queen? Transsexual, transgender? I don't know. All I know is that when he wasn't with us, he seemed to live much of his private life as a woman.

When he came out he implied that "she" no longer existed. But she clearly still existed in some capacity, given how wholly this identity seemed ingrained into his personal life. For as long as I can remember he had long hair and long fingernails, and he always wore a ponytail.

I still have the hot pink hair tie he left at my Dad's house while he was recovering from surgery. I wore it occasionally, telling myself I was just borrowing it until I saw him again. But now I suppose it's mine, and suddenly it's precious to me.

A grandfather I barely knew and a grandmother I never got to know. Feels like two losses at once, if that makes sense.

There were so many things I wanted to ask and know even though I suspect he would have been reluctant to give me solid answers. It's a selfish desire, but I had it nonetheless. But more than anything, I'd give up knowing anything more about her just to have him back.

He died alone, in a hoarded house, 10 months after heart surgery. My dad was there when they found him. He had not been inside his childhood home since the 70s, when he went back the next day and actually stepped inside, it was clear that there was no saving the house, either.

This might not have been such a painful goodbye had we gotten to see and care for him more, had he not continually refused to consider assisted living, slipping away near the end of his recovery and going home while my dad was out. He had been healthier with my dad caring for him, looking out for his dietary and hygiene needs. He even acknowledged as much.

But the urge to return to familiarity and perceived safety was too great. Hoarding disorder combined with a very understandable fear that he would not be able to live the life he wanted in assisted living prevented him from letting us help. And we'll never know for sure if 10 months was all he had left or if he would have lived longer in better care.

I wouldn't have minded if he never spoke to me about her ever again, no matter how much I want to know. If he could just be with us, and let me get to know whoever he felt comfortable showing me.

My grandfather experienced a great deal of trauma in his life that he didn't much talk about, but you could tell it left a tinge of bitterness and stunted emotions. Combined with who knows how many years of potential gender dysphoria, and you end up with a rather closed off, enigmatic individual (although my grandpa would probably have never admitted as much).

We knew he loved us, even if he had some trouble expressing it. I hope with all my heart that he knew we loved him. And I think we all would have loved her, too, if we'd gotten the chance.

Thank you, Grandpa, for letting me meet you for possibly the first time. Thank you for trusting me with knowing her, knowing you. I will cherish that gift of trust and vulnerability for as long as I live.

I love you, I miss you. You're free.

#family death #grandparent death #personal #do not reblog #personal writing #death mention

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maddie-grove · 3 years

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Little Book Review: Songs of Innocence and of Experience

Author: William Blake.

Publication Date: 1794.

Genre: Poetry.

Premise: In this bifurcated collection of poems, William Blake explores the duality of the human soul. In Songs of Innocence, originally published by itself in 1789, happy children and domesticated animals abound, with only the occasional hint at child labor or the slave trade to complicate the view. In Songs of Experience, the animals are scary, the plants are blighted, and industrialism and/or organized religion has ruined everything. Also, my edition has pictures of William Blake's accompanying watercolor illustrations, which are pretty trippy.

Thoughts: Like many modern people, I'm not entirely sure how to enjoy poetry. Do you memorize it? Perform it for tolerant friends on picnics? Read it all in one go? Take notes about the weirdly horny parts? The possibilities abound, but, in the case of William Blake, I've come pretty close to an answer. That is, I recite it to my family's cat, Bitty. "Little lamb, who made thee? Dost thou know who made thee?" I ask him, when he's being nice. When he's in a more fiery mood, I go with "The Tyger" (or, worse, a shameful parody of "The Tyger" that starts "Bitty, Bitty, purring loud/soft and fluffy like a cloud"). In capturing the duality of the human soul, Blake also captured the duality of the cat soul...or maybe just what my human soul imagines the cat soul to be. It's hard to tell.

Of course, I developed this habit after reading just a handful of Blake poems for an English literature course. Back then, a few phrases also lodged themselves in my head and stayed there for about thirteen years: "mind-forg'd manacles," "binding with briars/my joys and desires," "marks of weakness, marks of woe." My most vivid memory was of "The Sick Rose," which I remembered in its entirety ("O rose thou art sick/The invisible worm/That flies in the night/In the howling storm/Has found out thy bed/Of crimson joy/And his dark secret love/Does thy life destroy"). I like Blake best when he's grounded in the physical world, regardless of whether that physicality is based in something literal (1790s London, a chimney-sweeping moppet) or a metaphor (a Tyger, a Poison-Tree). Sometimes he'll just say his thoughts ("On Another's Sorrow"), which is fine but can feel a little Sunday School-ish.

On that subject, while reading the whole collection, I often found myself thinking of my late grandmother. She was a devout Methodist with a somewhat off-kilter view of the world; similarly, William Blake was a devout English Dissenter turned devout ??? who had extremely unconventional views, as well as possible hallucinations throughout his life. I think they would have gotten along; at the very least, I think I could have framed some prints of his watercolors/poems and placed them in her house without her batting an eye.

Hot Goodreads Take: "I honestly found him creepy and gave off some bad vibes to me on who he may have been as a person based on the poetry. I’m not going to disclose my full opinion of the man but I’ve hinted," one reviewer says ominously. Look, William Blake has been dead 194 creepy, creepy years. You can say that he was...unfair to Tygers? I'm not sure what she's driving at here.

#little book review #songs of innocence and of experience #william blake #okay i think i know what she's driving at but it's needlessly unpleasant if i'm right #also yes memaw's home could be a precious moments zone #that's not an insult to blake it just is what it is

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just-a-quirkless-loser · 4 years

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Maybe We’re Not Meant To Be

Alpha Izuku x Omega Reader

Warning: Sexual Content Below

Word Count: 3.9K

Two years of dating Izuku was no easy task. As sweet as the man is, he often blundered when it came to the love life (or the lack thereof) the two of you shared. No one questions his devotion to you. You’re cold? Midoriya will give you the shirt off his back. You’re hungry? Midoriya runs to the nearest store to grab you something (he doesn't care if it’s miles away). Two years of dating the most considerate person in the world yet, you selfishly yearned for more.

A mating mark; a silent reminder to onlookers that you were taken by one of the most eligible alphas in Japan. You wanted your skin to be marred by his long fangs and you wanted to leave your own mark on him. But after two years of waiting, it felt as though maybe he didn’t want to mark you.

‘Maybe we’re not meant to be.’

At first, you didn’t mind that Midoriya wasn't quick to ask to bound you; it showed that he cared about you rather than force himself on you for the rest of your life. It was nice to have him court you but, you’re getting older. You never wanted to admit that biology was correct but, you felt yourself slowly facing the realities.

It’s easy to push the want away, hiding it deep in your mind to only ponder over every once in a while. But, every once in a while becomes every day. It makes you wonder if there’s something wrong with you.

You watch as all of your friends start to show off their marks, they start to get married, one by one having pups. And, you’re there for all of it. Silently cheering everyone else on from the sideline but, awaiting your turn to race.

You’re quietly bitter. All you can think about is having mini versions of Midoriya and yourself running around. What would they look like? What would they smell like? Would they want to be heroes? Your desire to have a physical manifestation of your love to care for and nurture grew. It seems like the closest you’ll ever get to that dream is when you're around other people’s pups.

“Wow, Y/N! How did you get her to be that quiet?” Uraraka asks you with an amazed expression. She watched you cuddle her close to your chest, rocking her off to sleep after her latest tantrum. “You're such a natural.”

“Thank you. I've always loved kids,” you're mesmerised by the rise and fall of the pups chest as she breathes. It’s nice having something so small depend on you.

“You’d make a great mom,” she doesn’t miss how you tense and, for the fleetest of moments, a scent of resentment seeps from your pores. Why should you have to sit and take care of someone else’s baby when you want one? “I’m sorry if I said something wrong.”

“No, no, you’re fine. I was just thinking,” you put the sleeping pup down to its duvet. “I want one. I want what you have so bad it hurts.”

“Why don’t you talk to Deku? I’m sure he’d love to have a baby with you,” she smiles to push your hurt away but, it only makes you grimace eternally.

“For us to talk, he’d have to be home for more than thirty minutes before he crashes out in bed,” that ends the conversation. You knew that dating a pro hero with ambitions like Izuku’s would be no walk in the park however, you didn't think it would be this hard.

You know he didn’t mean to but, Midoriya has inadvertently neglected you. First, it was forgetting date night due to the need to pursue a link to a villian. Then, it was forgetting your birthday to finish some paperwork. It seemed like something always popped up that Midoriya had to follow but, you couldn’t hold a grudge; he’s always been the type to help.

‘You knew what you were getting into when you chose to date him,’ you blamed yourself. You can't just expect him to change (and you grew bitter for that as well).

“Izuku,” you started across from him on the floor. He looked up at you with those dark green hues, giving you his full attention. “Izuku, why haven’t you marked me yet?”

“Y-Y/N, ahh you caught me off guard. I mean, do you want me to mark you?” he always does this; reverse the question when he doesn’t know the right answer.

“Izuku, I asked you a question,” you put your chopsticks down.

“Well, I don’t think I should bind myself to you,” cue the dramatic scent drop. “N-No it’s not you, it’s me. Okay, that sounds cliché but I just, I don't want to keep you from finding someone better.”

‘THERE ISN’T ANYONE BETTER THAN YOU,’ the words were stuck in your mouth. The conversation should have ended there but you were hurt.

“Y/N, please, say something. Are you mad?”

‘Yes.’ “No.”

“Are you sure? You haven’t take-”

“I’m fantastic. Just not as hungry as I thought I was. But, I’m glad you told me. Now, how was your day?” It hurts but your grin through it. The conversation shouldn’t end there but, you have no desire to see what other bullshit can leave the alpha’s mouth.

You know he doesn’t mean it in this way but, doesn’t that mean that Midoriya doesn’t see you as a life partner? Wouldn’t it be safe to say that he’d leave you if he found someone better? Weren’t you just wasting your time?

“Are you sure you’re okay? We can talk about it if you want,” he pauses to yawn. “Maybe, tomorrow though. It was such a long day. All Might was-“ ahh yes, All Might. You’re sure you know more about him than you do about Midoriya’s mother.

You feel unwanted, used, and taken advantage of. You do everything for him: cook, clean, support, help him with leads that stump him, drag him to bed, bandage him up. Yet, your efforts have only gotten you in a position where you’re positive Midoriya only keeps you around for entertainment. It’s a bad feeling.

But, you can’t bring yourself to pack your belongings and leave. Your inner Omega is intertwined with his, even without the mating mark. She wants to be with him till the very end; till either one of you dies and the other soon follows into the afterlife.

But, the feelings just keep growing. They’re in the back of your mind as you kiss Izuku, they’re in the corner of your bedroom as you cuddle with him, they’re blaring in the car as you falsely laugh. So, you suppose it’s half your fault that things have gotten to the point that they currently are.

Today, you woke up in a particularly good mood. Midoriya had made your favorite breakfast and kissed you roughly before he left the house.

“I have a feeling something’s going to happen today; make sure to call me when you get to work and when you get home,” his lips pressed down on you almost urgently, making your insides quiver. “And, make sure you check your surroundings.”

“I will Izuku. I’ll see you later,” and he went out to save the world. You got dressed in some leggings and a blouse and headed off to your café. While it wasn’t the flashiest job for a person with a powerful quirk like yours, you loved watching the little pups pick out what they wanted. Occasionally, you could even pick them up.

“Hai, Y/N. I have some fresh scones waiting to be put out,” one of your workers greeted you. You h/c colored hair was pulled into a messy game, a few tendril framing your face. There was a low gust of air from the door behind you. Another mother with her pup.

You got to work helping wherever you could, throwing powder sugar at your workers whenever they were being too impatient; you have a knack for doing things slowly till you get them perfect.

“As to be expected of such an analytical quirk,” one of your best employees, Kagey, tells you.

“You’re just mad because I won’t allow you to rush my beautiful cakes,” you stick your tongue out at him.

“No, I’m mad because you’ve made me wait for ten minutes just so you could place those fucking cakes. And they’re placed crooked. I could’ve been over there serving that hottie. Look at himmmm,” Kagey shakes your shoulders while fawning over some unsuspecting soul.

“Ummm, you forget I have Izuku,” you raise one of your eyebrows.

“There’s no crime in looking. It’s not like you’ve got a mark,” you crack your neck. “Sorry, I forget that’s a sore subject for you. “

“It’s fine. And, who’s the poor victim you’re staring at this time,” he points to a man you’re well acquainted with: Monoma Neito.

His blonde hair is still light but he’s grown it to be a little above his shoulders. Those beady eyes that used to be rimming with anger and discontent are finally happy and playful. He’s filled out, body-wise, and you can tell he’s bulging with muscle.

‘Izuku’s better.’

“Damn, that glow hit him like a truck,” Kagey pushes your shoulders forward. “Okay, bitch, stop being pushy.”

“Ofcourse, you know a beefcake like that. Introduce me to him! I’d love to get my tongue on him,” you shudder with disgust at that mental image. “Don’t look like that. My men always leave me satisfied.”

“I didn’t know that was how people describe STI’s nowadays. I really am a Boomer now,” he smack you upside the head. “Okay, okay, I’m going. Just stop hitting me.”

You wander over to Monoma, trying to decide what’s the best way to approach him. You decide on being direct.

“Monoma,” he turns and his face lights up with recognition. “Hai, it’s been so long. Welcome to my shop”

“Y/N!? You own this place? I would’ve thought you’d want to be a hero. It’s good to see you,” he grabs your hand in his. His hands are warm, no doubt he’s probably feeling the strength of your quirk. He’s always been the handsy type. “You’re single? What happened to Izuku?”

“We’re still together. We’re just taking things slow,” you shrugged off his gaze. “Plenty of people do it.”

“So, no mark and no ring. You’re basically single,” you ruffle up and his tone. You had forgotten he can be as blunt as yourself, one of the main reasons you had been good friends.

“You could say that if that’s what you believe. But, this isn’t about me. My friend over there, Kagey,” you point your thumb over at the fool. “He wanted to know if you’d like to go on a date.”

“You and I both know I’m straight. But, I appreciate the offer,” Monoma raises his voice so Kagey can hear. You can hear muffled cursing about straight men behind you following his statement. “But, I’d love to take you out sometime this week.”

“I have Izuku.”

“Do you really? You know alphas are preconditioned to mark what they feel belongs to them. What does that say about you?” He knows exactly how to manipulate your mind.

“...when are you free?”

***

You were shaking as you applied your makeup. Today was the day that you were going to go on a small date with Monoma. Nothing too serious; just an outing with a friend that just so happens to be an alpha.

Why were you shaking? Well, you hadn’t told Izuku about your plans. He normally gets home later in the night and you had planned on getting back from your date earlier than him. But, what if he found out? Well, it shouldn't matter, right?

He did tell you that you could find someone else (although, now as the moment was nearing, you started to doubt how serious he was when he told you). So, it shouldn’t be a big deal. It’s not like you were planning on running away with this alpha. But, would Izuku understand that?

‘He’s not even going to find out. No point in worrying about it,’ you hissed as you accidentally poked your eye with your makeup brush.

The soft material of the skirt stretched across your thighs as you paced through the halls. Were you really going to do this?

“Y/N, I’m home baby. I picked up some pizza for us,” you froze. Out of all the times for Izuku to come home early, he chose the day when you were going to converse with another alpha. You thought about trying to run back to the bedroom but he was already halfway to the kitchen and he would most likely hear you.

“Ohhhh that’s great. Really great,” you inched towards the couch to try to cover yourself in the pillows.

“Yeah, why are you covered in the pillows? Are you building a new nest here? Want me to go get my shirts?” You immediately felt guilty all over again. Here you were about to betray him and he’s being selfless.

“NOOO, no, just, stay right there,” you sink in further as you hoped he’d leave you alone. Unfortunately for you, Izuku doesn’t leave anything alone if he thinks something is wrong.

“What’s wrong, omega?” He gets closer and sniffs the air. “Are you wearing perfume?”

“Yeahhhh, wanted to try something new,” you avoid eye contact.

“Why aren’t you looking at me?”

“...”

“Omega, look at me please.”

“Izuku, I’m just not feeling well.”

“Look at me.”

You look at him with small tears in the corners of your eyes.

“Awww, omega. Are you okay? What’s wrong?” He starts to emit a soothing smell for you.

“Izuku, I have a-“ the doorbell interrupts you. You know it’s Monoma. You know you can’t get up to get the door. You know that you are fucked.

“I’ll get it. But, when they leave, we are talking about what’s wrong,” you gulp. You hear Midoriya open the door.

“Midoriya, it’s nice to see you. Is Y/N ready?” There’s the nail in the coffin.

“What do you mean?

“We have a date tonight.”

“No you fucking don’t.”

“Um, we do. I asked her out the other day at her café,” you hear silence till you hear the unmistakable sound of Izuku’s growl. The air becomes stiffling as his pheromones threaten to choke you to death. You cower in the pillows, listening to Izuku grab Monoma and pull him into the room. No matter how much he told you he’d be fine with you finding another alpha, you should’ve known your actions would drive him feral.

“Why the fuck is he here?” Izuku snarled in your face. You were silently sobbing, ashamed of what your actions had caused. “FUCKING ANSWER ME, OMEGA.”

“Y-you’re the one that said you weren’t mating me in case I found someone better,” you pushed the pillow into his face as you stood to defend yourself. “Why are you so fucking mad? You drove me to this.”

“Don’t try to fucking blame me. You should have told me. So, you really want him?” You nodded your head to spite him. “No, you don’t. You just want to piss me off. Well, if that’s the objection, you accomplished your goal. Now, strip.”

“What?” The false confidence was wearing off.

“You wanted to make me mad and you did. You want a mating mark? I’ll give you one. Now, strip for your punishment,” you shakily point to Monoma that was wide-eyed in Izuku’s grip. “Yes, in front of him. He needs to see you belong to me since he’s clearly a visual learner.”

You slowly reach behind and unzip your skirt. You push the fabric down your legs to bunch at you ankles, step out of them, and shakily pull at the hem of your shirt. You lock eyes with Monoma as you pull it above your head. The air feels cold against your soft skin. You stand there in your bra and panties, awaiting Izuku’s next command.

“I said strip. Keep going,” you gulp.

“I should leave,” Izuku slams Monoma into a chair. He grips his shoulder so hard you can hear a small crack.

“Nahhhh, stay. I’m sure you knew she belonged to me but, this is a good reminder,” Izuku turns back to watch your breasts spill from your bra. Your nipples pebble from the attention you’re getting. You slip your panties down your legs, reaching for a pillow to cover yourself.

“No, show him what belongs to me. Turn around and bend over,” you slowly turn, placing your hands on the sofa behind you. You clench your legs together. You bend at the waist, hearing two sharp intakes of breath.

You stand there like an exhibit, slick pooling in between your legs. You’re sure they can see your nether lips glistening with arousal as well as the wall, your breasts hanging from the position.

“Look at how wet she is for me, Monoma. I bet you wish she was like that for you,” Izuku’s breath fans across your ass. His hands gently cups your waist, tugging you backwards so he can muzzle your ass crack. “Such a beautiful body. All mine.”

“IZUKU,” you scream out as he suddenly slaps your ass. It makes more slick fall between your legs but, it still stings as a punishment. “I’ll be good omega.”

“I know baby. You’re always such a good girl. You just need to be corrected. I’ve been giving you a little too much free reign. Wanted to be sensitive alpha. Wanted to give you time. No more of that,” you shivered at the promise. “Gonna give you exactly what you need.”

A tirade of smacks rain down on your behind, lighting up your backside. You yelp and try to pull away but are restrained by Izuku’s strong arms. He’s the one supporting your weight as you crash down against the couch, the front half of your body slumped down.

“Awww, is Omega tired? But, we’re just getting started,” from behind you, you can hear Monoma’a breathing get heavier. “Let’s give fuckface a good show baby.”

You’re about to question what he means when Izuku stands up, walks over, and rips the tie from Monoma’s neck. He walks back over to you, tying your arms together.

“I’m in control,” he says. You quiver when you hear Izuku’s knees hit the floor behind you. Only moments later his face is buried in your heat, lapping like a dog. It sounds so lewd to hear him slurp at your juices.

He starts off slowly kissing the backs of your thighs, gripping you by your ass cheeks as he pulls your globes apart. You feel exposed when he takes an exaggerated sniff. “I’ve missed this. Need to start being more attentive to my baby.”

He licks up and down your slit, lightly nibbling on your clit as he circles it, pulling it between his lips to give it a harsh suck. Your hole clenches around nothing as you moan and try to cant your hips into his face. Your efforts are rewarded with a warning smack.

“Just enjoy my tongue,” he positions you to be on your knees as he continues to eat you out. He first slips in one finger to the knuckle, reveling in the debauched groan that leaves your beautiful lips. Your lips are parted as drool rubs down the left side of your face. Your eyes go crossed eyed from Izuku slipping in another finger and curling them upwards, those two fingers touching that spongy texture inside of you. The perfect Ahegao face. A vision of wrecked.

“That’s it, cum all over my fingers,” he continues to finger fuck you through your orgasm, latching back onto your clit. You shiver from the overstimulation, wanting to run with nowhere to go. You’ve forgotten Monoma as you whimper.

“Zuku’ too much. Please,” you’re shaking as you bite into the sofa to mute your screams.

“Aht aht aht, I wanna hear you fucking moan for me. Let him know who’s making you feel this good,” he allows his lone hand to stroke your stomach, knowing that was one of your sweet spots. You whine loudly as you cum once again, mascara running.

“Nooo more. Izuku. Please. Alpha,” you’re stuck there. Forced to take all the pleasure he gives you.

“I think you can give me more baby,” he removes himself from you as he unbuttoned his jeans. “Monoma, you wanna know something funny.”

“What?”

“I bet you thought you’d be the one to fuck her pretty pussy tonight,” Izuku laughs with no amusement behind the sound. “Never thought you’d be forced to watch.”

Izuku pushes his hard cock between your legs, smearing your juices across his shaft. He grabs his cock as he toys with your entrance, pushing the tip of his cock between your lips and groaning at the sight. Your pussy grips the tips in a vice, trying to suck him in further.

“Alpha, stop teasing me. Please. More. Give it to me.”

“I thought you couldn’t take anymore,” he teases.

“Pleaseeeee ohiuuhhh yess,” you throw your head back when you feel him push all the way in in one motion. Your toes curl as his cock strains against your walls, forcing you to take it all. He expertly pulls back and gives an experimental thrust.

“Look at that pussy, Monoma. Isn’t it nice? Too bad you’ll never get to feel my pussy,” he sets a bruising pace, never giving you a chance to recover. You hear your own whines mixed in with his pelvis slapping against your ass, your body rocking forward from the force of his body.

He wraps his hand around your neck, lifting your body so he can make you meet his thrusts. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum around his cock but, you’re okay with being used like a cocksleeve.

“I’m gonna fuck my babies into your tight pussy. Gonna breed you,” you mewl. “Is that what you wanted? Pups?”

You nod as you cry, partly from the overstimulation but also from the emotional state you’ve been reduced to.

“I’ll give you as many pups as you want. Looks like I’ll have to fuck you out of your mind more to get you to talk to me,” he growls beside your side and he leans over you, crushing you beneath him as he pushes your body to scrunch beneath him, pounding you like he hated you.

“Are you gonna cum again,” you nod due to your raw throat. You’re clenching and the pleasure starts to build but, this time, it feels different. Your vision goes out as you spasm, stars coming across your eyes as you squirt all over his cock, making a mess on the cock bellow you. Your tightness pushes Izuku into his orgasm.

“Cum for me, Omega. Cum for your alpha,” you whine as you spasm but nothing comes out. He’s pushed you into a dry orgasm. You feel his hot spurts of cum enter your pussy, coating everywhere inside of you. His teeth sink into your neck, making you his forever.

“Izuku,” you whine.

“Feels good, omega?” You nod. He slowly pulls out from behind you, tapping your ass like a horse.

“Get the fuck out,” Monoma doesn’t have to be told twice as he runs out. Izuku grabs a few baby wipes from the kitchen and comes back to wipe your pussy.

“You’re mine. Never forget that.”

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I hope you all enjoyed this. I was asked to write this a longgggg time ago and I’m so sorry for it taking so much time to complete. I rewrote this a total of three times and I’m finally happy with the end result.

Tag List: @sakurashortstack @sinclairsamess

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