#and they all refused to avoid going there

[pinkthick]

Humiliating, isn’t it?

Pairing: The Salesman x Fem!Reader

Summary: “You could pay all your debts with this,” he said, his voice soft, almost enticing. His gaze shifted to you, sharp and calculating. “But it’s not free.”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. “What do you mean?”

A/N: This is probably wayyy out of his character, but I haven’t watched season 2 yet (I don’t have Netflix 😭) and just saw an edit with him on tiktok and suddenly my obsession with him came back from 2021. So there are no spoilers!!!

Warnings: blowjob (m receiving), cum swallowing

If you’re not 18 DNI BECAUSE I WILL HAUNT YOUR DREAMS🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

The metro station was cold, the flickering overhead lights casting dim shadows on the walls. Your steps echoed faintly as you trudged forward, your head bowed to avoid the stares of passersby. You could feel their judgment, their pity, their disgust. You didn’t blame them—you looked like hell. Blood crusted your upper lip, the remnants of a nosebleed from earlier when some thug decided to teach you a lesson about unpaid debts. Your cheek stung, swelling just beginning to bloom.

You winced as you adjusted the strap of your worn-out bag. Your ribs ached, a dull, persistent throb that reminded you how low you’d sunk. Debt was a beast that refused to loosen its grip. It clung to you, suffocated you, and drove you into situations you’d never imagined.

As you shuffled down the platform, you barely registered the man who bumped into you until you staggered back, your body colliding with the wall. “Sorry—I didn’t watch where I was going,” he said, his tone oddly pleasant.

You blinked up at him, taking in his immaculate gray suit and perfectly combed hair. His smile was disarming, polite but sharp, like the edge of a blade.

“It’s quite alright,” you muttered, instinctively brushing yourself off despite already looking like a wreck. The man didn’t move on, though. Instead, he studied you, his gaze lingering on the dried blood and the faint bruise forming beneath your eye.

“Rough day?” he asked, a trace of amusement in his voice.

You gave a humorless laugh. “Something like that.”

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a neatly folded handkerchief, offering it to you. You hesitated before taking it, dabbing at your nose. The fabric was smooth, expensive, and it felt wrong to smear your blood on something so pristine.

“I have a game,” the man said suddenly, his voice lowering as if he were sharing a secret. “Would you like to play?”

The fuck?

You frowned. “A game?”

He nodded, his smile widening. “It’s simple. You could win money—enough to change your life.”

Your skepticism must have been obvious because he chuckled, a soft, almost paternal sound. “It’s harmless, I assure you. You look like someone who could use a bit of good fortune.”

You thought of your debts, the people breathing down your neck, the empty fridge in your apartment. Against your better judgment, you found yourself asking, “What’s the game?”

He gestured to a nearby bench, and you followed him, still wary. From his briefcase, he pulled out a folded board and a stack of rectangular tiles, explaining the rules of ddakji. It sounded simple enough: flip the opponent’s tile using your own. He placed a stack of cash on the bench beside him, its presence tantalizing.

You played your first round and lost. The second and third rounds went the same way. You were terrible at this game.

When you finally admitted you had no money to bet, his expression didn’t change. “Usually, I slap people when they lose,” he said casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “But…” He gestured to your bruised face. “It seems someone’s already beaten me to it.”

The absurdity of the statement caught you off guard, and you let out a startled laugh. “That’s generous of you.”

He smirked. “I do have a heart.”

With no stakes involved, you continued playing. You lost repeatedly, the man’s skill far outstripping your own. He never seemed frustrated, though. If anything, he looked amused by your determination. Eventually, your bruises began to throb, and exhaustion seeped into your bones. You tossed the tile onto the bench, letting out a defeated sigh.

“I give up,” you said, slumping back. “I’m not winning this.”

He tilted his head, considering you. “Pity. You were just starting to improve.”

“Sure,” you muttered, wiping your hands on your jeans. “So, what now?”

He placed the briefcase on the bench between you, opening it to reveal neat stacks of bills. Your breath caught in your throat. It was more money than you’d ever seen in your life, more than enough to pay off your debts and start over.

“You could pay all your debts with this,” he said, his voice soft, almost enticing. His gaze shifted to you, sharp and calculating. “But it’s not free.”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. “What do you mean?”

He closed the briefcase with a decisive snap, leaning in slightly. “I’ll give this to you if you… do something for me.”

Your stomach churned at the way his eyes lingered on you, his meaning crystal clear. Heat flooded your face, a mixture of embarrassment and anger. “What kind of something?” you asked, though you already knew.

His smile didn’t waver. “Let’s not pretend we’re strangers to desperation. You’ve been beaten down by the world, haven’t you? Cast aside, forgotten. This,” he gestured to the briefcase, “could be your ticket out.”

Your fists clenched, your nails digging into your palms. “You think I’m going to sell myself for money?”

He shrugged, unbothered by your indignation. “You’ve already sold your time, your dignity, your safety—haven’t you? What’s the difference?”

The words stung because they weren’t entirely untrue. Still, you shook your head, your pride warring with your desperation. “I’m not doing that.”

He leaned back, crossing his legs with an air of nonchalance. “Your choice, of course. But think about it. How long before your debtors come back? Before the beatings get worse? How long can you keep scraping by?”

The silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. You stared at the briefcase, the money practically taunting you. Your mind raced, weighing the humiliation against the potential freedom.

“I… I can’t,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

He studied you for a long moment, his smile fading slightly. Then, to your surprise, he stood, gathering the game pieces and tucking them back into his briefcase. “Well,” he said, straightening his tie, “it was worth a shot.”

You blinked, caught off guard by how easily he let it go. “That’s it?”

He chuckled, the sound low and almost fond. “I’m not a monster. I made an offer; you declined. Simple as that.”

As he turned to leave, something in you stirred—a mix of relief and regret. “Wait,” you called out, your voice trembling.

He paused, glancing over his shoulder. “Yes?”

You hesitated, the weight of your situation crushing down on you. “Why me?” you asked, desperate to understand why this stranger had singled you out.

His smile returned, enigmatic and unsettling. “Because you’re interesting. And because I see potential in you.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small card and placing it on the bench. “If you ever change your mind, give me a call.”

Before you could respond, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the card. You stared at it, the black lettering stark against the white background.

For a long time, you sat there, the sound of the metro fading into the background. The man’s words echoed in your mind, intertwining with your fear, your pride, and your unrelenting desperation.

And the card remained in your pocket.

—

You stared at the card for what felt like hours that night. The weight of its potential pressed heavily on your chest. In a world where every door seemed to slam in your face, this was the first one to open—albeit under circumstances you couldn’t fully comprehend.

The next day, after another call from a creditor threatening you with more violence, you finally gave in. Your pride was already battered, and your options had all but evaporated. With shaking hands, you picked up your phone and dialed the number on the card.

A smooth, professional voice answered. “Hello?”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. “I… I got this card from someone at the metro. I’d like to… take them up on their offer.”

There was a pause, then the faint sound of fingers tapping on a keyboard. “Ah, yes. We’ve been expecting your call. An address will be sent to your phone shortly. Be there within the hour.”

The line went dead before you could say anything else. Moments later, a text arrived, and you stared at the address. It wasn’t anywhere familiar to you, but the name of the street was in one of the wealthiest areas of the city. Hesitation gripped you again, but the bruises on your face and the weight of your debts pushed you forward.

The cab dropped you off at the gates of a sprawling villa. The sheer size of it was intimidating—tall wrought iron gates, a long driveway lined with meticulously trimmed hedges, and a house that looked more like a palace than a home. You adjusted your jacket, suddenly hyper-aware of how out of place you looked.

Before you could press the buzzer, the gates swung open as if you were expected. You walked up the driveway, each step feeling heavier than the last. When you reached the front door, it opened before you could knock.

A tall man stood there, dressed in a sleek black suit. His expression was blank, professional but cold. “Welcome,” he said, stepping aside to let you in. The foyer was just as luxurious as the exterior—marble floors, chandeliers, and artwork that probably cost more than your entire life’s earnings.

“Next time, a car will pick you up,” the man said, his tone brisk.

“Next time?” you echoed, your voice tinged with disbelief.

Before he could respond, the familiar voice of the salesman cut through the air. “Sorry, he’s—doesn’t matter. Just come on in.” He appeared at the top of a sweeping staircase, his ever-present smile intact. He looked even more polished than before, his posture relaxed.

You hesitated but eventually followed the man into what appeared to be a sitting room. The furniture was sleek and modern, the walls lined with bookshelves and abstract paintings. He gestured for you to sit, but you remained standing, your nerves making it impossible to relax.

“Drink?” he offered, motioning to a decanter of amber liquid on a nearby table.

“No, thank you,” you said quickly, your voice tight.

He tilted his head, his smile softening. “Suit yourself. I see your bruise is healing nicely.”

You instinctively touched your cheek, still tender from the beating. “Can we just… get to the point? What do you want me to do?”

The salesman’s smile widened slightly, and he leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. “Straight to business. I like that.”

He studied you for a moment, his gaze uncomfortably intense. “What I want is very simple. And, let me assure you, the reward will far outweigh the discomfort.”

You shifted uneasily, his words setting off alarm bells in your mind.

His smile took on a sharper edge. “I want you to use that mouth of yours for something other than talking.”

The room seemed to tilt, your stomach dropping like a stone. You stared at him, your mind racing to comprehend what he’d just said. “You’re kidding,” you said, your voice trembling.

“I never kid about business,” he replied smoothly. “You’ve seen the briefcase. You know what’s at stake.”

Your hands balled into fists at your sides. “You want me to—”

“To prove how much you want to change your life,” he interrupted, his tone calm but firm. “To show me that you’re willing to do whatever it takes.”

You took a step back, your legs bumping into the edge of a chair. “This… this is humiliating.”

“Is it?” he asked, his gaze never leaving yours. “You’ve already been beaten and left with nothing. What’s one more compromise?”

His words were like needles, each one poking at the fragile walls of your pride. He stood, closing the distance between you. “I’m offering you freedom,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “All you have to do is take it.”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry as sandpaper. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to leave, to walk out of this villa and never look back. But the image of that briefcase, the promise of a life free from fear and debt, rooted you in place.

“I…” Your voice cracked, the weight of the moment crushing you.

The salesman tilted his head, his smile softening ever so slightly. “Think of it this way,” he said. “This is the last time you’ll ever have to beg, to endure, to scrape by. After this, the world opens up to you.”

He stepped back, giving you space but keeping his piercing gaze locked on you. “But it’s your choice,” he added. “It always has been.”

“I—okay,” you murmured, barely audible.

His smile widened, not in mockery but in something resembling satisfaction. “Atta girl.”

The words hung in the air, and you immediately dropped to your knees, ready to get this over with. But his hand shot out, stopping you mid-motion. His touch was firm but not forceful, his fingers curling gently around your forearm.

“Not so fast,” he said, his tone light, almost teasing. “Let’s get you a bit comfortable first.”

You looked up at him, confusion etched across your face. “Comfortable?” you echoed.

He patted his lap, a small gesture that carried so much weight. “Don’t you want to loosen up a bit?”

“I—” The protest was on the tip of your tongue, but you stopped yourself. He tilted his head, his sharp gaze pinning you in place.

“Come on,” he coaxed, his voice soft but insistent.

After a long moment of hesitation, you stood and awkwardly settled onto his lap. The action felt unnatural, foreign. You perched on his thighs stiffly, your hands clenched in your lap, your body tense like a coiled spring.

He didn’t seem bothered by your discomfort. Instead, he rested his hands lightly on your waist, his touch careful and deliberate. His thumbs began to trace small, lazy patterns into the fabric of your shirt, the motion strangely soothing despite the situation.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said quietly, his voice low and steady. The words were meant to reassure, but they only made your pulse race faster.

You nodded, unable to bring yourself to speak. The air between you was thick with tension, the kind that made your skin prickle. You tried to focus on the patterns he was drawing, on the steady rhythm of his breathing, anything to distract yourself from the heat radiating off his body—or the unmistakable hardness pressing against you.

You froze, your entire body going rigid. He noticed, of course, but he didn’t comment. Instead, his hands stayed where they were, his thumbs continuing their soothing motions.

“You’re thinking too much,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. His breath ghosted over your temple, warm and inviting. “Just breathe.”

Easier said than done. You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. He shifted slightly, and your hands instinctively reached out, grasping his shoulders for balance. The movement brought you closer to him, your faces mere inches apart.

His eyes searched yours, his expression unreadable. Slowly, he leaned in, giving you every opportunity to pull away. When you didn’t, his lips brushed against yours, tentative and soft.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. The kiss was gentle, almost hesitant, as if he were testing the waters. His hands stayed on your waist, their grip light, giving you space to move away if you wanted to.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you sat there, motionless, letting him lead. When he realized you weren’t responding, he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. “Relax,” he murmured, his tone patient.

Tentatively, you leaned forward, your lips meeting his. The kiss was awkward at first, your movements hesitant and unsure. But he didn’t rush you. He let you take the lead, his hands remaining steady on your waist.

As you grew more comfortable, the kiss deepened, your initial hesitation fading away. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his suit jacket, grounding yourself as you tilted your head, pressing closer.

That’s when he took over.

His hands slid up your back, pulling you flush against him as he angled his head, deepening the kiss. The shift was subtle but deliberate, his lips moving against yours with a confidence that left you breathless. His tongue brushed against your bottom lip, a gentle request rather than a demand, and you parted your lips without thinking.

The kiss turned hungry, his movements more assertive but never forceful. His hands roamed cautiously, never straying too far, their warmth seeping through your clothes. Your senses were overwhelmed—the taste of him, the scent of his cologne, the steady strength of his hands.

You didn’t know when it happened, but your tension melted away, replaced by a strange sense of surrender. It wasn’t defeat—it was something else, something you couldn’t quite name. Your hands slid up his chest, your fingers brushing against the collar of his shirt as you leaned into him.

When he finally broke the kiss, you were breathless, your chest rising and falling rapidly. His forehead rested against yours, his hands still on your waist, anchoring you in place.

“See?” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “Not so bad.”

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you simply nodded. The reality of what just happened began to sink in, but before panic could take hold, he shifted again, his hands steadying you as he leaned back slightly.

“Take your time,” he said, his tone soft. “We’re not in a rush.”

You weren’t sure if it was the weight of his gaze, the steady way he held you, or the way his fingers brushed against you as if he knew exactly where your boundaries were but was waiting for you to decide whether they mattered.

He reached up slowly, his movements deliberate, and his hand brushed against your face before moving to your hair. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as he pulled the tie from your hair. Your hair tumbled loose over your shoulders, and he twirled the hair tie around his fingers, his smile never faltering.

“You’ve sucked dick before, right?” he asked, his voice smooth, casual.

Your heart stopped, then resumed at a faster pace. You blinked, your cheeks flushing hot. “I—of course I did!” you replied defensively, the words tumbling out before you could think them through.

He chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “Of course you did,” he murmured, his voice dropping as his gaze lingered on your face. “How could someone resist a pretty face like yours?”

The compliment sent an unexpected jolt through you, but you weren’t given time to process it. He gently took your hands in his, his touch light but firm, and began guiding them behind your back. You stiffened instinctively, your pulse pounding in your ears.

“Relax,” he said, his tone calm and soothing, as though he were coaxing you out of a tense state. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

You hesitated but allowed him to move your arms behind you, his grip steady and unthreatening. The hair tie you hadn’t noticed still in his hand came into view as he looped it around your wrists. The act was careful, the tie snug enough to hold your hands together but not tight enough to hurt.

“There,” he said softly, his fingers brushing against your skin as he adjusted the knot. “Don’t worry, I’ll hold your hair for you.”

You swallowed hard, your breath catching in your throat. He reached up, threading his fingers through your hair with the same slow, deliberate care he’d shown with your hands. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you hated how your body seemed to respond to him against your will.

“See?” he said, his voice low and steady. “No reason to be nervous.”

Nervous was an understatement. Your mind raced, trying to keep up with the situation. Everything about him was a contradiction—his words soft but commanding, his actions careful yet deliberate. It left you off balance, unsure of where you stood or what would happen next.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Down on your knees.”

You blinked, hesitating for a moment as the weight of his words sank in. Your body froze, torn between instinct and the promise of what you came here for. You must have looked as dumbfounded as you felt because his lips curved into that same infuriatingly knowing smile.

But then you remembered the briefcase—you couldn’t afford to hesitate, not now. Steeling yourself, you swallowed hard and did as he said, sinking onto the plush carpet beneath you.

He watched you with a calm, calculating expression, his fingers still lightly twirling the tie binding your wrists. When your knees touched the floor, he adjusted his posture, leaning forward slightly.

“Good girl,” he murmured, the words slipping from his lips in a tone that felt both patronizing and oddly reassuring. His hand left you entirely, moving to undo his belt. The sound of the buckle snapping open echoed faintly in the room, and you bit the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to remain still.

He slid the belt free and dropped it to the side, his gaze never leaving yours. His movements were slow as he unbuttoned his pants and let them pool around his ankles. Then came the boxers, and as he stepped out of them, his confidence radiated like a tangible force.

He looked down at you, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Think you can handle it?” he asked, his voice dripping with challenge.

You scoffed, narrowing your eyes despite the heat rising in your cheeks. “I’ve had bigger,” you shot back.

That earned a low chuckle from him, the sound rich and amused. He crouched slightly, bringing his face closer to yours as his hand reached out, cupping your jaw firmly but gently. His thumb brushed along your chin as he tilted your face upward. “Open up,” he said, his tone soft but leaving no room for argument.

You hesitated for a fraction of a second, your thoughts warring with one another. But then your resolve hardened.

You obeyed, parting your lips just enough to feel vulnerable.

The corners of his mouth quirked upward again, and his hand slid to the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair with practiced ease. “I’ll let you take the lead,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, “at least for now.”

His other hand rested lightly on your shoulder as he guided you closer, his movements careful.

With a deep breath, you adjusted, leaning in more and licking the tip. He groaned softly, the sound low and guttural. His other hand trailed from your shoulder to your neck, his thumb brushing against your pulse point in a way that sent a shiver through you. His cock was heavy on your tongue, and your mind blurred as he thrust himself further and further into your mouth—and you appreciated the slowness with which he did it—until he was fully inside. The rhythm was slow at first. Small bobbing of your head that was just enough to pull soft groans of from his lips.

You pulled back slightly and swirled your tongue around the tip, pleasantly surprising him enough to earn yourself a sharp tug at your hair and a guttural moan that sent a shiver down your spine and a sudden awareness of the need between your legs.

“My… it’s like you were made for this…” he tugged gently on your hair again, signaling for you to pause, you pulled back slightly, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. His thumb brushed against your cheek, his touch light but grounding.

“Good girl,” he said again, his voice softer now, almost approving. He leaned down slightly, his hand cupping your face as he tilted your chin upward. “Messy, though…” he muttered, wiping a bit of drool escaping your open mouth. His hand moved from your chin to your hair again, smoothing the strands back as he studied your face with that same intense gaze.

“Let’s see how far you can go,” he murmured, his tone calm but laced with challenge.

And he fucking shoved you down on his cock.

You froze for a second, overwhelmed by the situation, but his voice cut through the haze.

“Don’t stop now,” he said, his tone still calm but laced with something sharper, something that made your heart race. “You want the money, don’t you?”

Your jaw tightened involuntarily, and he noticed. His smirk deepened as he adjusted his grip in your hair, guiding you with more force than before. It wasn’t painful, but it was clear he wasn’t asking for permission anymore. He was almost guiding your head at this point, fucking into your warm mouth with soft grunts as the hand with a grip on your hair directed you towards him in perfect timing. Your jaw was starting to ache and you could barely notice it with your thoughts suddenly one-track-minded. You were alternating torturously between sucking and lapping at his dick. He pulled out, and then fucked back in roughly, and oh, he knew this would be good—but not this good.

His hand in your hair tightened, and the calm, collected demeanor he had shown earlier began to crack ever so slightly. His breaths were heavier, his eyes darker, and the faint quirk of his lips had transformed into something far less controlled.

His need was pressing against the edges of his control. Your breath hitched as you tried to keep up, the pace leaving you off balance.

You pulled back instinctively, your body reacting to the overwhelming sensation, but his grip on your hair tightened, keeping you in place. “No,” he murmured, his voice low but firm. “Not yet. Breathe through your nose. Come on—work for it.”

The command sent a shiver down your spine, equal parts thrilling and intimidating. You tried to steady your breathing, inhaling deeply through your nose as he’d instructed. Your jaw relaxed as best as it could, though every muscle in your body felt tense.

“That’s it,” he said, his voice breaking slightly at the edges, the first real crack in his composure. His free hand braced against the back of the couch he was sitting on, his knuckles whitening as he gripped it tightly.

You glanced up at him through your lashes, trying to focus despite your racing pulse. His eyes met yours, and for a brief moment, the intensity in them made your breath catch. He was watching you so closely, as if every movement, every reaction, was feeding something deep within him.

“God,” he muttered, his voice hoarse, his head tilting back slightly as his grip in your hair eased momentarily. “You have no idea how good you look like this. Believe me—you could’ve gotten out of your debts a long time ago.” The sounds are indescribable, dirty and wet and so fucking hot as he continues to thrust into your mouth.

“Your throat,” he chokes out. He splays one hand over your throat and starts to fuck up into you at a different angle. “I can fucking see myself in you, fuck—“ There was a rawness to his movements now, a lack of the careful control that had defined him earlier. “Just a little more” he murmured, his voice roughened by something you couldn’t quite place. You could hear his breathing quicken, could feel the faint tremor in his grip as he pulled you closer still. His dominance over the situation was undeniable, but there was a vulnerability in the way his body reacted, a need that felt almost desperate.

When you hesitated again, instinctively pulling back just a fraction to catch your breath, his hand tightened slightly in your hair, holding you in place. “No,” he said sharply “stay fucking still.”

You wanted to punch his face. But you did your best to keep up—still thinking about the money—your breath hitching as he guided you, his need evident in the way he moved.

His groans grew louder, more frequent, and his grip in your hair tightened again as he edged closer to the brink. You could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles tensed and his movements became more erratic. He was losing control, and the realization sent a strange thrill through you.

His orgasm washed over him and his body went still for a moment, his grip in your hair almost bruising as he held you in place. The sound he made was low and guttural, a noise that seemed to reverberate through the room. You froze as he held you there, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

Your throat burned, your body tensing as you fought the instinct to pull away as his fucking cum filled your mouth. He didn’t let you, his hand in your hair keeping you firmly in place as he muttered something under his breath—words you couldn’t quite make out over the pounding in your ears.

When he finally released you, it was abrupt, his hand loosening in your hair as he leaned back, his chest heaving. You gasped for air, your breath coming in shallow, uneven bursts as you tried to steady yourself and then started to cough. Your body felt heavy, your limbs trembling as you sat back on your heels, looking up at him with wide eyes.

He met your gaze, his expression softening as he took in your disheveled appearance. “You did well,” he said, his voice low and rough. His hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face with surprising gentleness. “Better than I expected.” And then he took the hair tie off your hands.

You didn’t respond, still trying to catch your breath as you processed what had just happened. The room felt stifling, the weight of his gaze pressing down on you as you struggled to compose yourself. You just managed to smear his cum on your face.

His smirk returned, though it was softer now. “I knew you had it in you,” he said, his hand trailing down to cup your chin again. His thumb brushed against your jaw, and his smile widened slightly. “But you’ve got to learn to pace yourself.”

You glared at him faintly, though the effect was ruined by the flush in your cheeks and the way your body still trembled. “Maybe you should pace yourself,” you shot back, your voice hoarse.

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Fair enough,” he said, his hand falling away from your face as he leaned back, his posture relaxing for the first time since you’d arrived. He looked down at you for a moment longer before reaching for his discarded boxers, slipping them back on with a casual grace.

“Go clean yourself up,” he said, gesturing toward a door off to the side. “The bathroom’s through there.”

You hesitated for a moment, your body still tense, before nodding and pushing yourself to your feet. Your legs felt unsteady beneath you, and you had to grip the edge of a nearby chair to keep your balance. He watched you with an amused expression, his smirk widening as you stumbled toward the bathroom.

When you closed the door behind you, you leaned against it for a moment, letting out a shaky breath. Your reflection in the mirror caught your eye, and you winced at the sight of your flushed cheeks and disheveled hair. You looked like a mess, and you weren’t sure how you felt about that.

As you splashed water on your face, trying to steady your nerves, you were almost on the verge of crying. It’s disgusting—it’s disgusting that you’re wiping his cum off your face and out of your mouth.

When you finally stepped back into the room, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, his expression unreadable as he watched you. The briefcase was sitting on the nightstand beside him, and he gestured toward it with a lazy wave of his hand.

“Your reward,” he said simply, his smirk returning. “You’ve earned it.”

You hesitated, your gaze flickering between him and the briefcase. “That’s it?” you asked, your voice still hoarse.

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Unless you’re looking for another round,” he said, his tone teasing.

You rolled your eyes, stepping forward to grab the briefcase. The weight of it felt solid in your hands, a tangible reminder of why you’d agreed to this in the first place. “I’ll pass,” you muttered, turning toward the door.

As you reached for the handle, his voice stopped you. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

You glanced back at him, your heart pounding in your chest as you met his gaze. His smirk was still in place, his eyes gleaming with amusement and something darker. You didn’t respond, pulling the door open and stepping out into the hallway.

The air outside felt cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the suffocating heat of the room you’d just left. You took a deep breath, the weight of the briefcase grounding you as you made your way down the hall and out of the villa.

[lightna312]

If at all possible, usually we just tough it out. Even with insurance, healthcare can be expensive. We pop some painkillers, anti-acids, or cold medicine and go about or day. Sometimes we don't even stay home from school or work because we can't afford to do that. If something is serious like breaking a bone or getting a bad cut, yeah people will usually go to the hospital.

That said, I know plenty who avoid going even then. People use sewing skills to give themselves stitches. I broke a finger (on my dominant hand mind you, as an artist and musician) in high school. My mom refused to take me to the doctor because it wasn't worth the cost. I also grew up without insurance, so the debt really just wasn't worth it. Hospitals charge thousands of dollars for really minor things, and the average person can't afford that. Even the act of getting picked up by an ambulance can be ridiculously expensive.

A lot of people either die or get chronic illnesses because they feel like they can't go to the hospital. It took two months of having seizures for me to finally seek medical care because I hoped they would just go away. Speaking for myself, the concept of something being so bad that I'd need to go to the hospital is scary because of how much it all costs.

So yeah, long story short, usually what we do is take some sort of over the counter medicine and pray it doesn't get worse. At least in my experience both personally and with the people I know. I'm sure there are plenty of other reasons.

For the purposes of this poll, do NOT count the following:

Your own birth (unless there were complications/urgent concerns)

Routine check-ups or scheduled-in-advance appointments that just happened to be at a hospital

Visiting or accompanying someone else to the hospital

Use your discretion as to whether to count visits to urgent care.

–

We ask your questions anonymously so you don’t have to! Submissions are open on the 1st and 15th of the month.

[nyankochan]

Pomegranate Seeds

Synopsis: Idia is terrified of you but after you guys accidentally end up in a “compromising” position, he realizes how much he enjoys your touch

Content: Idia x Cerberus!gn!reader, reader is a beast man, sub!idia, oral (male receiving), pre-ejaculation, multiple orgasms, over stimulation, sorry if Idia seems a bit OOC

W/c: 2.5k

Idia is avoiding you as much as possible.

First off: you terrified him. He couldn't figure out why a canine hybrid as yourself wasn't sorted into Savanaclaw like most beastmen but the mirror chose Ignihyde. You may be shorter than he was but you were definitely stronger and faster. And your acute sense of smell made it damn near impossible for him to hide from you.

Second: you were like a hyperactive puppy that required attention all the time. You'd come into his dorm when he was skipping out on his Housewarden duties and dragged him out of the confines of his room to take him on your many adventures. Don't let him try to escape or else you'd hunt him down. And let's not forget how you'd take it upon yourself to crash in his bed when you have a perfectly good room of your own.

Granted, Idia stayed up half the night gaming, but it was annoying finding your hair in his blankets!

Third: you never took the hint to go away! Idia was much too shy to directly tell you to screw off, so whenever he tried to make an excuse, you always managed to find a way to stay around. It's like you were glued to his hip whenever possible and he couldn't stand it.

He felt bad for doing it, but many times he pushed you off to Ortho. His poor brother didn't really understand, but you seemed to enjoy the younger Shroud's presence. You often coddled him cause of how cute he was and since he reminded you of your younger siblings from back home. And you two often played games together, racing to see who was faster, or making a mess baking in the kitchen.

Ortho couldn't quite compute the issue with you. You were sweet and caring. Sure, you could be a bit rough at times with the affection. But overall you were fun to be around. So he couldn't figure out why Idia didn't like you.

"Ortho!" You announce your presence as you kick open the boy's dorm door. Your tail wags excitedly as you proudly show off the object in your hand. "Look! Look! We got pomegranates in botany! They're so sweet and tasty!"

"Ohh! I've never had one before!" Ortho muses.

"You haven't?" You ask as you munch on the soft fruit. The blue haired boy shakes his head.

"I don't think they grow on the Island of Woe. It's pretty secluded."

"Oh? That sucks." You hand one of the extra fruits you took to Ortho. "Here! You can have one of mine." Crewel was less than thrilled when you ran off with a batch of them, refusing to share with anyone else. And when someone tried to take one, you growled at them. Poor Ace almost got his hand bitten off by his greedy upperclassman.

"Thank you!" Ortho then paused. An idea then came to him on how to get his brother to like you. "You know, I think my brother really likes pomegranate. You should give him one."

"He does? Hm, i guess I can share one more." You really didn't want to give away your snacks but for Idia you could make an exception.

"Brother should be in his room," Ortho says with a giggle. "He'll definitely be happy with your gift."

_______

Game over flashed in bright red letters on the screen. Idia groaned in annoyance and threw his controller on to the bed.

"This level is so stupidly hard. Do they not want anyone to beat it?" He had been playing this particular game for hours. A new release in a franchise he enjoyed, but compared to previous versions, this one seemed unnecessarily difficult. Sometimes stupidly so. Idia prided himself on being a bit of a game pro, so being bested by a mere level was irritating him more than he would like to admit.

"One more time. After this, I'm going to look through the online servers for a cheat," Idia told himself, picking up the controller. But before he could restart, his dorm door was kicked open.

"Ids!"

The long haired male pales. His body tenses when you nearly tackle him out of his gaming chair in a hug. "Y-Y/n-ssi-"

"Ids look! We got pomegranates today in class! Crewel let me take extra. Have you ever had one? Ortho said they were your favorite! They're super sweet! Fun fact did you know pomegranate shows up in a myth similar to that of the God of the Underworld?"

You continue to ramble on, obvious to Idia's increasingly flustered expression. The ends of his hair slowly turn bright pink to match his cheeks. You were sitting on his lap.

Idia tried to focus his attention anywhere else. The posters on his wall. His computer screen. Anywhere else to keep his mind off the way you pressed against his crotch while you animatedly talked. And as much as he tried to suppress it, he could feel his pants begin to tighten as an erection formed.

"No no no no this cannot be happening," Idia internally panicked. "I was not expecting to handle a boss of this difficulty. Ah, what do I do!?"

"Hey, Idia," you whine, pouting when you realize he's not paying attention to you. "Are you listening to me? Stop ignoring me."

"S-sorry!" Idia stammers, closing his eyes. You stare at him curiously, tilting your head to the side like a puppy. Your ears twitch. A sweet scent fills your nose that makes your tail wag.

Suddenly, You lean in until you're practically in his face, Idia's pale skin blossoming bright red as he flinches. You press your nose agains the crook of his neck. The sweet smell is coming from him.

"Y-Y/n..." Idia is paralyzed in his place. For some reason, you're on his lap, pressing against his raging boner, all while sniffing him as if he smelled. How was he supposed to proceed? What did one even do in this situation? He was too scared to push you off in case you took offense, but he was going to be even more mortified when you realized he had gotten hard. Sevens he didn't want you to think he was a creep.

"You smell...good," you sigh. "Really good. Like pomegranate." Your senses were going in overdrive. All you could focus on was Idia's scent and taking in more of it.

"Y/n w-wait a minute!" Idia finally finds his voice to speak. You pause and it finally hits you. What you're doing. The position you're in. Your own face blossoms red.

"I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to. You just-" He just smelled so good and you couldn't figure out why. It made your heart race and heat pool between your legs. And the aching desire to taste just to sedate the growing hunger was just as intense.

"Y/n," Idia's voice came out shaky. A borderline moan that he's embarrassed even came out. "p-please s-stop moving." His hands grip your hips. You had been steadily rocking against him. Now his erection pressing uncomfortably against his pants, which you for sure felt.

Your heart hammers against your chest from nervous excitement. This was a good sign right? That meant he felt something too, right? Idia wasn't a beast man, so some of the natural reactions (ears twitching, tail wagging, etc.) that you were accustomed to, he didn't have or do. So it was difficult to gauge interest. But this, this was a common reaction regardless of species.

You press against him harder. In response, Idia lets out a whimper, closing his eyes in embarrassment.

"Idia," you say gently. "C-can I please touch you more."

"H-huh?!"

"Y-you just smell so good. And it's driving me crazy. I'll stop if you're uncomfortable. Please?"

You give him near irresistible puppy dog eyes. Idia swallows back his nerves and gives a slight nod. He could handle this. It was just another boss level to conquer. He could totally handle it-"ahhh s-shit-" Idia's body jerks as your cold fingers feel up his shirt. Your claws tracing his smooth skin.

You press your nose against his chest, inhaling deeply before letting out a shaky breath of content. You continue lower and lower, continuing to feel him up with your fluttering touch until Your hands brush over his crotch. Idia immediately grabs your wrist, hair burning pink.

"I...I..."

You tilt your head. "Do you want me to stop now?"

Idia swallowed. Yes. No. Yes! No!

"Can you go slow?"

You nod. Then scoot from his lap to the floor. Idia gulped, his heart thrumming against his chest in anticipation. He don't know what has come over him. How did things progress his far where he'd have you, settled between his legs just barely underneath his pc, staring up at him with innocent eyes as if your touch hasn't been fucking with him the past ten minutes. Naturally, every gamer probably imagines getting head from their partner under the desk while they play a game, but Idia didn't think it would actually happen to him! No amount of dirty manga and mature video games could have prepared him to react IRL.

"You smell good here too," you sigh constantly, ears twitching. You untie the drawstring of his sweats, pull the waistband down his hips, and reveal his dark blue boxers. There's a large bulge at the crotch, holding up the fabric along with a large wet stain. "Ids?"

Idia could die right there and then. He had already came. Just from you touching him!

"I'm sorry!" Idia covers his face but his hair betrays his flusteredness, a blaze of pink. "I-I didn't mean to. J-just."

You grab his hand, pulling it away from his face. A soft smile spreads across your features. "It's okay. Can I clean you up?"

Not really knowing what you meant, Idia nods nonetheless. You’re careful when you pull back his boxers. Inside's a sticky mess of white. It coats his cock that's long and thick. More pearls from the tip that's a bright red. The cool air making him twitch.

You start at the base near his heavy balls, licking up the side until you reach the top. Idia tenses, shaky moans leaving his blue lips as you continue to work your way up and down his cock. Your tongue feels rough. But he doesn't hate the feeling and tries hard not to buck up into your face. Idia could feel his stomach coiling but he didn't want to come again yet. Not so soon.

"You taste good," you moan. Your thighs press together, heat pooling in between them. And no matter what you do, more beads of pre leak out, leaving more for you to clean up. As you take Idia's cock back into your motive more, he lets out a louder moan this time. His fingers twitch, searching for something to grab on. And ultimately, his hands land on your ears. You're caught off guard by the sudden touch against your sensitive extremities and let out a squeak that catches both you and Idia off guard. And from the way his cock stiffens in your hand, Idia liked the sound of it.

"F-fuck I'm sorry!" Idia quickly apologizes. "I was just-"

"It's okay. It just surprised me," you say, bashfully. "You can touch them. But they're sensitive a bit."

Idia nods. Still with hesitation, he holds on to your hair to ground himself as you take him back into your mouth. His fingers trace the soft fur of your ears, making you moan. The vibrations leave Idia gasping.

"A-ah t-that f-feels good," he whimpers. Your tongue swirls around the tip before you take him deep again. Your cheeks hollowing to suck and slurp against his throbbing cock. When you pull back to do it again, Idia's hips buck up, and suddenly, he's coming down your throat.

"S-sorry!” Idia stammers. “I didn't meant to fuck it felt so good I couldn't help-"

Idia's head throws back as once again his cock hits the back of your throat. His hands tighten in your hair, and he whimpers out your name over and over again until it's the only thing he could event think of.

You're greedy. Trying to suck Idia dry to quell your own desire. You could feel yourself soaking down below, the budding anticipation making your stomach coil. Your grip on his thighs tightens.

"N-no no no wait," Idia begins to panic. He begins trying to push you away, but you don't budge. "Wait wait something isn't right. I-I'm gonna s-shoot again but it's different!"

Tears prickle against his eye lashes. This time the pressure feels too great. His balls constrict and his abs tense. He could feel his cock throb, as something was threatening to come out. And he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold it back. Idia tugs at your hair harder.

"Y/n! Wait stop! I think I-i have to pee! Please! Fuck fuck fuck-" Idia cries out as he comes hard. His body jerks back into the chair, hips bucking up.

Hot, sticky release hits the back of your throat suddenly, and you're not prepared for the amount of cum Idia ejaculates. You pull back, sputtering into a cough. Idia is still coming, his release spraying into your face. He's a moaning mess. There's tears running down his cheeks. The overstimulation leaves him trembling.

You lick your lips and the side of your mouth, cleaning the cum off them. Needless to say you weren't expecting that, but it was so arousing, you almost wanted to see if you could make him do it again.

"Idia, are you okay?" You ask, standing to check on the male. You brush your thumbs across his cheeks to wipe the tears.

"I-I don't know what h-happened. It w-was too much b-but i-it felt so good. I-I'm sorry. I-" Idia babbles.

"It's okay, Idia," you assure, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "As long as you felt good."

Idia nods quickly. "R-really good. But I think I'm out of HP. I can't go again," he says, slumping back into his chair. He was quite frankly in the negatives. Even his cock had finally gone soft, but he still longed for your touch.

You remember then. The pomegranates. You had set them off to the side. Taking one of the fruits, you split it open, juice running down your fingers and you pull out the seeds. "Here," you offer to the blue haired male. "I'll be nice and share. Since it's technically my fault you're exhausted."

Idia stares blankly for a few seconds before taking the pomegranate seeds. They were sweet. And he couldn't help but wonder...His eyes trailed down the span of your body before his cheeks flushed at his dirty thoughts.

As mythology went, taking the pomegranate seeds bound two souls together. Would that mean the same for you two here on out?  You terrified Idia in a lot of ways, but at the same time, he couldn't deny the way your presence was starting to allure him. Just like the sweetness of the pomegranate seed.

[waitforyrlove]

slytherin ! matt doesn’t make it easy.

PART ONE.

the next few days were unbearable. Every time you saw Matt in the corridors, his gaze lingered a moment longer than it should have. You could feel the weight of his unspoken words pressing against you, and your thoughts were consumed by the question: what did he want? What was he going to ask of you?

you spent your time in a constant state of anxiety, trying to focus on schoolwork, but all of it felt like background noise compared to the looming promise you’d made. You couldn’t avoid him forever. You’d agreed to the terms, and now you had to face the consequences—whatever they were.

it wasn’t until Thursday evening that you got your answer.

you were walking towards your common room after dinner, mindlessly heading to your dorm when you bumped into him.

Matt was leaning against the stone wall just outside the hall, arms crossed, his green-and-silver tie hanging loosely around his neck. His eyes flicked over you with a trace of amusement, and you froze in your tracks.

“Fancy running into you here,” he said, his voice low, but there was something in it that sent a chill down your spine.

“What is it, Matt?”

he pushed off the wall and took a step closer, making your pulse spike. “I’ve been thinking about what I want you to do for me.”

your heart skipped, a mix of dread and anticipation swirling in your chest. “And?” you managed to ask, though your voice betrayed you, cracking slightly.

Matt’s eyes glinted, the playful smirk never leaving his lips, “I think I’ve come up with something just right for you.”

you braced yourself, knowing he wouldn’t make this easy, “What is it?”

he studied you for a long moment, as though savoring the tension, before speaking, “I want you to sneak into my dorm again. And this time, I want you to steal something of mine.”

you blinked, stunned by his request. “What?” you whispered, your stomach dropping. You’d expected something more devious, something humiliating—not this.

he chuckled at your reaction. “Relax, it’s not that big a deal. I’m not asking you to steal something important. I want you to grab one of the books on my desk. Something that looks like it could be of value. Take it, get caught, and bring it back here.”

you stared at him in disbelief, “You’re joking aren’t you?”

“Nope,” he replied smoothly, his eyes flashing with mischief, “You’re going to do it for me. The more… chaotic, the better. Just make sure you get caught... I’ll be watching.”

the idea of breaking into his dorm again, of deliberately getting caught, made your skin crawl. But you knew what would happen if you refused. The consequences. The debt you’d agreed to.

“I’ll be waiting here after you’ve done it,” Matt said, as though he were giving you a homework assignment, “If you do this for me, you’ll be square. No more debts.”

you opened your mouth to argue, to protest, but something in the cold certainty of his tone stopped you. He wasn’t playing. And you had no choice.

“Fine,” you muttered, your voice barely audible. “But you owe me after this.”

he grinned, his eyes alight with satisfaction. “Deal.”

the evening arrived far too quickly. You couldn’t stop thinking about what you had to do, but there was no going back now. As the shadows grew long and the castle grew quieter, you found yourself standing in front of the Slytherin common room, heart pounding in your chest. The cold stone walls loomed, the same ones you had crossed once before—too easily, you now realized.

you hesitated, staring at the door. There were a thousand reasons to turn back, but only one reason to go through with it: you had to.

the password whispered to you, and you entered the common room with caution, trying to blend in with the low murmurs of students talking or laughing around you. As before, the greenish light filtered through the lake’s murky water, casting an eerie glow over the room. It was just as you remembered it—a place that felt so unfamiliar to you.

the boys’ dormitory door loomed across the room, and you swallowed the lump in your throat. You knew what you had to do.

you walked as quietly as possible, stepping lightly over the plush carpets, trying to avoid making a sound. The laughter from the upper common room seemed miles away, a muffled sound as you approached the door.

this was it.

you placed your hand on the doorknob, feeling the cool metal beneath your fingers. The room was dim, just as it had been before. You knew Matt’s room well now, every book on his desk, every parchment scattered on the floor, every piece of his life that he’d so carefully arranged.

you crept over to his desk, trying to remain as silent as possible. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, the tension mounting in every breath. But you needed to act fast.

your eyes scanned the desk. There, a thick, worn leather book, sitting innocently on top of a pile of papers. It looked important and you reached for it.

that was when you heard the creak of the floorboards above you.

Matt.

your pulse slammed in your ears as you looked toward the door, your heart lodged in your throat. He’d been waiting for this. And now, you were caught.

before you could react, the door slammed open.

Matt stood in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame, a smirk playing on his lips. “Caught in the act again, are we?”

your heart skipped a beat as his eyes raked over the book in your hands. The look of satisfaction on his face made your stomach twist.

“You were supposed to get caught, remember? and you did got caught, by me.” he said, pushing off the door and stepping inside.

you couldn’t bring yourself to speak. There was no point. You’d done exactly what he’d wanted—exactly what he’d planned.

“I think you’ve learned your lesson, haven’t you?” he asked, his voice low, each word making the air grow thicker between you.

you didn’t dare respond, your eyes stayed fixed on the floor, and the book seemed to grow heavier with each passing second.

Matt took the book from your hands, setting it down on the desk. “Now, about our agreement,” he said, his voice suddenly serious. “You’ve done your part. But I’m not finished with you yet.”

you looked up at him slowly, dreading whatever else he had in mind.

he stepped forward, tilting his head slightly as he stared at you, his eyes sharp. “One more thing before we’re done. There’s always a little bit more, isn’t there?”

you could feel the weight of his words, but you had no idea what kind of game he was playing now.

Matt’s words hung in the air like a storm cloud, his voice dripping with a mix of amusement and something darker. Your chest tightened in response, but you didn’t dare look away. You knew that look in his eyes—he was enjoying every second of this.

“You’ve done your part,” he said, his tone almost lazy as he placed the book back on the desk with slowness. But then his eyes shifted back to you, narrowing slightly, and you felt your breath catch in your throat. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

the words sent a shiver down your spine, your heart hammering in your chest. You could feel the air between you both growing heavier with each passing second. Your legs felt rooted to the spot, and despite every instinct screaming at you to run, you couldn’t seem to make yourself move.

Matt took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. The distance between you shrank, and you could feel the heat of his body so close now that it was almost suffocating.

“You’ve been such a good little accomplice,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, like velvet. “So obedient. I think you deserve a reward..”

you tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. You knew exactly where this was headed, and part of you—the curious, reckless part of you—wanted to see how far he would take this.

“I’ve done what you wanted. Can I go now?” you asked, your voice betraying your uncertainty.

he smirked, the familiar, confident grin spreading across his face as he stepped even closer, until you were forced to tilt your head back to meet his gaze. “You’re not going anywhere just yet.”

his hand brushed your neck, his fingers cool against your warm skin. A gasp escaped your lips before you could stop it. You stiffened, trying to pull away, but he was faster, his other hand gently cupping your chin to keep you in place.

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. “You’re not in control here. Not today.”

your pulse was racing, the words hanging in the air like a challenge. You couldn’t breathe. His thumb traced lightly along the curve of your jaw, making your skin feel electric. The tension between you was palpable, and it took everything in you not to give in to the pull he had on you.

and then, he kissed your neck.

the sensation was electric. Soft at first, his lips barely grazing your skin, but then it deepened, and you could feel the heat of his mouth against you. It sent a shiver down your spine, your body reacting before your mind could catch up. Every nerve in your body seemed to be on fire, and you hated how much you craved the contact.

you fought to push him away, but your body wouldn’t cooperate. It wasn’t even that you didn’t want this—it was that this wasn’t what you wanted. Not like this.

Matt’s lips brushed against your skin again, teasing you, his breath warm and steady against your neck. “You’ve been playing a dangerous game, sweetheart,” he whispered, his lips tracing a path down to the edge of your collarbone. “But I think you like it.”

you closed your eyes, trying to ignore the wetness in your panties, but it was impossible. He made it impossible to think clearly, his presence consuming you. Your pulse was racing, and for a moment, you couldn’t tell if you wanted him to stop or if you wanted him to keep going.

he paused, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. The smirk on his face was almost predatory, and you could feel the weight of his gaze like a physical touch.

“You’re so easy to read,” he muttered, his voice laced with satisfaction. “You say you don’t want this, but I can see it in your eyes. You’re not so different from me, are you?”

he stepped back, the distance between you suddenly cold and empty. He studied you for a moment, as though savoring the tension in the air.

“You’ve got your reward,” he said, his voice now calm and almost detached. “But you can leave. Go back to your precious common room. Get some sleep. But next time… next time, don’t come back here without knowing exactly what you’re walking into.”

you felt a mixture of relief and confusion. Your head was spinning, and your heart still pounded in your chest. What had just happened?

without saying another word, you turned on your heel and hurried out of the room, trying to steady your breath. You could feel Matt’s eyes on your back, watching you leave, but you didn’t dare look back. You couldn’t.

as you made your way back to your Tower, your thoughts were a mess. You had gone from a simple bet to something you didn’t fully understand—and you weren’t sure whether you wanted to know what was next. But the pull of Matt’s presence, his challenge, was far from over. You couldn’t escape him, no matter how hard you tried.

and you weren’t sure you wanted to.

© waitforyrlove. all rights deserved. do not copy my works. or modify my work.

˙ . ꒷ 🪽 notes from author ˙— had really fun making this little two part slytherin matt, please please please, spam about him in inbox and send reqs :)

taglist: @secretlocket @pearlzier @et6rnalsun @mattscoquette @carvedtits @sirenedeslily @mattslolita @flouvela @bella-loveschris @lovingregulusblack @sarosfilms @annsx03 @eliana-4200 @wakeupitschrizz @emely9274 @sturniolossss @sturnioloangell

[lizzybeeee]

I'll add that this games refusal to address what happened in previous games, specifically regarding the mages/templars, made Ivenci's decision to 'betray' Treviso to the Antaam...the only real choice to prevent outright slaughter? Or at the very least an understandable, if bitter, choice to make?

I'm not even going to get into why there was apparently no Exalted March to free Antiva/Rivain since they are nations who follow the Orlesian Chantry - you know, that Chantry that the devs avoid talking about like the plague? The Chantry that would have absolutely declared an Exalted March against the Antaam - like they did to the Qun when they invaded Rivain in the Storm Age???? The double blight that nuked southern thedas hadn't started when this all happened - there absolutely should have been some response!!!

We can compare the situation to Kirkwall in DA2 - which had the stranded Qunari (not even all the Antaam!) fighting the City of Kirkwall - which included the Kirkwall City Guard, the local Templar Order, the Circle of Magi, and Hawke.

Kirkwall had the City Guard, which acted like a militia - having the numbers to patrol all areas of Kirkwall, from Hightown to Lowtown. Also going on patrols on the Wounded Coast and lands on the outskirts of the city itself. We already know that Antiva has no military - they were reliant on the threat of the Antivan Crows to serve as a repellent from invasion. They are skilled, no doubt, but lack the numbers of a proper armed forces - especially when faced with the Antaam.

(I'm going to assume that Antiva has some form of city guard - but the lack of mention/presence implies their numbers are comparatively small to Kirkwall?)

Kirkwall also had the Templar Order - a religious military of highly trained warriors with ample amounts of resources at their disposal. Templars are some of the most highly trained and educated warriors in all of Thedas - as Antiva follows the Orlesian Chantry (despite what this game wants you to believe) if the Order were around they would have access to the abilities granted to them by lyrium. We already know that there is a large chantry in Treviso - but we can't have templars in this game so it's essentially a shiny set-piece for all of two minutes.

Kirkwall also had the Circle of Magi, Mages, who could potentially called to action in the worst case scenario - eg. Orsino and Circle Mages assist during the Arishok's attack in DA2. We know that there is a Circle of Magi in Antiva City from dialogue between Zevran and Wynne. The game has already ruled them out as being a possible aid though - they're either all dead or being confined to the Circle, supposedly.

The mages and templars cannot be referenced in this game, because to reference them would require the writers to address previous decisions in game regarding the mage/templar war at its outcome -> not to mention the current Divine of the Chantry. So, the writers have written themselves into hole - leaving the sole fighting force available to be the Crows against the might of the Antaam.

The Antaam have access to portable fire canons, gaatlock, and qamek from what we see in-game. Who had already proved their willingness to slaughter whoever came into their path if it meant they gained territory - because the Antaam have been reduced to nothing but brutish thugs in this game.

Governor Ivenci - "You know what the Antaam did elsewhere in Antiva. And in every other city they occupied. You and your troupe of fools would have gladly provoked the Antaam to slaughter! I gave them the Crows so that they would not take the rest of the city. I gave them an inch, so they would not take a mile." Antivan Crow Rook - "You're still a traitor who gave up on the fight - and gave up on us. You didn't prevent a slaughter. You just postponed it."

Why are you saying that like it's a bad thing, Rook?! WTF?!!

(One of the most brain-dead fucking responses from a protagonist I've played in a long time lmao)

"You just postponed it". What a wild choice to have Rook criticize this decision. No nuance. No reflection or acknowledgement that they were in a shit situation that had no happy resolution. It's not as if Treviso was on the cusp of victory - there's no evidence of that. There's no guarantee that even if they managed to win Treviso that the Antaam would not simply sent more troops.

All of Antiva - all of Treviso - was in a situation that was far worse than the attack on Kirkwall. Unlike Kirkwall, who had an entire militia of guardsmen and a small army of templars, they had nothing. Because your shitty assassins guild made everyone complacent to the point where Antiva had no standing army -> Ivenci was not wrong about a stronger civil government allowing them to be stronger, rather than solely relying on "a bunch of circus criminals". The writers refusing to talk about the Mages or Templars just makes Ivenci's decision seem all the more reasonable.

And yet I'm still supposed to consider them the villain?

"I did what I did to help this city. To save it. To keep my people from being slaughtered like cattle by the Antaam!" - Governor Ivenci

Ivenci 'doing an Orsino' with the last resort qamek at the end of the game was intended to drive in the fact that they're a 'villain'...apparently. Someone willing to do whatever it takes to come out on top, to survive - to keep Treviso alive another day. The game treats Ivenci as this delusional individual, one so focused on their goal that they've lost sight of what's important.

Ironically, BioWare potentially had a good story and character here - one that challenged the Crows and spat straight facts about how their guild led to complacency. An individual put in an impossible situation because this game refused to give them any other options - no templars, no mages, no exalted march or chantry aid. If the Crows, if Rook, was allowed to be the tiniest bit reflective and have some nuance (acknowledge the Crows are absolute trash, canonically - just like Ivenci), then this could have been compelling. But instead they have them double down on being almost cartoonishly evil with their qamek plan. Because the Crows are the 'good guys' who never gave up on their city, unlike Ivenci...apparently.

Ivenci - "You must be so proud. Leaving this city in the grip of murderers." Rook - "You say you did all this for Treviso, Ivenci. To protect it. But you never really believed in it. Ivenci - "What would you know about the city I love?"

That's right, Rook. Let's get out magic pixie dust and hold hands - let's fucking believe that we can do it. Forgive me for not disagreeing with Ivenci's perspective that putting all our hope/faith in a guild of hired thugs/human traffickers/murderers against the might of an army like the Antaam was a recipe for disaster. I'm sure if Ivenci just believed in the Crows a little more it would be all sunshine and rainbows - the Antaam would have just surrendered lmao.

I'm sure if I had never played a previous Dragon Age game I could possibly agree with this - but unfortunately for BioWare, I have, and it makes this stupidity stand out all the more.

the funniest thing about how badly veilguard fucked up the crows - trying to turn it into some anti-hero, good guy faction that cares so much about antiva - is that as a contrast they had to write governor ivenci to be the most flat, comic villain ever like all of the game's villains cuz we cant have nuance but thats another post to make sure you the player know that Crows Good, Government Bad

but like!! they still had a point!!! you tried to make them sooo unlikeable and yet!!!

bitches hate to see a They/Them call out the guild of literal human trafficking, child abusing murderers that have control over the the country 😞

[shiny-jr]

POOKIE HAVE YOU SEEN THIS?!?!?!?!!

She has the guts to actually post another chapter. This was her end note.

The way she's denying all of this on broad daylight is actually horrible. She's so caught up in her own delusions that she can't discern what's right or wrong.

I'm so sorry you're going through all of this. Rest assured that you have all of our support!

It's shameful of the plagiarizer to continue doing this. To continue acting as if nothing has happened and they did no wrong when we know for a fact that they copied from four writers in total. As mentioned before, four writers which include me, and we believe there is a fifth yet there is no evidence to support that fifth claim.

I find it strange how they immediately jump to defending themself in the public eye, instead of speaking to me directly. Again, if you recall from previous posts, this could have been resolved over two weeks ago should they have just replied to my comment and explained themself. But no, they chose to ignore me, delete evidence of my comment, block me, etc and create more trouble for themself. Their actions of trying to avoid any consequences has resulted in a story deleted from Quotev, two banned Quotev accounts, and three stories deleted from Wattpad.

It's telling that the plagiarizer never once addressed the other stories that were copied and taken down, because they know what they did. They know they were caught. If they copied so many stories, it would be safe to assume that any others and future ones may also be made of stolen work. Especially when I have the evidence to back up my claims. By the way, for those wondering, my quiz was published January 20, 2023, not nine months ago. Check if you don't believe me.

As for the threat of being reported for for "bullying", I truly believe that it isn't possible. Never once did myself or mutuals send degrading and harmful comments, and I always instructed my followers to act in a respectful manner if they did choose to comment. I always specified to never attack the plagiarizer's person or identity, but criticize their actions and decisions, did I not? Besides, I do not need to throw petty remarks or rude insults when the plagiarizer's choices and words say everything that needs to be said.

Just as the plagiarizer refuses to give up, I won't give up too. I will continue to spread the word to other writers, let them know to be wary of this user, Kristynaka1, because they may just steal their work too. I will continue to work against them, because unlike them, I know I did nothing wrong.

So to my readers and followers that have supported me thus far, I must continue asking for your help. Please, do anything that you can to help take this user down. Except insult them, of course. Report anything you find, continue commenting discouragements, report again anything that works against them, reblog this post so others can see it. And of course, feel free to direct message me if you have any questions or any ideas on how to help. My direct messages are open, and I'm here to listen.

[ameliathornromance]

“Really (Y/N), look at this!” Your Siren boyfriend flapped his netted tail, spitting salty seawater into your face, as you worked to try and untie the net from around his fins.

Pausing in your work, you wiped your lips on your sleeve, your boyfriend sighed, cupping his face with his hand. “It’s fine that you all want to eat fish, it’s why we farm them the way we do, but at least pick up after yourselves!”

“Well… that’s why I do what I do,” you mumbled as you returned to unknotting the plastic rope.

If someone had told you a year ago, that you would be working on trying to free a Siren from the confines of an abandoned fishing net, you would have laughed in their face.

It was a ridiculous notion; Sirens weren’t real. Even if they were, it’s not like the charity you worked for would specialise in cleaning them up. Sirens were, by all accounts intelligent and – from your experience – seemed to be very good at not getting trapped by rouge plastic.

The charity only worked on helping animals who’d been caught up in freak oil spills and plastic that had been thrown into the ocean. Usually, you helped seagulls, pollock, mackerel, sea bass, halibut, tuna. You know, the regular creatures you find at sea.

Not giant half-man-half-fish things that got caught up in a net every month.

And it was always at the same time too, every Wednesday afternoon when you were doing your beach garbage patrol-

At that realisation, you stopped trying to undo the net. “Hey.” You said, sharply.

The Siren, who had been picking at the sand underneath his claws froze and looked at you, “yes bubbles…?” His voice trailed in a sing song.

Oh, so he knew he was in trouble. “You know I tell you to avoid these things,” you turned your head around to look at him, eyes narrowing. “You know what they look like, how dangerous they are to you and the rest of the ocean…”

As the edge grew in your voice, your Siren boyfriend seemed to shrink with each inflected syllable. “So why,” you glowered. “In God’s green earth, do you always end up caught in them?!”

If it weren’t for the fact that your boyfriend knew he needed to be set free of this net, he would have sunk back into the ocean below the docks you sat on, and given you his innocent puppy eyes he gave his victims.

He tried it then, big yellow eyes widening.

“Nu-uh, don’t give me that look you know you’re not supposed to be doing this!” You pointed a finger at him accusingly.

Casting a look down at his tail, he sighed. “I know.”

“You know I’ve got other animals to look out for as well right? You can’t be taking up all my time like this.” You sighed, “this is, what, the eighth net I’ve had to free you from?”

“How would I see you then?” The Siren asked.

Words caught in your throat, “w-what?”

Your Siren sighed, giving a slow swish of his tail, “I feel like the only time I ever see you is when you’re working. And even then, I can’t approach you and speak to you, because of the other people you work with.” He frowned, “… this is the only way I feel like I can see you, it’s not like I can call you on that weird metal block you have.”

He made the shape of your phone by shaping his thumbs and index fingers into Ls and joined them together at the tips of his fingers to make a rectangle shape.

Pursing your lips, you thought about what he’d said. Going over the past few months in your head, you understood what he meant.

There had been a huge oil spill a few months ago and the company who was responsible for it was run by a selfish old fart who refused to pay for the clean up, and only did so when the Government forced his hand.

Luckily, the workers who were responsible for the oil spill, had been more than willing to help in their spare time, and worked hard to clean up fish as well as pick up any plastic waste they found.

You had been stuck with training them, as well as trying to clean up reluctant seagulls and any other kinds of animals which had been caught up in the toxic hydrophobic liquid.

Gripping the loose net in your hands, you sighed. “...I’m sorry about that. I hadn’t realised that I’d been spending more time away from you. It’s just because of that oil and the new volunteers-”

Your Siren furrowed the skin above his eyes. “I understand why, bubbles. But, if we could make some kind of agreement to meet up regularly… that might work for the both of us. I could hide out and wait until you came, and you could come whenever you’ve got the time and we can see each other then!”

You smiled at that. “That sounds like a great idea. How about sunset every Friday? It would be nice to be able to see you on the best day of the week.”

The Siren returned your smile, long, pointed teeth in his mouth. “Okay! As long as you can make it every time.”

“I swear I’ll be able to.” You frowned, “why didn’t you just ask me to do that instead of doing this?” You held up the net.

Your Siren’s smile fell. “I… didn’t want to make a difficult decision for you. The ocean is important to the both of us, and I didn’t want to impede on your mission to help it so…”

“Choosing between you and work, will never be a difficult decision.” You told him firmly. “Both are important, but I value our relationship. It’s thanks to you that I’ve been able to pull out so many fishing nets from the ocean.” You held up the net, and your boyfriend gurgled out a laugh.

“I’ll keep bringing you more if I find any.” And with that, he shook his tail. And just like that, the net came loose and he was free.

You stared, shocked.

At your expression, your Siren gave a mischievous grin. “What? It’s not like I could have gotten here with it on my tail now, is it?”

Hi! Thank you so much for reading my story! If you like this kind of content, you should check out my Patreon! There, I post stories twice a week and earlier than I post on Tumblr. I also post exclusive stories there too where you won’t be able to find anywhere else.

If you’re not sure about signing up, I have a 7 day free trial enabled so you can see if you like my work written there!

Taglist <3

@sunndust @greenie-c

[rwbyuser24]

I think that I'm somewhat late. But I'm responding now because I used to be shy in responding. But hey! Better late than never.

I will start saying, well, isn't what the Wiki presents of her, truth?

"Even then, his flaws are folded in to his (alleged) positive traits; he is not afraid, extremely loyal, and has genuinely good intentions, despite the fact that the show has now proven that Ironwood’s flaws greatly outweigh these."

Let's consider that Ironwood have been for most of the part of show a hero. I guess that can influence. That and, isn't it truth what the wiki says about Ironwood? And even when his flaws end up outweighing his good traits, that was at the end of his life.

"These writers love Robyn, and have explored and extrapolated on her character to marvellous degree. Yet, at no singular point have any of these flaws ever been written quite as strongly as the wiki implies they are, nor have I seen much evidence of them myself in the show."

Well, I can think some works of fiction where Robyn shows negative traits. There was a rewrite by The-tired-bisexual-agenda who seems to be queer too. Anyway, the point is that since are fans, they probably are biased too. And about not seeing evidence of those traits in the show... Well, let's see about it!

"Her brashness is blamed for the outcome, but in reality, this outcome could have been avoided together if Clover had not chosen to follow his orders and bring in an innocent man. "

Well, Clover didn't initiate the fight. Clover said peacefully to Qrow that he was under arrest. And even Qrow said that they should wait till they arrive to Atlas to talk with Ironwood. Robyn initiated a fight in the manta. The problem isn't initiate the fight, the problem is the place. Is a closed space flying in the air. What if something end up happening and the ship falls? And even when it wasn't her fault, the fight end up resulting in the liberation of Tyrian. Again, she should have assumed that bad things were a risk. She could have wait till arriving to Atlas to talk to Ironwood or initiate the fight there instead of do that in a dangerous place.

"Also, she didn’t crash the Manta! That was all Tyrian!"

The article didn't say that she crashed the manta, it says that the fight initiated by her lead to that outcome.

"Yet, the people who enjoy her and the Happy Huntresses often perceive those same flaws to a significantly lesser extent, or even see those flaws as actually being boons of her character; for instance, reading her alleged arrogance as passion."

Again, also the fans are biased. About the arrogance, it's for celebrating her victory before time for example. She was so sure of her victory that she made a party, even Weiss and Ren point out how strange that was. There is also her saying: "Looks like he underestimated me. Again."

Like if she was such a great threat.

"I have a suspicion it’s to do with her character at large; she’s a bold socialist politician who believes in equality and fairness for all, who refuses to stand for incompetence and obedience towards evil causes."

Is she a socialist though? I mean, she believes in equality but I doubt she ever declared socialists ideals. I'm not sure either that the CRWBY is socialist, so I doubt that they wanted to present a socialist in such good focus.

"Likely, I’d rephrase a lot of it to be less damaging to her character; she isn’t hostile, she holds people accountable."

Except that she was willing to steal from the military truck even BEFORE losing the elections and Ironwood supposedly trying to kill her: "I think you've misjudged the situation. One way or another, these supplies are going to get where they're supposed to go - Mantle."

And again, initiating a fight in the wrong place.

"She isn’t quick to jump to conflict, she is familiar with how Atlas responds to anti-authority with violence. "

That still doesn't mean that she isn't quick to jump to conflict. And how exactly was Atlas dealing to anti-authority with violence in the past? I mean, Atlas let opposition appear in both Atlas (Jacques) and Mantle (Robyn). All the people that were arrested were people responsible for crimes: Stealing a manta, throwing a brick to a military ship, initiating riots. It just now that Ironwood was arresting people who oppose him.

"She isn’t arrogant, she believes in the power of the people as being the right thing to fight for."

Again, party and overestimating her capacities.

"not a fan of Robyn

not a fan of a new female character

not a fan of a new female character in a position of power

not a fan of a character with socialist/communist/antifa ideals

all of the above and then some???"

I guess that the first one. I mean, assume that someone doesn't like female characters due to the dislike to ONE female character... And again, when it was said that she is socialist/communist? And Antifa... maybe? I mean, Atlas was never fascist.

Well, that would be all!

what is going on with all the bias on robyn hill’s wiki page, anyway? - an aside

As someone who uses the RWBY wiki with some degree of frequency - often because I’m looking for art references, or Semblance and weapon names - I’m used to… some amount of bias in the articles for different characters? Like, let’s be real, it’s not a perfect wiki! Community-maintained stuff isn’t easy to all keep on the same track! But, generally, it gives the facts well enough and doesn’t do too bad a job keeping all the balls in the air when it comes to new information from all four corners of this franchise.

Well, until you open the article for Robyn Hill, and realise it’s an absolute disaster. Like, really; the impartial voice just plain doesn’t exist for her, and almost all of her wiki is written in such a way that she reads as being an absolutely insufferable, hostile, hard-to-like character. Even if you aren’t a fan of Robyn personally, you have to admit that if you hadn’t seen the show yourself, you might very well come away from her article presuming she’s a major antagonist of Volumes 7 and 8.

Like, for instance, let’s take a look at the first paragraph of her Personality section:

Robyn has a direct and confident personality, having no trouble being confrontational with Atlas personnel, including the Ace Operatives. Robyn also seems to suffer from overconfidence and arrogance, shown in her encounters with Ruby and celebrating her election victory before it was verified. She is aggressive and hostile in nature, quickly jumping to conflict without thinking through consequences. However, she is also shown to be reasonable when the situation calls for it.

And, for good measure, here’s another paragraph from the same section:

In “With Friends Like These” Robyn displayed a rather impulsive side of her personality, when upon hearing that James Ironwood’s plan to abandon Mantle and arrest those against him, she started a fight between herself, Clover Ebi, and Qrow Branwen onboard a Manta with Tyrian Callows in custody. Despite the fact, there was no order or her arrest. Her brashness led to Tyrian breaking free and crashing the Manta as well as her becoming unconscious.

(Taken from Robyn’s RWBY Wiki page. Bolding is mine.)

Seguir leyendo

[bunnysdollette]

₊⊹⁀➴ TYPES OF FEMALE FRIENDS TO AVOID ⟡﹒⪩⪨ 🥞

You are who you surround yourself with, and that’s why it’s so important to closely monitor your friendships with certain people, especially going into the new year.

1. ‘messy’ friends ୨୧

drama and gossiping is such a low vibrational activity. you should try to minimize it as much as possible in your life and that also means avoiding friendships that center drama as the main focus that brings you together.

additionally, this is a warning to any other girls who may be in this position. we’ve all been there, so, just know that anyone who only ever talks shit abt other ppl with you that calls you a “friends” can be the same person that turns around and shit talks you behind your back as well.

2. friends that talk down on you constantly ୨୧

There is a difference between someone genuinely talking down on you and someone who rude banters with you, though they are closely related. If you rude banter with your friend often and the things they say about you feel like an attack and emotionally charged, SPEAK UP.

Don’t ever let someone talk down on you like that. Just cause their friend doesn’t mean they can’t have ill intentions, and this kind of activity is a way of subtly belittling you. Please communicate with any friends that actively do this and if they can’t change their behavior, drop them!

3. friends with other genuinely horrible people in their life they refuse to remove ୨୧

Again, YOU ARE WHO YOU SURROUND YOURSELF WITH. If these people constantly choose to keep genuinely terrible people as friends, then what makes you think they aren’t the same as them?

Furthermore, it’s just a massive red flag. I’ve had friends of friends who had racist, homophobic friends etc and they still chose to keep them which led to them being dropped. AS THEY SHOULD BE!! a good person wouldn’t enable that shit, tf.

++TIPS FOR DROPPING FRIENDS

If any of these things here resonate with your group of friends, consider dropping them. As somebody who cut off a friend group of 6 that was all mentally and verbally belittling them and fit all of these, here are some of the possible routes!

You can either 1. Slowly start making yourself unavailable to them until the point of no contact, or 2. Flat out leave.

I know how difficult cutting off a group of friends can be, even when you feel like you have NO one else. But trust me. I went through a year of being basically abused by a group of people I thought were my friends and cut them all off, knowing I would have absolutely no one after that. It causes a deep wound that’s hard to heal, like breaking up with a person it’s hard to get over them and just float through the memories.

But it is SO worth it. For your mental health, for your overall perception of yourself and peace, everything!! CUT THEM OFF!! This is your sign.

[kryptznnn]

♡/♛- Patience [II]

✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡

✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡

➸ INTERESTS; -pro-hero!katsuki bakugo (26) x f!quirk-less reader (23)

➸ BACKGROUND; -During pro-hero 'Dynamite's term within the top 3 heroes of the country, it was made aware by his agency that he needed assistant around. He hadn't appreciated the gesture really, as he hates being followed let alone babysitting, but he wasn't ready for you to enter his life.

➸ WARNINGS; - wc. 3k, romantic tension, intentions of kissing, friendship buildup, romantic buildup, slight age gap, fight mention, affiliation mentions, jealousy, etc.

➸a.i; - emptying out my drafts trust im making a comeback

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡

♡/♛- Patience I

Nine months was a long period of time, however for the two of you it felt as if it passed by too swiftly. Skipping through certain holidays, birthdays, and even sick days with one another it truly never got old. You wouldn't call it best-friends, as this was a professional branch to which things should remain strict, but the two of you definitely had your moments.

At least in your description towards others your boss was your friend. He wasn't just a friend obviously, but he made you feel seen in a way you liked; you were flattered honestly to create a small bond with someone you hadn't known ever before.

Eventually, your relationship with one another began to progress, not enclose but progress. After months the two of you grew understanding and mutual of one another, learning one another’s dislikes and likes. Of course you adapted to things much sooner than he did, now no longer needing a log of his daily antics or acquaintance’s. You were completely sure that whatever you would even tell Katsuki would go in one ear and come out the other.

Or at least that’s what you thought, because in his case that was completely false. If it wasn’t obvious enough his memory was just as sharp as his attitude, and he didn’t have to carry around a little notepad like you had in order to keep tabs on what mattered to him. It might’ve seemed stupid to others and maybe himself, but the more you two interacted with one another the more he wanted to see you smile, or laugh even. Laugh so hard to the point where you’re huddled over clutching your stomach, so he could laugh alongside you.

He wasn’t sure what it was about you or your nature, but whatever it was he liked it and it drew him to you. He had caught himself on numerous occasions going out with friends and going to the store wanting to invite you, to which he immediately brushed off and reminded himself everything between the two of you had to remain strictly professional. It hadn’t stopped the fact that he’d encounter items and objects that reminded him of you, it’s like no matter what you were always with him, and he wasn’t sure whether he liked it or hated it.

Like all things of course it quickly became annoying, he was the type of man to be bothered easily, that was something the two of you were aware of. No matter what he did or how he tried to avoid it things would constantly get out of hand, like how a couple weeks ago he ‘accidentally’ mentioned you to his close high school friend Mina while the group was out drinking and having fun. She immediately jumped on him and asked for more details, to which he explained you were his assistant and did a damn good job.

You were gentle, but harsh, cruel, ruthless, and a badass fighter. No matter how mean you attempted to make yourself you were as soft as can be on the inside. He thought of you as some sort of flower almost, one that refused to bloom for whatever reason. Your beauty on the outside that was wrapped tightly shut hadn’t fazed him, only more interested on what’s inside. He had even described it to Mina in that sense, that he wasn’t even able to see a glimpse of your petals, and it was killing him to just get a look, for you to just let your guard down.

Thankfully for him God must’ve heard his prayers and pleas, because for whatever reason his mother had told him to personally invite you over for dinner on his father’s birthday and you came. Not only did you come, but you offered to help with anything she needed, even if she rejected your first offer. You were so gentle and caring, open almost, and honestly, he never thought you could be more beautiful than you were now.

You acted different with his parents, the entirety of it all he had barely spoken a word, just observed you. Mitsuki wasn’t sure if it was because you were too busy helping her prepare or just oblivious to it, but she could tell exactly what her son felt for you by his looks. It only took on glance over to her husband with a firm nod before looking at their son and smiling to themselves as they set the table and spoke in hushed whispers.

He hadn’t deemed it fair in his case, that he wasn’t the one to bring out that side of you, to let your closed exterior loosen slightly. He hadn't minded it too much honestly, just seeing you outside of a work demeanor made him feel something warm inside. Still unsure if it was something he liked or disliked, all he knew was that he wanted to see you like this all the time.

He was quick to argue and bicker with his parents when they asked questions that seemed to out of character for them. Obviously digging into your personal life to know more about you and how working with their son was, hopefully not too much. You’d laugh at their questions and jokes along the side as the 4 of you ate along together, nothing harmful in the makings of it, just enjoying one another’s company.

If there was any way you’d be better understanding of who you worked for it’s a great idea to have quality time with his family, it couldn’t hurt. All the small and short details Katsuki had mentioned about his parents were honestly scary accurate, he used such little words to express how they were and yet was spot on.

You were quick to put two and two together on how Katsuki seemed much more like an observer than anything else. It wasn’t that surprising honestly, but you had wished he would open up more too you, or at least speak to you more outside of just his daily schedule or texts every once and a while after getting home. You knew your job wasn’t to be best friends with him, but it would be nice to at least enjoy one another’s company instead of walking around or sitting in his office in deafening silence.

Well, not entirely true, the loud air blasting through the square sized ventilation through the ceiling gave you some sort of closure. Beside it you’d play music quit often, only keeping one earbud in incase by any chance Katsuki would call out to you, but it’s never happened. You’d catch him glancing over at you from time to time, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t, or maybe he did know what he wanted to say, he just refused too.

Whatever it was you didn’t like it, it felt like there was a huge hole in the mists of the relationship you were trying so hard to build with him, and you didn’t know why. Maybe you were reading into it too much as you had for everything before, he didn’t seem like someone who cared so much, especially for little things, so why care so badly?

Everything was okay, dinner with his parents was okay, working alongside him throughout early mornings was okay, being an assistant and working on your training was okay, being in his office from time to time on weekends or his days off while he was in the room across during his ‘personalized gym time’ was okay.

Well, better than okay, way better than okay, it was great, perfect even. It somehow gave you small motivation to get your work done even quicker to enjoy the show aside from you.

You weren’t sure if he was able to catch you looking over at him several times or even staring for periods, but it got to a point where you didn’t care. Besides, you were only human, any person who admires the athletic build of a person working out would sit and stare, or at least glance. No matter what was happening you couldn’t help the feeling that things were just too bland, you didn’t want everything to be just ‘okay’ you wanted them to be great or something enjoyable.

You missed how things started off prior when you first began working with Katsuki. The first month you’d get up energized on nothing but your erratic emotions sending you into a frenzy. You were excited to explore more with him, do more with him, now things felt so different and it bothered you highly.

“Same time tomorrow?” You asked without looking up, collecting things from Katsuki’s desk then making your way over to your own, emptying your busy hands into your empty computer bag. You awaited the same response that you had been receiving the past few weeks as you placed your laptop and it’s charger in it’s designated pouch before he spoke.

“Actually I’ve been meaning to talk to ya.” He responded, now taking in your confused reaction as you turned to face him and pausing your actions. He only walked over shortly, leaving plenty of space between the two of you as he dried his hair with a small towel in one hand.

“About what exactly? Did something new come up with the agency or- “

“Actually ‘ts personal” he cut you off, now seizing his movements with his hair before placing the towel over his shoulder. Your cocked brow soon lowered as you took a seat next to your items, now showing him he had your full attention before he continued.

“Okay” you responded softly, placing your hands in your lap and flashing him a soft smile. He looked away at your face for a moment, before turning his back to face you entirely before speaking again.

“Not tryna be in your business.. but have you been busy with someone after work?” He asked, his voice stern as he made his way over to his desk before grabbing a rolled up paper and making his way back over to you. Your brows furrowed harshly as your lips pursed, before you could even part them to defend yourself Katsuki spoke again.

“Cuz in this picture you seem enticed by whoever you’re chatting with.” He says honestly, unrolling the paper and handing it over to you, pointing directly at your face in the picture as he spoke. “One of my publishers was going to post this out for millions to see, got caught by me last minute and I was asked for it to be terminated.” He said, reading your surprised expression as you attempted to piece all of this together.

From the looks of it this picture was of you, from 2 nights ago to be specific, catching up with a friend from university after hours before you had gotten back to your apartment. Stupidly in your case Katsuki had texted you asking if you got home safe and you stupidly lied to him. Where the two of you were was a public setting, so it’s not surprising that someone could’ve seen you two, you just never expected anything like this to happen, especially so suddenly.

The alarming title of the page being ‘Pro-Hero Dynamite’s Assistant; L/n Y/n sneaking around just to get some.’ Making you immediately crumple it up out of frustration and shoving it in your work bag before sucking your teeth and apologizing profusely.

You hadn’t expected for even you to grow a fan base, let alone paparazzi stalking you and your personal life with friends aside. You even explained that to Katsuki, and the titles being a bold accusation, there were thousands of things you’d do, have been trained to do, and sleep with a guy like F/n definitely wasn’t one of them.

“I know, it’s okay I just wanted to run it by ya first, wasn’t worried.” He said, walking back over to his desk and placing the damp towel down on it. He’s such a liar, a good one at that. He was worried, head over heels worried, when he received that text with images from the publisher he nearly fell out of bed.

That fucking smile, he hated it, not you though, just the smile. Over time Katsuki’s been able to differentiate whether or not he actually dislikes people for their being or just their actions and presentation. He knew he didn’t hate you, he just hated what you were doing to him, how you were making him feel.

Polar opposite to your own mornings now however Katsuki woke up determined, getting ready a little faster now. Wondering how you’d style your hair that morning or if you’d wear heavier amounts of makeup than before. If you’d glance over at him while he worked out, purposely taking in an extra fifteen minutes or so just to flex for fun.

The picture surprised him, but the possible title left him even more stunned. He knew you weren’t that type of woman, especially the fact that you had lied about your safety and being home, he was taken aback. In your case he seemed much nicer and understanding than usual, but to him he saw it as letting down his barrier.

Maybe if he could do that you could smile with him as you had before, laugh as loud as he’d like you too. Which is ironic considering the fact he was sure he hated your smile, the way your teeth were aligned well enough to make him wonder if you had gotten braces and retainers in your past. Or maybe you were just bledsoe with them and moved on to nothing but whitening strips, maybe that’s the case.

He found himself to be a little weird when he would just walk around and watch how you’d move hair away from your glossed lips whenever the wind was blowing outside. He was always quick to look away before you could even dream of catching him, but it’s not like you hadn’t felt his eyes on yours.

After working alongside someone everyday for nearly 8 months you grow fond of one another. Although you weren’t too happy with how your relationship seemed slightly distant, his presence was warming at some points. He was willing to speak to you when things were placed on your behave, like your past training and schooling or life before meeting him.

He liked your confidence and radiant energy whenever you did talk about your past, people you’ve fought with, made up with, passed over and grew out of. What he picked up quickly was how you would talk with your hands whenever you were passionate about something, it was physically impossible to keep them down if you were talking.

It’s funny honestly, he wants nothing more than you to express yourself and you want nothing more than for him to do it instead. Yet neither one of you were willing to communicate through the issue without seeming awkward afterwards so just kept everything to yourself. Even now through your small talk and chatter after the newspaper scandal it seemed that wasn’t working.

Within evening realizing it you had been caught up and been lamps an hour behind your original leaving period. You quickly shot up from your seat and fixed your chair before flinging your bag over your shoulder.

“It’s getting late I have to go.” You said sternly, shoving your phone in your pocket before making your way over to the entrance before being abruptly stopped by Katsuki, who only stood in front of you without a word. You took in his state, he smelled good, sweet almost, like some sort of fruit or syrup and you really liked it, especially with how well it mixed in with his fading cologne.

He still hadn’t said anything, just placed a hand on the door beside him as he looked into your eyes. You could feel yourself getting slightly dizzy by deciding which eye to look into, your vision flicking back and forth between the left and right for a period of time before scanning his face. It was almost as if he was pleading with you to stay in some way, or maybe that’s what you wanted him to think, or at least say to you.

You were caught for a short moment staring at his lips before your breath hitched reaching out slowly to place a hand on his broad chest before he leaned in slowly. A short moment between the two of you that had only realistically passed in just a few seconds managed to feel like another hour has passed and it was killing you. You did the only thing you knew to do, look away from him, attempt to distance the tension and suffocation between the two of you.

“Let me.. let me walk you to your car.” He said, now placing his hand on the handle of the door before pulling it open before you. You quickly drew your hand back and looked up at his face once more, now slightly flustered as he looked away and bit the inside of his cheek.

You only agreed and thanked him, leaving the room and heading straight for the elevators as you replayed the moments prior in your head over and over again. You brought your hand up to your mouth for a moment thinking to yourself, then back to Katsuki’s reaction.

That was definitely intentional, and super weird. Things like that haven’t happened to the two of you before, well not as close as it was earlier. The tension was strong but it seemed as if whatever was pushing the two of you towards each other was even stronger.

You sighed as you clutched your bag, the elevator dinging as it reached the lobby floor before you quickly stepped out, nearly bumping into someone on the side who was waiting for it. You were too in your thoughts to even apologize afterwards or look behind you, just digging in your pocket to get your keys.

You hadn’t hated the thought of it, what nearly happened. Truth be told maybe if things did go the way they were hinting towards earlier there was no way the two of you would’ve left the office in such short time. Maybe it’s better to not think of such things, especially such vulgar things, it’s just casual and professional, let’s leave it to that.

While you blew off the steam and marked your way over to your car Katsuki on the other hand was furious. Well furious was a strong word, more like embarrassed, embarrassed he hadn’t taken things farther when he saw how willing you were to kiss him.

Maybe that’s a bad thing, he’s never seen you so vulnerable and willing for something before, especially on his behalf and right in front of him. That wasn’t his prior intention, he didn’t want you to leave just yet, especially after cracking a horrid joke and seeing you laugh, but quickly covering your face with your hovering hand as you chuckled. He didn’t want you to hide from him, he wanted you to be as open as possible.

If a small gesture could show that, or even your intent on nearly kissing him could prove that you were somewhat into what he was feeding you made him nonetheless anxious for more. You were beautiful to say the least, Katsuki was many things, but a liar wasn't one of them. He was honest, if not brutally honest when it came to you and what you were capable of, he just didn't expect one of those things to be reciprocating the same energy he was giving off.

He was so impatient, to the point where it felt as if it was eating him alive. For nearly 9 months he had been attempting to get closer to you, attempting to read you and find out what you favorited without asking. Now when he had you exactly where he wanted, where he needed you, he was the one to bail out and play it off like nothing happened.

Maybe working with one another was going to be way more difficult than you had in mind. Afterall, it was completely evident what the 'large gap' in the two of you's relationship was before it could even begin.

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✴🕷 please do not copy, plagiarize, edit, or translate any works submitted by me. all works are originated and all other pictures used within those works are online images. thank you!! @kryptznnn

[laswells-ashtray]

The years go on, and one day, Nikolai notices that John has a tendency to hold his phone all of three inches from his face. Them he notices how John squints at things if trying to read them from a distance. And how John seems to be more irritable recently, blaming it on a headache every time.

Persuading John to go to an optician is about as easy as trying to do a jigsaw while suspended by chains in a warehouse that's on fire.

"Nik, 'm not that blood old. I'm not going to fucking Specsavers."

It takes some convincing to get him to even entertain the idea, but God help the poor lassie who tells John that he does infact need glasses. Reading glasses specifically.

While reluctant, John picks a pair and grumbles about it the entire way home after they tell him to come back and pick them up in two weeks.

When he picks them up, he hates them. What was wrong with him two weeks ago to pick glasses like these? They're horrific. Nikolai is going to rip the fucking piss when he sees them.

Except he doesn't. When he refuses to wear them, sitting in the armchair at home and trying to read some stupid article on his phone Nikolai is the one who stands behind him and slips his glasses on before he can protest. God, does it make his head feel better.

He catches Nikolai watching him throughout the day, and it's difficult to ignore the disapproving looks whenever he avoids putting on the old man specs.

And then he puts them on voluntarily one day. The strain on his eyes is just too much and he can't bloody read the back of a fucking cereal box.

Nikolai lasts an hour and forty nine minutes before he pounces on John like they were ten years younger and fucks him like they were twenty years younger.

John starts wearing his glasses far more often.

[maethologies]

you already knew this was coming LOL but i’d love to see healer!violet or a hockey au for the ask game if you’re down!!

healer au... hockey au... tough decision but have some healer!vi

a snippet from their first meeting:

He scratches his shoulder, inked in swirls and flames. “Your mother never taught you not to stare? It’s rude.“ 

So he’d noticed her staring at his mark. No use in denying it, then. She should have felt shame, maybe, but her curiosity was stronger. “I’m not a liar,“ she says, before asking something she’s been dying to ask: “Did it hurt?“  

“That,“ he says, leaning into her space, “is none of your business, Healer.“ His voice is deep, tense; a warning. Violet has no doubt he could kill her at any time, and he wouldn’t feel bad about it, either. 

She sighs, letting it go, and looks down at his wound. “Yeah, you’re gonna need stitches,“ she says. “Wait here– I’m going to find someone to do it.“ 

His hand finds her wrist again. “You can’t do it?“ He asks. His hair is a little longer than most riders; it falls over his forehead, over his raised brow. 

Violet snatches her hand back. “I can,“ she says, gathering the bowl of now-pink water and the stained cotton, “but I’m not allowed—first years need a superior’s permission.“ 

The rider groans. “You’re a first year?“ He asks, incredulous. “A newbie. Fucking great.“ 

He sighs and leans back against the wall again, shaking his head. 

“I’m at the top of my year,“ Violet says tersely. She spins around to look for Winifred, but she’s busy tending to someone whose arm is currently more blood than skin. She’ll have to ask someone lower in the chain of command, then. 

“Top of first year,“ he says. Even with her back to him, Violet can practically see the way his mouth twists around the word first. It makes her blood boil. 

“I am still a healer,“ she snaps at him. From the corner of her eye she sees Nick, one of the third-years in charge of supervising the rest of them. She gestures at him. “And I’m damned good at my job.“ 

“You’ve been here for less than three months,“ he points out dryly. “What do you know about doing a good job?“

a scene that takes place a few? weeks later?:

He hums. “You remember, don’t you?” Xaden takes the sandwich, and the shadows vanish, hiding away. “I said I’d keep you alive if you kept healing me. A deal, of sorts.” 

Xaden’s lips twitch once more. Violet’s glad one of them finds humor in this; personally, she’d like not to be threatened with death anymore. She’d gone to the Healer’s Quadrant to avoid exactly this kind of situation, after all. 

He offers her the sandwich. Violet eyes it with disgust. “I’m not eating that,” she says immediately, her lips curling. “And besides, I can’t heal you today.” 

“Oh?” Xaden raises a brow at her. He tilts his head, considering her. “So eager to die, then, Sorrengail?” 

His shadows shiver below him. 

“No,” Violet says, though the words come out of her mouth a little too quickly, a little too urgently. “I just—I can’t. Not today. Go see someone else, or wait until tomorrow.” 

Xaden’s eyes narrow at her. He rocks forward on his feet, bringing his head closer to hers. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong,” Violet huffs. “Go away, now.” 

His expression sharpens, somehow; he’s more alert, the amusement wiped from his face, and his eyes flicker all over her body, taking her in, studying her to try and find whatever’s wrong with her. 

“Tell me,” he says. His voice has become steel, sharp and commanding at once. Violet wonders if this is his Wingleader voice, if the stare he’s currently sending her is the one he uses on first year cadets.

It’s ridiculously effective. She’d opened her mouth to protest, to refuse him, but the look he sends her has Violet saying, “My joints. My hands. They’re—sometimes they hurt.”

Xaden’s eyes drop to her hands. She has to fight the urge to put them behind her back, to hide them from him. 

incomplete scene: a visit in the middle of the night!

“Violence?”

Xaden. Violet’s heart slowly comes back to its normal pace. Xaden, at her door, in the middle of the night.

She’s out of her bed and rushing towards his voice before she even has the time to think about her actions. It’s only when she yanks the door open that Violet remembers the short black nightgown she’s wearing.

Xaden’s eyes sweep over her and down her body, stopping at the sight of her hair, unbound and messy, at the hem of her nightgown; already Violet feels more alert, a wave of heat rising within her.

[...] 

He pauses to look at her. “You were sleeping,” he says, surprise coloring his voice. His brow is furrowed. If Violet didn’t know any better, she’d think he looks pained at that fact.

“That’s how it works, usually,” Violet huffs. “People work or study during the day, and at night, they sleep.” 

Xaden continues to stare at her. Something about him—Violet feels herself getting yanked out of sleep and into reality. Her focus sharpens, and she narrows her eyes at him. 

“You usually stay up to study,” he points out. “And your Anatomy exam is in two days.”

Violet’s heart plummets and soars, all at once. “You remembered?”

It's his turn to huff. "Of course I did," he says, but he crosses his arms and looks away from her as he speaks.

[deleteddewewted]

Supermarket Romance: Cocoa and Painkillers (Christmas Special)

Modern! Demetrian Titus x Gn! Reader

MDNI

W: Ableist Language (From Titus), Friends with feelings, NSFW (Masturbation), Imagine this takes place after the event of chapter 6 (You'll see why), Age gap, Doing Holiday Stuff

If you want to buy me a Ko-fi

Taglist: @kingmagnificolover @garlickedbreads @eliferraris @justeverythingnothingelse @absent-still @laura-naruto-fan1998 @lichkingofangmar @hatsubara-8chan @riokunova @sk-3-tch @futtorliya @missmannequin

The colder months wrecked Titus' body. He didn't particularly enjoy the snow or the rain as it made his joints stiffen and his muscles tighten uncomfortably. Steroid injections were a no-go for him as he was on too many different mediations to allow for the use of them so he had to make do with painkillers. During his service he made sure to rub muscle cream on his body as often as he could, hoping that the cream would help ease the pain in his body, and then take 2 to 3 painkillers to truly numb himself. It made working bearable when based up north in a country that knew only snow and cold weather but when he had the opportunity, he would clamor at the chance to be sent somewhere with nothing but desert and dust storms, at least there he knew his body wouldn't complain.

The cold was not the only thing he disliked either. The holidays, especially Christmas, were hard on him too. He had to make plans to avoid people in his apartment complex or to minimize interactions with coworkers when he had to come into the office. Christmas was a loud affair. He knew that it would mean crowded drive-thru's, crowded streets, and stores. It would mean that his senses would be bombarded with all the lights and decorations that would be put out. He would avoid it as much as possible when deployed but indulged some of his men if they had the time to even set up a tree or make a meal.

Guilliman had called him, asking him if he had already put up his tree, and when he revealed he hadn't, Guilliman sent him his own tree and forced him to decorate it. He did put up lights and some charms but he refused to plug it in so that it lit up. Titus sometimes found himself staring at the unlit tree thinking about how many Christmases he had with his parents and the pile of presents he used to get from Santa Claus. There was a joy in the memory but it began to grow clouded by the ones where he spent them alone in his office filling paperwork detailing brothers who were killed in action. To say that this was his least favorite time of the year was an understatement.

He shook the memory away and instead looked down at his phone. Calgar and he had been texting all day, happy wishes and promises to meet for the New Year's were exchanged. Calgar and he did exchange gifts, even if neither one of them was a big fan of the holiday. His former superior sent him a gift card with a new notebook and pen from a brand he barely knew how to pronounce. It looked expensive and when questioned why he would spend so much money on a book and pen, Calgar responded with, "You're terrible at making notes for yourself but you were always great at documenting." It was a true enough statement but it still made Titus nauseous at the idea of how much money was spent. Titus in exchange got Calgar a bottle of his favorite alcoholic drink and a gift card for a store the man frequented. It wasn't anything big but it did make it so Titus' guilt for being avoidant dissipated. His parents had also sent him gifts but he didn't dare open them. There was usually a letter attached to them and he was scared to see what it said.

He didnt know what to do with the rest of his night. He didn't feel like cooking and the heated pad he had placed on his knee felt too nice to remove. He was planning on ordering takeout but he got a call from you as he was looking at the menu from a restaurant he frequented. He answered your call, wondering why you would be calling him so late, but also because your were calling him instead of texting him.

"Hello?" He asked tentatively.

"Hi, Titus! Merry Christmas!" You greeted him.

"Merry Christmas to you too, Y/n." Your enthusiasm was contagious. A fluttering feeling in his stomach came back and so did a smile that he hadn’t taken notice of.

"I was calling to ask if you felt comfortable with me dropping your gift by your house or if you wanted to meet up some other day so I can give it to you?"

"Gift?" He questioned.

"Yeah, i got you something.”

"That's very considerate of you, but you didn't have to-" He tried explaining himself but you cut him off before he could finish.

"Nonsense. We're friends and everyone deserves a little something for the holidays." You exclaimed.

"I-" he didn’t know what to say. He was actually left without words. It was considerate of you but he hadn’t gotten you anything for the holiday as he didn't know this was something you were planning on doing.

"Oh shit, were you busy? I'm sorry.” You apologized.

"No, not at all. I was just- I'm at home wondering what to do for the day and I was doing nothing of importance." He tried reassuring.

"In that case, we should go to the city's downtown area! There's so much going on over here. They even installed an ice skating rink in the main plaza!"

"Oh, uh... sure. Do you want to meet there?" He asked, his heart started beating faster in his chest at the suggestion of spending time alone with you.

"I'm already here! I'll see you when you get here then!" You bid him goodbye before hanging up.

Titus groaned as he got up from his bed. His leg felt better but he still made sure to put more weight on his uninjured leg. He began getting dressed and put on as many layers of clothes as he could. He wore a thick turtle neck with a coat on top and a scarf around his neck to keep warm. He grabbed his wallet and keys from his coffee table and was about to open his front door before he stopped himself. His cane sat laying by the front door and he contemplated leaving it before just grabbing it and leaving in a hurry.

Ice and snow covered everything, making it a nerve-racking drive to the city center. When he finally reached the location you had sent him and made sure to give himself to decompress and relax in his car. He needed to mentally prepare himself for the assault on his senses as the lights of the gaudy decorated homes and plaza assaulted his senses. He took deep breaths in before he got out of the car. He walked over to the center of the plaza where an ice rink had been erected and spotted you standing by the wall watching the skaters.

"Y/n, it's good to see you." He looked at you from head to toe. You looekd adorable bundled up in later of clothing.

"Titus! Im glad you could make it. Do you want to look around the stalls, do a little bit of window shopping to pass the time before i give you your gift?" You asked.

"Why not give me the gift now?" He jokingly asked, a smile already making its way on his face.

"It'll ruin the magic of it." You teased. You smiled back at him, and grabbed his hand before leading him towards the stalls.

These mini stores had a variety of items. Some of them containing trinkets to fill out space, others having food, and others specialized gifts. Titus and you looked at items, some of them being more interesting than others. You caught him looking at a stall selling knifes and old military memorabilia. He picked up what looked like an old knife with a leather sheath. He inspected it for a moment before putting it down again, looking away from the stall entirely. You waited for him to walk towards the next stall before grabbing the knife and buying it. You placed it in your pocket and followed Titus again.

This continued, eventually, the two of you ended up with Santa hats that he had bought for the both of you. He had handed it over, a slight blush on his face as he admitted he felt a little silly buying the hats but it was in the spirit of the holiday. You grabbed it from him and placed it on your own head before walking over to a stall selling food and placing an order. You paid for the meals as well as hot cocoa for the two of you but Titus' had a sugar substitute. Whip cream decorated the surface of the drink and as you both sipped on them while you waited for the food, you noticed some of the whipped cream made itself home on the tip of Titus's nose.

"You got a little something there." You pointed at your own nose hoping he would understand. Titus's eyes widened a little before he passed the back of his hand against his nose hoping to remove the cream. You watched him struggle to remove a splotch of whipped cream and took matters into your own hands. You took your thumb and removed the remaining cream before smiling up at him, telling him that he missed a spot.

"Oh... thank you." His eyes couldn't meet your own. He was grateful that the Santa har covered his ears as he knew that they were burning red and you would know that he was flustered. Your orders were called out and handed over. You led the way toward a row of benches that the event organizers had set out. You sat across from Titus and started discussing everything you had seen. You did most of the talking as Titus focused on eating his meal, the anxiety of being surrounded by so many people creeping in.

"If you don't mind me asking, why were you so interested in the knife at that one stall?" You asked. You took a bite out of your food as Titus directed his eyes at you, surprise evident on his face.

"The military knife?" He said, covering his mouth as he finished chewing his food.

"Yeah."

"It looked like an old military knife." This was new information to you. He never spoke about his family or he rarely referenced them in passing, "My father had one in his collection when i was growing up. It just looked familiar." This spiked your interest.

"Was he a collector?"

"He still is, though I do not know if to the same extent. He believed preserving items of the sort was useful and taught us something of value." He explained. You must have looked surprised as he let out a chuckle before taking a sip of his drink.

"He sounds like an interesting type." You joked.

"I will have to agree with your statement. He was a Sergeant in the military, devoted to his work, very much a mentor and a leader. He inspired me to enlist." You couldn’t see it but there was a melancholy feeling in his words.

"Oooh, that explains a lot." There was a pregnant pause in the conversation. Neither you or him wanted to continue speaking though you tried to find an opening to start it again.

"Thats how i got my leg injury." He blurts out. You look at him and then at his cane.

"Did he know about the injury? Or..." Your voice trailed off as you redirected your eyes to him. A sadness that wasn’t there finally appeared in his features.

"He knew. My mother knew. A few colleagues and friends as well. They visited when i was recovering." His leg began to bounce under the table, anxiety beginning to creep in as he explained himself.

"I hope you dont mind me asking but, are you not... close to your parents?"

"We had some differences that we couldn't over come. We havent spoken since i was discharged." All of sudden, Titus feels like he’s out of breath. He shoves food into his mouth to try and hide it before speaking again.

"What were the differences?" Titus paused at your question. He looked up at you, ignoring his food a moment to inspect you.

"They wanted me to not re-sign my military contract back when I was 20. They wanted we to quit and go to school instead, settle down. I got offered a 7 year contract, signed it, I eventually ended up staying for over 20 years in service. Became a Captain, felt fullfilled. Then i.." He paused, taking a sip of water before sighing and looking back at you again, "Then i was hurt in an explosion and i was medically discharged. Now my biggest struggle in life is climbing stairs and socializing instead of paperwork." He tried to joke but you could hear the sadness in his words.

"How come you didn't... why not let your friends help you when you knew you needed help?" You didn't want to come off judgemental, but you questioned him anyway. It sounded like he had a support system like there were people, including his parents who wanted to help him but you didn't have the full story.

"I spent my life helping others. I knew I wasn't invisible but I didn't think I would ever become... this." Titus explained. "I didn't know that being crippled would come with all of these new conditions and routines. I thought I would find my end in the heat of war." His tone grew bitter as he spoke. Anger, sadness, resentment evident in his face as he tried to not lethis emotions get ahold of him.

"How did you come to terms with all of this?" You redirected.

"I didn't. I still struggle. I sometimes refuse to use my cane or my leg brace even though I know I need them. I'm stubborn, Y/n." Titus lamented. You looked at him, waiting to see if he would say anything else before reaching out and holding is fisted hand. You looked for his eyes, finally meeting those the pretty blue eyes you couldn't stop thinking about even after you would leave his presence.

"Well, i hope you know that you can reach out to me. No questions asked, you don't even have to explain. I'll be there." You offered, squeezing his hand in the process.

"No questions asked?" Titus questioned.

"None." You reiterated. You both cleared out the bench and began walking over to his car. He offered you a ride but you turned it down in favor of walking, you still thanked him for the offer. You pulled out a box from from your bag, tape keeping the lid closed.

"Merry Christmas, Titus." You handed the gift box over to him, telling him to open it when he got home. He smiled down at the box before thank you.

As he drove away he snuck short glances at the gift box you had given him which was sitting in the passenger seat. The red-striped box had a green ribbon sitting on top of it with a small card reading, ‘From: Y/N, To: Demetrian Titus’ followed by a drawing of a blueberry. He couldn’t stop the smile that grew on his face. A gift from you meant so much and yet he didn’t know what was in it. What could it be? Maybe you had gotten his another leg sleeve. Maybe it was an attachment for his cane. It was big enough to fit large items like a tablet or even folded clothing, so whatever its contents were, they were still a mystery to him.

As he arrived to his apartment he made sure to park carefully before putting on his breaks and turning his engine off. He hesitated for a moment before grabbing the box, irrational thoughts of possible horrors that the box may contain flashed in his mind. He slowly opened the box, prying the tape off one by one before removing the lid to look inside. Decorative paper filled the box but in the very center was not what he was expecting. A small glass object, frame, contained what he couldn’t only say was a true piece of art. One of your drawings laid flat in a glass frame, his likeness captured and placed on paper by your talented hands once again blessed his eyes. There he was, wrinkled and scarred, his face in a joyful expression looked back at him with an addition of yourself including. He assumed you used the pencil to make this as the texture looked grainy and the paper wasn’t thick enough to use paint on. He loved it. It set his heart ablaze and the fluttering in his stomach into override. You captured his likeness and your own in what he could describe as tasteful. You made sure to get all of his facial scarring perfectly, even the smaller scars that have fainted with time were still there. The faint scars of an explosion that pushed shrapnel into the left side of his forehead were there, shaded in lightly to show the raised skin left behind, even the one on his cheek that he got from a bullet that had also took a chunk out of his ear was present in the drawing. His eyes began to water as he analyzed the gift further. You did such a good job at capturing him. He was about to put the drawing back into the box but he noticed something else sitting inside. The knife he had been looking at was there, wrapped in gift paper, almost like you’d hidden it on purpose.

He pressed the back of his head against his seat head cushion. He didn’t know what to do with you. You paid attention to him, to his likes and dislikes. You were considerate when many would simply just ignore him. He grabbed the box with his gifts and took it with him into his home. He placed the box on his kitchen table and made his way to his bathroom to wash up. His clothes came off in layers, all of them now feeling like too much fabric as his shower heated up the room. He cleaned himself, hoping that the fluttering feeling would go away but it didn't. It only grew worse and worse as he showered and eventually stepped out of it. He made it back to his bedroom, boxers intact as he adjusted and readjusted himself in his underwear. Once in the privacy of his own bedroom, Titus began pressing the palm of his hand against his crotch hoping that the friction he was creating was enough to relieve him. It wasn't but he enjoyed the feeling nonetheless.

His soft moans became whimpers, and his hard dick became more than that. Titus couldn't help himself, for the first time in a long time he took off his underwear and started palming at himself. He began to slowly stroke himself, his free hand finding a place on his abdomen as he pleasured himself. It was electric. He couldn't remember the last time he masturbated or felt this much pleasure in the past year. Depression having consumed him made it hard to stay erect but to also find interest in such basic pleasure.

He pumped himself slow at first and picked up speed when he imagined you being the one to stroke him. The thought at first made him jump. He shouldnt think of you in such a way, you in his bed telling him that he's being good and that he deserves this. He bucketed his hips as he thought of you pressing your mouth against he tip of his cock, leaving kisses and licking the head like it wouldn't get a reaction out of him.

He panted into the cool air of his apartment as he seemed his climax at the chant of your name. He repeated it like a prayer almost hoping that it would help get him to cum quicker. With shallow breath he jolted as he felt the once righting knot in his stomach release itself violently as his balls clenched. His cum coated his hand and abdomen as he continued to stroke himself through his orgasm, not stopping until he felt like he had been fully drained and had nothing left to give.

As he laid on his bed panting, his hand still on himself, he said your name one last time before closing his eyes and groaning. No, this wasn’t right. He shouldn’t be doing this to the thought of you, to the sound of your name. How was he going to face you when he’d see you next? How was he going to look at you and carry on a conversation like the image of you praising him and helping him relieve himself hadn’t happened.

Titus breathing was erratic as he thought about what would happen if you found out. Would you abandon him? Think he was disgusting? Would you rescind the offer you had made him about being there if he needed you? Tears began to prick at the corners of his eyes but he was too tired. His orgasm left him feeling like a loose sack of bones that he didn’t have the energy to cry. He instead wiped his hand on is discarded boxers and fell asleep. It could all wait in the morning when he had a clearer head.

[soullessjack]

i’m probably bedridden until monday with my stomach bug so now is a perfect opportunity to start truthing about local-Lebanon-cryptid jack. for starters, i think jack would really fit those spooky Reddit videos on YouTube about strange encounters with people that were so strange it left the person wondering if they’d met something entirely nonhuman.

like, every time he’s spotted in town, he’s doing some relatively normal stuff—“grocery”shopping (if beer and candy bars count as groceries, anyways), hanging out in a diner, etc. nothing he does is out of the ordinary, and again he’s very friendly and approachable, but he’s still just. Off.

he always shows up seemingly out of nowhere, with no car or ride to be seen

he either never has any ID on him, or has ID that changes every time he shows up, with the same face and a different name (one that oddly matches a famous person each time, too).

he always has this underlying nervousness about his demeanor too, like he’s trying not to get caught with something, or like he’s trying to avoid the conversation going to a specific place, but there’s almost never anything that it could be. and then there’s the fact that, when it comes to anything pop-culture-y, or any news about the world, he seems genuinely unaware of everything. he could rattle on about some pretty dated movies he watches “at home” (wherever that is, bc all he says is that it’s ‘outside of town’ ), or the even more dated classic rock records he owns in his room, but he wouldn’t be able to tell you one artist on the radio or anything else like that. he talks about it all like an alien who just discovered what Hollywood is and is very pleased to be learning so much about the planet.

overall he seems too normal, too innocuous, like he’s trying way too hard to put on that appearance and is constantly worried that somewhere, somehow at some point the “illusion” will shatter. what’s decidedly strange, is that for all his lacking in most of the normal world, he seems to know quite a bit about everything else — monsters, the occult, magic, theology, crime cases, even dead languages and cultural rituals. he doesn’t seem like he ever went to school for any of these subjects, but he’s well educated nonetheless. whenever you get the conversation over to any of these topics he loses the awkward, cringy disposition and goes on forever. “how does he know all this?”you’re very likely to ask. “well,” he’ll say, with more of the awkward refrain again, “it’s sort of my family’s business.” but will he indulge on what exactly that business is? no. it’s one of those suspicious conversations you can tell he’s trying to avoid.

In fact, he won’t even really go into detail about who his family is, aside from the fact that it’s comprised of 3 other men all living out of town together, whom he sometimes watches old movies with on Tuesday’s. but the only people you know of that live on the outskirts of Lebanon are those creepy middle-aged guys with the classic black car and shotguns who are also supposedly serial killers. and one of your classmates, max, actually met them all — supposedly her meeting with two of the older guys involved John Wayne Gacy’s ghost trapped in a box, but she absolutely refuses to talk about what happened with this “Jack” guy. her and her girlfriend Stacey. as if that isn’t weird enough, on the occasion that jack happens to cross paths with the two, he supposedly goes out of his way to avoid them, but seems visibly more distraught about it. unfortunately, much like them, he won’t talk about it either.

all in all, ever since this “jack” guy and his “family” popped up outside Lebanon, weirder and weirder shit has kept happening. and not just deja vu weird, like. Horror Movie weird. creature sightings, the dead rising from their graves, whatever else you can think of—and one thing’s for certain. no matter what, that “family” is always at the scene of the crime, jo matter how much they like to keep their distance from the rest of the town.

[anonymouse9172]

He notices them following him around. Part 1. (Yandere! Poly! Twisted Wonderland x Male Reader)

Malleus and Leona: It was one day later in the cafeteria that M/n saw them again. They were together and they kept glancing at M/n and then whispering to each other. It made M/n uncomfortable and wonder if he did something wrong. After 5 minutes of this he decided to take his lunch and leave the cafeteria to go eat with his brother in solitude.

A couple hours later he saw them again starring at him. He was on a walk in the gardens and they definitely following him around. He'd made 5 turns in less then three minutes and they still were behind him. He did not know what to do with the lion beast man and the dragon far following him around.

He decided to go back to Scarabia where they could not follow him finally. While back Scarabia he managed to convince himself he was just going crazy and they were not actually following him. He was disillusioned from that when he left Scarabia for classes though. They were waiting outside his homeroom and then later all of his other classes.

He tried talking to his teachers and brother about it. However they only rolled their eyes and told him it was just Malleus Draconia and Leona Kingscholar, two of the 7 dorm wardens at NRC, and they probably just wanted to talk to him about something due to being new and he should probably just talk to them. M/n felt in his bones though that they were wrong about that and he should not approach either of them ever again.

In the end though he was not given a choice though as he found Leona and Malleus waiting outside the bathroom for him after lunch. No one else was around and M/n immediately felt the urge to flee from them. He pushed the idea away though. "May I help you both?", he says.

The Lion beast man, Leona, snorts. "Sure, herbivore. You can help us by doing what we want.", says Leona. M/n felt his chest tighten in fear.

"What do you want?", says M/n. Leona smirks and Malleus, the dragon fae, smiles. "We want you to go on a date with us.", says Malleus. Terror seizes M/n. He doesn't see any route to escape so he nods. "Perfect. We will pick up from Scarabia Friday at 6 pm, child of man.", says Malleus. Finally the Lion and Dragon walk away from the human.

Kalim and Jamil: It took M/n nearly an entire month to realize he was being followed by Kalim and Jamil. They be waiting outside his room when he woke up and walk him back to his room at night too. His classes were all the same as theirs too. They hardly ever were far from him. Even if he went to bathroom it seemed that one of them followed him.

At first he brushed all of this off as coincidence. It wasn't until one brave soul, a student from Scarabia, actually spoke to him and told him it was kind of creepy how they followed him. Jamil and Kalim quickly scared off the other student from but the seed was already planted in M/n's mind and he suddenly couldn't have unnoticed their weird behavior even if he wanted to do so.

M/n started going out of his way to try and avoid them as much as possible but nothing worked. Kalim and Jamil were stuck to him like glue and scaring off anyone who dared talk to him, even teachers. M/n tried writing home to his parents to ask for help but letters mysteriously disappeared while texts and emails refused to send.

M/n was utterly terrified to leave his room after a week. Then he woke up to them both in his room standing above him. He tensed but managed to squeak out, "He-hey, guys. Can I help you with something?"

Kalim grinned broadly while Jamil narrowed his eyes at M/n. "Hey, man. We just wanted to ask you to go on a date with us.", says Kalim cheerfully but M/n could tell it was a demand rather then an ask. He nodded out of fear of the consequences.

Jamil smiled. "Perfect. We'll be here Friday at 6 pm.", he says. Then Jamil and Kalim left while Kalim chatted away about what they should do with M/n Friday.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

“Eneste” (Angst)

Bayverse!Raphael x reader

A/N: I’ve been wanting to make another songfic for a while now, and I like this song, so I thought; why not? I think it is kinda fun to do it with Danish songs, ngl, hehe. Anyway, hope you’ll enjoy❤️

Song: “Eneste” by Joey Moe.

Danish song with English translation provided.

Warnings: Break up, stick and poke tattoos.

Rødt lys, alt stoppede bare, da du tog dine ting og du tog væk her fra / Åbenlyst, så sårbar, burde starte forfra men det går bare ikke.

(Red light, all just stopped, when you took your things and you went away from here / Obvious, so vulnerable, should start over but it just doesn’t work).

There was no other way about it. No roundabout explanation Raph could give anyone, in some last effort attempt to lessen what was so obvious. Raph had fucked up. He had done the exact thing he promised you he wouldn’t do and broke your heart. He should probably at least try to move on, but he just couldn’t. It just didn’t feel right. Just the thought of moving on felt useless to Raph. It just wouldn’t work. Nothing seemed to work without you in his life.

It was so dumb. Raph could easily had done better, yet he hadn’t. He had done the wrong things, said the wrong things, and now you were gone. It happened so quickly. You were fighting. You were pointing out what Raph had done - the thing he himself knew he had done but just wouldn’t admit. Instead he lied, and when you called him out, he had yelled at you, calling you all sorts of horrible things. He had been caught, and now he was somehow trying to shift the blame onto you. Raph had never done such a thing before, and so you were taken aback when he let all his anger out, aiming it straight at you with punches in the form of words like bullets.

When silence finally fell, Raph finally realized what he had done. But it was too late. It was done. You had already started packing your things, refusing to look him in the eyes or speak to him. Even as Raph clung to you, begging you not to leave, telling you how sorry he was and how wrong it was of him, with tears threatening to fall from his eyes, you ignored him. And as you left Raph’s room in a hurry, before quickly making your way out the lair, not speaking a word to anyone you passed, fearing you would break down, Raph’s world stopped. He just stood there, in his room, staring after you.

Søvnløs, natten er der foroven, ordene ligger på tungen, men jeg kan kun forstumme / Hul i byen, men jeg kan knap nok gå med et hjerte, der er så tungt.

(Sleepless, the night above, the words are laying on the tongue, but I can only remain silent / Hole in the city, but I can hardly walk with heart, that is so heavy).

That had been several days ago now. And though Raph regretted not following you, and not trying a little harder to make you stay, Raph did not try to go for you now. Instead he would stay in his bed at night, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep, thinking of all the things he wanted to tell you. How he would hold you close, and cry to you, and tell you how sorry he was. Finally take responsibility for what he did and what he said, and prove to you that he had learned. That he was willing to become better for you. Yet Raph found himself unmoving in his room at night.

On the nights where Leo managed to pull Raph out of his room and force him out on patrol, Raph did everything in his power to avoid you home. But should Raph somehow find himself forced to be somewhere close to where you lived, he would stare in the direction he knew he would be able to find you. And should Raph somehow be able to see your window, he would hope and pray in silence that you would look out and see him. Hoping that if you saw him, you would call for him, telling him that you forgave him. But you never did. And Raph remained unmoving, staring at your window, unable to walk until all three of his brothers pulled him away, forcing him to turn his back on your window.

Der ku’ være 1 mili, 2 mili, 3 mili, 4 milliarder derude / men jeg bli’r derhjemme til duften af dig på min pude.

(There could be 1 bil, 2 bil, 3 bil, 4 billion out there / but I’m staying at home to the smell of you on my pillow).

At some point Raph’s brothers started asking him if it wasn’t about time that he went out with them. The NYPD was throwing something together at the headquarters, and maybe he could meet someone new there. Maybe Vern could throw a party together for them, and invite some people that Raph would be interested in. Maybe even April and Casey knew someone. As his brothers told him; “there’s plenty of fish out there. There’s probably someone else waiting out there for you”.

But Raph told them off, grunting dismissively at them and telling them to bucker off. Once he even threw a weight after Mikey, who had kept asking for a little too long, not taking the hint. Raph did not want to meet someone else. He didn’t want to find someone other than you. He did go with them to any of the parties or get-togethers they tried to drag him to. Instead he stayed in his room, with his head against the pillow that still smelled a little bit like you.

Så ta' mig med dig, la' mig vis dig, gi' mig lidt af det der gir' mig, sommerfugl og mave kriller, lær' mig lidt om alle de midler / der får hjertet til at banke, som er dagen lang / Jeg ved godt jeg åbnede Pandoras boks og nu er det slut med os / Men du er den eneste, eneste, eneste, eneste for mig.

(So take me with you, let me show you, give me a little of what gives me, butterflies, belly krill, teach me a little about all those remedies / that makes the heart beat, which is all day long / I know I opened Pandora's box and now it’s the end of us / But you are the only, only, only, only one for me).

Raph found himself thinking about you day in and day out, remembering all the good days the two of you had together. How you would give him that beautiful smile, that would cause an explosion of butterflies to erupt within, making him dizzy with happiness. Just having you around would send Raph to cloud nine, his heart beating so hard in his chest, that he was sure everyone around him could hear it. He loved you, and loved all the things your presence did to him.

But all that was gone now. Raph still loved you deeply. He still yearned for you, missing you everyday and every night. He cursed himself every night for what he had done. He caused this. He was the reason why you decided to end things between you. Raph only had himself to blame for causing the only person he had ever loved to leave him. The only person he would ever love. And now you were gone.

Den eneste, eneste, eneste, eneste og jeg tænker på om du mon kommer hjem / og hvis nej, om du så har glemt at / At jeg' den eneste, eneste, eneste, stadigvæk, yeah! / Dit navn der står med blæk for evigt yeah! / Dit navn det står på blæk og det er for evigt, yeah!

(The only, only, only, only one and I’m wondering if you might ever come home / and if not, if you then have forgotten that / That I (am) the only, only only, only one still, yeah! Your name that stands with ink forever yeah! / Your name that stands on ink and it’s forever, yeah!)

For a long time, Raph would pass the entrance to the lair, watching it, hoping that you at any moment would walk in, acting as if nothing was wrong. As if nothing had happened and you and Raph were still happy together. But you never entered the lair like Raph had hoped for. And as time passed on, Raph grew fearful. Had you forgotten him? Had you moved on? Had you forgotten all of your good memories together? Had you found someone else already? Had you decided that Raph was no longer the one for you, while he still found himself stuck on you, firmly believing that you were the one.

Raph found himself looking from the entrance to the ink on his wrist. A small heat at the top left of Raph’s left arm. The same kind of heart one would be able to find on your right wrist. Raph could clearly remember the day you sat with him in his room, having brought a needle for a stick and poke, along with a small bottle of black tattoo ink. That night the two of you had been sitting in Raph’s bed for hours, tattooing each other with the small needle. It was dumb and very stupid. Raph knew that his brothers and Splinter would freak out if they knew. One thing was to let Donnie tattoo him, but Donnie knew what he was doing. Heck, Raph could only imagine how your family would react to you coming home with a tattoo, made by your mysterious boyfriend. But you didn’t care. You were in love, giggling and giving each other many sweet kisses as you tattooed each other.

But now, there were no more giggles and no more kisses. Only silence and longing, along with the aching feeling in Raph’s heart whenever he looked at his wrist, at a permanent memory, missing you by his side.

Stadig for let, men du skredet for længst, og mørke tider har i sinde at forlænge / Der er godt plads i vores dobbeltseng, men jeg fylder den ikk' ud alene.

(Still too easy, but you left long ago, and dark times are intending to prolong / There is plenty of room in our double bed, but I (am) not filling it out alone).

It had now been months since you and Raph broke up. Raph still hasn't mustered up the courage to talk to you, and tell you just how much he missed you. How much he still loved you. How much he wanted you back. But it was simply easier not to do it. Raph really wanted to. He really wanted to jump onto your fire escape, knocking on your window onto you would open it for him, pull you into a long lasting hug, crying all his pains and sorrows to you, and apologizing for everything he had done wrong. But Raph was terrified of what you might say. What hard words you might throw his way. The confirmation that you did in fact, not want to get back to him. It was just so much easier not to talk to you, but instead long and dream for you in the darkness of his room.

Even after several months without you, Raph still hadn’t started taking up the full bed when he was sleeping. He still slept with space next to him, where you used to be. It just felt wrong to sleep there, because what if you one day came back to him…

Der ku være 1 mili, 2 mili, 3 mili, 4 milliarder derude / men jeg bli’r derhjemme til duften af dig på min pude / Så ta' mig med dig, la' mig vis dig, gi' mig lidt af det der gir' mig, sommerfugl og mave kriller, lær' mig lidt om alle de midler / der får hjertet til at banke, som dagen lang / Jeg ved godt jeg åbnede pandoras boks og nu er det slut med os.

(There could be 1 bil, 2 bil, 3 bil, 4 billion out there / but I’m staying at home to the smell of you on my pillow / So take me with you, let me show you, give me a little of what gives me, butterflies, belly krill, teach me a little about all those remedies / that makes the heart beat, which is all day long / I know I opened Pandora's box and now it’s the end of us).

At some point Raph’s brothers got tired of his moodiness and anger, and decided it was time to do something about it. At first they tried to talk to you, but that backfired badly, with you yelling and screaming about how Raph was too afraid to talk to you himself. How he still wouldn’t own up to his mistakes, and then expect that his brothers could fix it for him. But even after they explained to you that Raph did in fact not send them, and that they had come to you on their own, you still weren’t budging. Raph had hurt you, and no matter how long he stayed with his face in the pillows, thinking about you, you weren’t coming back. That led the brothers to their last efforts in an attempt to help Raph move on - bringing dates for him to the lair.

Men du er den eneste, eneste, eneste, eneste for mig / Den eneste, eneste, eneste, eneste og jeg tænker på om du mon kommer hjem / og hvis nej om du så har glemt at / At jeg' den eneste, eneste, eneste, stadigvæk, yeah! Dit navn der står med blæk for evigt yeah!

(But you are the only, only, only, only one for me / The only, only, only, only one and I’m wondering if you might ever come home / and if not, if you then have forgotten that / That I (am) the only, only only, only one still, yeah! / Your name that stands with ink forever yeah!)

They told Raph when they brought someone over. No, instead they would let Raph wander out of his room, to find a nervous stranger, sitting in the lair trying to make small talk with either Leo, Donnie or Mikey, trying not to seem freaked out by the large mutant turtles they had met just moments ago. But to everyone's surprise, expert Raph, he had no interest in any of them, straight up telling them to get out of the lair before he personally would throw them out. There was no way he would let someone else take your place, even if you seemed to have forgotten that you were the one for him. But though Raph feared that you had forgotten, he would certainly never forget that you were the only for him. But would he ever try to do anything about it, or let the heart on his wrist be a permanent reminder, of how he broke your heart and let the love of his life go?

Dit navn det står på blæk og det er for evigt, yeah! / Stadig for let / Stadig for let.

(Your name that stands on ink and it’s forever, yeah! / Still too easy / Still too easy).

Raph’s brothers started to get impatient with him. A year had passed, and Raph was still as heavy and sad as the day you left him. There had been no progress. Raph had not done anything to move on, nor had he done anything to try and talk to you. Instead he just sat there and stared at the tattoo on his wrist, remembering how concentrated you were when you made it.

“You can’t just sit there and done nothing!”, Leo finally snapped at Raph one day, after Raph once again had thrown a potential date out the door. “If you really loved them, then how can you just sit here and do nothing?! How can you just take the easy route and do absolutely nothing?!”

That conversation didn’t go too well, with Raph and Leo yelling back and forth, with Mikey and Donnie holding them back, keeping them from fighting one another. But when all was said and done, and Raph once again found himself in his room, his head against his pillow, staring at his wrist, he knew Leo was right. And you were right as well. Raph had just taken the easy way, hiding from confrontation and the thought of losing all chances with you. But that was simply the easy option… but love wasn’t love always surpassed to be easy? Up until the day you broke up, Raph had felt like it was easy to love you. It had been easy being around you. As easy as lobe should be… right?

That night Raph finally did something he should have done a year ago, and made his way towards you home, with the intention of finally talking to you. Maybe you would take him back, or maybe you wouldn’t. What mattered was that Raph finally quite taking the easy way through this, and finally told you how he still loved you, and how you would forever be the only one for him. What you did with that information was all up to you. Raph would leave that to your decision.