#even if I’m not being directly affected by things I’m still there when things are happening

[theamazingannie]

Kinda crazy how people will call out celebrities for not speaking up on political issues and then a celebrity WILL speak up on that political issue but doesn’t do it in exactly the way these people want so they’ll call THEM out too and it’s like why tf would anyone want to do anything these days if every action they take gets them called out???

[salemsimss]

I need to be up in less than 7 hours, but my anxiety is at an all time high and I feel sick because of it

[thepersonperson]

Why the hell is JJK 270 called Dream's End?

JJK 270 being titled Dream’s End is so fudging ominous. That’s some Umineko type beat. I’m not sure if I should even judge this chapter as presented because of this. In fact, I'm holding off on posting the other analysis I had for today since I no longer am certain of what JJK 268–270 are.

There's two lines of thought I have:

1) Gege suffering from burnout and bad working conditions plus rushing has caused the writing to decline.

2) Gege still has a hidden ace saved for the final chapter and the weird writing is deliberate.

I'm going to humor Option 2, but only because the title of this chapter is called Dream's End.

(The most 'hear me out' discussion under the cut. Using TCB scans and leaks. Click images for captions/citations.)

[Small Update: Follow-up Discussion on why everyone feels OOC.]

Preface

"Without love it cannot be seen."

This is a phrase and philosophy I have borrowed from Umineko since I've started these JJK yapfests. It essentially boils down to 'discard your negative biases and try to examine things in good faith.'

JJK 268 & 269 have fudging tested that for me. I've been giving Gege and the characters a pretty hard time with the caveat of knowing how exploitative the manga industry is. I initially rejected the idea that these chapters were to be taken at anything other than face-value because of this. In fact, I cited the JJK 268 chapter title of Finale as a reason I've accepted things as is.

And with that same logic, I'm now doing the opposite... So hear me out! I've got some pretty good reasons to be doing this.

What's wrong with JJK 268–270?

There's a lot of things in these chapters that are fundamentally inconsistent with what's been established in throughout the manga. If we use Option 1 to explain these contradictions, these are last second retcons because Gege forgor.

Option 2? We're about to have the rug pulled the hell out from under us because the last 3 chapters have been delusions.

What first tipped me off to something possibly being wrong on purpose was the fate of the incarnated culling game players in JJK 270. Not too long ago it was established that the souls of non-sorcerers in vessels were unsavable.

The souls are suppressed in a way that distorts them permanently or their consciousness is outright destroyed. They were gambling on Megumi's survival due to him being a sorcerer and Sukuna's incarnation method being unique. 99% of them will die and those who survive will likely be vegetables, so why is there a sudden gamble on their survival in JJK 270?

It's such a neat and fine bow to tie this mess up that goes directly against existing lore. It's so ideal that it has me suspicious.

Brain damage from sorcery on non-sorcerers has been established as extremely taxing. I think about Gojo's Unlimited Void (UV) the most when it comes to this. Non-sorcerers were hit by it for 0.2 seconds and required medical intervention for 2 months to fully heal from it. Sukuna, the absolute strongest, tanked some of it and it affected him for the rest of the battle. ...And then we have Megumi who was under it for about 6 minutes and seems to have very little problems from it.

This is bizarre. Someone who underwent the month long bath and UV without Reverse Curse Technique (RCT) should be struggling to even stand after waking up. Sukuna had RCT and the Gojo brain damage still took him out. This screams of inconsistent writing unless...this is a deliberate hint that something is amiss.

I want to draw attention to the panel Megumi's UV damage is addressed. Just about everyone has been seemingly waiting around in the same spot for him to wake up. It's a bit weird given that sorcerers don't usually do that. They usually get a move on asap. And after the destruction of Shinjuku and the Culling Game Players still running about, why would they take a breather to discuss their plans that worked?

But that's not what started bothering me about that panel after reading JJK 270. It's that characters who aren't in the room, start appearing without warning. Look who is behind Maki and to the left. It's Kusakabe. And to her and Yuta's right? Inumaki. So why is it that Hakari, Kiara, and Ino are in Kusakabe's place while Todo spawns where Inumaki is? (And Yuta is facing the wrong direction too.)

That's pretty fudging weird right? You can chalk it up to Gege forgor but it doesn't stop there. Higuruma enters the discussion in a way that causes Yuji to pause.

Why is Yuji surprised to see him? (And where the fudge did he come from?) Shouldn't he know of his survival by now? And why is he in a cast? Higuruma had learned RCT and fully restored his arms before leaving the battlefield. If he's conscious, then he should be able to heal himself fully no problems.

And that got me thinking... Why is Yuji still missing his fingers?

It was established that he kept his fingers unhealed to help with Yuta's plan. This means that if he won, he has no need to keep them missing. Yuji has fully regenerated missing chunks of his face, including his eye, and stomach. He has RCT just like Higuruma. But it doesn't end there either. Yuji's number of fingers on his left hand keeps changing.

4 fingers, 3 fingers, dubious amount of fingers, 5 fingers. Once again, you can chalk it up to Gege forgor, but JJK 270 came out and the same problem started happening with Megumi's scars.

The same mistake is made within the same set of panels and very big page. That's weird.

ONCE AGAIN, you can chalk it up to Gege forgor, but when these errors occur, like with Yuta mistakenly having his ring on in JJK 251, Gege will note the mistake outright. Gege has made no such comments for Yuji's fingers or the scars. This many “errors” in row when Gege has otherwise been careful with these features could indicate it really is on purpose. (Kind of like Sukuna's everchanging mask. The thing was just moving around and pulsing. That was deliberate not inconsistency.)

What does this mean?

I think it means what we are seeing isn't reality. After all, the most common way to tell if you're dreaming is being unable to count the number of fingers on your hands. Another way to tell is the distortion of faces.

Readers have noticed that something is wrong. The weird timeskips, the lack of lasting consequences, design inconsistencies, characters behaving like similes of themselves, death and pain being glossed over like it's nothing. It all feels so off. But it's still close enough to the original to be somewhat believable. ...Is that not what it's like to dream and not know you are dreaming?

Why is it that the chapter titled Dream's End ends with the hunt for a curse user whose ability is to distort the perception of reality?

Dreams and Delusions in JJK

We already know Gege weaves Buddhist symbolism and ideas heavily into JJK. I'm not an expert in Buddhism at all, so there's a lot of it that goes over my head. I decided to look into if dreams are significant in Buddhism and boy howdy are they. Quoted directly from the source:

"Dreams can be a message from a Bodhisattva, an ancestor, or a god, The intent of the dream may be to test the dreamer’s resolve: is he non-retreating (avaivartika) from Bodhi (enlightenment) even when sleeping? The purpose of the dream visit may be to communicate information vital to the dreamer’s well-being. The Buddha himself had five dreams of catastrophes, falling stars and worlds in collision just before his enlightenment. The dreams were sent to him not by a benevolent Dharma-protector, but by an malevolent sorcerer, intent on disrupting the Buddha’s samadhi and preventing his awakening."

In summary, (correct me if I'm wrong) dreams appear to be seen as another state of being just as valuable and impermanent as reality.

There's also this other bit I'll quote directly.

"The most common use of dreams in the literature of the Mahayana, or “Northern School” of Buddhism in China, Tibet, Japan, Korea, and Vietnam is to see dreams as a simile for sunyata, (emptiness) the hollow core at the heart of all component dharmas (things). For example, in the well-known Vajra (Diamond) Sutra, the Buddha taught that:

“All conditioned dharmas, are like a dream, like an illusion, like a bubble, like a shadow, like a dewdrop, like a lightening flash; you should contemplate them thus.”"

That's starting to sound like what Yuji's Domain does, right? He projects memories that did happen and mixes them with delusions and dreams. Sukuna and Megumi both experience this in full.

It's incredibly suspicious that it hasn't been named yet. Yuji is the son of Kenjaku who has a domain based on the Womb Sutra/Realm...which is paired with the aforementioned Diamond Realm to encompass the entire Dharma. It's very likely this is what Yuji's domain is—a realm of dreams and reality combined as one.

Unreality Runs in the Family

When Sasaki Setsuko "wakes up" as the Culling Games begin, Kenjaku explains her situation with this:

What follows is a sequence that cannot be described as a dream. It seems to be a blend of reality and hallucinations. But that's not anything strange, Sukuna does it too with Kashimo in reverse.

As you can see, both the positions of the characters and even the backgrounds change suddenly from reality to ??? and from sequence to sequence. It's all incredibly dream like.

Another strange thing about this space is Kenjaku creating it as a part of an escape route Binding Vow. You know, the kind Sukuna uses for Malevolent Shrine.

What I want to draw attention to here is this reality-dream state somewhat requires consent (in the loosest possible definition) to appear. The person entering this state has to desire it themself. We see this with Jogo and Gojo who are mutually interested in having a relationship of somekind with Sukuna. (Same with Kashimo.)

(It's also very hard to tell if they are dead or still in the process of dying during this.)

This is where the delusions Yuji projects differ. They are forced onto others when he is near death or severely injured, seemingly as a defense mechanism.

And would you look at that...the syntax is identical for Todo and Choso's Brother Yuji Delusions. "At that moment, a memory was born inside X's brain...of a past event that never happened." It's kind of like how Yuji replaces Gojo in Megumi's memory to reach him. It's also very strange that Sukuna, Choso, and Jogo go "What is this?" to this in-between space.

My point here is that Yuji having access to this space has been hinted at since the start of this manga and that it was inherited it by blood. (Totally Not Kenjaku showing up with Takaba Mr. Reality Warping CT in JJK 270 supports my case too I think.)

What does this mean for JJK 268–270?

The battle ended in JJK 268. Of that I'm certain. What I no longer know is if anyone survived.

A common complaint about Sukuna's death is his lack of an afterlife scene. Everything ended so abruptly. And then Megumi wakes up.

It's so jarring in out of place. ...But that's how all scenes involving the space between dreams and reality begin. Sasaki Setsuko "wakes up" once and then again. Most of us have experienced those kind of dreams right? (They made a whole movie about it called Inception which is based on the movie Paprika.)

There's one other thing I need to draw attention to. Yuji's Domain shattered after Sukuna cast Domain Expansion (DE).

When a sorcerer withdraws their domain voluntarily, it does not shatter. Gojo has demonstrated this for us in quite clearly.

When a domain is broken by force, it will shatter and shards will scatter. When a domain is withdrawn, no shards are left behind. Yuta uses these facts as a part of his plan. In JJK 252, it's revealed by Kusakabe that Yuta shatters his own domain on purpose to trick Sukuna into thinking he won.

What this means is that some kind of violent action needs to be taken to shatter a domain. Yuji's domain is massive and his attacks only targeted Sukuna. What could've shattered his domain all at once? He's not had the time to practice shattering parts of it like Yuta.

Gojo has shown us what a uniform domain shattering looks like—it happens when Malevolent Shrine activates. (Please note that the sfx used for Sukuna breaking Gojo's domain is カシャア. It's the same one used for Yuji's domain shattering.)

I'm proposing that we've been in unreality since the end of JJK 266. Sukuna and Yuji are both severely injured, on the verge of death, and have a connection with each other. These are all conditions that trigger the space between dreams and reality.

And I must remind you that Yuji first triggers this event with Todo after a severe head injury. Right before Sukuna casts his domain, they do this to each other.

Everything that has come after has been perfect for Yuji to a unbelievable degree. Everyone whose death was uncertain is alive and the living are getting exactly what they wanted. The effort behind it and the logistics are all missing. And yes a rushed ending can explain that, but that too can be part of the ruse.

Another massive complaint is that mourning has not occurred. Not for Gojo or Choso despite how much Yuji cherished them. It's like they're being willfully forgotten by the cast despite being crucial to their success in Shinjuku. It feels out of character, especially since Yuji is of the few that showed concern for them no matter what.

But if this is a delusion on the brink of death designed to bring happiness, why would Yuji think of the dead? He's always been so avoidant with it. When his grandpa is dying and trying to talk about his parents, Yuji tells him to shut up. When Nanami dies, he thinks of him then and then never again directly leading up to his talk with Sukuna. When Megumi tries to discuss Nobara's fate, Yuji ends the conversation as quickly as possible.

The only people in this world are the ones who may or may not be dead. He saw Yuta in Gojo's corpse. The only way that can happen is if Gojo is dead. Yuji has no choice but to believe it. Choso burned away before his eyes. Yuji has no choice but to believe it. He went through some of Megumi's memories and saw Tsumiki's corpse. Yuji has no choice but to believe it.

And since Tsumiki is the only person Yuji wasn't close with, she's the only death that has been outright acknowledged. But not for too long! That would make Megumi sad.

Another complaint is that Sukuna really didn't kill anyone in the final battle outside of those two and Kashimo. The dudebros call it Disney Kaisen. But the fairytale-like idea that everyone is ok? Todo was the one who put that idea in Yuji's head.

And Yuji has always been one to fall to story-like logic when things look like they're finally wrapping up.

"And then everything will be just fine." (Yuji before the worst possible outcome for both him and Megumi happens.)

This is similar to the line Gakuganji uses in JJK 270. "Everything is fine." This line is the whole reason I sat down and wrote this all out without stopping. I know Gakuganji. He'd never say that. This man has been in a state of worry over Jujutsu Society since his first appearance. He doesn't even fully believe in Gojo's cause as someone who values tradition. He's a stickler for details and will do everything in his power to ensure stability. For him to toss Sukuna and Tengen's remains in a shrine and call it a day? Who is that? He's changed but not that much.

And so I compared the raws.

It is very much the same 大丈夫 (Daijoubu). These are Yuji's words.

What I'm proposing is that JJK 267–270 are Yuji's delusions of the happiest possible ending. It's a picture perfect little end where all the trauma and death has no effect on the living and people move on like nothing happened. I don't know if this means he's dead or if Megumi's dead or if they're all dead. But what I'm seeing now? I don't think it's real.

Reexamining JJK 269

CW: Brief discussion of suicide.

Even if this turns out to be a part of the smokescreen, I'm always going to hate JJK 269. But I do want to give it some grace under the assumption this chapter titled Examination (which can also be translated as Reflection) is about Yuji's guilt. Both him and Megumi's tbh. I think their feelings for each other and their situations are driving these delusions. That's one thing about this space that's real—the feelings behind them.

Yuji has a lot of guilt surrounding his existence after ingesting Sukuna, Megumi does too. Straight up Yuji has been seeking death over it since JJK 9.

He struggles to forgive himself for being the centerpiece to violence he had little to no control over. The only thing that upsets him more than that is knowing that his death will break Megumi's heart. He doesn't want Megumi to feel any guilt for it whatsoever.

The kicker is, Megumi already knows Yuji is planning to die. And he wants to do everything to rid him of that guilt. Up until they connect inside of Yuji's domain, they were unaware they shared the same goal for each other.

And that's what JJK 269 is. It's a very cold and harsh breakdown that allows them to forgive themselves. Blame is passed around and ultimately pinned on a combination of Gojo and Kenjaku. (It's really weird Sukuna isn't blamed either, but that's not the point of this for now.)

Kusakabe's comment is especially harsh. Telling Yuji point blank he should've died and that both sides on the issue were valid? He may have believed that to an extent, but he made a point of not telling it to his face. Why have a whole chapter discussing how kind he is only to turn around and do this?

If this is all a delusion, a manifestation of Yuji's guilt and trying to absolve himself of it for Megumi's sake, that makes sense. This version of Kusakabe is what Yuji feels guilt over the most—Everyone's lives being better if he died.

In the same breath Kusakabe tells them to solely blame the adults. It's very reminiscent of Nanami telling Yuji that being a child is not a sin.

It should also be noted that every single time Megumi tries to apologize for being possessed, he's stopped. Maki tears into Yuta without checking in on him, but she asks if Megumi is ok and tells him to not blame himself. JJK 270 is full of this too. He tries to apologize to Tsumiki at her grave and Shoko tells him not to sweat it. He tries to apologize to Hana and she hits on him instead.

This delusion is crafted out of love. It allows Megumi to live in a world where he can move on from the guilt surrounding his possession and saving Yuji. It's all Yuji has ever wanted for him. And now that Yuji knows Megumi wants him to forgive himself, he has no choice but to do that too.

It's a perfect ending for Megumi that's too good to be true.

It must be a dream...

There's another thing I can't reconcile about JJK 269 unless it's a delusion—Todo's explanation for Yuta's plan. It's another one of those glaring contradictions.

In JJK 269 Todo claims Boogie Woogie can't target Maki. But in JJK 259? Todo makes plans with Mei Mei knowing that it works with her.

Either Todo lied...or Yuji never fully knew the plan and that Boogie Woogie could target Maki. Otherwise she would be dead. Her surviving Sukuna's flames would be impossible.

I've already talked about how Yuji believing those who may or may not be dead are alive is Todo's doing. He's always been the one to save Yuji from his breakdowns. But let's talk about his speech in Shibuya.

"Looking for meaning or logic in death...can at times defile the memories of those we've lost!"

Everyone who has read these past 3 chapters has really felt the defiling of Gojo's memory. And it was all in service to a strange logic that helped them cope with all this death. Acknowledging how massive Gojo's sacrifice was would riddle both Yuji and Megumi with immense guilt, so it's best to ignore it for Megumi's sake. (And perhaps that's why Yuji replaces Gojo in that memory.)

"What have you been entrusted with? You don't need to answer right now. However... Until you find your answer, never stop moving."

In a way, JJK 269 is an answer to the question Todo proposed. Yuji was entrusted with saving Megumi. Saving Megumi requires Megumi and Yuji forgiving themselves. And Yuji won't stop moving until it's done. All these time jumps and rushed developments are Yuji moving Megumi forward. He's getting that happy ending even if it's to the detriment of everything else.

What about Sukuna?

When Sukuna respects his opponents and they have a connection, he gives others these dreams before they pass. He's been very impressed by Megumi since JJK 9. It's not out of the ballpark for him to allow Megumi to die satisfied in the way Gojo did. Yuji also seems to understand that Sukuna was manipulated by others just as much as he was. I think that's why Sukuna is spared of the blame for the most part.

I don't think Sukuna won. He's probably dead. But he did warn Yuji not to underestimate him. I think the worst absolute last fudge you to Yuji he could give is this happy ending dream before ripping it all away as he dies.

In Conclusion...

I'm not sure that we're going to get that happy ending. Reggie Star warned us not too long ago.

"...it all comes down to a sorcerer's lies."

Reggie is a lot like Sukuna here, outwitted by modern sorcerers and dying to someone he loathes. Sukuna is good at tricking people. He let Gojo think he won before tearing it all away. Yuta did the exact same thing to him. Or did he?

"Can you do me a favor? After all, you've killed me. Let fate toy with you, become a clown, then die."

If the last 3 chapters are delusions...Megumi will be playing the part of a clown.

Gege said the manga would end with either 1/4 or 3/4 of Yuji, Megumi, Nobara, and Gojo surviving. This of course, could be changed throughout its development, but Gege said the manga is ending in its original vision. There's a real chance that it's only Yuji or Nobara surviving.

Remember, Gege is a troll first and foremost. Somehow Gojo was revived, but in the worst way possible (Yujo). Somehow Gojo did tell Megumi about Toji, but in the worst way possible (dead man's final letter).

Gege also said this about the final chapter:

"I am working hard to create a final chapter that will (hopefully) satisfy as many people as possible who have supported Jujutsu Kaisen. So everyone, please bear with me!"

I can't think of a better way to appease everyone than by making the last 3 chapters nothing more than dream.

[foldingfittedsheets]

A basic human skill that people usually lock down around the age of three or four is impulse control. To conceptualize an action and it’s consequences before taking it. Maybe considering how that action affects other people. We then refine it through most of our childhood.

When I was a teenager my hold on this ability became… tenuous. I became a volatile and dangerous creature.

It’s probably not unique to me, but I had a perfect storm in terms of mental upsets. I had just mastered enough basic social skills, so I finally had a strong group of friends when my dad suddenly needed to move for work. Ripped away from my support network, blooming with hormones, I was dragged to Arizona. I was always a child of forests and mist and suddenly everything was hot, dry, and extremely pointy and aggressive.

Additionally to being abruptly transplanted I found myself an object of affection in a way I’d never been before. Lonely and desperate to make friends the only people who wanted to spend time with me had romantic designs. I just wanted to figure out my shit but I had a baby lesbian flirting with increasing aggression in art, a soft boy making heart eyes at me in biology, a senior nerd asking if I wanted to play Halo at his house and could he hold my hand?

Reader, I snapped. I didn’t want this romantic attention but I also didn’t want to be alone. My brain coped the only way it knew how, by simply cutting out decision making. Any action was the right action to take.

It started with the boy in biology. I’d stolen his pencil out of mischief and to my overwhelming fury instead of trying to steal it back he just softened his eyes and chucked me gently under my chin, a gesture so overtly sweet and romantic that I saw red.

I stabbed him with his own pencil.

I honestly and truly have no memory of it. It happened as fast as a snake striking and I was instantly filled with terrified remorse. Unfortunately that manifested as psychotic giggling.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t- I don’t know why- I’m so sorry!” I said, while hysterically laughing. I ended up having lodged some graphite in his palm and had to tweeze it out with my nails while apologizing furiously. (It’s very important to note here that he forgave me and we’re still friends)

That was weird, I thought. Why didn’t I think before I stabbed someone?

The next event was equally catastrophic, and I had even less reason to do it. In gym with two girls I was tentatively befriending, we were warming up running laps. I started racing one of them. At breakneck speed we were sprinting around the gym.

This time, there was a blip of thought before I fucked up. I should get the other girl! I have no idea why or what the plan was but I turned on a swivel and body checked the other girl. We both fell down in immense pain. I think that’s the moment I broke my tailbone. Her knees were horribly bruised and she looked at me in bewildered pain. “Why did you do that?!”

I had no idea. I apologized and helped her up, both of us hobbling like newborn horses, bruised and hurting.

By this time there’d been enough social upheavals that I was reduced to spending time with some girls I had nothing in common with and low key disliked. Sat at a table listening to this girl talk about how she wanted to be a stripper when she grew up I thought, You’d better put the cap on before you throw it.

I then chucked my empty water bottle directly at her face. It bounced off her forehead with a bop! that would have made a sound mixer weep at its perfection.

All eyes turned to me is startlement. I stared back at her, stunned by my own action, just as confused as everyone else at the table as to why I’d done that. One of the girls to my right said, “Were you trying to hit that fly?”

“Yes!” I lied, “I’m sorry, I thought I could hit the fly!”

Everyone laughed at my antics and I joined in rather than admit I had just chucked something at her for no reason.

Things did start to improve after that. I solidified a friendship with the girl I’d raced (who I developed a massive crush on and ten years later would go on to date). My outbursts turned more whimsical rather than aggressive. Like accosting a girl leaving the cafeteria to look deeply into her eyes and say with great compassion, “It’s going to be alright.”

My new friend and I snuck into the van that delivered our cafeterias baked goods and lay giggling in the back. When I’d impulsively hopped in she’d joined me and made it a game.

After a year in Arizona I broke down crying to my mother, an act of great desperation, and we ended up moving back home. My impulse control returned to normal teenage levels and life resumed in a happier state of mind.

[bueckersgirl]

Intertwined*

Paige Bueckers x Fem reader

Summary: Y/n and Paige have been broken up for a month now, and when a party comes around where they both find themselves at, feelings are revealed and its clear that they both can't seem to forget about each other.

WC: 3.2K

Warnings: 18+, smut, minor angst

(sidenote; im so obsessed with this picture UGH.)

➽───────────────❥

God— Y/n could feel her stare from across the room as she tried to keep up a conversation with her friend, Micheal. It was getting harder and harder to avoid Paige and her intense stares all night but y/n refused to give in because she knew that’s exactly what she wanted- for her to acknowledge her. Y/n wasn’t in the mood to speak to Paige, there was no need to really and she truly only came here to celebrate her friend's birthday then leave. 

It has been a good month since the pair had last spoken to each other, and the image of Paige banging on her front door,  begging for another chance was something permanently scarred in her mind. Y/n didn’t let her in, she refused to, and told Paige to go home and forget about everything they ever had. 

Y/n cared for Paige a lot- she truly really did. A part of her still does whether she wants to or not. Paige just screwed up a lot and no amount of apologies she’d give would make a difference. 

If it wasn’t for Micheals birthday tonight, she’d be at home in her bed instead. But, Michael had been her childhood friend for years and she wasn’t just gonna not come just because Paige was friends with him too. 

“You look stunning tonight, Y/n.” Michael spoke, grabbing her hand and giving it a small peck, causing her to smile sheepishly and mumble a quiet, “Thank you.” 

Y/n took a peek down at her glass, noticing it being basically empty as she chewed on her bottom lip, “I’m gonna go get a refill.” 

She slowly moved away from Micheal, making her way to the kitchen, and she felt her expression drop as she did so. Y/n felt exhausted the entire night keeping up the image that she was happy and acting as though Paige being there didn’t bother her but she didn’t want her to know how badly things were affecting her.

Once she was in the kitchen the music from the living room died down a bit while she searched the fridge for a new bottle of champagne. 

“Ma.”

Her eyes shot open once she heard the voice she hadn't heard in weeks, causing her to suck in a deep breath before she continued to pour her drink into her glass. Y/n was positive there was no way she’d be able to handle a conversation with Paige, especially not tonight. This was not the right time or place to try and work things out. 

“Paige, no.” She told her softly as she took a sip from her glass. 

She kept her eyes down at the kitchen floor, noticing Paige’s figure making her way closer to hers. “We’re not doing this tonight, please.”

“I just wanted to see you.”

“You have been seeing me this entire night, Paige.” She was directly in front of her now. She felt as if she was trapped under her frame and was too tired to push herself off. 

Paige sighed, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Properly see you. Like this. Not just from across the room.”  

“It’s been hard though because of you trying to avoid me all night.” 

“Paige, I don’t want to avoid you. I just don’t want to cause anything on Michael's day.” She sighed, placing a hand onto Paige’s chest to move her out of her way. “Now, if you’ll please excuse me, I can’t stay in the kitchen forever.” 

“So that’s just it, huh? You can’t even look at me anymore?”

Y/n shut her eyes while sucking in a deep breath before turning back around as her eyes made her way up towards Paige’s body, scanning her body, seeing she was dressed in one of her red huskies jerseys with a pair of sweats. Once her eyes finally reached her face the urge to look away grew stronger as Paige’s stare felt more intense and intimate with each second that passed by.

“See? I’m looking right at you, now. Was this what you wanted?  Are you pleased?”

Y/n was quick to notice Paige's expression fall at her words and she watched as she put her hair in a messy ponytail. “No, Y/n I’m not pleased or happy. I haven’t been pleased with anything since that day.”

“Paige, don’t start this.” She shook her head as she indulged in the rest of the champagne left in her glass. “You know I did what was best for the both of us whether you like it or not. Our relationship wasn’t healthy, it was bound to end eventually.” 

Paige scoffed, while her eyes trailed over her. “Bound to end eventually, seriously? Look I know I fucked up a lot. Like a whole lot. I'm not proud of it, I know how badly I hurt you and it pains me everyday when I think about how we ended because I know things could’ve been different if I just stopped fucking up.” 

“I tried playing it cool and shit acting like this hadn’t affected me.” She sighed before walking over and looking down at her, “Seeing you tonight, so beautiful, so gorgeous and talking to Michael and the rest of our friends as if  you moved on so much, it’s been killing me horribly. Because I haven’t moved on, y/n. I haven’t at all.” 

Y/n felt her heart pounding at Paige's words. She wasn’t even sure if what she was saying was the truth but a part of her hoped it was. Y/n hadn’t moved on either even though she’d try convincing herself she did, she knew she hadn’t. 

She opened up her mouth to speak but was quickly interrupted by Michael coming into the kitchen. He stopped before looking at the pair and letting out an awkward laugh. 

“Is everything alright?” He asked, and y/n gave him a small smile in response. “Everything’s okay, Mikes. Just came to get a refill and ran into Paige so we catched up a bit. I was actually just leaving to go find you.”

“It was nice talking to you, Paige.” Y/n whispered as she slipped her way past her, feeling Paige’s fingers lightly brush against her shoulder.

She hated how badly her body got goosebumps just from feeling her touch again. 

————————————

It had been two weeks since the party and Paige still lived in y/n’s mind. It was hard enough trying to forget about her but not only seeing her but speaking to her as well made y/n’s mind wander more than usual. 

Y/n had been laying down on her couch the last few hours binging a few movies while eating some snacks. She was slowly beginning to fall asleep but a knock to her door woke her up. 

Rubbing her eyes she made her way towards the door and took a peek through her doorbell. 

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Sighing she undid all the locks before opening it. Her breath was quickly stolen from her seeing Paige standing there with a cupcake and a mini bouquet of white roses in her hand, and she could sense the desperation radiating off her.

“I got these for you—I remember how much you loved the cakes from Sweet Mary’s.” Paige mumbled, before handing them over to her. “I’m sorry for just randomly showing up over here. I just had to speak to you.” 

She took them from her and whispered a soft, “Thank you” before moving out of the doorway. “Please, come in.”

Y/n wasn't sure why she didn’t just tell Paige to go home again instead of letting her in. She’d never admit it, but a part of her missed her company. She just hoped that this didn’t end badly. 

Paige stepped inside, taking off her slides and leaving them by the door as Y/n made her way towards her vessel in the kitchen to place the flowers in. “Are you thirsty? I can make some coffee or tea if you’d like. I also have a bit of wine if you’d prefer that instead.”

“No–no, I’m okay. Thank you, y/n.” Paige spoke, before following y/n to her living room where they sat on opposite sides of the couch. “Thank you, also for uh–letting me in this late.” 

Y/n watched as Paige swallowed thickly and turned to her, “I’ve been missing you so badly, Y/n, you truly have no idea. I’m sure at the party it was obvious enough but  I don’t want to play the victim, and make excuses for what I did because that’s stupid. I’m so, so, so sorry, y/n, for everything. For hurting you, for not changing, for letting my career get in the way of us, and making you feel unseen. After I gave myself these two weeks to properly think, it was clear that I need you back in my life. I’m a mess without you, ma. I truly don’t want to keep handling everything without you by my side anymore.” 

Y/n sat quiet for a few seconds not sure how to properly express what she wanted to say. She could tell Paige was miserable and she didn’t want to say the wrong thing. 

“Look.” she began, noticing how Paige dropped her head into her hands, before giving her the chance to finish and letting out shaky breaths. “I know from the outside looking in on things you’ve assumed I’ve been handling things fine. I can tell based on what you said to me at Michaels birthday. But I actually haven’t been dealing with this that well either. I’ve missed you as well, you’re all my mind has been thinking about the past month. And no matter how hard I try to deny my feelings– I really miss you.” 

Paige slowly lifted her head back up as a large grin took over her face, “Can I scoot closer to you, please?” she asked, and y/n was quick to nod in response. 

“God– you have no idea how badly I’ve missed sharing the same space as you. Just getting the chance to be this close to you is so fucking rewarding.” she spoke as she ran her fingers through y/n’s hair while she laid on her lap. Paige’s hand came up to her cheek, it was clear at first she was hesitant but she eventually stroked y/n’s cheek gently and let out a relieving sigh. “I’ve missed touching you.” 

Y/n turned her head and kissed the palm of Paige’s hand. “I’ve missed touching you too.” she spoke, before lifting her head up and running her nose against Paige’s jaw. “Please don’t hurt me again.” 

Paige wrapped her arms around her waist tightly and whispered softly into her ear, “I promise, I’ll never hurt you again my sweet girl.” Before Paige got the chance to say any more, y/n was quick to lean in and press her lips against hers, molding them together as she held onto Paige’s shirt tightly. Paige took the opportunity to roam her hand down y/n’s body again just like she did before. Finally getting the chance to feel her bare skin against hers was something she’d been craving for what felt like years. Her hand slid under y/n’s shirt and cupped her bare breast with her hand, earning a light moan from her against her lips. Her other hand slipped into her shorts, but was quickly taken aback when her hand was met with y/n’s bare ass cheek–instead of the cloth of her panties. 

She pulled back from the kiss and looked at y/n with furrowed brows. “You aren’t wearing underwear?” 

Y/n’s cheeks flushed pink as she shook her head in response and licked on her bottom lip. “I uh–take them off before I go to sleep now. It’s something I’ve been doing recently.” 

She watched as Paige’s pupils dilated, and soon both of her hands were now cupping her ass as she lifted them up from the couch and walked towards her room. “I forget how strong you are sometimes.” y/n muttered, causing Paige to chuckle before dropping her gently onto her twin-sized bed. “That seems like something pretty hard to forget, ma.” 

Paige hovered on top of y/n’s spread out figure and ran her fingers against her bare thigh. “Take off your shirt for me, ma. Wanna see those pretty tits again, been too long.” she asked and y/n was quick to comply, taking off her blouse earning a light grunt from Paige’s lips.

She held them both in her hands as she lightly massaged them, “Fuck, I’ve missed touching these pretty lil’ things so bad, baby.” she whispered before bringing her mouth down and sucking on one of them, and pinching the other one using her thumb and index finger as y/n let out a loud moan. 

“Feels good, hm?” Paige mumbled, removing her mouth from her breast and attaching them to her neck, nibbling onto the skin, making sure to leave a visible mark right underneath her jaw. 

She slid down y/n’s shorts eagerly and moaned at the sight of her bare pussy on display for her. “Ima take care of you tonight, ma. Just like I used to, gonna help you feel real good.” she spoke, taking two of her fingers and shoving them into y/n’s mouth and muttering a low, “Suck.” 

Y/n was quick to suck on her fingers like her life depended on it. She remembered how much Paige loved when she’d take them down her throat–so she was quick to do so. “Fuck, yes. Just like that.” Paige praised, shoving a third finger into her mouth. “Suck my fingers real good, ma. Imagine it was my strap in your mouth again.” Y/n moaned at the thought of having the strap back in her mouth–missing the way Paige would fuck her face with it or the times she’d aggressively fuck her when she’d misbehave, leaving her pussy sore yet throbbing and begging for more. 

“Such a good girl. Sucking my fingers so well.” she said, slowly taking her fingers out of y/n’s mouth as a string of saliva followed, then bringing them down to her dripping pussy. “Always get so wet for me, didn’t even need the spit, could easily slide my fingers right in, just like this.” she spoke as she slid two of her digits nice and slow inside, watching them disappear inside her entrance, before taking them out, licking her wetness clean from her fingers and letting out a moan at the taste.

“God–sweetest pussy I’ve ever had. Could have this taste in my mouth everyday and be satisfied.” 

“Paige.” “Yes, ma?”

“Please lick me.” 

Paige leaned down and gave her a peck on the lips. “Anything you want.” she whispered, grabbing y/n’s thighs and putting them on top of her shoulders. Paige was a sucker for teasing, and on any other occasion she’d make y/n work and beg for it. That was the usual for them. It was rare for Paige to give in this easily and early but fuck–she hadn’t gotten a chance to properly taste her in a month.  

She was quick to attach her mouth to y/n’s needy clit and start licking. She gained so much pleasure just by eating her out, it was like a gift on Christmas day for her. “Been so long since I had this sweet lil’pussy in my mouth.” Paige lifts her mouth up a bit and licks, causing y/n’s mouth to fall open in disbelief at the soft, sucking sound and gently smacking-noise as her lips sucked onto her clit. “God–it’s so fucking good.” she groaned under her breath, and y/n swears she’s on cloud nine. The feeling of Paige’s hot breath combined with her wet tongue was sensational. 

“Come on, ma.” she squeezed her thighs with her long fingers before pleading, “Back and forth yeah? Rock a bit for me, want you to be riding my face a bit.” Y/n was quick to do so, feeling the warm tip of Paige’s tongue press against her. “Fuck, feels so good, I’ve missed your tongue on me so badly.” she moaned, before Paige gave her a warm, long lick, causing her to cry out softly.

“Yes–yes, that’s right baby.” Paige muffled, giving her clit a short, sloppy sounding lick, making y/n buckforward again. “Shit, good fucking girl. Ride my tongue, just like that.” she spoke, having her tongue still buried between her folds, as y/n let out louder moans from the pleasure. Paige began kneading her thighs firmly as she licked deeper and deeper with each sound of y/n’s breathless moans escaping her swollen lips.

Y/n felt her abdomen clench and release, causing her to let out a fluttery sigh. “I’m close, so-so close.” she whispered urgently, as Paige hauls her more tightly against her mouth and presses her tongue more firmly against her needy clit. Y/n inhales sharply and her mouth falls open when her center starts to splinter into pieces, “I’m cummin–fuck.” And before she knew it, she was making a mess on Paige’s face. She pants, caught in place, as Paige rubs her thighs and lifts her face up, revealing her mouth and chin, glistening in her pussy juices. 

Paige then leans down and kisses her, and y/n immediately tasted herself on her tongue. The two just stayed like this for a while before y/n pulled back from the kiss. “Now–my turn.” Y/n climbs her way off the bed and stands in front of Paige’s frame. “Let me make you feel good now.” she spoke, lightly shoving Paige back against the bed into the same position she was just in. Paige took off her sweats, leaving her in just her underwear and y/n was moaning already at the sight in front of her. 

“I’ve missed having you in my mouth.” she says, licking a stripe against her clothed clit, earning a moan from Paige’s lips. “Ima make you feel good too, promise.” Y/n quickly pulls her underwear to the side, revealing her wet and glistening folds, ready for her to dig in. 

Y/n’s quick to start licking as if she hadn’t eaten a proper meal in years. Paige kept a firm grip on her hair, yanking and pulling on it lightly with each feel of her tongue against her. Y/n loved looking up and watching the sight of Paige falling apart above her. Paige’s body grew more desperate with each deep, sloppy lick to her clit as y/n spit down onto her, earning another moan from her lips. Y/n could tell she was close by her pants and breaths, and she was determined to taste her cum on her tongue. After a few more licks and sucks to her clit, her legs shook and she was cumming. 

“Mmmmm” y/n dragged out, as she licked her lips clean and offered Paige a cute smile. “So tasty.” she mumbled as Paige grabbed her hips and dragged her body on top of hers and kissed her lazily.

 “I’ve missed this so badly, y/n.” 

“I’ve missed this too.” she muttered, gently kissing her jaw before pecking her nose. “At least now you don’t have to miss it anymore.”

“And why’s that hm?” she asked.

“Because I’m yours again.”

[starkeyisthelastname]

Okay buuut… not to be angsty about it but do pornstar!Rafe or reader ever have a moment where they’re just like “I can’t do this anymore” and they like try to not see each other but obviously that doesn’t work out… or probably last very long… I could see Rafe being emo about it and not being able to get it up for a scene and just walking off directly to your house all like “seriously what the fuck have you done to me!?”

okay so like I see this happening after their little talk, but Rafe is the one who says he can’t do it. 😭

Everything seemed good, the two of you even fucked again after smoking and talking briefly. The both of you left that the night with even stronger feelings which meant Rafe almost needed to step back for a minute. To you, it came out of nowhere and you felt rejected after reading the text he sent a few days after when you asked if he wanted to come over that night. ‘I need to focus on work rn. Agent told me I’m losing fans. Can’t do this anymore.”

It was clear Rafe was scared of something, and wasn’t going to tell you what it was. At least not right now anyway. As soon as you felt rejection, you became closed off. You didn’t even bother replying to his text, wiping the tears away over the fact you would probably be nothing more than a past fling to him. You wanted to hate yourself for falling for a guy, whose only focus was pussy and money.

For the first time when it came to a woman’s feelings, Rafe was feeling very guilty. He continued on with his week the best he could, trying to act like it didn’t bother him that he had called things off. After you left that night, he sat in his thoughts, thinking about if he really wanted to end his career for one girl he didn’t know much about. He knew the answer. He wanted you. Instead he came up with every excuse on why he should continue working, and before he could stop himself, he was sending you that message.

It was the next week when he showed up to set, pissed off at himself really, but taking it out on everyone else. You hadn’t texted him at all and he hadn’t tried to text back because a part of him felt like he had already fucked it up. He was affected by this more than he should be and for the first time, he didn’t want to film at all, not even try and fake it. As he stood trying to get himself hard, getting ready to shoot, he just couldn’t do it, which only pissed him off more. He knew he couldn’t continue his day like this without seeing you again.

You nearly cut yourself with the knife you had been using to chop vegetables when you heard the pounding on the door. You frowned, wiping your hands and quickly going to answer the door. You didn’t get two words in, before Rafe stormed in, wrapping a hand around your throat. “What the fuck are you doing to me? Huh?” He asked, blue eyes dark.

“R-Rafe what the fuck you doing?” You asked, gasping for breath. You hadn’t spoken to him since you left his house a week ago, and hadn’t ever responded to his dick of a text. You couldn’t deny that you had missed his touch, even if it had only been a week, it still felt longer than that. You craved this man, no matter how much you disliked him right now.

Within a second, he was turning you around so that his front was pressed directly against your back. “Can’t even fuckin work, because you and this perfect cunt are on my mind 24/7.” He spat in your ear. Your head spun as he continued to squeeze your throat, his other hand lifting up the little dress you had on. He chuckled to himself as he noticed your lack of panties, making it all the more easier to slam himself into you, after quickly undoing his pants. His dick was now harder than ever, stretching you open for the first time in over a week.

“R-Rafe!” You cried, only to get three thick digits shoved in your mouth.

Rafe was ashamed of himself for even considering turning you away, he didn’t even want to look at you right now, wondering why you had to be so goddamn perfect and why he had to feel this way about some girl he didn’t even know. “Shut up. Don’t wanna hear shit from you now. Just take this fuckin dick like a good whore.” His tone low, dripping like venom in your ear, while you gagged on his hand. He fucked you like he hated you, but the truth was he couldn’t get enough of you. He had found his new addiction.

[johnbrand]

Fathering Normality

“And then I just shoved it right in!”

Luke grunted as he thrust forward, drawing a laugh out of his friend Colton. Luke had been recounting the entire night before to him, going over every detail. How it started as a boner, how that boner led him to a bar, how that bar led him to rubbing up against some girl, and how that girl led him to shooting multiple loads directly into her tight pussy.

“It was exhilarating!” Luke recalled, the natural masculinity giving his voice a gruff, dense texture. “And all I can think about now is…doing it again…and again!”

Luke thrusted once more, trying to relieve the pressure building up in his thick cock. Colton could not help but happily smile along with his friend, very familiar with the experience of breeding a woman himself. In fact, his girlfriend had recently found out she was pregnant. When Colton had first received the news, he had been ecstatic. When Luke had received the news from Colton days later, he had not been.

Just a week ago, Colton and Luke had been in the same positions; Luke dramatically recounting some tale while Colton laid back and listened. Although, that time had been more violent. “What do you mean she’s pregnant?” Luke cried. “What are you two going to do? You’re too young, neither of you have secured jobs. We all just barely graduated from college a few years ago!”

Argument after argument flew by, but eventually Colton could not handle it anymore. His friend was supposed to be supportive, happy for the couple as they were with the situation. Then a strange thought came to Colton’s head–maybe Luke would be more supportive if he was able to see his side of things. 

Colton had shot the bullet directly into Luke’s head without hesitation. There was no way his gay friend could have understood the joy of breeding, fertilizing, and bearing fruit other than by being converted to try it himself. Of course, Luke did not remember the sound of the gun firing, dropping to the floor, or his limp body being handed over to local enforcement. Colton did not even think Luke remembered the past version of himself. And now that Colton had met the new model, he hoped he would soon forget too.

Gay Luke had been fun. A little bit on the shorter, skinnier side, but still a ball of energy. He always had a theatrical flair, and he kept himself well-maintained, but he had commitment issues and terrible spending habits. This Straight Luke though, had nearly made the equally heterosexual Colton blush. He was now much taller, more muscular, with that ball of energy transformed into sheer masculine confidence. Luke still held that capacity to put on a performance, but now it was powerful and captivating. 

Colton had contacted Luke at the end of the incubation period, not knowing what to expect. Yet he would have never predicted the stacked body-builder in a plain, short-sleeved button-up and dirty jeans appearing at his door. Sure, there were some things Colton felt a little guilty about. Luke’s former luscious locks had thinned out and shortened into a tiny quiff afflicted by male pattern baldness. His hygiene had definitely taken a hit; Colton had smelt the new funk as soon as those massive shoes had come off at the door. But the conversion affected everyone differently, so because Luke appeared obliviously overjoyed with heterosexuality, Colton felt that he could be too.

“So I just started countin’ as I rammed in. ‘One, two,’” Luke continually thrusted to display his point. “And eventually, it had to be like on 15 or 16, I felt that first burst of ecstasy. After that I lost count, I just went into hyper-mode.”

Colton chuckled, getting up to grab us some beers. He tossed one to Luke.

“Thanks bro,” Luke cracked his cold one open. “By the way, what did you call me over for anyway?”

“Oh man, I thought I already told you,” Colton half-lied. “My girl’s pregnant: I’m gonna be a dad.”

Luke’s eyes lit up, “DUDE! That’s awesome! Congratulations!! God, if only I could be so lucky, right?” 

Colton cheered to that, smirking at the possibility. He had been right when he had chosen to father normality. Thanks to him, one could metaphorically say he would soon be fathering twice the amount of children as a result of Luke’s conversion.

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 190 }

labor of love.

kenji (ken) sato x fem.reader

ken sato had never known the joys of being pampered and cared for in his adult life-

that is, until the moment he meets you.

you were someone he believed he never truly deserved; a woman who was far too giving, far too kind for the likes of him. yet against all odds, you were someone who remained by his side, knowing of his struggles with taking on the responsibilities of ultraman while maintaining his status as a star baseball player.

you kept him grounded; filling his days with joy when the weight of own personal world was on the brink of collapse as you gave him an unconditional type of love. he never had to hide his emotions or his true self from you when things got hard-

and he loved you dearly for it.

coming home from practice with his team, ken parks his motorbike on his driveway, settled directly next to your car as he smiles at the sight of it. knowing you were already home fills his heart with joy as ken walks with a noticeable bounce in his step up to his house.

his keys weren’t even inserted into the keyhole when the front door suddenly opens, revealing your beautiful features to him. ken smiles, calling out your name with a fondness as you eagerly welcome him into your embrace. “kenji! you’re home…”

he chuckles and wraps his arms around you, stepping into the living room with you still clinging to him while locking the door in the process. “yeah, i’m home, babe.” he brushes his lips against your hair, watching as you scrunch up your nose in response.

“gross, ken, you smell musky and damp.”

feigning offense to your words, ken ends up wrapping the entirety of his limbs around your form, earning a series of giggles from you. filled with affection and a playfulness for you, ken ends up leaning the entirety of his weight on your back, making you let out a grunt as you dragged him with you into the bathroom.

“you’re such a big baby, ken…!”

“yeah? well i’m your big baby, sweets.” ken finally loosens up his hold on you, bringing you back into his powerful embrace when his eyes take in the sight of his bathtub filled to the brim with warm water.

ken could feel his muscles aching with need from the sight, the memory of his coach’s training regimen coming back to him in full force as he let out a loud groan. “babe, for real? you did all this for me?”

“of course i did, you big baby.” you hum while peeling off the rest of his clothes, not stopping until he was bare for you as you carefully lead him into the tub filled with piping hot water. as you help him get into the tub, ken lets out a hiss in response before visibly relaxing, letting out a sigh before submerging the entirety of his body beneath the waters.

“honey, you shouldn’t have… but i ain’t gonna start complaining now.”

your constant giggles were like music to ken’s ears as he felt your hands massaging at his shoulders, working out all the tension his muscles had developed during practice today. “baaaabbbby damn, this feels so good. you’re spoilin’ me too much.”

his voice was drawn out, letting out deep grunts and purrs of your name as you continued to treat him with your massages. when you were certain he was satisfied, you turn away from him and grab his trademark beer, cracking open the can for him while silently beckoning your beloved to take a hold of it.

“holy shit, what in the hell did i ever do to deserve you?”

you giggle again and give him a loving smile, carefully wetting his dark strands of hair before lathering it with his favorite shampoo. you work on massaging his scalp, basking in his groans before admitting to him, “what can i say? my beloved is a star baseball player and ultraman; of course i’d wish to spoil you, kenny.”

ken visibly blushes at the sound of your nickname for him. he lets out a gentle scoff, trying to hide his embarrassment by taking a sip of his beer. the smile was heard from your voice, and you continue to wash his hair until he was satisfied.

after helping him rinse off his hair, you carefully dress your boyfriend in his signature silk robe, pressing a chaste kiss against his lips before leading him back into the kitchen. “sit at the table and i’ll heat up dinner for you.”

ken hums, but stops you from moving when he grips at your wrist to press another chaste kiss against your lips. “you know how much i love you, right?”

“of course i know, you dweeb. i wouldn’t have stayed by your side if you weren’t as crazy about me as i am about you.”

ken rolls his eyes upon hearing your words, but couldn’t stop the blush from deepening against his cheeks. finally, he lets you go and allows you to heat up dinner, continuing to take casual sips of his beer all while eagerly waiting for your return.

within the next 15 minutes, you come back to the dining table and place a piping hot plate of omurice in front of him, drawn with a cute ketchup heart on top of it. feeling like he was on top of the world right now, he gives you a grateful smile before digging into his food, telling you how delicious it tasted as he practically devours his meal within seconds.

not only was his stomach full, but his heart as well. ken was filled to the brim with so much love for you that he honestly felt as though he were living in a dream. as if mesmerized by your tender love and care, ken simply follows you without saying a word, allowing you to take his hand before leading him back to your shared bedroom.

you slowly take off his silk robe, helping him get into his shirt and sweatpants before beckoning him to get into bed. he does so with a low grunt, his handsome features slowly upturned in a smirk before teasing you.

“heh… i’m surprised you haven’t pounced on me yet with the amount of times you’ve seen me naked…”

you roll your eyes at his attempts at seducing you, “don’t be ridiculous, ken, you’re exhausted and mentally drained right now.”

ken merely hums in response, his eyelids starting to grow heavier while yawning. once he was tucked in, you had every intention of finishing up some chores around the house when ken manages to stop you, his large hand gripping at your wrist. you look back at him with a smile, hearing him mutter to you, “mmm stay….”

“you want me to stay with you?”

cue ken giving you a sleepy nod.

“but i’ve got dishes to clean.”

“fuck the dishes.”

you let out a gasp when ken takes advantage of his strength to pull you back into bed with him. he lets out a satisfied hum, allowing you to rest your head on his broad chest. the sound of his calm heartbeat against your ear makes you visibly relax, finding comfort within his warmth while being surrounded by his scent.

“you’re spoiled, you know that, kenny?”

“hmph… y’love me anyways.”

you giggle and nod, pressing a kiss against his chest. “you’ve got me there, kenji.” was your whispered reply, but by now, you were certain that he had fallen asleep. you could feel the way his chest rose and fell in tune with his breathing, making you smile in response.

with a sigh, you cuddle your body closer to his, feeling your eyelids grow heavier before falling into a peaceful slumber. for the next several minutes, silence was heard, and only when ken was certain that you were in a deep sleep did he open one eye to look down at you. remaining ever so careful with his movements, he takes a hold of your left hand and makes a note of your ring finger, already imagining the perfect engagement ring for you.

he lets out a gentle whisper of your name before pressing a kiss against your left ring finger. “i hope you’re ready to be mine forever, babe, because there’s no way in hell i’m letting someone as good as you go.”

a.n. - ken is so cute tbh tbh, i can’t stop thinking about how cute and soft he looks in ultraman rising ｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[milunalupin]

— you don't fool me

sirius black x reader ★ 1.4k words

You had been dreading today’s lesson ever since Professor Slughorn announced that the class would be brewing Amortentia. The girls in your year buzzed with excitement, speculating about what—or who—their crushes might smell like in the cauldron. Sirius Black, your potions partner and the object of your affection for the past two years, arrived late as usual. A true prodigy, he dove straight into chopping ingredients without even glancing at the chapter, which both thrilled and unnerved you. For once, you were grateful that he didn’t bother reading the title; it might have revealed your feelings far too soon.

“Your perfume is stronger today,” Sirius mumbled as he leaned closer to the potion, stirring it until it was ready. He quickly turned to you, his eyes wide. “You smell good, though.”

Sirius, ever the potions savant, clearly hadn’t been paying attention in class. He didn’t even know what potion he was brewing.

“I’m not wearing any perfume today, Sirius.”

He froze, the spoon he was using hanging in mid-air as he processed your words. When he glanced over at you, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He awkwardly returned to stirring, his gaze fixed on the potion as he avoided looking directly at you.

Just then, Professor Slughorn strolled over to inspect your work. “Impeccable Amortentia, Mr. Black, Ms. L/N. Ten points to Gryffindor and Hufflepuff!” he praised before moving on.

Sirius’s cheeks reddened further, a mix of pride and embarrassment flooding him. As he continued stirring, a look of horror crossed his face when he realized why the potion smelled so good to him. He refused to even breathe in your direction, his eyes fixed on the shimmery pink potion.

"What do you smell in yours, Pads? Mine smells like my radiant Lily flower, if it wasn't obvious." James Potter ran over to your table, sending you a polite smile and turning towards his best friend. You busied yourself with cleaning up your station and packing your things.

"Yeah, well, I smell Quidditch leather and broomstick polish," he lied through his teeth, determined to hide the truth from you. He kept his tone casual, busying himself with packing up his own belongings.

"Quidditch, of course." James laughed, nudging his friend. Sirius couldn't help but notice the frown on your face, and his heart sank a little. He hated the fact that he was lying, but he couldn't bring himself to confess the truth. He tried to shrug it off, attempting to keep up the casual banter.

"You know me Prongs, anything to do with the game." He chuckled, glancing over at you for just a moment before quickly averting his gaze.

"What about you, Y/N?"" James turned to you. You looked like a deer in the headlights.

“Um…” you hesitated, your mind racing as you scanned the room for a quick, plausible answer. Your gaze fell on Gilderoy Lockhart, who was charmingly oblivious, flipping his hair as he posed for admirers. “Charms class, velvet, and hair gel.”

James let out a snort of laughter, clearly amused by your unexpected answer. Meanwhile, Sirius's eyes widened slightly, his heart sinking further at your response. He hadn’t expected you to mention Lockhart, of all people.

"Charms class, velvet, and hair gel?" James repeated, struggling to contain his laughter. He exchanged a glance with Sirius, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Yes, what's wrong with that?" you questioned him, hands tensing around your book bag, glancing towards the ever so popular Gilderoy Lockhart.

James shook his head, clearly finding your answer amusing. He chuckled, unable to keep a grin off his face. Meanwhile, Sirius remained uncharacteristically quiet, his hands clenched at his sides.

"Well, it's just a bit funny," James began, still smirking, "the smell of Lockhart's hair gel being something you're into."

“Come on, he’s rather charming, isn’t he?” you replied, forcing a laugh even as your heart raced. James nudged Sirius with a playful smirk, relishing the moment. "Can you believe it? She's got a crush on Lockhart, Pads."

Sirius, however, remained uncharacteristically silent. There was a mixture of emotions flashing through his eyes, a mixture of jealousy and hurt. He forced a smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

“Lockhart’s a complete prat,” he scoffed, trying to mask the vulnerability that lay beneath his bravado. The mention of your supposed crush was like a blow to his usually confident demeanor.

“Yeah? And you’re a prat too,” you shot back, a spark of defiance in your voice. “And somehow tons of girls like you. Is it really so hard to believe I’d be into Gilderoy?”

James chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter, but Sirius's expression darkened. He was used to girls liking him, but there was something about this conversation that stung more than usual. His heart twisted as he listened to you talk about Lockhart.

"I mean, Lockhart's a self-obsessed idiot," he retorted, his voice edged with a hint of jealousy. "But I guess if that's what you're into..."

"I guess it is.." you scoffed softly, putting the last of your school supplies into your bag. "Cheers, Potter."

You swiftly turned and walked out of the classroom, leaving James oblivious and Sirius making some serious realizations in his head.

James was left slightly bewildered by how the conversation had ended, but he shrugged it off, not knowing the impact his words had had. Meanwhile, Sirius stood frozen in place, watching you storm out of the classroom. He clenched his hands into fists, frustration and confusion swirling in his mind. He muttered a muttered goodbye to James before hurrying after you.

Sirius quickly caught up to you once you'd turned the corner, his long strides closing the distance between the two of you. He reached out and grabbed your arm, gently spinning you around to face him.

"Wait." He blurted out, sounding a mix between frustrated and panicked.

Your eyes widened as you were spun around, gaze landing on Sirius.

His hand lingered on your arm, anchoring him amidst the chaos of emotions swirling inside him. Taking a deep breath, he tried to steady himself. The cocky confidence he usually exuded was nowhere to be found, replaced instead by uncertainty and vulnerability.

“Why did you lie?” he asked, the hurt evident in his tone.

“What do you mean?” Your heart raced, searching his stormy eyes for clarity.

Sirius clenched his jaw, his grip on your arm tightening unconsciously. The hurt in his gaze was palpable as he struggled to find the right words. “About the potion, Y/N. The Amortentia. You lied about what you smelled.”

“Well, you lied first!” you shot back, pulling your arm away.

His eyes widened in surprise as you snatched your arm back, and he took a step back, raking a hand through his messy hair in frustration. “I—” he stammered, caught off guard. “That’s different…”

He opened his mouth, then shut it again, frustration knitting his brow. A thousand arguments swirled in his head, yet he found himself speechless.

“You blatantly lied about not smelling me in your potion! I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me, so I lied too.” Your gaze fell, guilt creeping in.

Sirius’s eyes widened, surprise and guilt washing over him. He hadn’t anticipated your honesty, and it shook him to the core. He took a step closer, his hand twitching, longing to reach out but hesitating. “You thought I didn’t want anything to do with you?”

“I know I don’t smell like Quidditch leather, Sirius. You clearly smelled my perfume in the potion. I thought it was your way of rejecting me.”

His expression softened, guilt flooding his features. Closing the distance, he spoke low and sincere. “No, I—” he paused, the weight of truth pressing heavily on his heart. “I didn’t lie because I didn’t want you. It’s the opposite, really.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Honestly, if you wanted to confess, you could’ve just told me. No potions or Lockhart drama needed.”

“Next time, I’ll stick to the basics,” he said, trying to hold back his grin. “Maybe just a bouquet of flowers instead of an Amortentia mess.”

“Or some honesty would do just fine,” you replied, grinning back at him.

“No more lies, darling. But please, promise you won’t mention Lockhart again; my heart can only take so much!”

You both burst into laughter, the tension dissolving into something light and hopeful, a new chapter unfolding between you.

[moonsaver]

I’m just imagining the arranged marriage thing but this time it’s Sunday who is head over heels for reader (maybe he was the one who set this up in the first place! This could also tie into reader being higher status but Sunday does something to make them fall and then saves them by entering a relationship with the head of the oak family) but reader doesn’t like him or is into someone else, the angst….i feel like Sunday would do everything to make them love him but it just won’t work so in the end he just begs them to at least pretend they love him and that’ll be enough. A happier prompt on this could be he does actually succeed in getting some of their genuine love in the end. Anyway just thought of this after seeing a clip of Aqua and Akane from oshi no ko. Don’t judge me.

Okay, tons of possibilities here so lets go turn by turn because i really like this idea and unfortunately let it marinate for way too long

And it might have become unintentionally yandere, so i might redo it lol + there's not much fluff.

1 . Sunday arranging the marriage himself because he really likes reader – normal au

Sunday would definitely do this if he was pushed to his wits’ end. If his feelings for you not only disintegrate, but instead worsen and delve deeper, and on top of that, if he senses you yourself are drifting away from him. The added pressure of not reaching you in time after a conclusion to his own feelings is scary to him. In his desperation, he might as well pull some or the other reason out of his ass to marry you, even going as far as to even bribe your parents/guardians or anyone who has the power to object on your behalf.

Negotiations, contract handling, etc.. are all planned by him, so if you have a problem or you want to object, you can only do it by directly confronting Sunday himself. The added intimidation of his knowing, mysterious smile when he stands before you, almost irking you to continue in silence when you hesitate at wanting to object is something he almost relishes. Any problem you might have, has to be directly communicated to Sunday.

In the actual marriage? He's much easier on you. The hard part of coercing you into the marriage was over. He allows you more freedom in the marriage than he does outside of it.

He allows you separate rooms, reigns in any affections for you until you're comfortable, and even openly lets you know you two won't have to immediately consummate your marriage. He'll generally make sure you're comfortable in your marriage.

Of course, deviations and exceptions occur if you happen to still have lingering feelings for.. some nobody. He's bitter about it, so so bitter you can feel the tension in the air when his smile slightly falters at even the mention of their name. Sunday might try to hasten the process of you getting “comfortable” and perhaps even start forcing a few affections on you, such as kissing or holding your hand, brushing your hair in the morning and before bed, lingering his eyes on your lips. He might even not so subtly try to pressurise you, by telling you things like “at this rate, many might not even think we are married, my dear”. 

He plays slightly dirty, but there's so many moments of clarity that he hesitates still. He doesn't want to force you to love him - he wants it to happen on it's own. He's often so loving to you from afar in hopes you'll notice and maybe even return them, but when you look away in anxiousness or discomfort, Sunday's smile falters into a resigned, solemn expression. It hurts, deeply.

2. Sunday arranges the marriage with a reader of higher rank

Its similar, but you'll find the process is hastier. Perhaps it even causes a few slip ups in the middle.

Sunday would be practically tearing at his own hair before he finds the key to catalyze the negotiations of your marriage with him. If it's something that happens to knock you down or push you into unfavourable circumstances, he hesitates. But if you happen to like someone else? All that hesitation vaporises in an instant. He's practically over the moon when you have no one to turn to, his hand is almost shaking from excitement when he reaches it out to you. 

He's much more.. smothering if it makes sense, but he's not outright/direct about it. He always wants to be wherever you are, sometimes stands too close for comfort beside you, and even puts you in circumstances where you won't necessarily be able to push back in the case you damage your already fragile image or so. He's so elated, it's almost creepy. If you don't seem to be driving the relationship, or remain stagnant, his suspicions will grow immensely regarding your feelings for anyone else. Whenever you aren't present, he probably rifles through your belongings, scours for any possibility of traces of that nobody in your life.

He insists on spending the night with you – a familiar knock at the exact same time almost every night on your room's door. He stays with you, talking until it's late at night and you're too tired to shoo him away. But he'd never think himself superior than you, rather he almost takes advantage of it. He's constantly telling you how much incharge of the relationship you are. He disguises choices he wants to make on your behalf as something you can decide on. “Would you like a separate room for us both, or would you like us to have connected doorways?” , “shall I spend the morning with you, or the night?” , or so on. Not doing anything with him makes him sour, but he hides it with a smile. Sooner or later your plans are sabotaged, and in the end he joins you in “fixing” them anyway, and well.. since he's already been here for so long, it won't hurt to have him stick by until the end of it, right?

In some extreme cases, maybe one where the reader is desperately trying to leave the marriage or push back against anything that solidifies it, Sunday might even insist that you two consummate as fast as possible, regarding it as something necessary or even vital. He's so persistent about what he wants from you, like a dog begging and whimpering, that you're practically coerced into giving it to him.

He often poses himself on his knees to you, and stares so tenderly at you, you might crack. It hurts to not give him what he wants. There's times where begging words almost slip out of his mouth when he has to pull you closer. He wants your love so desperately it hurts.

[rubyvhs]

stars (castiel novak)

pairing; castiel novak x reader tags; fluff, hardly any angst, inexperienced cas summary; you find cas after his argument with dean and one thing leads to another.

masterlist

Screw the Winchesters for ever hurting Cas. Dean just— he yells, and screams, and he doesn’t stop until he or the person in front of him are hurt. It sucks. Because more often than not, Sam or Cas are that person. Thank God Dean respects women as much as he does because a vamp nest i can take— a screaming fest? Sign me out.

But he isn’t easy on the boys, especially Cas. The angel had to prove himself to Dean— to all of us, really, so many times it should’ve worn him out years ago, but he’s still here, despite it all, and this is the thanks he gets for saving our asses all the time? It isn’t right.

Usually after Dean has an episode Cas likes to disappear. Sam went with his brother while I followed Cas to see that he’s thankfully still there. In the astronomy room. We found it a few months ago and I got to name it. The men of letters seemed to have a knack for stars because the projection on the ceiling is a live image of the stars at the moment. It’s beautiful. 

It’s also special. I’ve never sat in this room with anyone other than Cas. It’s our thing, at least for me, I’m not sure what his thoughts on the room are. 

“Cas?” He doesn’t look at me from his spot leaning on the wall, staring up at the ceiling. “Cas,” I whisper thoughtfully this time, and he faces me. “Can I sit?” 

He shrugs and it’s all the invitation I need. Castiel has learned to understand and deal with human emotions so well over the years that sometimes I forget he isn’t one. He’s responds to Dean so expertly. Especially Dean. Profound bond and whatnot. “Dean is being ridiculous, obviously.”

He doesn’t respond. “C’mon, you know how he is, he gets mad at something as. Waits for someone to blow up on—”

“I know that. I’m not sulking.”

“Then what are you doing here?” No response. “Cas, are you okay?”

“The stars, they’re beautiful.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t want to lie to you.” I sigh, moving only a little closer, “I do not care what Dean does, or his opinion on the matter, what I did was what we needed.”

“You almost melted the guy’s brain, but yeah, I get it.”

“He will live, and Dean will learn to be alright. It is you who I fear would not forgive me.” My eyes widened. Me? First of all, what the hell does that mean, since when does an Angel of the Lord care if I forgive him? Second, forgive him for what? I just said I get it. “You are the only soul on earth who I haven’t looked at directly.” 

My breath hitches in my throat and I can’t even process his words. I didn’t know he could even control that. “I can not control who’s souls I can and can not see— but for all the years I have been with the Winchesters they’ve been very open with me, they bared their souls to me. Well, Dean didn’t have a choice, but Sam saw Angels as some kind of saving graces, he eagerly showed me himself. You have too, to some extent, but I haven’t been able to let my grace free when I’m around you.”

That’s two years of holding his breath when I’m around. Two years of not being comfortable when I’m there and two years of no eye contact. Most of the time all I get is a glance. Most of the time I don’t get anything at all. 

“Why?”

“Because your soul will—” he lets out a small laugh (i decide it is my favorite sound in the world) and shakes his head, he whispers my name, “it will blind me.”

“Cas,” I mumble. We’re both moving closer. His lips are so close. “What does that mean?”

“That I’m scared to lose you as I am the Winchesters,” I swallow nothing and try to calm my nerves but he’s doing that thing Dean taught him with his eyes and they’re going from my lips to my eyes and fuck, its chemical. “I am worried to lose any part of you. Your affection for me, however different from mine to you.”

“Cas. Kiss me.” It takes him a while to understand that it’s an order, and that I am consenting, but when he does— God, I don’t want to say it’s fireworks (it is), or that his lips taste like cotton candy (they do, courtesy of Dean’s gum), or that it kind of maybe changes me completely. 

He pulls away first. “I tried when I was human, and once when I was an angel, a long time ago, but was that correct?”

I don’t know if I want to kiss him again or compliment and affirm to him that everything he does is correct till tomorrow. I choose the former but promise the latter that we will meet again. We move against each other, smoother than i ever have considering I don’t do this often, and he’s so good you would never know just how inexperienced he is. 

“My soul?” I smile into it.

“Blindingly beautiful.” I’m sure he can’t actually see it right at this moment with his eyes only half open to stare at my lips, but it’s enough for me.

It takes longer but I pull away this time. His hand is still on my cheek and he’s slowly pulling me in and out, just brushing his lips against mine while I try to talk. Where did he learn to do all of this? “Cas, what does— Cas—”

Talking’s always been overrated. Especially when we don’t have time.

[antiendovents]

“Put this pro endo flag to let people know you are safe!” WHAT.

Why are endos acting like they are “discriminated against.” Having a system isn’t fun. I wish I wasn’t a system because it genuinely affects my life. It’s a DISORDER. Being an endo is the same thing as saying “I have PTSD without the trauma.” THAT IS IMPOSSIBLE.

This makes me so upset. My memories are getting worse and worse, and yet these endo “systems” are just “making up” alters for fun. Why are there pro endo people. Am I actually missing something??

I hate endo systems. I’m convinced that a small percentage are actual systems that forgot their trauma, and the rest are just making ocs while hiding behind the term system (its not fun btw!!)

— 🪱🪲

yeah, I really don't know why endos always act as if they're an oppressed class; you're not. You are the oppressors. They literally come from a movement that attempted to demedicalise DID completely, which would make many many systems suffer as they likely wouldn't have anymore accommodations or have access to the things their diagnosis gives them (which probably isn't a lot, but still). The only "discrimination" they experience (that's related to them being endogenic) is when people tell them facts, which, by the way, isn't discrimination. When someone tells you 'hey, what you're doing is hurting hundreds of not thousands of people (directly and indirectly) and you're spreading tons and tons of misinformation' that isn't discrimination. Your hatred for endos is valid and even if a small percentage of them are genuinely confused that doesn't excuse the misinformation and harm they spread / cause.

[bucksanklescrews]

car shopping- e.b. x fem!reader

Warnings: None, pregnant!reader, fluff

"I'm not driving a minivan," Evan said, his voice stern, but a hint of amusement still shined through.

You ran a hand over your bump. "Jesus, Buck, how many of them do you think are in here?"

Evan chuckled, shaking his head as he looked at you with that familiar mix of affection and playful defiance. "I don’t care if it’s one or five, I’m not trading in the Jeep for a minivan."

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips as you ran a hand over your growing bump. “Come on, Buck, don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic? It’s not like we’re starting a soccer team.”

He grinned, leaning back against the counter, his arms crossing over his chest. “I’m just saying, this Jeep has been with me through a lot. I’m not ready to swap it out for something... practical.”

"I said practical, which means a Jeep that doesn't stutter when it starts-"

"I made an appointment for it next week!"

You placed a hand on your hip. "And what about the appointment last week?"

He sighed, knowing you had a point. Despite all the love and care he had poured into maintaining his Jeep over the years—new tires, a well-kept motor, and a slightly faded paint job that he swore added character—it was clear that the old Jeep was reaching the end of its life. It had racked up miles and had started showing signs of wear, no matter how much he wanted to deny it. Sure, his car had been fine before, but now that you were expecting, the last thing you wanted was to worry about Buck and your little angel stalling at an intersection or, worse, being stranded somewhere.

Evan ran a hand through his hair, the reluctance in his eyes giving way to a resigned sigh. “Alright, I’ll look at new cars... but I’m not making any promises.”

You smiled, knowing it was the best you were going to get from him. “That’s all I’m asking.”

Car shopping turned out to be more of a challenge than either of you anticipated. Every car seemed to have something wrong with it—too worn, too expensive, too small, too impractical. The first dealership was a bust, with Buck dismissing every option the salesman showed him. The second one wasn’t any better, with Buck complaining about the lack of character in the newer models. By the time you reached the sixth dealership, you were starting to lose hope.

Then you spotted it—another Jeep, practically identical to his. It was a little newer, with fewer miles on it, and in good condition. For a moment, you thought this might be the one. Buck approached the Jeep, his eyes lighting up as he inspected it closely. He ran his hand over the hood, checked the tires, and even peeked inside the cabin.

You watched him, hopeful that this could be it. But as the salesman approached to seal the deal, you noticed the look on Buck’s face. The excitement had faded, replaced by something more subdued. He thanked the salesman politely, but instead of heading back inside to discuss numbers, he started walking back to your car.

You followed him, your heart sinking a little. “Evan?”

He glanced back at the Jeep, then at you. “It’s just... it’s not the same, you know? It doesn’t feel right.”

You sighed, understanding where he was coming from. “I get it, Buck. But we need something reliable, something safe. For all of us.”

He nodded, though you could see the reluctance still lingering in his eyes. “I know. It’s just hard to let go.”

You slipped your hand into his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll find something that feels right, I promise. But maybe it doesn’t have to be another Jeep. Maybe it’s time for something new.”

Buck considered your words, his gaze softening as he looked down at your intertwined hands. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

As your due date approached, just over a week away, the anticipation was palpable. You sighed, flipping through yet another car catalog, this one featuring used cars being sold directly by their owners. Your hand absentmindedly rested on your bump as you turned the pages, glancing over sedans and SUVs, none of which seemed to stand out.

But then, you spotted it. Another Jeep, just a few shades darker than his current car. It had low miles and was moderately priced, a rare find that immediately caught your attention. You smiled to yourself, thinking maybe this was it, the compromise between nostalgia and practicality. You turned the catalog towards Buck, who was sitting next to you on the couch, and pointed it out.

“Look at this one,” you said, your voice laced with hope. “It’s just like yours, but with way fewer miles. What do you think?”

Buck’s eyes lit up for a second as he took in the image, the familiar look of excitement flashing across his face. But then, just as quickly, he seemed to hesitate, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“It’s nice,” he admitted, nodding appreciatively. “But... I already found something.”

You quirked an eyebrow in surprise. “Oh? And when were you planning on telling me?”

Buck chuckled, pulling out his phone. “I was going to surprise you, but since we’re on the topic...”

He scrolled through his photos, searching for something specific. You watched him curiously, wondering what he had found. Finally, he stopped on a picture and handed the phone to you.

The image on the screen was of a new Jeep, a different color from his current one but still unmistakably in the same spirit. It was slightly newer, with a sleeker design, but it still had that rugged, adventurous look that Buck loved so much.

“I saw it when we were on a call,” Buck explained, his voice carrying a mix of excitement and nostalgia. “It was parked on the street, and I just couldn’t take my eyes off it. I jotted down the number before we left, and I went back to see it with Eddie before heading home.”

You looked at the photo, then back at Buck, and couldn’t help but smile. There was something endearing about the way he was so attached to his Jeep, and yet willing to find something new that still honored the old.

“You really like it, don’t you?” you asked softly.

Buck nodded, his eyes twinkling with a mix of excitement and a touch of sentimentality. “Yeah, I do. It’s not exactly the same, but it feels right, you know? Like it’s time for something new, but it still reminds me of the old one.”

You leaned over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m glad you found something you love, Buck. And if you’re happy with it, then I am too.”

He smiled, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close, his hand resting protectively over your bump. “Thanks, babe. I know it’s silly, but this Jeep... it means a lot.”

You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth and love between you both. “It’s not silly at all. It’s a big change, and I’m glad you found something that feels right.”

As you sat there together, the car catalog forgotten on the coffee table, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment. The Jeep was just a car, but it symbolized so much more—moving forward, making room for new memories, and embracing the future together as a family.

[askablindperson]

In what way does alt text serve as an accessibility tool for blind people? Do you use text to speech? I'm having trouble imagining that. I suppose I'm in general not understanding how a blind person might use Tumblr, but I'm particularly interested in the function of alt text.

In short, yes. We use text to speech (among other access technology like braille displays) very frequently to navigate online spaces. Text to speech software specifically designed for blind people are called screen readers, and when use on computers, they enable us to navigate the entire interface using the keyboard instead of the mouse And hear everything on screen, as long as those things are accessible. The same applies for touchscreens on smart phones and tablets, just instead of using keyboard commands, it alters the way touch affect the screen so we hear what we touch before anything actually gets activated. That part is hard to explain via text, but you should be able to find many videos online of blind people demonstrating how they use their phones.

As you may be able to guess, images are not exactly going to be accessible for text to speech software. Blindness screen readers are getting better and better at incorporating OCR (optical character recognition) software to help pick up text in images, and rudimentary AI driven Image descriptions, but they are still nowhere near enough for us to get an accurate understanding of what is in an image the majority of the time without a human made description.

Now I’m not exactly a programmer so the terminology I use might get kind of wonky here, but when you use the alt text feature, the text you write as an image description effectively gets sort of embedded onto the image itself. That way, when a screen reader lands on that image, Instead of having to employ artificial intelligences to make mediocre guesses, it will read out exactly the text you wrote in the alt text section.

Not only that, but the majority of blind people are not completely blind, and usually still have at least some amount of residual vision. So there are many blind people who may not have access to a screen reader, but who may struggle to visually interpret what is in an image without being able to click the alt text button and read a description. Plus, it benefits folks with visual processing disorders as well, where their visual acuity might be fine, but their brain’s ability to interpret what they are seeing is not. Being able to click the alt text icon in the corner of an image and read a text description Can help that person better interpret what they are seeing in the image, too.

Granted, in most cases, typing out an image description in the body of the post instead of in the alt text section often works just as well, so that is also an option. But there are many other posts in my image descriptions tag that go over the pros and cons of that, so I won’t digress into it here.

Utilizing alt text or any kind of image description on all of your social media posts that contain images is single-handedly one of the simplest and most effective things you can do to directly help blind people, even if you don’t know any blind people, and even if you think no blind people would be following you. There are more of us than you might think, and we have just as many varied interests and hobbies and beliefs as everyone else, so where there are people, there will also be blind people. We don’t only hang out in spaces to talk exclusively about blindness, we also hang out in fashion Facebook groups and tech subreddits and political Twitter hashtags and gaming related discord servers and on and on and on. Even if you don’t think a blind person would follow you, You can’t know that for sure, and adding image descriptions is one of the most effective ways to accommodate us even if you don’t know we’re there.

I hope this helps give you a clearer understanding of just how important alt text and image descriptions as a whole are for blind accessibility, and how we make use of those tools when they are available.

[bloop-bl00p]

Are the suffering and consequences in the room with us?

For a place that is supposed to be Hell, there’s little to no effort into showing that these people are punished. Not necessarily by the Hellborns, I very much like the approach of “Hell is other people” but the writers failed at showing us this aspect. Vivziepop's version of Hell feels more like L.A. painted in red. And that’s disappointing.

It’s still a messed up place but outside of episode 4, there’s no real investment in making sure we understand that this is HELL. We see people do drugs yet we see nobody in a zombie-like state on the street. The closest we had was a randoe in Happy Day in Hell but it was a joke.

This is something very blatant with HH, most of the time, when something serious is presented it’s a joke (Sexual assault, drugs, etc...) It’ll depend on whether you're Viv's favorite character or not.

*cough*

Sir Pentious was not.

*cough*

You also see this in how they approached the crimes committed by characters, most of them did messed up things but Charlie never tries to address these despite being the one supposed to care about redemption.

Vaggie participated in genocide, she was angry but for one episode only, and her rant to Alastor was too light-hearted to be taken seriously (again a joke). Rewatch the scene, with an Alastor that doesn't give a damn, the funny music in the background, her goofy facial expression and tone, that’s not taking it seriously narratively.

Alastor was a serial killer and took pleasure in torturing his victims. Currently, he’s a cannibal and slave owner, Charlie does nothing about it. I’m not asking her to free Husk and Nifty we don’t know if she really can, but she could have had a conversation asking Al to not torture people during his stay at the hotel or treat his employees like humans and not pets.

Angel Dust was part of the mafia. From what we’ve seen he isn't against killing people, in fact, he seems to like it.

Every time we see him fight he’s smiling and enjoying himself, it’s said in the pilot that he’ll never miss an opportunity to help Cherry fight in those turf wars of hers. But his problem is druUuUUugs (this is an issue but that’s the only thing pointed out.)

That’s even more noticeable with the cannibals… who are nice? Whoa… you’re saying that the people whose whole culture is to jump you at your most vulnerable, tear through your flesh with teeth and hands just to feast on you in the middle of the street are actually silly guys and gals who like meat a bit too much. How charming ☺️

She was more annoyed that guts and blood went into her eye than anything.

There isn’t enough effort to showcase the horrors of living in a place where your only chance to survive is to be physically stronger and a good manipulator. When we’re shown something awful like “murders or cannibalizing someone” it’s presented as quirky, and funny, and nobody really mentions it. Aren't we supposed to believe that Hell is a bad place as a whole? Is Extermination really the only thing we have to worry about?

What’s the point of adding concepts like forced labor, addiction, and an unfair hierarchical system if you’re not going to show the viewer the horrendous reality of these things?

Vivziepop needs to pick a consistent tone for her series, there’s nothing wrong with joking about murders and EdgyyYyy humor, but that makes the audience detach from the reality of these things and they will have a hard time caring for a character the second they are portrayed as bad. Especially when the transition between funny and serious is from one episode to another.

“Angel and Husk are suffering!!!!!”

The characters that are supposed to be addicts are sober every time we see them on screen. We see Husk drink alcohol directly from the bottle and rather than showing that the toxins are affecting his body by making him sluggish and/or on the verge of vomiting he’s still able to stand still and hold a conversation perfectly. Even if Husk drank like a sailor, there’s so much alcohol your liver can take before eventually letting it affect your system.

But maybe we could use his addiction in a way to reinforce the fact that he isn't free.

Think of it like this, show a few scenes where Husk is excessively drinking experiencing bad hangovers, and not doing his job correctly as a whole. Vaggie complains about this to Alastor saying that til now he has done nothing significant to help the hotel and the employees he brought aren’t even behaving properly. She threatens him saying that he might get kicked out if this continues.

To that, Alastor could later threaten Husk saying he better fix his drinking habits or he’ll broadcast his scream or whatever. Later Husk would still be drinking but you could have little details of Alastor side-eyeing him and him just letting go of his bottles. He’ll still be sluggish but he’ll make sure he’s sober enough to keep The Radio Demon happy.

We never really felt like Husk’s movements were controlled by Alastor, he was just brought into the hotel without his concent, that sucks, but he can still converse normally with the others. In the Pilot, he insulted Deer Boe in his face with no repercussions. A few more scenes like the one in episode 5 to reinforce the power dynamics between him and Al wouldn't kill.

And Angel Dust how many scenes do we see him do drugs yet his body is able to take it all?

He’s supposed to be an addict, there are few mentions of him hiding things in his room but it's all talking! Talking is not bad, you can talk, but it’s boring and holds NO substances when there isn't SHOWING. Imagine this:

Charlie is worried because it’s been an hour and Angel hasn't come back to the Hotel, she knows his schedule as a sex worker is extremely busy but she usually knows when he comes back and he didn't respond to any of her messages.

Before she could go out to search for him, Cherry burst out into the room, a beaten and knocked out Angel on her shoulder. She was barely standing herself as she was also injured, with many cuts freshly bleeding mainly on her arms and face.

Charlie and the other help her get Angel to his room to tend to his wounds and Cherry’s. When she asks for an explanation Bomb explains that Angel couldn't buy his usual stash of drugs at the local store he went to anymore, as it got plundered right after the end of the extermination, the owner was killed and the shop was vulnerable to thieves.

Angel was looking for a very rare type of drug, made in the Gluttony ring, usually, the things made there take you quickly to cloud nine practically knocking you out in the process. The store he bought it from was the only one with prices affordable enough for him.

He eventually found a gang that was willing to give him a very small portion of drugs in exchange for money. Except that he didn't have nearly enough for what they were asking but he still went with it just after his work in one of Val’s clubs, already a shitty idea since he was exposed to many illicit substances when working with the moth so he wasn’t clean.

Obliviously the gang didn't accept a slip payment and tried to rob and take advantage of him. Cherry stepped up, fought a bit, and escaped with Angel, thanks to her smoke bombs, before things could get too serious. She goes on a small rant about how she and Angel are friends and they mutually help each other, when her wounds are patched up she leaves not before asking Angel to call her when he wakes up. Before she could go Charlie proposed to her to stay at the hotel but Cherry refused stating that there were people in the street who probably needed her help, but she might send people to Charlie’s hotel if she felt like they couldn’t survive in the street.

There’s probably a lot I could fix with this story but that’s just a quick example. What did I manage to convey without blatantly saying it? Angel Dust isn’t in a great financial situation, his addiction is so bad that he’s willing to put himself in danger just to get his hand on the strongest dope and Hell is a fucked up place. I didn't say it I showed it and since you’re smart you understood the subtext.

Some will say that there’s Extermination, but first, we just learned that they can fight back and they have a year to prepare themselves so the stakes are lesser.

Second, it’s surprisingly easy to get angelic weapons.

Someone like Striker managed to get multiple angelic weapons to kill Stolas and a rope that neutralized his powers.

An imp, the cockroach of the society, either his killing business is extremely successful or Carmilla’s prices aren’t that high. And don’t go tell me “Stealaa bought it!!” that’s never implied or stated.

Plus the angel leaves these in the open, I’d say it’s quite easy to get one of those right after an Extermination, nobody was surprised Vaggie has a spear so it feels like it’s common for someone to have them.

[dfortrafalgar]

hihi

I hope you're doing well :>

Can I request a law x reader period comfort fic that's just pure fluff. with the back rubs and all the good stuff??

Thanks!!

thank you so much for your request anon! I actually got two period-related requests, so i decided to combine them into one fic, i hope that's alright! im currently under the onslaught of the red devil myself as of right now, so writing this was perfect for me. i hope its perfect for you both as well!!!

Warm Away the Pain

Law x Fem Reader

Heat pads, chocolates, and painkillers are nice, but nothing helps your period more than being in the presence of the Surgeon of Death.

Warnings: some suggestive language, mild descriptions of period symptoms, menstruation in general! lots of fluff with our favorite surgeon <3

“Just take this thing out of me!”  Your tears were streaming rapidly down your puffy cheeks as you forced open the door to the medical bay, clutching your abdomen and hunching over with the agony ripping through your gut.  Your cramps had days where they were better or worse, but today seemed to be the most awful they had ever been.  You had barely been able to walk from the Captain’s quarters to the medical ward, the force of each step against the cold metal floors of the Polar Tang sending another stabbing burn directly through your uterus.  It wasn’t like you were new to experiencing menstruation aboard a deep-sea submarine, either, but today seemed particularly keen on making you as miserable as humanly possible.  

Law was caught by surprise when you entered, your voice cracking as you sobbed.  His golden eyes were wide with shock as he turned in his chair to face you, ignoring the stack of paperwork he was previously fixated on and immediately standing, crossing the floor in broad steps to capture your face in his hands.  His thin eyebrows were scrunched in concern, a prominent crease in the skin above his nose.  “Hey, baby, breathe for me,” he coaxed, rubbing your swollen, tear-stricken skin with the pad of his thumb.  “Breathe.  Tell me what’s wrong.”

You knew you were being irrational.  You had dealt with cramps for years before you met Law, but when you had spent the better part of six hours with nonstop scorching irons being driven through your uterus, rationality was the furthest thing from your mind.  You sunk into your boyfriend’s shoulder, his lanky arms looping around you to support your weary form, carefully guiding you to the hard examination table in the corner of the medical room.

“My cramps…” you heaved.  “They’re so bad.  I’m in so much pain.  I just want you to take this damn thing out of me.  Put me out of my misery, even.”

Law’s tiny smile was sympathetic as he gazed down at you, one hand stroking your forehead and the other placed gently above your lower abdomen, providing fleeting touches over where your shirt covered your skin.  Your muscles definitely felt tender, and you were certainly bloated, all tell-tale symptoms of a particularly bad menstruation cycle.

“How about we start with painkillers and some external remedies,” he offered, his usually stoic, cold voice now soft and soothing as he placed a fleeting kiss over your nose.  The privacy that the medical bay provided allowed him to comfortably litter you with tender affection away from the prying eyes of your crewmates.  “When you start to feel better, and you still want a hysterectomy, we can discuss it.”

Your eyes slowly opened, darting to meet him.  “A hysterectomy?”

“The surgical removal of your uterus,” he clarified.

You pushed yourself up on your elbows slightly.  “Maybe not…” you muttered.  “Let’s go with your painkiller idea.”

Your sudden attitude switch made a small chuckle bubble from Law’s lips as he turned away from you and paced toward the medicine cabinet, procuring a decently sized pill and a small metal cup of water.  The white capsule was in the palm of his hand when he returned to your front, holding the items out for you to take.  Despite the uncomfortable size of the medicine, you swallowed it with no issue helped by a generous gulp of the lukewarm water from the Tang’s filtration tap.  The mild, salty aftertaste of the refined liquid lingered on the back of your tongue.

“That should take about 30 minutes to kick in,” Law muttered, taking the cup from your hand once more to sanitize it.  “In the meantime, we can try some other remedies.”

“What do you have?” you asked, gazing skeptically around the dark, sterile room.

“We have a few heat pads that Ikkaku brought with her when she joined, a bath, cinnamon or ginger tea…” he rambled, cleaning out and drying the cup, turning around to lean against the counter to face you.  “Massages can help relieve the tension in your muscles.  Or you can orgasm.”

Heat rushed to your face.  “How do you know that?”

Law’s own cheeks tinted with a very faint blush.  “Reading,” he stated bluntly.

The gaze he directed toward you told you everything you needed to know- he had done more than his fair share of research on feminine health as soon as the two of you solidified your relationship.  But as much as the idea of being swept off your feet by your doting captain and carried to your shared quarters for some time under the sheets sounded tempting, the rippling cramps flowing through your lower belly silenced the sultry thought almost instantaneously.

“A massage sounds pretty nice… and a hot bath…” you muttered, awkwardly fiddling with your fingers.

You were half expecting Law to simply nod and tell you to run yourself a bath, leaving him alone to continue his work in peace and quiet.  The surprise that jolted you from your quiet demeanor was more than welcome, however, when he stepped across the room to plant a swift kiss against your soft lips.  His own were curled in a small grin, reserved yet still so genuine that it made your heart flutter within the confines of your ribcage.

“If you give me about 10 minutes to clean up here,” he began, nodding his head in the direction of his paperwork left on the counter from when you originally entered, “... then I’ll meet you in the washroom.  Alright?”

With heat thrumming through your veins, your boyfriend’s proximity so close you could feel the way his scent practically blanketed around you, you meekly nodded, barely uttering a peep.  He helped you down from the examination table, his calloused hand firmly holding yours, and placed one more kiss against the back of your neck as you exited the medical bay and began your trek to the Polar Tang’s washroom.  The entire submarine only had one designated bathing area, with a few shower stalls and a toilet and sink, along with a deep, metal bathtub in the corner.  While the crew usually followed a strict schedule for bathing time, it was very rare that anyone would be using the space in the middle of the day.

A grin tugged on your lips as you walked through the narrow corridors.

—

You were already submerged in the bathtub when Law entered, steam rising off the surface of the water as you sunk yourself up to your neck in the hot liquid, a thin layer of lavender-scented bubbles floating around the surface of the water and covering bits of your glistening skin.  Your eyes were closed in bliss as the sweet, herbal scent decompressed you from the inside out, but Law’s delicate chuckle broke you from your trance.  He had a small, unlabeled bag in his hands which he placed on the sink counter.

“Looks like you barely need a massage,” he hummed, slipping his shirt over his head and folding it neatly on top of your clothes.  He had absolutely zero need to remove his shirt if he didn’t plan on sitting in the tub with you, but you weren’t about to complain against the wonderful view presented to your sight.

“I still need a massage,” you quickly quipped back, sitting up straighter in the hot water.  You leaned your arms out over the side, hands flexing in a motion to encourage your beloved to come closer and grace your taught skin with the presence of his deft fingers.  Your eyes found the bag Law had entered the bathing room with.  “What’s in the bag?”

Law took the parcel and, after slipping off his socks, knelt beside the bathtub next to you.  He opened the paper container and held it out in front of you.  “Milk chocolates.”

Your eyes lit up, a sopping wet hand dipping into the bag to procure one of the bite-sized morsels, an aluminum wrapping surrounding the sweet.  You carefully unwrapped it with eager hands and glittering eyes as Law watched, the corners of his eyes creased with his smile.  When the chocolate finally passed your lips and sat on your tongue, you melted further into the bathtub, the sweetness of the candy flowing and mixing effortlessly with the supple scent of lavender floating through the air.  Law almost dropped the bag to grab your shoulders, afraid you would slip under the water.

“Law, you’re too good to me,” you mumbled, your eyes closed and your lips pursed as you sucked on the chocolate, savoring the sweetness on your tongue.

“No such thing as ‘too good’ in my eyes,” he retorted, a playful lilt in his voice.  He returned the bag to the sink counter before taking his place behind your shoulders, stretching his hands before they found purchase against your skin.

Law was good at many things, but the way his fingers worked the knots out of your back and shoulders was a level of bliss unlike any other.  Sure, food, bathing, and sex were great, but the feeling of your muscles pulling apart and relaxing with each rotation of his wrists and press of his thumb pads into your soft skin was euphoric.  He worked out taught portions you didn’t even know you had, your shoulders slowly sinking downward as he rubbed you into oblivion.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice low, reverberating off of the metal walls surrounding you.

“Like I could die happily at any moment,” you replied, the chocolate in your mouth now fully melted and gone down your throat.  “Has anyone ever told you you’re a god with those hands of yours?”

Law chuckled, the feeling of his shoulders bouncing coming through his hands on your skin.  “Once or twice.  This girl on my crew likes to tell me that.  Not sure if you’ve ever met her.”

Your lips curling into a smirk, you happily played along with his banter.  “Hmm… can’t say I have.  Describe her for me?”

“She’s really over dramatic.  She came into my office this morning complaining about some period cramps.  I’ve seen her take hits from swords and bullets on the battlefield with less griping.”  A laugh bubbled from his chest as you swiftly pivoted below the water, splashing his bare skin with the warm bath water.

“Well I think she was being perfectly rational!” you retorted, leaning back against the tub and allowing your boyfriend to resume his ministrations against a particularly rough not off to the left side of your spine.  “Period cramps are no laughing matter.”

“So I’ve heard…” he mumbled back, his smirk remaining on his face as he worked.  “It’s alright, though.  She’s cute when she whines.”

More heat flowed through your arteries, unrelated to the temperature of the bath you were submerged in.  If you stayed in here any longer, you were convinced you might pass out by overheating.  Wouldn’t be the first time, the water heater in the Tang’s boiler room was no joke.

Law leaned forward once more and placed a smattering of kisses along your damp shoulders.  “Really, though, how are you feeling?  Has the bath helped?”

You nodded, leaning your head back against his tattooed chest, your eyes closed.  “I’m feeling a whole lot better… still pretty achy, but I think the pain medicine has finally kicked in.  My cramps aren’t nearly as bad as they were this morning.”  

Law’s hands traveled from your shoulders to your arms, basically draping his body over you to rub tender circles against your inner wrists, submerging his own hands under the water.  “As much as I hate to ruin the moment, it’s not good to stay in a hot bath for too long.”  He took your hands from below the surface, holding your palms inward to face you.  “You’re pruning.”

Indeed, the pads of your fingers had become incredibly wrinkled with how long you had been bathing.  Your palms were showing prominent ridges in your skin.  “All good things must come to an end,” you uttered wistfully, leaning forward to pull the plug on the bath drain.

“Not necessarily,” Law stated back firmly, standing up and stretching his lean back.  “I have the rest of the day free thanks to Uni and Clione’s watch shift.  Whatever you want to do to make you feel better, I’m here.”

You turned toward your boyfriend, eyes widened with pure shock.  “Are you serious?”

An affirmative nod and a sly smile answered you.  As the water drained from the basin, you gingerly stepped out of the tub and enveloped the Surgeon of Death in your arms, now desperate for another source of warmth as your skin pierced against the contrasting cold air of the surrounding bathroom.  “The entire day?” you asked, reaffirming what you had just heard.

“The next 13 or so hours,” he replied, his hands taking up their usual perch against the small of your back, rubbing small circles into the tiny knots situated near your rump just as he had been doing to your shoulders.

“You mean you have time to cuddle?  And read Sora?  Or make me something good to eat for dinner?”  Your eyes were practically shimmering as you gazed up at the captain.

“Well I can’t promise any good food, but the cuddling and Sora I can guarantee,” he offered, releasing you from his grasp long enough to snatch a towel from the nearby linen shelf and drape it around your goosebump-riddled shoulders.  “I grabbed one of the heat packs from Ikkaku and put it in our room.  I can see who’s on cooking duty tonight to make you a good meal.”

You grinned from ear to ear, your skin thrumming with the bountiful affection your beloved showered you in.  You carefully tucked the corner of the towel that wrapped around your body under your armpit to hold it in place, Law’s hands dropping from your shoulders to your hips, thumbs rubbing small circles into your pelvic bone through the rough fibers of the aged towel.

“Go get dressed into something comfy,” he uttered, his voice low.  “I’ll meet you back in bed, hopefully with some food that you’ll like.”

You leaned forward, trying to ignore the subdued throbbing in your abdomen that returned once out of the warm, soothing bath, and placed a kiss on the tip of Law’s pointed nose.  “Aye aye, captain.”

—

The feeling of soft cotton surrounding your skin was beyond blissful as you sprawled out on the bed you shared with Law, almost taking up the entire space with your outstretched limbs.  The heat pack from Ikkaku was laid across your belly above the sweatshirt you stole from your boyfriend, providing a comforting heat that relaxed the muscles contracting in your abdomen with every movement.  If this was how bad your cramps could get, you didn’t even want to imagine how awful childbirth could feel.  You shoved that worrying thought to the back of your mind and let the heat from the fabric pack on your body flow through your veins, leaving pleasant electric tingles on the tips of your fingers and toes.  On the nightstand beside your head was a tall glass of water, a bottle of painkillers, and the same bag of chocolates Law had brought into the bathroom with you.  Three discarded chocolate wrappers also dotted the tiny table.  When Law finally entered your room again, his hands carrying a small tray of food from the galley, you barely had the energy to pick your head up to greet him.  Instead, you lazily raised your hand in a small wave before flopping it back down on the blanket beside you.

“How’re you doing?” he asked yet again, moving aside some of the items on the bedside table to place the metal tray down.  The smell of some sort of vegetable soup filled your nose- Hakugan must have cooked tonight.

You simply grumbled, resisting the urge to turn your head.  Every movement seemed to respark the cramps deep in your belly.  “Waiting for the painkillers to kick in again.”

“Is the heat pack helping?” he asked, running his hand gently over the soft skin of your forehead.

“Mhm… kinda,” you whispered.  You slowly opened your eyes, finally meeting the golden ones that gazed back down at you.  “Did you bring soup?”

“Yeah,” he replied, removing his hand from your hairline and crawling onto the bed beside you, slipping his arm carefully over your waist to hold you close to him.  “You don’t have to eat it right now if you don’t have an appetite, but it’s there when you’re ready.”

“Thank you, baby…” you muttered, shimmying closer to his body despite the ache in your legs.  “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me today… honestly.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Law mumbled into your hair.  “I love doting on you.  I just wish I could do it more often.”  His hand idly stroked your abdomen up and down over your heat pack, applying a gentle, calming pressure over the parts of your skin that weren’t as close to your uterus and wouldn’t hurt as much to touch.  “As much as I hate seeing you suffering and in pain, I like days like this.”

“Where you can just relax?” you asked, turning your head to hide your nose in the warmth of his neck.

“Yup,” Law replied.  “Relax with you, more specifically.”

The two of you laid in a calm, peaceful silence, the thrumming of the Polar Tang’s engine reverberating through the walls and the steady cadence of your synchronized breathing lulling your muscles into a deep state of relaxation.  As the ache in your belly diminished with the onslaught of a peaceful slumber, you felt Law press one last kiss to the crown of your head as your body dozed off, ready to sleep off the rest of your aches for the day.